I think I'm going to let this blog go dormant for a while. Before I do, though, there are a few things I need to talk about.
First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for the good advice I've gotten on here. I started this blog to discuss issues I was having regarding religion and the church and where I need to go from here. Part of me worried that nobody would ever read it and I'd get no responses while another part of me feared what those responses would actually be like. I shouldn't have worried about either scenario. There have actually been people interested and I've been overwhelmingly pleased by the feedback I've received. I very much appreciate all the comments, advice, and most of all the prayers. (If anyone has happened onto this blog by accident and doesn't know what the heck I'm talking about, see the posts on the right side of the blog under the heading "My Religion Story.") Things on the church front are kind of at a standstill right now, but I have hopes that changes might start happening this fall. If they do, I'll be sure to start posting again.
Secondly, I posted a request for prayers in regards to a job opening a few months ago. Thanks so much for everyone who prayed for me. I got the job. I'd appreciate prayers that I do it well. It's a big job and a great opportunity, but very challenging.
I've been deliberately vague about my real name, but the more I think about that, it just seems I'm being silly. Anyone who knows me who happened across this blog really wouldn't have had a hard time figuring out who I was. My name is Mike and if you care to reach me on facebook you can go here. If you send me a friend request, though, just let me know you came from my blog in case I don't recognize the name. I'm also on twitter if you wish to follow me there.
Anyway, once again, thank you so much.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Chinese Martyrs
Deacon Greg Kandra has posted an excellent homily on the Chinese Martyrs over at his blog The Deacon's Bench. A short excerpt:
I didn’t really know
much about them until I was asked to preach this evening. But again,
as I read their stories, I found myself overwhelmed. The loss was so
great. But so was their courage. If you visit the Vatican website,
there are details about the 120 people who are counted among those martyrs we
remember tonight. Most of them died in the 19th century, persecuted during the Boxer Rebellion.
Reading about them, you’re struck by several things. First, are the ages. So
many were children. Three, four years old. One was ten
months old. Some were
teenagers, like 14-year-old Wang Anna…who refused to renounce her
faith. Moments before her death, she cried out: “The door of heaven
is open to all,” then whispered, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” Seconds later, she was
beheaded. So many of them were also lay people. Mothers and fathers,
even entire families. They were people like 18-year-old Chi Zhuzi, who became a
Catholic at 17, and was disowned by his family. He was eventually captured and
ordered to publicly worship idols. When he refused, they cut off his right arm.
He still refused, declaring: “Every piece of my flesh, every drop of my blood
will tell you that I am Christian.” He died by mutilation.
Here is my question: Why haven't I ever heard about this? I've gone to church on most Sundays of my life and (at least at most of the churches I've attended) we never discuss the stories of those who laid down their lives for the faith. I know I've said it before, but we Protestants are really missing something important by not discussing the Saints. It's like we have some sort of historical amnesia or something.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Almost Heaven
I just got back from 10 glorious days in the mountains of western North Carolina with the family. There may be prettier places in the world, but I haven't stayed there yet. We had great weather, hiked a lot, saw interesting sites, and ate way too much food. In short, an almost perfect vacation.
My 11 year old daughter has decided she wants to try to go to as many highpoints of states that she can. We had been to two before last week, Mt. Mitchell in North Carolina and Clingman's Dome in Tennessee. These were pretty, but basically just drive ups and we were there. Last Tuesday, she and I took off on a father/daughter hike to Mt. Rogers in Virginia. This was the first highpoint that was going to require some work to reach. We started at Grayson Highlands State Park and hiked up to the Appalachian Trail and followed it a little way to a spur to the summit. 4 mile hike to get there, so about 8 miles round trip. She was a trooper. We had a little whining about midway, but then she caught her second wind and was great. In fact, on the way back down, she was much faster than me. Apparently, young nimble kids are better at hiking than chunky 43 year olds. Who would have thunk it? :)
As has become my usual custom on vacation, I went to the local Episcopal Church. As usual, it was a beautiful service. Also as usual, I had the same misgivings I have had in the past about worship there. I won't rehash them here, but if anyone is interested, here is a post about my issues. No matter my current qualms, however, I will be forever grateful to the Episcopal Church for introducing me to a more liturgical style of worship.
Oh, and I had the best run of my life. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have made the rather foolish decision to train for a marathon. The first Sunday we were in the mountains, I was scheduled to run 10 miles. This would be the farthest I've ever run in my life. Naturally, I was a little nervous. I went to the Cone Manor which is a park off the Blue Ridge Parkway just a short distance from where we were staying. The run was outstanding. I was slow as Christmas, but I made it. I saw three deer and several rabbits. As someone who usually runs in town on sidewalks, this was quite a nice change. I'm a pretty cynical guy, but it's pretty hard to deny the existence of a God when your out in the quiet early morning in the beauty of God's creation.
The run the next Sunday wasn't quite as great, but I discovered a secret to make the miles go faster. Forget your usual running music and put your Ipod on shuffle. If your musical tastes are as varied and sometimes bad as mine, the tunes that pop up will certainly make you laugh. For example, Sunday I heard the following tunes in succession:
We Got the Beat, the Go-Go's
Mama Tried, Merle Haggard
Rock and Roll All Night, Kiss
This Land is Your Land, Pete Seeger
Baby Got Back, Sir Mix-a-Lot
I thought my Ipod would blow up playing this bizarre combination. But it made me laugh and forget about how sick I was of running for a little while.
Speaking of the song Baby Got Back, below is a pretty funny religious themed take off on it. For the easily offended, let me note that I don't view it as a spoof of religion, but as a spoof of Sir Mix-a-Lot.
My 11 year old daughter has decided she wants to try to go to as many highpoints of states that she can. We had been to two before last week, Mt. Mitchell in North Carolina and Clingman's Dome in Tennessee. These were pretty, but basically just drive ups and we were there. Last Tuesday, she and I took off on a father/daughter hike to Mt. Rogers in Virginia. This was the first highpoint that was going to require some work to reach. We started at Grayson Highlands State Park and hiked up to the Appalachian Trail and followed it a little way to a spur to the summit. 4 mile hike to get there, so about 8 miles round trip. She was a trooper. We had a little whining about midway, but then she caught her second wind and was great. In fact, on the way back down, she was much faster than me. Apparently, young nimble kids are better at hiking than chunky 43 year olds. Who would have thunk it? :)
As has become my usual custom on vacation, I went to the local Episcopal Church. As usual, it was a beautiful service. Also as usual, I had the same misgivings I have had in the past about worship there. I won't rehash them here, but if anyone is interested, here is a post about my issues. No matter my current qualms, however, I will be forever grateful to the Episcopal Church for introducing me to a more liturgical style of worship.
Oh, and I had the best run of my life. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have made the rather foolish decision to train for a marathon. The first Sunday we were in the mountains, I was scheduled to run 10 miles. This would be the farthest I've ever run in my life. Naturally, I was a little nervous. I went to the Cone Manor which is a park off the Blue Ridge Parkway just a short distance from where we were staying. The run was outstanding. I was slow as Christmas, but I made it. I saw three deer and several rabbits. As someone who usually runs in town on sidewalks, this was quite a nice change. I'm a pretty cynical guy, but it's pretty hard to deny the existence of a God when your out in the quiet early morning in the beauty of God's creation.
