True Nonconformity

“Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh” (Romans 13:14).

“The television commercial is not at all about the character of products to be consumed.  It is about the character of the consumers of products.  Images of movie stars and famous athletes, of serene lakes and macho fishing trips, of elegant dinners and romantic interludes, of happy families packing their station wagons for a picnic in the country–these tell nothing about the product being sold.  But they tell everything about the fears, fancies and dreams of those who might buy them.  What the advertiser needs to know is not what is right about the product but what is wrong about the buyer” (Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death, 128).

Advertising, at this point in our cultural development, is the proverbial straw that stirs the drink.  We know that.  Instinctively, somehow, it makes sense.  If consumption is the gas that drives the capitalist machine, we understand that somehow or another we must be motivated to go to the pump and do our part to keep the whole thing humming along.  Of course, advertisers do not want us to think of it in such vulgar terms.  Otherwise, the magic would be gone.  Rather, advertising is designed to keep us from thinking much at all, except insofar as it can get us to think about ourselves.  And in that sense, advertising is less concerned with selling us a new product as it is with selling us a new vision of ourselves as the sort of people who might benefit from buying a product.

In other words, commercials are inherently preachy.  Only the moralizing is so subtle that we hardly even notice it.  Later Postman says, “The television commercial is about products only in the sense that the story of Jonah is about the anatomy of whales, which is to say, it isn’t.  Which is to say further, it is about how one ought to live one’s life” (p. 131).  The seduction happens so effortlessly that we hardly even feel it.

Why, though?  Why does it work so well?  I think commercials have the power to shape us because we are so preoccupied with ourselves.  It seems as though we care less about being good people, for example, than about being perceived as good people.  Why?  Because while actually being good takes a great deal of hard work, looking like a good person takes very little effort at all–just the right kind of aftershave and life insurance.  Nowadays, one doesn’t actually have to put in the grueling hours it used to take to be smart; one need merely stay in the right hotel.

Paul, however, suggests a way to release us from the relentless grip of commercial culture.  He tells us to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh.”  If what we are primarily concerned about happens not to be our own image, but that of the one who gives us a self with which to be concerned in the first place, then psychodramas about acne and sports utility vehicles will have lost their power over us.  By understanding that what we truly need is not the tweaking provided by the right brand of toothpaste or the coolest brand of beer, we begin to see ourselves the way Christ sees us, rather than the way Madison Avenue needs for us to see ourselves.

According to Paul, maybe being your own person isn’t such a great deal after all.  Living the life Jesus calls you to live . . . now, that would be true nonconformity.

What's in It for Me?

An elderly woman walked into a J.C. Penney department store.  Three young salesclerks were standing there (that was in the days there were people around to wait on you), but since the woman’s clothes were a tattered and worn, they figured that it was a waste of time to wait on such an unlikely prospect.  But there was a fourth young man standing nearby, a devoted Christian for whom kindness was second nature.  He approached the elderly woman, helped her make her purchases and then as she checked out, he learned that she was Mrs. J.C. Penney.

Dan G. Johnson, Neglected Treasure: Rediscovering the Old Testament

 

I find stories like this strangely distressing.  So much of what we do as a society is predicated on the idea that if you do something well enough and in front of the right people, you will receive some kind of reward.  Which is to enter every situation asking, not “How can I be of service?” but “What’s in it for me?”  If we’re honest, this story isn’t about helping someone else as much as it is about helping the right person—and, ultimately, ourselves.

Over the years, I’ve heard so many people say when asked why they stopped coming to church, “I wasn’t getting anything out of it”--as if the primary purpose for gathering for worship was somehow only to get something.  This attitude goes something like, “By Sunday morning I’m usually on Spiritual empty, and I come to church to get a fill-up on God.”  But when that attitude emerges, the church becomes merely another consumer proposition, “I’ll go where I get the most for the lowest cost to me.”

Worship is our corporate prayer to God every Sunday.  The church’s life—the way the church is administrated, the education programs, the fellowship opportunities, the acts of service—is itself a corporate prayer.  In that sense, then, our mindset ceases to be, “What will I miss if I’m not there?” but, rather “What will be missing if I’m not there?”  Each member and friend of the church plays a unique role in the prayer of faithfulness we lift to God.  Consequently, everyone is an equally vital part of the body, even if someone’s role is not always noticed by the rest.

My vision for the Church is that we begin to see ourselves as a family who, when sitting down to the table together, genuinely perceives the family as a whole, not just the sum of its constituent parts.  Indeed, when I begin to understand our connectedness, I’m freed to realize that I’m not in this just for me at all—I’m in this for you as well (and maybe even Mrs. J.C. Penney, too).

