Door Theology

The following story is from Bruce Main, the director of Urban Promise Ministries in Camden, New Jersey. Bruce shares what he calls a “door theology” which demonstrates the church’s stewardship towards the Great Commission. This is a wonderful story as we begin to ponder what a new year in ministry will look, feel, and sound like. Although most of us reside in affluent communities of faith, there is still much need around us. All is asked of us is to search with the Holy Spirit’s guidance. And although Bruce’s story relates to youth and children (basically because his demographic consisted of over 50% of youth under the age of eighteen), it still relates to other demographics that may be prevalent in our ministry contexts—singles, senior citizens, the divorced, substance abuse individuals, etc. Most importantly, this story focuses on what is actually happening behind the doors of our churches. Amen and enjoy…

The Holiness of a Broken Door


I once met a Catholic priest who had a fascination with doors. He believed that the front door was the most important part of a church. The door, he claimed, should be something that beckons people to come in. It should be something intriguing, something that ‘whispers the mystery that lies beyond it.’

The door of our church used to be white, shiny, and metallic, smooth and new looking; it could have graced the cover of a church supply catalog. The door was seldom used. As a matter of fact, the door reflected the church that existed inside the door—unused. With only a couple of hours use of its hinges each Sunday, the door had little chance to tarnish its beauty. It just sat there, not living up to its calling as a church door—that is something that is used to allow people to enter a place where the mysterious Divine dwells.

But last week we had to replace the door. Since our rambunctious youth program arrived at the church three years ago the door had changed. The shiny, white metallic finish had been dulled by the continual touching and thumping of dirty hands. There were gouges, dents, and holes in the door created by kids who were late for events and needed to be heard. The bright brass trim around the mailbox had been ripped off. The inner core of the door could now be seen and had begun to spill its contents onto the surrounding sidewalk. Perhaps the brass had been stripped to be sold or taken off in an effort to rob the church. Whatever the case, the fancy trim was gone. All that was left was an ugly, roughly cut metal hole, through which the mail person could shove the mail each day.

Days before the door was replaced, it would hardly open. The only hinge connecting the door to the frame was the top one. And even that hinge had been reset a number of times. The other hinges had long ago been ripped out of their homes and tossed in the scrap pile. As the door was opened, shut, slammed, and propped over the last three years by children, teens, and staff, the door collapsed. Finally the screws gave way, and the wooden door posts disintegrated.

So the door was replaced. The cost: eight hundred and fifty dollars to put in a new frame and metal door. Unfortunately the trustees in our church didn’t share in the same door theology as my priest friend—that a door should create a sense of mystery and intrigue. We got a new, white, shiny metallic door.

Although I grimace over this expense in our budget this year, I do have to chuckle over the fact that we wore out a door. Children broke the door! Not intentionally, but because they wanted to get into the church. Something was happening inside these walls that were calling them off the street to come into this place where God lives. The door had begun to serve its purpose….The more I have thought about our door, the more I have wondered how many churches in America can boast over the fact that they have had to replace a door because of the dents and holes made by young people trying to get in.

But if the church really lives up to its calling, should it not be replacing its doors more regularly? Wouldn’t it be exciting if churches across America all of the sudden had to start ordering custom-made doors to replace all the doors that were being broken. Just think how wonderful it would be if churches had to start hiring special 'door ministers' just to keep door knobs from falling off and hinges from snapping. Right next to Minister of Music and Christian Education Director in the next year’s budget would be 'Door Minister.'

Reference: Revolution and Renewal: How churches are saving our cities by Tony Campolo and Bruce Main

Are you spiritually religious? Religiosity among youth examined

The following is an excerpt from my Master's Project at Clemson University. I began to examine the similarities and differences of the label(s) of spiritual vs. religious in light of the Search Institutes work in the domain of youth spiritual development and with the work done within the National Study of Youth and Religion. What I came up with is that being spiritual parallels and intersects with being religious, but being religious doesn't necessarily mean one is being spiritual--"being religious" tends to be dependent on an institutional system; whereas, "being spiritual" has an interconnected quality that can transcend institutional barriers.
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Defining Spirituality

When speaking about spirituality, one may be better suited to think of spirituality in terms of a verb rather than an idea or static statement: “One of the basic premises of any spirituality is that our nonphysical selves also thirst….We long to be loved, to love, and to live in a universe characterized by love. Yet we discover by experience that our longings are never completely fulfilled on the human level” (Holt, 2005, p. 1). So, in other words, life experiences have as much to do with our longings to be connected to something other than ourselves—a highly motivational factor with which one finds value and meaning throughout a lifespan. Thus, this perennial, human element forges through the complexities of life:

Spiritual development, then, is an ongoing, dynamic, and sometimes difficult interplay between one’s inward journey and one’s outward journey. It presses us to look inward to accept or discover our potential to grow, contribute, and matter, and to look outward to connect with life, including being in relationship with family, community, the world, and, for many, the sacred, divine, or some form of universal reality (Benson & Roehlkepartan, 2005, p. 20).

It is no wonder that youth express spirituality as being an aspect of the heart, especially if such an interplay highlights one’s inward feelings with one’s life experiences. Benson and Roehlkepartan (2005) go on to state that such an interplay involves at least three processes:

Awareness or awakening. Being or becoming aware of or awakening to one’s self, others, and the universe (which may be understood as including the sacred or divinity) in ways that cultivate identity, meaning, and purpose.

Interconnecting and belonging. Seeking, accepting, or experiencing significance in relationships to and interdependence with others, the world, or one’s sense of the transcendent (often including an understanding of God or a higher power); and liking to narratives, beliefs, and traditions that give meaning to human experience across time.

A way of living. Authentically expressing one’s identity, passions, values, and creativity through relationships, activities, and practices that shape bonds with oneself, family, community, humanity, the world, and that which one believes to be transcendent or sacred (p. 21).