The run the next Sunday wasn't quite as great, but I discovered a secret to make the miles go faster. Forget your usual running music and put your Ipod on shuffle. If your musical tastes are as varied and sometimes bad as mine, the tunes that pop up will certainly make you laugh. For example, Sunday I heard the following tunes in succession:
We Got the Beat, the Go-Go's
Mama Tried, Merle Haggard
Rock and Roll All Night, Kiss
This Land is Your Land, Pete Seeger
Baby Got Back, Sir Mix-a-Lot
I thought my Ipod would blow up playing this bizarre combination. But it made me laugh and forget about how sick I was of running for a little while.
Speaking of the song Baby Got Back, below is a pretty funny religious themed take off on it. For the easily offended, let me note that I don't view it as a spoof of religion, but as a spoof of Sir Mix-a-Lot.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Memorial Day in Church
Well, I waited a while to post this because I'm sure not everyone will agree. First a few disclaimers. I love my country. My father was in the Air Force when I was a kid and I spent the first ten years of my life on various Air Force bases around the country and the world. I have tons of respect for the men and women who serve our country in uniform and even greater respect for those that have sacrificed their lives in that service. But here's my question: How much, if any, of a Sunday morning worship service should be devoted to Memorial Day?
At my church on the Sunday before Memorial Day, it dominated the entire service. We usually sing three hymns. All three were patriotic. My Country Tis of Thee, Eternal Father Strong to Save and God of our Fathers. (Though in typical Presbyterian Church USA fashion the title of the last one was changed to the more gender neutral God of the Ages.) The sermon was something along the lines of this: Freedom isn't free, we don't celebrate the sacrifices of military members enough, spend some time this weekend remembering soldiers who gave their lives, and, oh, by the way, Jesus died to give us freedom, too. Now I know that is an unfair characterization of the sermon, but seriously it was probably 80% patriotism 20% Jesus.
As I said earlier, I'm not against patriotism. I just wonder if the pulpit on Sunday morning is the place for it. I'm in a community band and on Memorial Day, we played a concert of patriotic tunes as part of the Piccolo Spoleto Festival in Charleston. A veteran gave a very moving speech on sacrifice in the middle. I thought that was great. But at a Sunday service (the only service at our church that day) I just think we need to focus a little more on Christ. Anyway, it seemed like everybody else seemed to enjoy the service very much, so maybe I'm just being a curmudgeon.
I read somewhere once that even though we are created in God's image, we humans tend to create God in our image. I worry when we begin to meld our national patriotic celebrations with our worship of God. It makes it all that much harder when our national values conflict with those of God. And this transcends any left/right dispute. If we constantly celebrate the greatness of our country from the pulpit on Sunday morning, how do pro-life folks respond when told "hey, abortion is the law of the land." And how does someone who believes our involvement in Iraq is immoral and not a "just war" respond in the face of a church that appears to believe God and Country go together just fine and dandy?
And since I'm on a rant that I'm sure will irritate some folks (especially some relatives of mine) one more pet peeve. When did the phrase "God Bless America" stop being a request and become either a command or a declaration. This nation has certainly been blessed, but God should be thanked for that, not ordered to continue. I for one would be happier if politicians would stop concluding every speech that way. I think it cheapens the sentiment. Maybe politicians should end every speech quoting Matthew 5:5.
At my church on the Sunday before Memorial Day, it dominated the entire service. We usually sing three hymns. All three were patriotic. My Country Tis of Thee, Eternal Father Strong to Save and God of our Fathers. (Though in typical Presbyterian Church USA fashion the title of the last one was changed to the more gender neutral God of the Ages.) The sermon was something along the lines of this: Freedom isn't free, we don't celebrate the sacrifices of military members enough, spend some time this weekend remembering soldiers who gave their lives, and, oh, by the way, Jesus died to give us freedom, too. Now I know that is an unfair characterization of the sermon, but seriously it was probably 80% patriotism 20% Jesus.
As I said earlier, I'm not against patriotism. I just wonder if the pulpit on Sunday morning is the place for it. I'm in a community band and on Memorial Day, we played a concert of patriotic tunes as part of the Piccolo Spoleto Festival in Charleston. A veteran gave a very moving speech on sacrifice in the middle. I thought that was great. But at a Sunday service (the only service at our church that day) I just think we need to focus a little more on Christ. Anyway, it seemed like everybody else seemed to enjoy the service very much, so maybe I'm just being a curmudgeon.
I read somewhere once that even though we are created in God's image, we humans tend to create God in our image. I worry when we begin to meld our national patriotic celebrations with our worship of God. It makes it all that much harder when our national values conflict with those of God. And this transcends any left/right dispute. If we constantly celebrate the greatness of our country from the pulpit on Sunday morning, how do pro-life folks respond when told "hey, abortion is the law of the land." And how does someone who believes our involvement in Iraq is immoral and not a "just war" respond in the face of a church that appears to believe God and Country go together just fine and dandy?
And since I'm on a rant that I'm sure will irritate some folks (especially some relatives of mine) one more pet peeve. When did the phrase "God Bless America" stop being a request and become either a command or a declaration. This nation has certainly been blessed, but God should be thanked for that, not ordered to continue. I for one would be happier if politicians would stop concluding every speech that way. I think it cheapens the sentiment. Maybe politicians should end every speech quoting Matthew 5:5.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Presbyterian History
Every Wednesday night at my church, we have supper and then some sort of program. The topics vary. The adult group just finished a bible study of James and we've now started a few weeks on Presbyterian history. A friend of mine is teaching the course and doing a pretty good job. As part of his description of the history of Presbyterianism in the United States, he passed out the chart above. Here is a link to a PDF of the chart if you want it.
It just makes me sad to look at. The night before he died, Jesus prayed that his followers be one and this is how much of a mess we've made of the one small branch of Christians known as Presbyterians in just the US.
I found the ensuing discussion fascinating. Almost no one had any idea what most of these past disputes were even about. We're separated and practically nobody evens remembers why. When my friend who is teaching the course tried to back up a little and discuss Calvinism, he got even more blank stares. And believe it or not, we're a fairly well educated congregation. Doctors, lawyers, professional folks. And yet, only a few had even the most rudimentary grasp of why we are even Presbyterians. A woman I know insisted that there was no real difference between Presbyterians and Methodists except saying debts versus trespasses in the Lord's Prayer and whether you come up front for Communion or stay in your seat. Of course, considering the fuzziness of the theology in a lot of the mainline liberal Protestant denominations, maybe there isn't a lot of practical difference for folks in the pews beyond style of worship. (I know that there are obviously big differences in church government, but I'm discussing the differences for your average Joe or Jane in the pew.)