 

What Is the What?

Brief note: Since the church where I pastor, Douglass Boulevard Christian Church, voted on Sunday, April 17 to honor all marriages (gay and straight) by refraining from signing marriage licenses, I have been asked to present a justification of my views on receiving LGBTQ folks as equals in all aspects of the life of the church.  Here is a brief glance at the nature of my thinking on this issue--which is to say an answer to "What is the what?"

On Facebook, as many of you know, I tend to be kind of a smart aleck.  More to the point, I tend to be a decidedly liberal smart aleck—a fact that annoys some people, while others seem more appreciative of my sarcasm.  At any rate, I received a message on Facebook the other day from someone about whom I care a great deal.  It read, in part:

“Many of the people in my generation are politically what they are because of their upbringing. It would do us well to hear the "other" side in a constructive manner. For instance, I have been thinking about the homosexual question, and all of my learning and understanding comes from my conservative teaching.”

The note went on to ask that I offer some clarification of my views on the “homosexual question.”  Notwithstanding the implication that my snarkiness is often less than “constructive,” I take the message to be a genuine attempt on the part of the writer to understand a different view—admittedly, something about which I could do better myself.  Since I believe the request to be a serious one, and since my early “learning and teaching” also came from “conservative teaching,” I feel a certain responsibility to try to offer a serious answer about how I have arrived at my current theological convictions.  And while the nature of the medium in which I provide my response necessarily narrows the scope of how thoroughly I can address each issue associated with this question, I will try to provide a general account of how my beliefs have changed.

At the heart of what my questioner refers to as conservative teaching, it seems to me, is the issue of authority—namely, who or what guides my theological beliefs, and how those beliefs get converted into action.  Growing up, I learned that it was the bible that provided a blueprint for what to think and how to act.  If the bible said it, I was taught to believe it.  On this reading of scripture one operates under the defining assumption that the bible was written with the intention of providing a clearly understandable set of universal guidelines by which to live, one that extends to all times and all places.  In other words, what the bible said 2,500 years ago is just as binding today as it was then.  When it said not to steal, that was a universally binding command.  When it said not to murder, that was meant for me as much as for the Israelites wandering in the desert.  When it said, “If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death” (Lev. 20:10), that was supposed to apply to . . . wait a minute.  It was there that I ran into problems with reading the bible as a timeless blueprint, since big portions of it were ignored as being only for certain times and places.

So when Paul said that a woman “ought to have a symbol of authority on her head [either a veil or long hair], because of the angels” (1 Cor. 11:9, cf., also 11:6), and I noticed that the women I knew never wore veils and often cut their hair short, I was told that Paul was issuing only a situational command.  That is to say, Paul was only speaking to women of his time.  But when, some verses later, Paul said, “As in all the churches of the saints, women should be silent in the churches.  For they are not permitted to speak, but should be subordinate, as the law also says” (14: 33b-34), I was told that he was speaking to women of all times and places.  It wasn’t clear to me how I was supposed to tell consistently between time-bound and timeless commands.  I just couldn’t figure out why the command for women to be silent in church should operate beyond the first century Roman Empire, but that the command that women ought to wear veils and refrain from cutting their hair shouldn’t.

I concluded that the church operates in a decidedly different context now—one the apostle Paul could not have foreseen.  That argument began to change my mind about women’s ordination (another “question”—that is, the “women’s ordination question”—I had learned from early on was a theological no-no).  In fact, it made enough sense to other Christians around me that there had already been a substantial shift in many parts of the church over the issue of ordaining women.  As important as that hermeneutical shift was, however, my ideas about women in ministry were cemented when I finally received the honor of working side by side with them as colleagues.  I saw how gifted they were at tasks that I had been taught were to be reserved to males.  I worked with women who could preach and teach and administrate much better than I could (not necessarily a heavy lift, that).  I saw this as a way that, over time, the Holy Spirit was able to reveal a new conception of what God intended.  It didn’t necessarily mean that God had changed, but that the world in which we lived had changed enough that God’s true vision of the way things ought to be could finally be received.