It becomes apparent that when spirituality is used within the framework of youth development, it becomes a multi-layered stratum of experiences and reflections on those experiences that in turn provide an ever-changing stream of consciousness that, in most instances, blur or intimidate youth professional’s understandings of youth spiritual development. Because youth professionals are not sure what the guidelines are on addressing youth spiritual development (much like sexuality), they tend to stay away from either spirituality all together or, at least, labeling activities as such (Pittman, Garza, Yohalem, and Artman, 2005). Such a lack of understanding or clarity perpetuates a superficial understanding of spirituality, if that. But, in all fairness, youth professionals (secular youth professionals in particular) have reason to be cautious when spirituality sounds much more like religious indoctrination. In other words, spirituality or spiritual development is still considered, in many arenas, religious education or catechesis (Strommen, Jones, and Rahn, 2001). It is at this juncture, that the author attempts to define religion.

Defining Religion

The word religion is a peculiar word. In fact, its definition depends upon the lens in which one views religion—through the eyes of the theologian, philosopher, psychologist, historian, anthropologist, etc. And though it has many interpretations, one factor seems to be at the core—religion as a human experience:

Yet all agree that religion has to do with universal life experience and the ways in which sense is made of those experiences and meaning is attached to them. These universal experiences constitute the field from which the perennial human effort to make sense of the world (or deny that sense in some instances) arises: birth, death; joy, sorrow; knowledge, ignorance; success, failure; love, hate; suffering, relief; and body, spirit. This list includes that matters of primary concern to religion are universal, because of the fact that no human anywhere past, present, or future lives without experiencing them (Wiggins, 2003, p. 418).

Thus, religion or religious experience finds its bearings within the constructs of everyday life—the rituals, reflections, meditations, and pauses that give life meaning. But in defining religion as such, the author must take into account how religion has become the embodiment of vast beliefs and values, which have found shape and form throughout various houses of worship—churches, mosques, synagogues, temples, etc. These venues help define a community as well as the individual. So, when one does not wish to become a part of the religious community or hold similar beliefs and values, and yet is making meaning from life experiences, “being spiritual” becomes the default classification for most:

Perhaps most comforting to professionals, parents, and perhaps faith leaders is that the distinction between spirituality and religiosity seems to be clear to young people. Wilson conducted focus groups, interviews, and surveys of adolescents in researching her book A Part of You So Deep. Her findings: ’90 percent of youth said that a person could be spiritual without being religious—a finding consistent with research showing that while interest in organizational religion may dwindle during adolescence, interest in spirituality itself does not.’ Spirituality for these young people was more about finding and maintaining an inner compass than holding a set of shared beliefs (Pittman, et al., p. 32).

If the above-mentioned statement reasons to be true, then the dichotomy of being spiritual or religious is but the negation of religious systems or institutions. And that is a clarion call to all of us that religious institutions have the potential to hinder positive human development.

Within the Protestant Christian Church, the Swiss theologian, Karl Barth, re-emphasized this cautionary bulwark in ubiquitous fashion as the Protestant principle:

The ever-moving searchlight that the Reformation trains on all religion as it warns that religion may be as dangerous as it is necessary…All religion is in daily need of reformation because all religion, in both blatant and subtle ways, seeks to make itself and its creeds, codes, and cults more important than the revelation and experience it is meant to serve and pass on (Knitter, 2005, p. 55).

Even the most rudimentary reading of Church history portrays this divisive nature religion can play within the lives of people; consequently, youth professionals, working with youth of many religions or religious persuasions, may be leery when discussing how religion plays a part in youth development:

Doctrinal distinctions between secular and sacred, reinforces in the United States by (mis)interpretations of the First Amendment religion clauses, have led youth workers to a fearful avoidance of all things religious and spiritual in other than faith-based organizations. The rise of evangelical Christianity in the United States in the 1980s, with its powerful political infrastructure and its passion for youth ministry, reinforced the idea of equating spirituality in youth work with proselytizing. Today residual fear is regularly aggravated by news of growing global fundamentalism in Islam, Judaism, and Christianity (Kimball, 2008, p. 112).

Although there are potential negatives associated with religion in general, the term religion as an embodiment of everyday life experience(s)is much more analogous with the term spirituality. And yet, a spiritual person or young person need not be religious, so to speak.

One final cautionary note needs to be made though. When we discuss institutions such as churches or synagogues, we need to remember that they are "jars of clay"--they are made up of people (like you and me) that exhibit imperfections and,though their intentions may be good, act in such a way that can be a hinderance in our and youth spiritual development. That being said, religious institutions do provide a spring board affect which allows youth to begin a process of developing a religious lexicon and religious symbolism that has the potential to permeate and give meaning to their life experiences. Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel for us religious educators. In the face of all that can be negative with religious institutions, we can help youth forge meaning and purpose through the symbols and rituals that we hold sacred and, hopefully, they will too.

Thoughts on the question as to “why” Elizabeth is in seclusion for five months (Luke 1: 24): An exercise in Ignatian Spirituality through Bible reading

Foremost, the Greek word we derive our current meaning of seclusion is defined as “hidden” or “to hide.” And hidden or to hide can be an either/and in terms of a literal or figurative interpretation (W. Mundle, Dictionary of New Testament Theology, Vol. 2). We find examples of its usage in Genesis 3: 8 where Adam and Eve are hidden from God as God walks throughout the garden calling out for them. We see another example of hidden found in the dialogue of Eli and Samuel within Samuel’s call narrative. In the New Testament, the same use of hidden is found in the context of faith (Hebrews 11:23)—the example of Moses being hidden three months after his birth. Interestingly enough, this had nothing to do with being fearful of Pharaoh’s decree.

What we can take from this, linguistically as well as biblically, is that seclusion isn’t the same as what we might think of today as isolation. In fact, being in seclusion seems to be a time of preparedness or anticipation for a sign of God’s promise towards the beneficiary. And, in most cases, that includes the participation of others, or at least, dialogue with God. So, what we read in Luke about Elizabeth (literally and figuratively) provides us with a timeline that John is to be the forerunner of Jesus as well as it speaks to the cultural reality of Jewish womanhood and, in particular, to Elizabeth’s plight:

Barrenness was a triple tragedy for a Jewish woman. It shriveled the hopes of her husband for posterity, sparked taunts from other women when she appeared at the village well, and signified her sin. To be barren was to be out of favor with God and man. To be pregnant was to be blessed....Zechariah’s term ended with the next Sabbath. He headed home, Elizabeth subsequently conceived, and for the five months she remained in confinement. She waited until it was perfectly obvious that she was going to have a baby before she ventured forth to the village well, the social center of the Near East. She had had enough of the taunts of her fellow townswomen (Connick, Jesus the Man, the Mission, and the Message, 1974, p. 111).