Here's what gets me: Jesus prayed that we be one. But we're not and most of us can't even give a good reason why we're not. One day I'd like to hear a sermon take on that question.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
The Role of the Pope
There is a good article here on the role of the Pope. I think the best part of the article is here:
What more could we expect from the bishop of Rome than that, like Peter, heWho else can proclaim this most important message to the world? Sometimes the world needs to hear someone speak for all of Christianity. No one can do that besides the Pope. The world today needs to hear from the successor of Peter and we Protestants should be grateful to Catholicism for providing this voice.
strengthen the whole church’s faith in Christ’s resurrection? How could he
better serve the unity of an Easter people than by proclaiming insistently the
event that brought the church into being: the resurrection of the crucified
Jesus? The pope must also lead the church with the loving authority of a chief
pastor and be a model for all worshipers in celebrating the sacraments. But his
great task for all the world is to announce that Christ is risen. Nothing can or
should ever count against the power and joyfulness of that unique message.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Four Catholic Teachings that just kinda made sense to me
Jennifer has a great blog that I enjoy reading called Et Tu. I highly recommend you check it out sometime. One of her many wonderful posts was one entitled Five Catholic Teachings that just kinda made sense to me. Under the theory that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I give you my own list of four things that kinda make sense to me about Catholicism and are missing from my Protestant upbringing.
Purgatory I've never been particularly comfortable with the notion that when we die we either immediately go into eternal bliss or are damned forever. I know, for example, that there are a lot of things about me that will need purifying when my life is over. I can be self-centered, mean, selfish, and a lot of other unpleasant things I'll spare you. If heaven is a place of perfect peace and beauty, I'll need to clean up a bit before I come in. On the other hand, hell (which I unfortunately believe is real) seems like a pretty severe punishment that a gracious God would reserve for only the worst, most unrepentant sinners.
The Communion of the Saints I know Protestants believe in some form of the Communion of the Saints, but I like the Catholic understanding (at least as I understand it) much better. Why is it OK to ask the lady sitting on the pew behind me to pray for me, but not OK to ask those who are closest to God in heaven? Why would those in the presence of God stop caring about us still here on earth? And the teaching of the lives of the Saints gives us good role models to follow in our own lives. I'm constantly amazed at some of the backgrounds the Saints came from. If some of them can turn their lives around, hopefully I can too.
Confession Of course, I'm not Catholic (yet) so I've never been to Confession, but I like the idea. I do many sinful things in my life. I ask God in prayer to forgive me, and maybe that's enough. But I think I'd do better (and be less likely to repeat the same sins) if I had to tell a Priest what I had done. Hopefully he would give me advice to avoid such actions in the future. I like the idea of being accountable to the larger community. I know the Priest acts as Christ in forgiving our sins, but I'd also like to believe he represents the entire Church as well. Am I too far off in this belief?
The Eucharist The Catholic understanding of the centrality of the Eucharist to worship and Transubstantiation is what is attracting me the most about Catholicism. I talked a little bit about that previously here, here, and here. The short version is that the only place I'm going to get this regularly is in the Catholic Church. (I know the Orthodox might be possibility for some people, but I live in a small town in rural South Carolina. I'm a long way from any Orthodox Church.) I believe the Catholic Church is right when it proclaims the bread and wine are made into the Body and Blood of Christ. Hopefully, one day, I will be able to receive these.
Anyway, just a few thoughts. I realize that the test of good doctrine is not whether it agrees with me and there are some things about Catholicism that challenge me also. But that's probably good for me too.
Purgatory I've never been particularly comfortable with the notion that when we die we either immediately go into eternal bliss or are damned forever. I know, for example, that there are a lot of things about me that will need purifying when my life is over. I can be self-centered, mean, selfish, and a lot of other unpleasant things I'll spare you. If heaven is a place of perfect peace and beauty, I'll need to clean up a bit before I come in. On the other hand, hell (which I unfortunately believe is real) seems like a pretty severe punishment that a gracious God would reserve for only the worst, most unrepentant sinners.
The Communion of the Saints I know Protestants believe in some form of the Communion of the Saints, but I like the Catholic understanding (at least as I understand it) much better. Why is it OK to ask the lady sitting on the pew behind me to pray for me, but not OK to ask those who are closest to God in heaven? Why would those in the presence of God stop caring about us still here on earth? And the teaching of the lives of the Saints gives us good role models to follow in our own lives. I'm constantly amazed at some of the backgrounds the Saints came from. If some of them can turn their lives around, hopefully I can too.
Confession Of course, I'm not Catholic (yet) so I've never been to Confession, but I like the idea. I do many sinful things in my life. I ask God in prayer to forgive me, and maybe that's enough. But I think I'd do better (and be less likely to repeat the same sins) if I had to tell a Priest what I had done. Hopefully he would give me advice to avoid such actions in the future. I like the idea of being accountable to the larger community. I know the Priest acts as Christ in forgiving our sins, but I'd also like to believe he represents the entire Church as well. Am I too far off in this belief?
The Eucharist The Catholic understanding of the centrality of the Eucharist to worship and Transubstantiation is what is attracting me the most about Catholicism. I talked a little bit about that previously here, here, and here. The short version is that the only place I'm going to get this regularly is in the Catholic Church. (I know the Orthodox might be possibility for some people, but I live in a small town in rural South Carolina. I'm a long way from any Orthodox Church.) I believe the Catholic Church is right when it proclaims the bread and wine are made into the Body and Blood of Christ. Hopefully, one day, I will be able to receive these.
Anyway, just a few thoughts. I realize that the test of good doctrine is not whether it agrees with me and there are some things about Catholicism that challenge me also. But that's probably good for me too.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter!
Happy Easter to Everyone!!
I was right, my mood did improve a lot today. The service at church was wonderful. We had lunch at my wife's parents and the food was fantastic. The kids behaved and I even got a nap when we got home.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter. My thoughts and prayers are especially with those joining the Church this weekend. Congratulations and may God bless you.
He is Risen!
I was right, my mood did improve a lot today. The service at church was wonderful. We had lunch at my wife's parents and the food was fantastic. The kids behaved and I even got a nap when we got home.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter. My thoughts and prayers are especially with those joining the Church this weekend. Congratulations and may God bless you.
He is Risen!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Maundy Thursday at my Church
My wife, the kids and I went to the Maundy Thursday service at our church last night. First the good. The music was beautiful and moving. I was one of several people who read some scripture during the service and I managed to get through without mispronouncing anything or stumbling too bad over what I read. We had communion via the intinction method. While still not what I'd fully like communion to be, I prefer intinction much more than the usual way we do communion. (For a slightly longer take on my problem with the way we do communion, see here.)
Now the bad. The church was maybe a third full. (And that might be a generous estimate.) And, other than my two kids, there was only one child present. I asked a friend of mine who was also reading one of the lessons where his wife and kids were. He told me that one of our elders had made it clear to him that this wasn't a service for children. As you might imagine, this didn't sit real well with him. He said he wouldn't have come either if he hadn't already committed to read scripture during the service. Sigh. What a sad commentary on our church. We say we want to grow and everybody says they want more young families but here we are telling one of our most active young couples that their kids aren't welcome on one of the holiest nights of the year.