It occurred to me, though, that another gradual revelation of God’s true design had happened even before the shift on women in the church.  The bible, while not commanding slavery, certainly seemed to condone its practice.  In fact, many people who, at one time, defended the practice of slavery did so while standing firmly within the tradition of biblical interpretation, using the bible as the defensive tool of choice.  However, we’ve reached a point where, looking back, it seems outrageous that anyone ever used the bible to defend this kind of treatment of other human beings.  It struck me that perhaps the church’s stance toward gays and lesbians might follow this same trajectory.  In other words, I thought that maybe the Holy Spirit is in the process of revealing to us God’s true vision of the way things ought to be with respect to homosexuality.  If this is the case, then we need not necessarily say that God has changed (though my colleagues who are Process theologians probably wouldn’t object to this description), but that the world has changed sufficiently to be able to receive the fullness of God’s truth on this issue.

But beyond what I take to be the inadequacies of a static view of biblical interpretation that seeks to match the brown shoes of scripture with the often black tuxedos of context, the thing I found most persuasive in changing my theological views of homosexuality was my contact with my brothers and sisters who are gay and lesbian.  In the church where I minister there reside some of the finest people with whom I’ve ever been fortunate enough to work—people who just happen to have been be born loving others of the same gender.  These people are my parishioners; but more importantly, they are my friends.  My gay and lesbian brothers and sisters have the same love for Jesus in their hearts as all the rest of the people with whom I work.  They want to be a part of a community seeking to live faithfully as followers of Jesus.  They want this.  Unfortunately, though, the church has not traditionally wanted them back.  We have caused grave damage to people whose only crime was to be created different.  I found I could no longer view people for whom Jesus died as defective or degenerate just because the object of their affections happened to share the same anatomy.

I don’t have the space to go into a separate exegetical defense of the seven “clobber” passages, those passages in the bible usually cited as arguments against homosexuality; those arguments are well rehearsed on both sides (stay tuned for future articles on the “clobber” passages, where I’ll rehearse the arguments again).  My point here centers on how we identify authority.  I want to be clear about the fact that I’m not suggesting that the bible isn’t authoritative; I believe it is.  Instead, I’ve come to the place where I can no longer accept as authoritative the view that scripture is a handy guidebook, indexed with rules for every occasion.  Scripture acts as authoritative when interpreted within a community that seeks seriously to understand the story of God’s loving interaction with humanity in the person of Jesus the Christ.  And the community in which I interpret scripture consists of people who are better disciples than I am, but whose gender identity or sexual orientation differs from my own.   And, as someone who claims to follow Jesus, my primary vocation is to learn to love others (all others) with the same radical abandon as the Jesus who radically abandoned good sense by answering “the Derek question” and loving me.

 

Douglass Loop Farmers Market: A Ministry of DBCC

“When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest.  You shall not strip your vineyards bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God” (Leviticus19:9-10).

From early on God showed concern for the way resources were allocated among God’s people, embodying that concern in the law by making certain that those who had little could still eat.  Leviticus reminds us that it’s not enough for those in the community who have enough to forget those without.  Those who had resources were required to look out for those who occupied the lower end of the socio-economic spectrum.  This passage from Leviticus is a glimpse of God’s idea of a social safety net.

In our contemporary world we also have inequities in the way food is produced and consumed.  The Douglass Loop Farmers Market, beginning Saturday, April 16 (10:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m.) is an effort on the part of DBCC to take seriously God’s concern that everyone has enough to eat.  As a ministry of the church the market has three important goals: 1) to provide a place for producers to sell locally grown food, so that they can make a decent living, 2) to provide access to nutritious locally grown food at a reasonable price, and 3) to help create a community atmosphere where we can begin to understand the ways we are connected to our neighbors.  In the service of these goals, we will soon be offering the option—to those able to take advantage of it—of using Food Stamps.  We want to help foster a just, sustainable food community here in the heart of the Highlands that gives producers a chance to sell and consumers a chance to buy.

We will be offering locally grown meat, eggs, produce, honey, herbs, wine, and plants.  To add to the neighborhood atmosphere, we will also be offering a mix of regular food vendors and guest chefs, all to the sounds of local acoustic musicians.  We will be dog-friendly, offering an area for people to tie up their dogs while they shop.

As people of God we have more to do to make certain that everyone has access to the food they need to survive, but this is a good place to start.  Come on out and join us every Saturday!

 

The Shirt off our back

I am designing a church t-shirt that we can wear in the community to celebrate your connection to Douglass.  Below are a few designs that I have put together please vote in the comments section for your favorite.

Design #1:

Design #2:

Design #3:

The Beggar's Bowl

One of my favorite things to do in worship is breaking bread with others. It reminds me of my youth. I grew up in a house full of children and adults. In fact there were 14 folks that called my home, home as well. My grandmother and aunts never meet a stranger and never turned a hungry or lost soul away form our table.