Luke goes on to write that within the sixth month (after the annunciation) Mary visits Elizabeth “in haste” (Luke 1: 39) and Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit following the sign of John leaping in her womb (verse 41). Such a sign from God affirms God’s promise to Elizabeth as well as Mary; thus, it may not be a surprise that Mary sings a song of praise (the Magnificat) following such an event.

In addition to what Connick stated about Elizabeth’s pregnancy (see above), I would suggest that she’s in a period of waiting to process and see if this blessing will be fulfilled—meaning that I think of Elizabeth as a very real person within this story, and I think about her as taking on very human characteristics: wondering what others will think about her if she doesn’t come to full term; feeling bad that she would doubt God in the first place; wondering if what she experienced was real or not, even though many thought her husband had seen a vision because of his muteness and possibly deafness in the temple; and should she really wait five months, or any months for that matter, before entering numerous social circles…is this testing God?

Mary’s visit seems to quell any or all of those thoughts and in fully believing (and, yes, a sign is included), Elizabeth’s doubt* transforms into a galvanized faith not only for Elizabeth’s story but also for the world.

*Elizabeth’s doubt is arguable. I’m making this assumption based on my Ignatian reading of this passage. My reasoning for putting doubt into her narrative is because of verse 25: “This is what the Lord has done for me when he looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.” This could be a pronouncement of the blessing she received, much like we find in other narratives of important people throughout the Bible, or could it be that she’s trying to convince herself of such a blessing as well? The pronouncement becomes some sort of mantra—repeating over and over in her head to help keep doubt at bay.

Getting Fired for the Glory of God (Yaconelli speaks truth in love)

There are those books that you read once and never again pick up, and then, there are those books that you continually reread as if they materialize into some sort of automatic sifter—catching and examining every little nuance or gradation possible within its pages.

One of my favorites, though it’s not a classic, is a compilation of articles by Mike Yaconelli, the late great youth worker guru. The title of the book tells it all—Getting Fired for the Glory of God. I’ve reread this book numerous times over the past few years when it first hit the bookstores in 2008. I don’t know if it’s more of his personality that comes through in his written word or if it’s the mandate of “just love Jesus!” that imbue them, but, whatever the case, he knows how to write with conviction. Don’t believe me? Just read Mike’s thoughts on the state of youth ministry and the church for that matter:

I’m very concerned about the souls of America’s youth workers. Youth ministry here is precariously close to collapsing under the weight of its own success. We seem to be caught in the spell of a media-driven, techno-event culture that’s dazzling the life out of us. We have a spectacular array of seminars, products, conventions, rallies, crusades, and programs that draw large crowds and make lots of noise—and we wait expectantly for the next spectacular array of events. Sadly, an increasing number of youth workers have opted for more instead of deep. All over the country, one youth ministry after another is becoming a monument to our charisma, a tribute to our technology, a testimony to our management skills…and one more nail in the body of Jesus….The modern senior pastor operates like a CEO instead of a spiritual director, mentor, or fellow struggler. Numbers, activities, and programs dominate our agendas, and we soon discover that in today’s institutional church, mission statements, strategies, and results matter most. Efficiency and control rule. The bottom line is tangible growth. The youth minister’s soul is irrelevant. Then we wake up one day with very successful youth programs, only to discover our success has cost us our souls.

Mike’s words reverberate with me. He definitely causes me to take pause. He gives voice to a number of us, church workers, who nod our heads in agreement with his description of the Church’s underbelly and the way in which staff can lose themselves within the Church’s “doing” ministry model. But we don’t have to settle. I mean, Mike’s words don’t have to become a self-fulfilling prophecy for the rest of us as the Church thrusts itself unto the cultural landscape of the twenty-first century.

Our churches don’t have to look like mega churches or what people have come to expect, but then again, that’s quite alright. For example, I’m not against growing churches for the Kingdom of God, but I am against growing churches for growth’s sake with all the latest gadgetry and gimmicks. So, the challenge that’s set in front of us all is to look at “being” the church in the face of what we’ve been “doing” in the church for all this time.

Maybe if we look to the future with a pinch of creativity, integrity, and vulnerability, the Holy Spirit may show up and surprise us all.

To God be the Glory. Amen.

An Ecumenical Pragmatist (Part I): Searching for Places to Root and Serve

Well, I got my copy of Steven Harmon’s book Ecumenism Means You, Too: Ordinary Christians and the Quest for Christian Unity in the mail today. From what I’ve perused, it has already got me thinking about the unity of the church. But I have to confess, I probed the last couple of chapters first…Sorry, Steve.

But the reason I did was because the title of Chapter four caught my eye—10 Things You Can Do for the Unity of the Church. Within chapter four, two of those ten (though all ten are thought-provoking in their own right) resonated with me. And here they are: “Third, commit yourself to the life of a particular church, warts and all; and fourth, embrace a particular denominational tradition” (pp. 60-61).

Commit yourself to the life of a particular church, warts and all…embrace a particular denominational tradition…

This of course is not such an easy task for those whose churches or denominations have deemed them to be of little or no value, e.g., GLBT Christians among the ranks of most Protestants as well as Orthodox and Roman Catholics, not to mention the Church of the Latter-day Saints. And in response, a number of reconciling congregations have popped up over the past two decades. But is this a vestige of unity? I could also add the plight of women in ministry to this totem, which is a considerable part of the SBC (Southern Baptist Convention) & CBF’s (Cooperative Baptist Fellowship) story.

The reason I mention the GLBT community and the plight of women in ministry is because I, too, presented the Church with its own perceived incongruities about what Christian families and church staff should look like. My family represented an interracial one. I mean, what was the church to do with a white man and his black wife and mixed children wanting to serve in a congregational setting, especially in the Deep South! This definitely presented a dilemma for most. And, when God called me to the ministry (my beautiful family being a part of this as well), though I experienced a rush of unexplainable joy and humility, I soon felt forlorn and confused to say the least. I mean, I truly felt like I was on the island of misfit toys—that somehow I was tolerated as long as my role in the church didn’t allow me the rights and responsibilities of clergy status. And that’s when I began to search for something new—the way of the Baptists.