I contrast this with my experience last year on Maundy Thursday. The kids were on Spring Break from school and my wife took the kids to the mountains with her mother. I was being a bachelor and found myself in Charlotte that evening. Sort of on a whim, I went by St. Patrick Cathedral to see if I was near in time to their service. I was, so I went in. The service was beautiful. The main difference I noticed was that the church was almost full and there were tons of kids there. This made for some noise and some distraction, but I'd sure take that any day over the tomb like atmosphere at our mostly empty church last night.
I understand that kids are going to make some noise. And the more kids you have at church the less likely you are to have a lot of silence for contemplation. And, I know I heard more of the beautiful music last night than I did last year in Charlotte. But it seems to me we have to decide what is important to us. My desire for quiet contemplation isn't as important as having children active and participating in the life of our church.
I don't know what the future holds for me, and I'm not sure that the Catholic Church is the answer, but I've got to make a change at some point. I felt like I was in a dying church last night. It was 100% white, probably 75% over 50 and at most 30% full.
Sorry this post was so depressing, but hopefully, I'll be better by Easter morning. In the meantime, prayers for me and my family and our church are appreciated.
Now the bad. The church was maybe a third full. (And that might be a generous estimate.) And, other than my two kids, there was only one child present. I asked a friend of mine who was also reading one of the lessons where his wife and kids were. He told me that one of our elders had made it clear to him that this wasn't a service for children. As you might imagine, this didn't sit real well with him. He said he wouldn't have come either if he hadn't already committed to read scripture during the service. Sigh. What a sad commentary on our church. We say we want to grow and everybody says they want more young families but here we are telling one of our most active young couples that their kids aren't welcome on one of the holiest nights of the year.
I contrast this with my experience last year on Maundy Thursday. The kids were on Spring Break from school and my wife took the kids to the mountains with her mother. I was being a bachelor and found myself in Charlotte that evening. Sort of on a whim, I went by St. Patrick Cathedral to see if I was near in time to their service. I was, so I went in. The service was beautiful. The main difference I noticed was that the church was almost full and there were tons of kids there. This made for some noise and some distraction, but I'd sure take that any day over the tomb like atmosphere at our mostly empty church last night.
I understand that kids are going to make some noise. And the more kids you have at church the less likely you are to have a lot of silence for contemplation. And, I know I heard more of the beautiful music last night than I did last year in Charlotte. But it seems to me we have to decide what is important to us. My desire for quiet contemplation isn't as important as having children active and participating in the life of our church.
I don't know what the future holds for me, and I'm not sure that the Catholic Church is the answer, but I've got to make a change at some point. I felt like I was in a dying church last night. It was 100% white, probably 75% over 50 and at most 30% full.
Sorry this post was so depressing, but hopefully, I'll be better by Easter morning. In the meantime, prayers for me and my family and our church are appreciated.
Monday, March 3, 2008
The Value of Community
I had one of those days the other day. We all have them from time to time. One of the kids brought a note from the teacher home from school (not the good kind of note), the car needed some work and I wasn't getting paid for another week, the dog was sick, etc., etc. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. My plan for the evening was basically to sit around and lament my fate. You know, lots of self pity about how terrible my life was. Then my wife reminded me that we had committed to go to a supper at church. I really didn't feel like going, but my wife and kids really wanted to go, so I went.
When I got there I found out two pieces of news about members of our congregation. First a woman who had been an elder in our church and has a daughter about my daughter's age had been indicted in federal court for stealing money from the bank where she worked. Apparently there had been an article in the newspaper. Unfortunately, I've not seen them at any church function since this all became public. People in the congregation who have spoken to them indicate they are too embarrassed to come. How sad is that? I understand their feelings, but it seems like the church is the place they most need to be right now.
Secondly and even more tragically, we found out that another church member has had her cancer return and that it's basically untreatable and beyond hope at this point. This woman has three school aged children. Her husband is a basket case about this and, as you might imagine, the children are taking it pretty hard. Different groups in the church have begun taking meals to them and we're trying to figure out how best to help this young family as the situation worsens over the next several weeks or months.
Obviously, I felt pretty shallow whining about my little problems when I heard about what these two women and their families are dealing with. But my larger point is not just that I can be pretty self-centered and self-absorbed, but that I wouldn't have realized the depths of my self-absorption if it were not for the community of the church. We all need to be in community. Like a lot of young people, I went through one of those "I can worship God anywhere" periods when I was younger and stop going to church as a young adult. Boy was I wrong. First of all, I wasn't really worshiping God at all. I slept late a lot or engaged in activities that had nothing to do with the Lord. But even if I had been worshiping God, I would would have missed out on the challenges and benefits of being in community. It's easy to read about loving your enemies, but when someone you really dislike is sitting one pew over, it becomes a real challenge. You can think about loving your neighbor, but it doesn't really come home to you until you ponder how to help elementary school kids deal with the fact their Mom is dying.
I live in the south and there is a lot of focus in churches around here on having a "personal relationship with Jesus Christ." And that is certainly vital. But I wonder sometimes if that focus on the individual and his or her relationship to Christ doesn't take away somewhat from the value of being active and involved in a Christian Community. I keep thinking of the whole idea of there being no salvation outside the Church. Obviously, God can do whatever he wants and save whoever he wants, but if you look at salvation as meaning more than just what happens to us when we die, I think no salvation outside the church may be correct. Maybe I was saved by being drawn away from selfishness and self-absorption the other night. Perhaps I was being saved when I was forced to think of ways to help these fellow Christians who were suffering. Hopefully, I was saved when I hugged my children and my wife that night and gave thanks to God for their lives and health.
Anyway, please pray for these two families and thank God for all your blessings.
When I got there I found out two pieces of news about members of our congregation. First a woman who had been an elder in our church and has a daughter about my daughter's age had been indicted in federal court for stealing money from the bank where she worked. Apparently there had been an article in the newspaper. Unfortunately, I've not seen them at any church function since this all became public. People in the congregation who have spoken to them indicate they are too embarrassed to come. How sad is that? I understand their feelings, but it seems like the church is the place they most need to be right now.
Secondly and even more tragically, we found out that another church member has had her cancer return and that it's basically untreatable and beyond hope at this point. This woman has three school aged children. Her husband is a basket case about this and, as you might imagine, the children are taking it pretty hard. Different groups in the church have begun taking meals to them and we're trying to figure out how best to help this young family as the situation worsens over the next several weeks or months.
Obviously, I felt pretty shallow whining about my little problems when I heard about what these two women and their families are dealing with. But my larger point is not just that I can be pretty self-centered and self-absorbed, but that I wouldn't have realized the depths of my self-absorption if it were not for the community of the church. We all need to be in community. Like a lot of young people, I went through one of those "I can worship God anywhere" periods when I was younger and stop going to church as a young adult. Boy was I wrong. First of all, I wasn't really worshiping God at all. I slept late a lot or engaged in activities that had nothing to do with the Lord. But even if I had been worshiping God, I would would have missed out on the challenges and benefits of being in community. It's easy to read about loving your enemies, but when someone you really dislike is sitting one pew over, it becomes a real challenge. You can think about loving your neighbor, but it doesn't really come home to you until you ponder how to help elementary school kids deal with the fact their Mom is dying.