This is one of the passions I bring with me to Douglass Blvd Christian Church. I love gathering folks together around the table in fellowship. We, as Disciples, are not strangers to a weekly table celebration. We gather at the Lord’s Table every week. We are renewed and transformed in mind, body, and spirit as we welcome all to the table.

The table along with the font are the primary sacraments we hold in our faith to be representative of the call of the Christ. We hold that we are unworthy of coming to the table. Yet, we come to the table with grace on our lips and forgiveness in our hearts as we seek to draw nearer to the one we call Christ.

We come to the table on instruction of Jesus. In the same manner to which Jesus served his disciples on that night he was betrayed. We to “take and eat” remembering that Jesus will come again.

It was in this spirit that I hoped to create a space where we as a faith community may draw nearer to each other in Christ and break bread together in a weekly fashion. Doing so I hoped we would strengthen the bonds of family and invite our family and friends into this peaceful storm of togetherness.

The first week of June we set out on a grand experiment called, The Beggar’s Bowl. We booked Monday nights for our adventure in faithful being. We purchased a share of local produce from Grasshopper’s Distribution and set out to cook a creative, organic, locally grown meal for under $3.00 a person.

On that first night we hit a few snags. Meredith bailed me out because I had no idea how to cook kale. We had 8-10 people on that first night. We invited folks to be guest chefs and share with us their culinary daring. The next week we got a little better at cooking and a few more folks came.

By the end of July we had an average of 25 people attending on Monday nights. We made a banner and invited the community. We had homeless fellas stop on by to share a meal with us. Folks from the local community would stop on by and share a meal with us. Every week a new chef blessed us with a delicious local meal. We had exotic meals from Africa, Germany, the Pacific Islands, Thailand, and even Mexico!

In a matter of a few weeks we were averaging 30 people every Monday night. People brought their children and all of the kids played in the Robsion Center as the adults shared stories of their days and enjoyed the company of others.

It was a wonderful event. I looked forward to Monday’s and the joy they brought with them. Rain or shine we would gather together and break bread. The table we shared together there was most defiantly transforming those present.

Sadly, we celebrated our last night together this past Monday night. As we shared this final meal I was struck at how intertwined we had become over the course of these few months. I began to mourn the loss of these Monday nights.

I could not be more pleased at the success of this adventure. It began with an idea and the hope of gathering together at a common table and it became an extended family for me an those that shared n those moments. I am thankful for all that came and all that served. I pray we can do it again in the spring. I invite you all to bring a bowl and gather at the table with all of us beggar’s at the Beggar’s Bowl.

Peace be with you all.

Here is the recipe from the last meal at Beggar's Bowl this year.

Curried Sweet Potato Stew

Ingredients

3 medium sweet potatoes

4 Tbsp of olive oil

1 brown onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 stalks of celery, chopped

1 Tbsp of garam masala*

1 tsp of curry powder

1 tsp sea salt

5 cups of chicken or vegetable stock

1 cup of coconut milk

1/2 cup of water

Curried sweet potato soup with coconut milk is a staple during the cooler months. The creamy, aromatic soup has a subtle sweetness from the roasted sweet potatoes. When making a sweet potato soup I always insist on first roasting the sweet potatoes to enhance their caramel flavor.

*The spices used in this recipe are curry powder and garam masala. Garam masala is simply a blend of warm spices commonly used in Indian cuisine. If you’re unable to find it at your local store, simply substitute it with extra curry powder.

Procedure

Pre-heat the oven to 350F (180C). Slice the sweet potatoes into 2 inch rounds. Place potatoes in a baking tray and drizzle with 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Season with a little salt. Bake for 1 hour or until tender. Remove from oven and set aside to cool. Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, heat the remaining olive oil over a medium heat. Add the onion and celery and fry, stirring often, for 5 minutes. Add garlic and fry for 30 seconds. Add garam masala and curry powder. Fry, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, for 30 seconds. Remove the saucepan from the heat.

Scoop flesh out of sweet potatoes and discard the skins. Place potatoes into the saucepan and stir well to coat in spices. Add stock and bring to the boil. Turn the heat down to medium-low and cover. Simmer soup for 15 minutes. Remove soup from heat and cool. Ladle soup into a blender or food processor and blend in batches until smooth and creamy. Place soup back into saucepan on a medium heat. Add coconut milk and water and stir well to combine. Simmer soup over a medium heat for 5 minutes.

Divide soup into bowls and serve with a slice of crusty bread for dipping.