As my family and I trekked towards the Ohio Valley to attend seminary, I knew that I didn’t want to force my family makeup on any weary congregation—an itinerant system like the United Methodists (the denomination I grew up in), I thought, was out of the question. So, we found an American Baptist congregation in the heart of Dayton, Ohio. Within a couple of months, our family was received into the congregation, and we became Baptists! I soon combed over all the Shurden books I could get a hold of and became part of lively discussions of what ordinances and baptism for Baptists is all about. But seminary in Ohio became short-lived, and we soon moved back to Georgia, where I finished seminary at a respected Baptist seminary.

But what I soon found out in Georgia was that there wasn’t a place for me to serve and support my family at the same time. The story of the Georgia Baptists felt far removed from my experiences and readings of the Northern Baptists. Again, I didn’t “fit.” So, in hopes of finding ministry work, I returned to the United Methodist Church.

Fortunately, I found some ministry work, but at a price—the fact that I studied at a Baptist seminary instead of one of the United Methodist’s most premiere seminaries in the South isolated me within the episcopacy system. Thus, I had to come to grips with the fact that if I remained in the United Methodist Church, ordination might not be an outcome. And I still wrestle with that from time to time.

But the point of sharing my church story is this: For those of us who may seem flip about joining and serving within a certain denomination or church, the truth is that we are trying to find our way to worship, serve, and identify with something larger than ourselves that touches our inmost part of who we are in Christ. Although I want to be committed to a church or denomination, the larger institution must allow me to work and serve so that I can reside or find a place to root.

I’m reminded of a letter by Mark Rothko (one of my favorite twentieth-century painters) written to Yale University. It was an acceptance letter for which Yale bestowed Rothko with an honorary doctorate. This was a humbling honor because Rothko began his undergraduate studies at Yale, but never finished. Although Rothko is writing about the artist’s life, the underlining spiritual tone speaks to the very center of being ecumenical:

When I was a younger man, art was a lonely thing: no galleries, no collectors, no critics, no money. Yet it was a golden time, for then we had nothing to lose and a vision to gain. Today it is not quite the same. It is a time of tons of verbiage, activity, and consumption. Which condition is better for the world at large I will not venture to discuss. But I do know that many who are driven to this life are desparately [sic] searching for those pockets of silence where they can root and grow. We must all hope that they find them (1969).

In others words, being an ecumenical pragmatist is not a nasty word—it is a search, or better yet, a voyage some of us are willing to take. It’s my hope that we will find those pockets that we can eventually grow and serve within.

I’m fortunate today to serve a mid-size United Methodist congregation in North Georgia. They accept me and my family, and they give me the opportunity to lead. It’s not always easy (congregational ministry never is), but a spirit of mutuality and reciprocity reside within the community…that’s unity!

Suggested Readings:

Ecumenism Means You, Too: Ordinary Christians and the Quest for Christian Unity; Steven R. Harmon

Hope for the World: Mission in a Global Context; Walter Brueggeman (editor)

Joined in Discipleship: The Shaping of Contemporary Disciples Identity (Rev. & Exp) Chapter 10; Mark Toulouse

A Baptist Manual of Polity and Practice (Rev.); Norman H. Maring & Winthrop S. Hudson

The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms; Walter B. Shurden

Baptist Life and Thought: A Source Book (Rev.); William H. Brackney (editor)

United Methodist Beliefs: A Brief Introduction; William Willimon

Word, Water, Wine, and Bread: How Worship Has Changed Over the Years; William Willimon

In His Own Words, Bo Bartlett, Art and Life

Worship as Christian Identity

But returning to the story of Saint Anthony (in previous blog), the reader may detect that this story is much more than just a reflection of one’s search for communion with God. One gets the glimpse that the solitary venture is checkered with elements of spiritual warfare:

So he was alone in the inner mountain, spending his time in prayer and discipline. And the brethren who served him asked that they might come every month and bring him olives, pulse and oil, for by now he was an old man. There then he passed his life, and endured such great wrestlings, ‘Not against flesh and blood,’ as it is written, but against opposing demons, as we learned from those who visited him. For there they heard tumults, many voices, and, as it were, the clash of arms. At night they saw the mountain become full of wild beasts, and him also fighting as though against visible beings, and praying against them. And those who came to him he encouraged, while kneeling he contended and prayed to the Lord. Surely it was a marvelous thing that a man, alone in such a desert, feared neither the demons who rose up against him, nor the fierceness of the four-footed beasts and creeping things, for all they were so many. But in truth, as it is written, ‘He trusted in the Lords as Mount Sion [sic], ‘with a mind unshaken and undisturbed; so that the demons rather fled from him, and the wild beasts, as it is written, ‘kept peace with him’ (Robertson; Schaff & Wace, p. 210).

What can be gleaned from Saint Anthony’s experience is that for an individual to expose one’s self to the presence of God in solitary confinement, so to speak, brings to light one’s inner demons that must be wrestled with in the hopes of true reconciliation to God and to self. Again, the argument that one can worship God on the golf course on Sunday morning is far from an authentic experience with the living God.

Because, for most, the solitary venture is not only arduous but also dangerous in terms of emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual aspects of the individual, the need to reframe worship within a communal setting is warranted. And yet, the author appreciates the vocational calling of those (monks and nuns) who give themselves over to a life of prayer and service.

Communal Response of the Faithful
Much of what has been passed on to the Protestant churches in terms of communal worship models has been attributed to the 19th century philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard. It was he who elaborated on the communal experience of worship in that the congregation should be active participants in the service. In other words, passive by-standers are not the intent of the communal experience. Author Daniel Benedict, Jr retells the story of a young Ephesus girl within such a community that values her baptismal experience as their own:

As they had done during the months of scrutiny and instruction in the way of Christians, Lydia’s grandparents stood with her now in the crowded room. Small oil lamps burned, giving only enough light to illumine the faces of the presbyters, deacons, and her fellow candidates for baptism, who also were accompanied by their sponsors. On the way to the church they had passed the smoldering remains of a bonfire. Lydia stood shivering on the cold stone floor in the predawn, wondering what would happen next. Whatever it was, she wanted it to happen quickly. Lydia was a fourteen-year-old Ephesian, but she was eager to become a citizen of heaven. She knew she was ready to be one of them, as she had told her grandparents some weeks before….A presbyter directed the candidates to spit repudiation on the devil and renounce all the works of darkness….Without a word, Justina, another deacon, led Lydia down the steps into a pool.

