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
The Pilgrim's Way
I've found that over the years there's nothing better than to have a venue to share your thoughts and feelings about life-all of its ups and downs-the vicissitudes of a life full of love, loss, grief, and, ultimately, joy. It's my hope that through the exchange of stories and experiences, we, as human beings, will realize how connected to one another we truly are...to see the value in one another is the pilgrim's way.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
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.
.
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.
.
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.
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.
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