I live in the south and there is a lot of focus in churches around here on having a "personal relationship with Jesus Christ." And that is certainly vital. But I wonder sometimes if that focus on the individual and his or her relationship to Christ doesn't take away somewhat from the value of being active and involved in a Christian Community. I keep thinking of the whole idea of there being no salvation outside the Church. Obviously, God can do whatever he wants and save whoever he wants, but if you look at salvation as meaning more than just what happens to us when we die, I think no salvation outside the church may be correct. Maybe I was saved by being drawn away from selfishness and self-absorption the other night. Perhaps I was being saved when I was forced to think of ways to help these fellow Christians who were suffering. Hopefully, I was saved when I hugged my children and my wife that night and gave thanks to God for their lives and health.
Anyway, please pray for these two families and thank God for all your blessings.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
The Seven Last Words of the Church
In the midst of our current change in pastoral leadership at my church, we've been hearing a lot of sermons on change. How to react, how not to react, etc. I recently heard one that made reference to the so-called seven last words of the church: "We've never done it like that before."
Over the years, I've heard that in sermons many, many times. The point is that as soon as we start to say that in church, we begin to die as a congregation. And I think there is some truth to it. As a church, we can become so stuck in our ways that we begin to worship our style of worship rather than God. (I once heard the following quip: Catholics worship Mary, Fundamentalists worship the Bible, Episcopalians worship their own sense of style. Just a joke, no offense intended to anyone.) But the older I get and the more crazy things I have seen in church, I'm beginning to think saying "We've never done it like that before" is not only not all that bad, sometimes it's required. Take, for example, the Zydeco Mass.
Watching this makes me wish someone had said "We've never done it like this before."
Maybe this kind of thing just points out an inherent problem with Protestantism. There isn't anyone to say no. In churches that are governed congregationally, a majority of the congregation can do just about whatever they want to do. Even in hierarchical Protestant churches, there is a reluctance to stifle creativity. And, of course, the opinions of the hierarchy certainly aren't infallible.
I'm not sure there is any simple solution to how to balance the necessity to be open to change with a respect for tradition. But it seems to me that there are a lot worse things a church can say than "We've never done it like that before."
Over the years, I've heard that in sermons many, many times. The point is that as soon as we start to say that in church, we begin to die as a congregation. And I think there is some truth to it. As a church, we can become so stuck in our ways that we begin to worship our style of worship rather than God. (I once heard the following quip: Catholics worship Mary, Fundamentalists worship the Bible, Episcopalians worship their own sense of style. Just a joke, no offense intended to anyone.) But the older I get and the more crazy things I have seen in church, I'm beginning to think saying "We've never done it like that before" is not only not all that bad, sometimes it's required. Take, for example, the Zydeco Mass.
Watching this makes me wish someone had said "We've never done it like this before."
Maybe this kind of thing just points out an inherent problem with Protestantism. There isn't anyone to say no. In churches that are governed congregationally, a majority of the congregation can do just about whatever they want to do. Even in hierarchical Protestant churches, there is a reluctance to stifle creativity. And, of course, the opinions of the hierarchy certainly aren't infallible.
I'm not sure there is any simple solution to how to balance the necessity to be open to change with a respect for tradition. But it seems to me that there are a lot worse things a church can say than "We've never done it like that before."
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Ash Wednesday at a Catholic Church
I found myself near Charlotte, North Carolina around lunchtime on Ash Wednesday. I was right next to St. Matthew Catholic Church. Since they were having a 12:10 service, I decided to go. I've been to Ash Wednesday services at Episcopal and Presbyterian churches, but never at a Catholic one. I'm glad I went. A few observations:
The church is huge. I went to a friend's wedding at a huge Baptist church in Dallas, Texas that was bigger, but this was a close second. Our church seats around 200 to 250 (and we're lucky if we're averaging 110 these days), so this was a big change for me. The service I went to was one of four or five that day and it was pretty full, so I'm sure they have a big crowd on Sundays. The logistics of dealing regularly with that many people must be pretty daunting, but I thought they handled everything pretty well. People seemed friendly enough, but no one went out of their way to speak to me. Of course, some of that was my fault, since I was in a little bit of a hurry to leave due to work isssues.
Only two clergy, one Priest and one Deacon, participated in the service. This meant that most of the distribution of ashes and later of the Eucharist was done by lay people. I don't know if this was due solely to the service being one of several that day or if this is the usual pattern here due to a shortage of clergy. This didn't bother me at all, but it certainly contradicts the notion of the Catholic Church being run solely by Priests. I don't see how in the world a church this size could be run without most of the work being done by laypeople.
At the Protestant Ash Wednesday services I've attended, the ashes were imposed with the minister saying something along the lines of "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return." At St. Matthew's we were told something like "Repent and believe the Gospel." (I may not have that exactly right, it's been a few days.) I found the difference in emphasis (mortality vs. penitence) thought provoking. Do they always say this at Catholic churches or do they alternate what is said? And when the Eucharist was distributed, it was only given in one form. Is it the usual practice to omit the wine?
Anyway, I'm glad I went. In the midst of our transition in leadership at my church, we did not have an Ash Wednesday service this year. Though perhaps quite appropriately, the first Sunday after our minister has left is the first Sunday of Lent. It was a service and message I needed to hear.
The church is huge. I went to a friend's wedding at a huge Baptist church in Dallas, Texas that was bigger, but this was a close second. Our church seats around 200 to 250 (and we're lucky if we're averaging 110 these days), so this was a big change for me. The service I went to was one of four or five that day and it was pretty full, so I'm sure they have a big crowd on Sundays. The logistics of dealing regularly with that many people must be pretty daunting, but I thought they handled everything pretty well. People seemed friendly enough, but no one went out of their way to speak to me. Of course, some of that was my fault, since I was in a little bit of a hurry to leave due to work isssues.
Only two clergy, one Priest and one Deacon, participated in the service. This meant that most of the distribution of ashes and later of the Eucharist was done by lay people. I don't know if this was due solely to the service being one of several that day or if this is the usual pattern here due to a shortage of clergy. This didn't bother me at all, but it certainly contradicts the notion of the Catholic Church being run solely by Priests. I don't see how in the world a church this size could be run without most of the work being done by laypeople.
At the Protestant Ash Wednesday services I've attended, the ashes were imposed with the minister saying something along the lines of "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return." At St. Matthew's we were told something like "Repent and believe the Gospel." (I may not have that exactly right, it's been a few days.) I found the difference in emphasis (mortality vs. penitence) thought provoking. Do they always say this at Catholic churches or do they alternate what is said? And when the Eucharist was distributed, it was only given in one form. Is it the usual practice to omit the wine?
Anyway, I'm glad I went. In the midst of our transition in leadership at my church, we did not have an Ash Wednesday service this year. Though perhaps quite appropriately, the first Sunday after our minister has left is the first Sunday of Lent. It was a service and message I needed to hear.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
My Confessor, My Friend
Good article today in South Carolina's largest newspaper. Sounds like his new church is getting a great Priest. You can read the full article here. My favorite part:
I know Tim’s wise counsel helped me through my divorce and the subsequent years of injury and illness. He never cut me a break, though — he toed the official line on what is considered right and wrong — but he didn’t judge me. He pushed me to do more but to always be true to myself while improving my relationship with God.