Above, on the edge of the pool, the bishop bent over, tapped Lydia on the shoulder with his staff and asked her, ‘Do you believe in God the Father, the Maker of heaven and earth?’ She hesitated, unsure of whether to answer aloud or just think her response. Justina squeezed her arm and pointed to the bishop, prompting her to answer aloud. ‘Yes, I do,’ said Lydia. And before she knew what was happening, Justina, a stout woman, pushed her under the water. Lydia struggled back up, gasping for the breath she had not taken after her answer. She wanted to cry but didn’t know why. Then the bishop asked, ‘Lydia, do you believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son; born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, died, and buried; and descended to the dead? Do you believe that he was raised on the third day and ascended into heaven?’ This time Lydia did not pause but shot back, ‘I do,’ grabbing her nose as Justina again pushed her under the waves like Jonah being cast overboard. A third time the bishop tapped her on the shoulder with his staff and asked, ‘Lydia, do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting?’ This time it was beginning to be fun as she found the rhythm of call, response, and dunk! Justina guided Lydia up the steps to her grandparents, Marcus and Julia, who were waiting to embrace her with a towel and words of rejoicing. Then they clothed her in a simple white garment.

One by one the other candidates were immersed as Lydia stood in the warm glow of lamps on the wall sconces, and sunlight began to peek in through the clerestory windows at the top of the room….Her attention snapped back to the present moment as she heard the sound of singing on the other side of the double doors. The words were no longer indistinct: ‘Christos aneste…’ (‘Christ is risen…’). The singing grew louder and louder as if faith was growing with excitement. The bishop interrupted the singing as he pounded on the doors with his fist and chanted in a different key, ‘Christos aneste!’ Lydia heard the people inside join the chant, singing: Christ is risen from the dead trampling down death by death and on those in the tombs, bestowing life! The bishop, standing at the now open doors, called out, ‘Let the newborn of God join the assembly.”

There in the crowded assembly room were the faces of those Lydia had seen on Sundays when she had gathered to hear the reading of the holy scriptures and the preaching of the bishop. They looked like angels rejoicing. Heaven was opened in proud welcome as the bishop led the newly born into the midst of the assembly (2007, pp. 81-85).

This is a beautiful description of a community in response to the individual’s rite of passage. It is also a telling story of how the community is being responsive to one another. Worship in this setting in which, as the bishop stated, “Christ is risen!” is bringing forth the good news to a community that has its identity shaped and formed by scripture and response.

In its infancy, the Church formed itself around four distinct modes of worship: study/preaching, fellowship, breaking of bread, and the prayers/hymns (Acts 2: 42). Remembering that the Church was Jewish in its matrix, the reader would be cautioned to view this early Church through the lens of 21st century Christianity. But, at any rate, the distinct Messianic appeal of the early Church categorized anticipated hope of Christ’s return. In fact, an early follower of Jesus may have viewed the breaking of bread as a messianic anticipation:

Perhaps every meal for the church was experienced as an anticipation of the Messianic banquet, a foretaste of Jesus’ promise that his followers would ‘eat and drink at my table in my kingdom (Luke 22:30).’ In their eating and drinking the resurrection community is already a partial fulfillment of that promise, enjoying now what shall soon be consummated in the kingdom of God. The prophet’s call is fulfilled, ‘Ho, every one who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money…Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price’ (Isa. 55:1) (Willimon, 1988, p. 41).

Like Lydia’s story, the early Church worshipped in response to the anticipation that Christ is risen and death is gone!

There's No Need to Go It Alone

One of the early Church Fathers, Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria, provides a telling story of a courageous monk who found communion with God in a shanty, located on a lofty Egyptian mountainside. This monk, Saint Anthony of Egypt, was transformed by the hearing of scripture while attending church one morning. His heart became transfixed on the following passage and later it took root as a portent of faith to come:

After the death of his father and mother he was left alone with one little sister: his age was about eighteen or twenty, and on him the care both of home and sister rested…Pondering over these things he entered the church, and it happened the Gospel was being read, and he heard the Lord saying to the rich man, ‘If thou wouldest be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor; and come follow Me and thou shalt have treasure in heaven.’ Antony [Anthony] as though God had put him in mind of the Saints, and the passage had been read on his account, went out immediately from the church, and gave possessions of his forefathers to the villagers (Schaff & Wace, 2004, p. 196).

Saint Anthony interpreted the reading of scripture as his invitation into a spiritual vocation that the early Church was in the process of coming to grips with in the 4th century CE—asceticism.

Asceticism became the mode of best practices for those searching for communion with God. These practices entailed solitude, contemplation, fasting, and prayer. The goal of asceticism is to denounce aspects of living that are common to most (companionship, food, entertainment, etc.) in the hopes of gaining something purer and better for the ascetic—the glory of God.

The early Church was caught within this tension of the individual search for God and its institutional belief that communal worship equates to salvation. It was to the Church’s credit that it soon reconciled itself with the ascetic through the support and encouragement of the taking of vows or orders from monastic communities which centered its life and ministry from the guidance of a rule or set of communal guidelines, e.g., the Rule of Saint Benedict and of Saint Francis. Although we often think of the ascetic life as a solitary endeavor, the search for the glory of God soon became known as a communal one where communities of monks and nuns centered their lives through the teachings of the great ascetic figures of their time.

