About Me

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I work as a teacher, poet and spiritual director at a number of institutions in the DC area. My teaching focuses in various ways on writing, poetry, Spirituality and Christian vocation and ministry - especially from the point of view of the laity. I also offer classes and retreats encouraging people to explore their inner lives, engage their creativity and reflect on their beliefs about God, vocation, and how we can discern and pursue new ways to transform our broken world. I enjoy speaking of faith in the secular academy as well as reminding those preparing for ministry in the Church that our primary purpose is to love and serve the world beyond the church's doors. I love helping people to grow in faith and to find their own voices, and I also love encouraging them to use their minds. I see no contradiction between these impulses, believing as I do that faith, reason and creativity work together.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

What is the Church for?

(also posted September 25 on Episcopal Cafe)

What is the church for? In a 1938 lecture series on the BBC, collected in her book The Spiritual Life, the British writer and retreat leader Evelyn Underhill answered the question in a way that has challenged the church for the past century.

The Church is in the world to save the world. It is a tool of God for that purpose; not a comfortable religious club established in fine historical premises. Every one of its members is required, in one way or another, to cooperate with the Spirit in working for that great end: and much of this work will be done in secret and invisible ways,. We are transmitters as well as receivers. Our contemplation and our action, our humble self-opening to God, keeping ourselves sensitive to his music and light, and our generous self-opening to our our fellow creatures, keeping ourselves sensitive to their needs, ought to form one life, mediating between God and His world, and bringing the saving power of the Eternal into time.

Underhill appropriately focuses on the church’s mission in and for the world; to her mostly Church of England audience, she is challenging the image of the Church that became comfortable during the long centuries of what Loren Mead has labeled the “Christendom” paradigm, when most people were nominal Christians, even churchgoers, and the mission of the Church was seen as being overseas, far away and directed toward people distinctly “other” than the people in the pews. Mission was supported by the institution, or pursued by volunteers overseas, in the name of church-based organizations; for the people in the pews, church attendance was a regular social obligation, to be taken with more or less seriousness depending on one’s particular spiritual needs and dispositions: to be part of a church was to support “a comfortable religious club.”

But Underhill recognizes that the institutional model, the “comfortable religious club” is not a true embodiment of what the Church is called to be. Rather, each of us has a part to play in the mysterious work of God in the world, the Spirit’s work to restore, reconcile and heal. Her work focuses on the spiritual practices of the individual as guaranteeing the health of the “cells” in the Body of Christ on earth. For her, ordinary Christians, each of us pursuing the work that has been given us, are the ones who carry out the saving work of the Church, “bringing the saving power of the eternal into time.” In this short paragraph she lays out a theology of the ministry of all God’s people – the laos – in the world.

Underhill’s image of the Church in the world invites what I might call a “poetic” way of looking at the church, the people of God – seeing the Church as a kind of work of art that communicates something to the world. It might seem that our disputes in the Anglican community about whom we may ordain and who decides how we should read Scripture have little to do with the ministry of the people in and for the world, but actually, poetically, they are important. Because we are an ordered church, our disputes about who we are and how we serve the world have focused, for the past 50 years, on whom we ordain. This may be appropriate to some extent since the ordained leaders of the Church do function as “metonymies” for our corporate identity – they are the parts standing for a whole. So if we claim to be an inclusive community, living and proclaiming the gospel in and for the world around us, it makes sense poetically that our visible leaders should reflect the diversity of the world we live in and the world we serve. If the world looks at us as a corporate body and sees inclusiveness in our leadership and our practice, then we are communicating something about the hospitality of God. If they see us finding ways to stay together in Christ while holding a diversity of views, that is a revolutionary witness for our deeply polarized times. On the other hand, if all that the world sees is fighting and schism and mutual recrimination, then we are losing track of our real identity and purpose.

I turn to Underhill’s description of the purpose of the church in my prayers for the Episcopal Church and the Anglican communion at this time, remembering that we are part of something much bigger that we believe God is trying to do through us, the people of God, in the world. I take comfort, too, from a beloved hymn we sing pretty often these days, and appropriately so – not least because its title reminds us of who we are: “The Church’s One Foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord”. I was particularly glad that it was part of the Commencement liturgy at Virginia Seminary last June - and posted about it at the time. But here it is again.

Though with a scornful wonder, men see her sore oppressed
By schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed
Yet saints their watch are keeping. Their cry goes up,”How long?”
And soon the night of weeping will be the morn of song. (Hymnal 525)

These words remind us that our tradition’s vision of the church as a “mystical body” is meant to give strength and energy to us as we try to live up to being the “Church visible" -the Communion of Saints “in the world to save the world, a tool of God for that purpose.” This vision does not deny that we have struggles and divisions. But both Underhill’s writing and the hymn call us back to awareness of our greater purpose and calling. It is a vision that sometimes seems improbable, but it is one that we are called to return to and refashion in our own generation, as faithfully as we can.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Christianity from the Outside

I'm teaching a college seminar called "Ideas of God in Scripture and Literature" in which an important discipline for me is to try to get some distance and come fresh to the texts of Hebrew Scripture, the New Testament and Qu'ran before we launch into analysis of some literary works. Today we did a class exercise giving an overview of monotheistic traditions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam, and students were asked to report on a tradition unfamiliar to them, based on some readings, and say what they learned. It was interesting to me (because it was in the reading, but students didn't pick up on it) that the thing that was left off the list of important things to know about Christianity was the centrality of Jesus for Christians, and the identification of Jesus's message with God's love for all humanity.
What stood out for them instead were the various conflicts -- the Council of Nicaea, the different ways of understanding atonement, the branches of Christianity -orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, Protestantism and the sectarian groups within Protestantism. There's a lot to explore in our tradition, a lot of conversation with the mystery. But it is distressing that we are known mainly for our controversies (The other question that came up was "concupiscience" and the whole idea, starting with St. Augustine, that original sin is connected to the sexual act - that sex is bad (therefore Mary had to be a virgin so Jesus could be born of someone pure) -- an idea that just makes no sense to me given Scripture's affirmation of the goodness of creation and bodily life. It's pretty sad that this is what we're known for. (I won't even go into the fights in my own denomination about whether we can stay together while disagreeing about human sexuality).

Judaism and Islam, on the other hand, were identified largely according to their practices, in student reporting-back. It makes me think: what practices identify us, as Christians? how clear it is it that we live in a certain way, or engage in certain practices, because we are followers of Jesus and we are responding in joy to his call? Doctrine is interesting and endlessly discussable and debatable. I love that debate and discussion. But what this post-Christendom world mainly knows about practicing Christians is that they're the ones who say, "Believe what I believe or you're going to hell - I have the truth and you don't." And that we fight a lot over whose beliefs are right, who's in and who's out. ( In contrast to the New Testament's focus on who's in, especially in Paul's letters (See Galatians 3:28). What practices come out of, and demonstrate, our living faith in a Risen Lord? What do we do because we are followers of Jesus, and how does that reflect the joy we find in responding to His call? Who is Jesus for us? How is all this good news?

These are real questions that the world has about us, as Christians. The early Church father Tertullian wrote of those who saw the early Christian communities as practicing a countercultural way of life and exclaimed, "See how they love one another!" Does anyone say that about us now, distinguishing us from the world around us?
Something to ponder.