I know Tim’s wise counsel helped me through my divorce and the subsequent years of injury and illness. He never cut me a break, though — he toed the official line on what is considered right and wrong — but he didn’t judge me. He pushed me to do more but to always be true to myself while improving my relationship with God.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Political Orphans in 2008
There is an excellent piece in the Washington Post today that captures how I feel about the 2008 election. There's not an easy candidate for a liberal who is pro-life like me to support. Here is a quote:
You can read the entire article here. Found the discussion of this article at Charlotte was Both.
During many elections we find ourselves facing the same dilemma: Which of
our values must take a back seat when we go to the voting booth? Do we let our
moral concern for peaceful resolutions of conflict, the environment, addressing
poverty and aggressive enforcement of civil rights guide our choices? Or do we
stand firm on another important issue of conscience and signal our hope for an
end to abortion? Often, both choices leave a bad taste in our mouths.
You can read the entire article here. Found the discussion of this article at Charlotte was Both.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Changing Pastors
I think I mentioned in an earlier post that my church was having some controversy over our current pastor. Well, things have finally come to a head and our minister is leaving. It's an unfortunate situation, and there is plenty of fault to go around. Several observations come to mind:
The job of a pastor (or priest, rector, minister) is a hard one. You have a lot of different people to please and it's almost impossible to keep everybody happy. (In fact, if you're not ruffling a few feathers, maybe you're not doing your job right.) Every congregation is different and some people might be a great match for one congregation and not for another. Whether the decision is made by one person like a bishop or by a committee from the congregation, it is a very important decision and one that needs serious thought and deliberation. One of our problems was that I think we rushed into the decision too quickly. I understand that we also got some pressure to call this person from our presbytery since he was one of the first graduates from a program they had started to encourage second career pastors. I think he's a good man, but I could tell from the beginning that he was very different from what most people expected and I wondered if he would be a good fit. Time has shown that he wasn't.
The job of pastor's spouse may be even harder. Quite unfairly, most people view the minister's wife as an unpaid member of the staff. If the spouse has a great personality and the patience of Job, she can be a great asset to the minister. However, if she has a prickly personality and not a lot of desire to spend all her free time at church functions, people will grumble. When you've already got people complaining about the pastor, the last thing you need is a lot of griping about his spouse. All theological arguments about celibacy aside, at least in a Catholic church, you don't get people complaining about the priest's wife.
The process leading to the decision for us to part ways went better than I expected. I grew up in the United Methodist Church. As expressed in this blog, I have some interest in Catholicism. I like the idea of a bishop ultimately being able to make a decision in a case like this. I was very skeptical going in of the process we went through. The Committee on Ministry of our presbytery sent "listening teams" to our church. People signed up for times to speak with them about the life of our church and our strengths and weaknesses. They then produced a report for our Session. (The committee of Elders that governs the church for you non-Presbyterians.) I bet my wife (who is on the Session) a nice dinner out that all we would get from them was some sort of touchy-feely report saying some of you like him and some of you don't and you should just try to get along.
Well, I owe her a meal. The report was a detailed and candid assessment of where we were and how we got there. Beyond the question of how the minister was doing, it offered a pretty realistic picture of our strengths and weaknesses as a congregation. Most surprisingly to me, it came right out and recommended that the situation between the minister and the majority of the congregation was beyond the hope of repair and that we should part ways. They offered to help to negotiate a severance package. There are many thing about the Presbyterian Church that drive me crazy, but this went better than I expected. I'd be interested in knowing how such disputes are handled in other denominations.
Anyway, prayers are needed for our our minister as he discerns his future and for my church as we embark on a time of uncertainty as we search for another pastor. Keep all of us in your prayers.
The job of a pastor (or priest, rector, minister) is a hard one. You have a lot of different people to please and it's almost impossible to keep everybody happy. (In fact, if you're not ruffling a few feathers, maybe you're not doing your job right.) Every congregation is different and some people might be a great match for one congregation and not for another. Whether the decision is made by one person like a bishop or by a committee from the congregation, it is a very important decision and one that needs serious thought and deliberation. One of our problems was that I think we rushed into the decision too quickly. I understand that we also got some pressure to call this person from our presbytery since he was one of the first graduates from a program they had started to encourage second career pastors. I think he's a good man, but I could tell from the beginning that he was very different from what most people expected and I wondered if he would be a good fit. Time has shown that he wasn't.
The job of pastor's spouse may be even harder. Quite unfairly, most people view the minister's wife as an unpaid member of the staff. If the spouse has a great personality and the patience of Job, she can be a great asset to the minister. However, if she has a prickly personality and not a lot of desire to spend all her free time at church functions, people will grumble. When you've already got people complaining about the pastor, the last thing you need is a lot of griping about his spouse. All theological arguments about celibacy aside, at least in a Catholic church, you don't get people complaining about the priest's wife.
The process leading to the decision for us to part ways went better than I expected. I grew up in the United Methodist Church. As expressed in this blog, I have some interest in Catholicism. I like the idea of a bishop ultimately being able to make a decision in a case like this. I was very skeptical going in of the process we went through. The Committee on Ministry of our presbytery sent "listening teams" to our church. People signed up for times to speak with them about the life of our church and our strengths and weaknesses. They then produced a report for our Session. (The committee of Elders that governs the church for you non-Presbyterians.) I bet my wife (who is on the Session) a nice dinner out that all we would get from them was some sort of touchy-feely report saying some of you like him and some of you don't and you should just try to get along.
Well, I owe her a meal. The report was a detailed and candid assessment of where we were and how we got there. Beyond the question of how the minister was doing, it offered a pretty realistic picture of our strengths and weaknesses as a congregation. Most surprisingly to me, it came right out and recommended that the situation between the minister and the majority of the congregation was beyond the hope of repair and that we should part ways. They offered to help to negotiate a severance package. There are many thing about the Presbyterian Church that drive me crazy, but this went better than I expected. I'd be interested in knowing how such disputes are handled in other denominations.
Anyway, prayers are needed for our our minister as he discerns his future and for my church as we embark on a time of uncertainty as we search for another pastor. Keep all of us in your prayers.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
My Life with the Saints
I just finished reading My Life with the Saints by James Martin, SJ. I thought it was great. A couple of quick thoughts that reflect on my consideration of Catholicism:
First, we Protestants are really missing out by not talking about the saints. I understand that Protestants don't share the same beliefs about praying to saints or their intercessory power. However, I don't understand why we don't talk about them at all. For example, the story of Charles Lwanga and the other Ugandan martyrs should be held up to all Christians as an example of faith and courage. And yet, I had never even heard of the story until reading this book. And the Little Way of St. Therese of Lisieux should be a help to all Christians in our walk with Christ. The Protestant reluctance to discuss the saints reminds me of our fear of the Virgin Mary. We're so afraid of the Catholic practices concerning Mary that we decide we just won't talk about her at all. This is our loss.