LOVE WINS - Rob Bell

A Methodist Chats About Catholic Baptists: Sacramental theology on the rise

The Catholic Baptists

I first came across the notion, that there may be Baptists out there that adhere to the mystery of the church, when I read an article in the Christian Century that was titled, The New Monastics. The article reviewed several sacramental communities within the U.S. that tried their best to live out what they thought the early church was all about. Jason Byasse, author of The New Monastics, described them in the following manner:

At a time when the church had grown too cozy with the ruling authorities, when faith had become a means to power and influence, some Christians who sought to live out an authentically biblical faith headed for desolate places. They pooled their resources and dedicated themselves to a life of asceticism and prayer. Most outsiders thought they were crazy. They saw themselves as being on the narrow and difficult path of salvation, with a call to prick the conscience of the wider church about its compromises with the ‘world.’ I’m describing not fourth-century monks, but present-day communities of Christians…

This cadre of present-day monks are known by the following names: (1) The Rutba House, (2) Reba Place Fellowship, (3) the Church of the Servant King, (4) the Church of the Sojourners, and (5) Grace Fellowship Community Church.

In an article by Steven R. Harmon called Catholic Baptists and the New Horizon of Tradition in Baptist Theology, Harmon sides with the seventeenth-century Baptist’s traditions that influenced their theology: “The earliest Baptist confessions demonstrate that seventeenth-century Baptists picked up the same reading glasses when they turned to the Bible as their authority for faith and practice. Baptist confessions issued during the seventeenth century are surprisingly rich with echoes of patristic doctrinal tradition.”

There are seven ideologies in which Harmon lists as identifiers of a Catholic Baptist: “(1) they explicitly recognize tradition as a source of theological authority, (2) they seek a place in Baptist ecclesial life for the ancient ecumenical creeds as key expressions of the larger Christian tradition, (3) they give attention to liturgy as the primary context in which Christians are traditioned, (4) they locate the authority of tradition in the community and its formative practices, (5) they advocate sacramental theology, (6) they engage tradition as a resource for contemporary theological construction in a manner similar to the ressourcement agenda of the ‘nouvelle theologie,’ and (7) they are proponents of a thick ecumenism.”

It is within the affirmations of such patristic traditions that Catholic Baptists are able to affirm the following in terms of sacramental theology: “We affirm baptism, preaching, and the Lord’s table as powerful signs that seal God’s faithfulness in Christ and express our response of awed gratitude rather than as mechanical rituals or mere symbols.” It is within those powerful signs that change is evoked. Methodists, Episcopalians, Roman Catholics, and Lutherans should be waving on our Baptist brethern as they tentatively try to leave their sacramental closets and join the rest of us who hold to the notion that God does something to us in such a way that we're changed forever.

A few years ago, while attending an Episcopal service one Sunday morning, I didn't feel anything special as I followed along in the reading of the liturgy, though I was trying my best to focus on the liturgy and concentrate with a prayerful attitude...but it just wasn't happening. And yet, within a moment or two, as we all shared within the liturgy of confession and penitence, something changed. As I went to the front of the church and partook in Holy Communion, I began to view those in my midst as brothers and sisters in Christ. It was at the table that we were neither rich nor poor, intellectuals or simpletons, but pilgrims connected by a presence through bread and wine.

Hmmm, is sacramental theology on the rise?

A Methodist Take on Baptist Worship: Understanding My Backyard in the Bible Belt

Author's note:

One of my deep interests deals with interfaith work and practice. As part of this passion, I've begun to do more research on various Christian communities in particular, because I feel that understanding the different facits of the Chrisitan Church is tremendously helpful when trying to develop unity and witness for a global community. Writing about other Christian traditions is also helpful for me as a confimation class facilitator--having a measurement or context in which Methodist faith practices breathe and interact with.

Baptist Worship
For Baptists, worship can be considerably different because of a major Baptist principle—church autonomy. In other words, the church decides on the way in which it will express and witness worship to the Christian community. But there are some distinct Baptist notions of worship that may be seen in most:

Baptists have traditionally looked askance at formal liturgy. They have come out of a tradition which eschewed all but the most elementary symbols, such as Bible, pulpit, Communion table, and baptistery. All candles, crosses, stained-glass windows, pictures, clerical garb, and altar cloths were taboo; and churches even refused to celebrate Easter and Christmas. More recently, however, attitudes have changed, and it is now common to see a cross and candles on the Communion table and even acolytes who light the candles (Maring & Hudson, 1991, p. 55).

Again, it is the decision of the church as to how and what worship will look like behind its doors. Another aspect in terminology is distinct as well in the way Baptists view baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

Ordinances
Both baptism and the Lord’s Supper are considered an ordinance instead of the more common term for both in other mainline denominations—the sacraments. An ordinance recognizes these Christian rites as practices of the Christian community, whereas, churches such as those following an episcopacy view these rites as sacramental—meaning that the act itself evokes a spiritual awakening or change leading to one’s salvation. Not that the Baptist views these rites as unimportant or common place, but instead appreciates the fact that the act itself is a witness to the worshipping community as well as to the broader world. As colonial America took shape, so did the ordinances in Baptist life:

Together with most other Protestants, the Baptists emphasized as central to church membership and fellowship the two basic ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. What made Baptist persuasion different was its belief that only those old enough to make an oral profession of their faith (and their conversion experience) were eligible for baptism and that baptism should be total immersion…The Lord’s Supper, usually held monthly or bimonthly (among those in good Christian fellowship), utilized a common Communion cup and fermented wine (Brackney, 1998, p.119).

Thus, not only did Christian rites viewed as ordinances demarcate Christian practice and witness, it also provided accountability for the Christian community.

The Importance of Family in Promoting Positive Youth Development

The Role of the Family

The role of families in regard to their children’s development is much more than functionary—providing shelter, food, clothing, and transportation. In fact, research has shown that the most important influence in adolescents’ lives is their parents (Collins, Maccoby, Steinberg, Hetherington & Bornstein, 2000; Hutchinson & Baldwin, 2005). The categorization of 40 Developmental Assets from the research done at the Search Institute, indicate that external assets (support, empowerment, boundaries and expectations, and constructive use of time) are highly dependent on family involvement:

Support: Family life provides high levels of love and support and young person and his or her parent(s) communicate positively, and young person is willing to seek advice and counsel from parents. Parent(s) are actively involved in helping young person succeed in school.

Empowerment: Young person feels safe at home, at school, and in the neighborhood.

Boundaries and expectations: Family has clear rules and consequences and monitors the young person’s whereabouts. Parent(s) and teachers encourage the young person to do well. There are high expectations from both parent(s) and teachers to do wel(Search Institute, 1997; Witt & Caldwell, 2005, p. 10).

The Search Institute’s asset-driven approach towards positive youth development is based on the evidence that if a young person acquires a high percentage of those assets, he/she will have a better opportunity to achieve well-being:

For example, 49% of young people who indicate they have 0 to 10 of the 40 assets are likely to engage in problem alcohol use as opposed to only 3% of young people with 31to 40 assets. The same relationship holds true for being involved in violence, illicit drug use, and sexual activity…Similar percentages are found for other positive or thriving behavior attitudes such as exhibiting leadership, maintaining good health, and valuing diversity (Witt & Caldwell, 2005, p. 9).

Thus, the developmental asset model is helpful in monitoring positive youth development, especially when considering how the role of family plays such an influential part in the lives of adolescents.

It is research like the above-mentioned that suggests families should be included in the context of solution-based programs for youth. An example of utilizing the influential strengths of families is found within the multiple family group intervention approach. Within this approach or model, wisdom is diversified among group members (group leader, parent(s), and youth) in order to provide viable solutions for at-risk youth:

In multiple family group intervention, the attempt is made to acknowledge the private world of the individual, which may include suffering, alienation, and oppression, while simultaneously making an effort to help repair the fragmentation in the individual’s own community. Concurrently, each participant is viewed as a resource (Quinn, 2004, p. 8).

Viewing the family as a prominent resource, a youth development professional has a kaleidoscope of experiences and innate wisdom at his fingertips. Although family members may have ill-conceived or ill-advised notions of what constitutes productive parenting skills, they are more likely to listen and acknowledge appropriate responses if they are given voice within group scenarios.

A primary feature of a multiple family group intervention is the transformative process of viewing the “other” (Quinn, 2004, p. 189). For example, parent(s) are given the opportunity to view their children in a different light. Through a family solutions program, at-risk youth that have been perceived as “reckless,” “no-good,” “lazy,” or “dangerous” are empowered to shed those perceptions and adopt new ones through a renewed sense of narrative. The following Narrative Pedagogies Project demonstrates this type of youth empowerment through the writing and telling of their stories.

Narrative Pedagogies Project

The NPP (Narrative Pedagogies Project) is a religious education program for youth. It originated at Claremont Theological Seminary under the direction of professor Frank Rogers, Jr. Dr. Rogers’ initial aim in the program was to counter the prevailing consumer-driven mindset within youth culture. Because he believed youth were vulnerable to marketing ploys which mirrored desired cultural identities (refer to PBS’s Frontline Merchants of Cool for more information on youth consumer culture), Dr. Roger’s felt this current identity formation truncated their truer sense of themselves; and he advocated for the empowerment found within the arts (storytelling, poetry, drama, and the fine arts) in order to create meaning-making in their lives:

Young people, Rogers relates, internalize the narratives that are shaped by the people in power—in this case, by the folks who generate the commercials on TV. ‘Unfortunately,’ he goes on, ‘young people are not nurtured to be critically reflective, nor are they encouraged to question whether their own worth is tied to the products that they desire and acquire (Schier, 2009, p. 2).

The narrative design that Dr. Rogers utilizes has as much to do with the basic tenet of narrative theology as it does with youth development—having an appreciation of Life Story. A life story deals with the influential factors that create one’s narrative, which shapes discernment for moral action (Stone, 1995). In other words, the idea behind creating or rewriting one’s narrative is reflecting on the external factors (institutions, parents, other adults, peers, etc.) that become the backdrop of one’s story, and with this story one becomes empowered by this new, transcendent truth that compels a person to live and thrive within a newly-formed personhood. And it takes more than one person to do the work of narrative pedagogy.

Again, the family unit, an adolescent’s most influential source, can set the stage for positive youth development if they, too, are discerning a young person’s image through positive and productive means.

The Youth Professional Serving Within a Pluralistic Society

Religious Pluralism

Since the Second Vatican Council (1965), under the auspices of Pope Paul VI and his successor Pope John Paul II, ecumenicalism and interfaith dialogue have shaped the American religious landscape significantly. Documents were written, foundations were developed, and committees were formed (i.e., The Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue, The Commission for Religious Relations with Muslims and Jews, and the Nostra Aetate Foundation) in order to pave the way for interfaith dialogue from the perspective that the Catholic Church, among Protestants and other religious groups, lived in an environment of religious pluralism (Fitzgerald & Borelli, 2006). Such a whirlwind of interfaith dialogue was much in part a product of the lessons learned from the Jewish Holocaust—sentiments like the following ushered in the importance for tolerance and understanding of diverse religious traditions:

This monumental atrocity hovers over interfaith discussions like a brooding presence, warning that such a monstrous outrage must never happen again…We Christians will have to read the messianic prophecies with a new perspective and explain to Jewish friends why, for us, Jesus, in his death and in our experiences of his Resurrection, makes the break-through that anticipates the reign of God, and we have to listen to what our Jewish partners in dialogue have to say about the coming of God’s reign. (Sheerin, 1978, pp. 309-310, 312).

Within the cast shadow of the Holocaust, another necessity to understand one another emerged because of the demographic shifts within the American neighborhoods of a bourgeoning white majority, middle class. The need to understand one another became paramount when these shifts began to represent ethnic and cultural proximity.

In American society today, a culture shaped by a post 9/11 temperament, proximity is again an opportunity for religious awareness or interfaith dialogue to take place. Unfortunately, the reality that terrorism has landed on American soil has pushed the country’s religious conscience to point and demonize Middle Easterners, specifically those who are Muslim—often referred to as harbingers of terrorism.

Martin Marty, professor and author of numerous works on the subject of religious pluralism, suggests when faiths collide with one another that “the first address to these situations should not be the conventional plea for tolerance among them, but it is rather a call that at least one party begin to effect change by risking hospitality toward the other…Conversation and interplay follow the acts of reception; both are full of risk” (Marty, 2005, p. 1). In other words, practicing an interfaith dialogue among different groups of people, requires a proactive touch that must be genuine and authentic.