Secondly, I was struck by the diversity of the Catholic Church. All the different religious orders. Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans, Missionaries of Charity, Poor Clares, etc. etc. And the very different personalities of their founders. St. Ignatius was so different from St. Francis. And he was different from Mother Teresa. It struck me that if they had been Protestants, they might have just started their own denomination. What a strength of the Catholic Church that these different groups with different strengths and weaknesses and points of emphasis are still in communion with one another. I think this is a better Christian witness to the world that the hundreds and hundreds of different Protestant denominations.
Anyway, I really like the book. I'm trying to find some other good reading materials on the lives of the saints. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
First, we Protestants are really missing out by not talking about the saints. I understand that Protestants don't share the same beliefs about praying to saints or their intercessory power. However, I don't understand why we don't talk about them at all. For example, the story of Charles Lwanga and the other Ugandan martyrs should be held up to all Christians as an example of faith and courage. And yet, I had never even heard of the story until reading this book. And the Little Way of St. Therese of Lisieux should be a help to all Christians in our walk with Christ. The Protestant reluctance to discuss the saints reminds me of our fear of the Virgin Mary. We're so afraid of the Catholic practices concerning Mary that we decide we just won't talk about her at all. This is our loss.
Secondly, I was struck by the diversity of the Catholic Church. All the different religious orders. Jesuits, Franciscans, Dominicans, Missionaries of Charity, Poor Clares, etc. etc. And the very different personalities of their founders. St. Ignatius was so different from St. Francis. And he was different from Mother Teresa. It struck me that if they had been Protestants, they might have just started their own denomination. What a strength of the Catholic Church that these different groups with different strengths and weaknesses and points of emphasis are still in communion with one another. I think this is a better Christian witness to the world that the hundreds and hundreds of different Protestant denominations.
Anyway, I really like the book. I'm trying to find some other good reading materials on the lives of the saints. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Mennonite to Catholic?
Back in 2006 an article came out in Christian Century describing the conversion of six Protestant theologians to Catholicism. It's an interesting article and well worth reading. I was most intrigued by the story of Gerald Schlabach. He was a Mennonite before his conversion. Here is my favorite part of the article:
The Mennonites are one of the "Peace Churches" (along with the Quakers and the Brethren) and have historically been pacifists. Now, I'm not a pacifist, but as I mentioned earlier, I'm a pretty liberal guy. I've also had some involvement with peace groups in the past . So I was curious and "used the Google" and found that Schlabach has a website and sounds like an interesting guy. There is a page devoted to his conversion to Catholicism (you can view it here) and he has some interesting writings. Apparently I'm not the only left winger attracted to Catholicism.
Schlabach sees the Catholic Church as the best hope for a reunion of
"liberal" and "conservative," "protestant" and "catholic" visions of the
church: "Imagine a church . . . that could not sing without feeding the
poor, nor feed the poor without nourishment from the Eucharist, nor pass the
peace without living peaceably in the world, nor be peacemakers without
depending on prayer, nor pray without joining in robust song."
The Mennonites are one of the "Peace Churches" (along with the Quakers and the Brethren) and have historically been pacifists. Now, I'm not a pacifist, but as I mentioned earlier, I'm a pretty liberal guy. I've also had some involvement with peace groups in the past . So I was curious and "used the Google" and found that Schlabach has a website and sounds like an interesting guy. There is a page devoted to his conversion to Catholicism (you can view it here) and he has some interesting writings. Apparently I'm not the only left winger attracted to Catholicism.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Some Practical Concerns
Enough of the "Deep Thoughts" type issues, there are some more practical concerns about becoming Catholic. First of all, I live in a very small town and attend my church almost every service. It's hard to visit another church anonymously. It would be kind of a big deal if I showed up one Sunday at the local Catholic Church. OK, I know it's not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but these are my petty problems I'm listing. :) Additionally, our church is currently undergoing a controversy over our current pastor. (The short version is that he's a really nice guy, but it was probably a bad match from the start.) We've lost some members over the last year or so and he's gotten the blame for it. If I start publicly looking around, people will assume I'm mad at him and I don't want to undermine him any right now. I like living in a small town, but it's times like these I wish we lived in a big city and were members of a really big church.
But the biggest issue involves my immediate family. My wife and kids are very happy at our current church. As I mentioned in an earlier post, this is the church my wife grew up in. Other than when she was off in college and a couple of years after when she worked out of town, she has never been a member at another church. I was told numerous times by my in-laws (who are great people, I am very lucky in that department) that our children were the seventh generation to be baptized in our church. Yes, my wife's family was one of the founding families way back when. So I hope you see how leaving this church is not really simple. And this is the only church my children have ever known. They are both active in Sunday School and other activities. Who am I to disrupt that?
There is one possibility that occurs to me, but I would appreciate any feedback from others who've tried something like this. Because the Catholic Church in our town shares a Priest with another larger Church in a nearby town, their only service on Sunday is at 9:00 AM. I guess I could attend Mass at 9 and still go to our service at 11:00. But I don't know how that would really work out. Has anyone ever tried something like this and did it work?
Thanks for the advice everyone.
But the biggest issue involves my immediate family. My wife and kids are very happy at our current church. As I mentioned in an earlier post, this is the church my wife grew up in. Other than when she was off in college and a couple of years after when she worked out of town, she has never been a member at another church. I was told numerous times by my in-laws (who are great people, I am very lucky in that department) that our children were the seventh generation to be baptized in our church. Yes, my wife's family was one of the founding families way back when. So I hope you see how leaving this church is not really simple. And this is the only church my children have ever known. They are both active in Sunday School and other activities. Who am I to disrupt that?
There is one possibility that occurs to me, but I would appreciate any feedback from others who've tried something like this. Because the Catholic Church in our town shares a Priest with another larger Church in a nearby town, their only service on Sunday is at 9:00 AM. I guess I could attend Mass at 9 and still go to our service at 11:00. But I don't know how that would really work out. Has anyone ever tried something like this and did it work?
Thanks for the advice everyone.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
How enthusiastically must you believe?
Well, if you've made it this far and still care, I'm sure the question that comes to mind is "why isn't he Catholic already?" Before I get to some practical problems and issues about conversion, I'd like some insight into a more philosophical problem that's been bothering me. I understand that when someone becomes Catholic they must profess to believe all that the Catholic Church teaches to be true. I would not convert until I could say that in good conscience. But how enthusiastic must someone be about a particular teaching?
Take for example. women's ordination. I don't know what it says about me, but this has been the issue that has caused me the most problem as I've wrestled with my attraction to Catholicism. I've read many accounts online of people that have struggled with the dogmas about Purgatory and Mary and the Saints, but these issues have not bothered me much at all. I have no trouble believing and professing the Catholic positions on these issues to be true. But women's ordination has taken me a while longer. I first thought that this position was due to some view of women as incapable of leadership. I now understand that the all male priesthood is due to the Catholic understanding of what a Priest is and what he does.