But within a world filled with militaristic agendas and entitlement notions of worth, a reactive scramble seems to be the normative response. Youth professionals should be aware that working within a context of religious pluralism is not always cut and dry. It takes a great deal of time to research and dialogue with youth and families of different faiths. And there is always the potential of an impasse. It is within those moments that the youth professional strives to do the best she can with the situation she is in. Thus, the goal is to educate and train youth in practices of hospitality.

Eduardo Ramirez, Assistant Professor of Youth Ministry at Eastern University, builds upon Marty’s notion of hospitality through his understanding of otherness:

The awareness of otherness is not a search for equality or uniformity that blurs or eliminates all differences. It is the acknowledgment of difference with the desire to relate to another individual. Yet because of otherness we attempt to go beyond differences in order to recognize the potential that others have for reciprocal relationships (Ramirez, 2005, p. 68).

Although his research is not focused on interfaith relations exclusively, he does make the case that “identity is fundamentally a relational concept; there is no identity without difference” (Ramirez, p. 70). It is differences that mirror and shape adolescent identity formation in order to perceive the inherent worth of the individual—the other.

If youth, who are of many different faiths and backgrounds, can see the value in one another’s differences, then there is the possibility for authentic religious pluralism to occur. It is the author’s viewpoint that discussing differences with one another, forces an individual to reflect and examine the inconsistencies and in congruencies as well as the inherent truths and mystery that foreshadow one’s values and belief systems. This is for the good because cognitive and effectual processes are working together—while honoring another’s feelings about his/her deeply rooted beliefs, one must examine uncomfortable areas of religious uncertainty that recently have been exposed. Thus, a place-sharing of humility and faith identity emerge for all parties involved in such an interfaith exchange.

My Call Statement

Growing up in rural, middle Georgia, I enjoyed the lazy summer days of country life as well as spending time with my close-knit group of friends and family members who were always there for me. My adolescent years consisted of playing sports (football and baseball) and participating in church-related events—family picnics, UMYF, Christmas and Easter productions, etc. My upbringing resembled the quintessential makeup of most middle-class families—consisting of two parents, three kids, and two dogs, all of which lived under one roof.

This is the backdrop of who I am. And yet, as I’ve matured in faith and in years, God continually illuminates and replenishes areas of my life in need of renewal and restoration, suggesting that I’m a work in progress. Such illumination is humbling indeed, but is well worth the path I’ve chosen to follow from the one who called me to take up my cross and follow him. And it was those early, developmental years, foundational to my present growing in faith, that have shaped me with a positive sense of self, a belief in a loving God, and a vision of a hopeful world.

Me, Myself, and I
My parents and grandparents were very influential in my life in that they passed on their most treasured values to me: “Finish what you start,” “Live a life of integrity,” “Get an education,” “Pursue your dreams with earnest,” and “Lean on God and family for assurance.” Of course, as a teenager, I doubt I appreciated those gleanings of wisdom as much as I do now. But they did eventually seep into my late, adolescent brain.

As a teenager, I was much more inclined to strive for coolness than for positive youth development. I was the type of kid that could meander well through all of those “typical” middle and high school social cliques that vied for my attention. And though I did well within that season of life, I always felt that something was missing. I couldn’t articulate it then, but God, pushing through an elaborate montage of self-identifiers (athletics, grades, girl friends, band, art, church, etc.), was calling me to do “something.” It wasn’t until my college years that I realized God is always there, calling us to do “something” if only we will listen.

So, in response to this calling, my pastor allowed me to become the group leader of the UMYF during my senior year of high school. Later, as a freshman in college, the church employed me as their first paid youth director. The church paid me an income of $200 a month. Even though the pay was small, I loved the opportunity to work within the church. Those years of serving my home church gave me insight into what life could be like in service to others, and, in my case, to serve and minister with teens. I felt connected to a cause, and I was emboldened to pursue it.

A Loving God
As college graduation approached and I moved into full-time ministry as a youth pastor, I became overwhelmed with the intricate group dynamics and responsibilities attached to working within a mid-size congregation—200 to 350 members. My mentor and boss, Reverend Barry Ferguson, took me under his wings and showed me the ropes, so to speak. We spent numerous lunches discussing how to empower members for the ministries of the church and how to be sensitive to the needs of parents and youth. During one of our lunches, as I was asking him how to handle some issues that were arising in the youth department, he stopped me midway in the conversation and asked, “Brad, how do you spell your name?” I wondered what he was getting at, but I played along. “Barry, I spell it B-R-A-D.” “Good,” he said, “Because once you realize that your name isn’t spelled G-O-D the better off you’ll be!” I believe what he was trying to convey to me was that, when it’s all said and done, God is ultimately in control. Barry’s words of wisdom have stayed with me since those early days in my ministry, and I often reflect on them.

I’ve learned that the ministry of the church will go on with or without me. And yet, I have a great opportunity to be an agent of God’s love and mercy if I but learn to be obedient to God’s calling in my life. The apostle Paul said it best, “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). In other words, learning to heed God’s calling in my life takes discipline through prayer, study, worship, and reflection. And this discipline (being a disciple) enables me to sense God’s presence in the world—I need not fear, for God has redeemed me and called me by name; I belong to God (Isaiah 43:1).

A Hopeful World
I do believe there’s hope for our hurting world. Over the years within the ministry, I’ve seen children, teenagers, families of all shapes and sizes give of themselves to minister to those in need through various work camps, outreach projects, and congregational settings. I’ve had the privilege to pray with and sponsor youth and adults who have ministered in places such as Haiti as well as other countries within the continent of Africa. I’m fortunate to have come across ordinary folks who are doing extraordinary things for the Kingdom…who are impassioned with God’s calling and are meeting the need wherever it appears. This is Good News!

For me, being in ministry is not by default. It is my vocation—a challenging vocation, but mine nonetheless. Whether I’m ministering to a group of youth in a Sunday school classroom or preaching to a multi-generational congregation on Sunday morning, my calling is the same and all too familiar—“speak the truth in love.”

My grandfather shared with me once that the reason he joined the Marines as a young man was because he felt that if he could become a marine, he could do anything in life. Well, I share a similar sentiment: If I can serve as a pastor with integrity, passion, love, and humility, then there’s no telling how God may use my life in order to further the Kingdom of God.