But here is my question, do I have to like it? If I accepted and believed that an all male priesthood is required, would I be a bad Catholic for being a little sad that this is so? In other words, if you accept that something is true and you don't do anything to contradict the teaching, how enthusiastic must you be? Periodically, I read online a story about some women being "ordained" as Catholic Priests. The reaction in the blogosphere is usually either anger or derision. My reaction is much more one of sadness. I'm sad that they can't be Priests and I'm sad that they don't understand why they can't. Should I be concerned that they don't make me angry?
I know I should probably sit down and talk to a Priest about this, but doing so presents some practical problems that I'll address in my next post. Until then, I'm open to all the free advice I can get, just please be gentle on me.
Take for example. women's ordination. I don't know what it says about me, but this has been the issue that has caused me the most problem as I've wrestled with my attraction to Catholicism. I've read many accounts online of people that have struggled with the dogmas about Purgatory and Mary and the Saints, but these issues have not bothered me much at all. I have no trouble believing and professing the Catholic positions on these issues to be true. But women's ordination has taken me a while longer. I first thought that this position was due to some view of women as incapable of leadership. I now understand that the all male priesthood is due to the Catholic understanding of what a Priest is and what he does.
But here is my question, do I have to like it? If I accepted and believed that an all male priesthood is required, would I be a bad Catholic for being a little sad that this is so? In other words, if you accept that something is true and you don't do anything to contradict the teaching, how enthusiastic must you be? Periodically, I read online a story about some women being "ordained" as Catholic Priests. The reaction in the blogosphere is usually either anger or derision. My reaction is much more one of sadness. I'm sad that they can't be Priests and I'm sad that they don't understand why they can't. Should I be concerned that they don't make me angry?
I know I should probably sit down and talk to a Priest about this, but doing so presents some practical problems that I'll address in my next post. Until then, I'm open to all the free advice I can get, just please be gentle on me.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
My Attraction to Catholicism, Part Two
Some other things that appeal to me about Catholicism.
I'm a history nerd. (Minored in it in college.) I like the fact that history goes back further than the Reformation. I'm sure this is a gross generalization, but judging by my completely unscientific recollection of a lifetime of Sunday School and sermons, the history of Christianity goes something like this: 1. Jesus 2. The Book of Acts 3. The Protestant Reformation 4. Everything since. I know I'm exaggerating, but I do hate that I almost never hear about the early church as a Protestant. There is a whole legacy of sacrifice and nonviolence (even to the point of laying down one's own life) that would be helpful and inspirational to Christians today.
Also, no matter how brilliant Luther and Calvin were, Christian thought did not begin with them. Protestants are in many ways cut off from great minds like Augustine and Aquinas. (Or if we receive them and other early fathers of the Church, we receive them as interpreted by Reformation thinkers.) I like the intellectual tradition of Catholicism. As I wrestle with issues today, I like knowing that people a lot smarter than me have been thinking about them for two thousand years.
I'm also a big believer in the consistent ethic of life. For as long as I've been able to think seriously about such things, I've been opposed to the death penalty. My views on abortion have changed over time. Before marriage and children, I was pro-choice basically on women's rights grounds. I thought the notion of forcing a woman to have a child she didn't want was cruel and represented government intrusion into an area beyond the competence of government. I also thought that as a man, I lacked the standing (to use a legal term) to be against abortion. In other words, if I was physically incapable of having babies, I shouldn't be offering an opinion on whether a woman should have one or not.
Like many things, marriage, and most importantly having children of my own, has changed my thinking on abortion. Let me begin by saying that I am still very sympathetic to women facing an unplanned pregnancy. They face pain and difficulties (both financial and to their health) that are extremely severe. But it's hard to have watched ultrasounds of my children and view abortion as just another medical procedure. Even before the ultrasounds, we heard fetal heart beats very early on. I don't see how you can argue that there is not a life in there. And when it comes to what protection this life deserves, I think we as Christians should err on the side of protecting these most vulnerable members of the human race. That comports with the command of Jesus to care for "the least of these."
Now I understand that all issues are not equal. But to be against both abortion and the death penalty makes sense to me. In fact, the whole range of positions the Catholic Church holds on social justice issues has a logical consistency that I find lacking in most Protestant denominations, whether they are liberal or conservative. And while the test for good doctrine is certainly not "does it agree with me?" I find that on issue after issue in the social justice area (immigration, torture, war, euthanasia, and many others) I find my positions aligning more and more with that of the Catholic Church.
Well, if you've read this far on this blog, you may be asking yourself "so why isn't he Catholic already?" The answers to that question will begin in my next post.
I'm a history nerd. (Minored in it in college.) I like the fact that history goes back further than the Reformation. I'm sure this is a gross generalization, but judging by my completely unscientific recollection of a lifetime of Sunday School and sermons, the history of Christianity goes something like this: 1. Jesus 2. The Book of Acts 3. The Protestant Reformation 4. Everything since. I know I'm exaggerating, but I do hate that I almost never hear about the early church as a Protestant. There is a whole legacy of sacrifice and nonviolence (even to the point of laying down one's own life) that would be helpful and inspirational to Christians today.
Also, no matter how brilliant Luther and Calvin were, Christian thought did not begin with them. Protestants are in many ways cut off from great minds like Augustine and Aquinas. (Or if we receive them and other early fathers of the Church, we receive them as interpreted by Reformation thinkers.) I like the intellectual tradition of Catholicism. As I wrestle with issues today, I like knowing that people a lot smarter than me have been thinking about them for two thousand years.
I'm also a big believer in the consistent ethic of life. For as long as I've been able to think seriously about such things, I've been opposed to the death penalty. My views on abortion have changed over time. Before marriage and children, I was pro-choice basically on women's rights grounds. I thought the notion of forcing a woman to have a child she didn't want was cruel and represented government intrusion into an area beyond the competence of government. I also thought that as a man, I lacked the standing (to use a legal term) to be against abortion. In other words, if I was physically incapable of having babies, I shouldn't be offering an opinion on whether a woman should have one or not.
Like many things, marriage, and most importantly having children of my own, has changed my thinking on abortion. Let me begin by saying that I am still very sympathetic to women facing an unplanned pregnancy. They face pain and difficulties (both financial and to their health) that are extremely severe. But it's hard to have watched ultrasounds of my children and view abortion as just another medical procedure. Even before the ultrasounds, we heard fetal heart beats very early on. I don't see how you can argue that there is not a life in there. And when it comes to what protection this life deserves, I think we as Christians should err on the side of protecting these most vulnerable members of the human race. That comports with the command of Jesus to care for "the least of these."
Now I understand that all issues are not equal. But to be against both abortion and the death penalty makes sense to me. In fact, the whole range of positions the Catholic Church holds on social justice issues has a logical consistency that I find lacking in most Protestant denominations, whether they are liberal or conservative. And while the test for good doctrine is certainly not "does it agree with me?" I find that on issue after issue in the social justice area (immigration, torture, war, euthanasia, and many others) I find my positions aligning more and more with that of the Catholic Church.
Well, if you've read this far on this blog, you may be asking yourself "so why isn't he Catholic already?" The answers to that question will begin in my next post.
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