A Lesson from Our Muslim Guide

One of the many reasons I enjoyed our guide, Salih, was his penchant for wearing T-shirts promoting various U.S. sports teams--here, the Wisconsin Badgers, my home state university team! (Salih is a U.S. citizen, and lived many years in the U.S.)

Salih is also a Muslim. Here, in the "Blue Mosque" in Istanbul, he spent some time giving us a brief overview of the basic beliefs and practices of Islam.

The mosque in Islam is basically a house of prayer. Five times a day the call goes out from the minaret(s) of each mosque, calling faithful Muslims to prayer; we heard the call to pray numerous times, including once at 4:30 AM when we slept with our hotel window open! Prayer can be done at home, at work, at the mosque, or whereve one is--but, all Muslims are expected to gather at the mosque for the Friday noon prayer, which often includes a sermon by the imam (religious leader).

Salih commented on the significance of being called to prayer five times a day. For Muslims, that is the most telling mark of their faith because it has daily impact. Imagine stopping whatever you are doing five times between sunrise and sunset to either go to the mosque or find a private place to spend 1o minutes in prayer with the 1.3 billion Muslims throughout the world. "When you are called to prayer five times a day, you don't have time to do anything bad in between!" Salih remarked. (I wonder if the taxi driver who cheated us in Istanbul had prayed that day?)

In the Christian tradition, regular and frequent call to prayer is historically part of monastic practice, but not for all Christians. Certainly we are encouraged to pray. Certainly Jesus teaches us to pray, and assumes we will pray. When his disciples asked him to teach them to pray, he responded, "When (not "if") you pray, say this...." and he taught them the Lord's Prayer.

What if we took that call to prayer seriously? What impact would it have on the lives of people of faith if we stopped whatever we were doing to pray 5 times daily--or even 3 times--or even once? How would it shape our lives? How would we be changed if we regularly, intentionally, turned to God in prayer and remembered how prayer binds us together with other people of faith, in worship and service of a God who bestows forgiveness, mercy and love and calls us to be merciful and loving toward others? What do you think that would do in your life? in our world? I don't know if it would prevent us from doing anything bad, but it would certainly be more likely to keep us connected to the souce of all good!

That's worth thinking about, isn't it?

And--worth praying about!

Needed--More Mystics?

One of the more unique things we had the opportunity to do in our exposure to Turkish culture was to attend a presentation by a group of "Whirling Dervishes".

Our guide, Salih, explained the origin and philosophy of the whirling dervish movement. Originating in the vision of the great 13th century Muslim poet and mystic, Rumi, the "whirling dervishes" were originally a monastic movement within Islam, espeically promiment in Turkey and Persia.

Why are they called "whirling dervishes"? It's because of the slow, graceful dance they carry out for meditative purposes. The word "dervish" is roughly equivalent to the English word"monk". Although there are no longer monastic communities of dervishes, there are still adherents to the dervish practice and philosophy who carry out their secular occupations by day and practice meditative dance evenings and weekends. Whirling slowly, eyes closed, heads often tilted, the dervishes enter a trance-like state in which they seek to achieve union with God and perceive themselves to be at harmony with all people and creation. Their dance is highly symbolic: shedding their black cloaks as they enter into meditative dance, they dress in white robes and tall, wool hats. The hats represent tombstones, and the white robe the garment, in Muslim tradition, that will shroud them in death. It's as if they're dying to self and becoming someone new in union with God in their meditation. (Reminds me of Paul's comment in Romans 6 on baptism as a death of the old self and birth of the new.) In addition to the dervishes' dress, their posture is also symbolic: the right hand is raised and extended upward and outward, in anticipation of receiving whatever God has to offer in the meditaiton; the left hand is extended downward and outward, expressing the conviction that one's union with God is expressed in acts of love and service to others.

And that gives a clue to the dervish philosophy. At the center are denial of self, union with God, and compassion toward others. In addition, the dervishes have always welcomed women among their numbers. And they have taught and striven to practice tolerance for those who are different.

Doesn't it seem like the world could use a little more of that philosophy these days?

As I listened to our guide describe the mystic vision of the dervishes, it struck me that this vision is not unique to Islam. Through the centuries, Christian mystics have also preached union with God and love and tolerance for others. Many Christian mystics--like St. Francis, Hildegard of Bingen, and Meister Eckhart--have advocated and practiced gender equality. As I pondered this further, the question haunted me: "Does the world need more mystics? Does the world need more people devoted to union with God, and love, tolerance, and equality among humans? Does the world need to be reminded that, at the center of the universe is a power, a loving power (God) who is passionate about unity, harmony, justice, and peace?"

I think so!

But I also know that mystics are, often, not well received. They're often considered odd, weird, and so heavenly-minded as to be no earthly good. Mystics have usually been belittled and riduculed. It's not an easy calling, to be a mystic! Perhaps that's one reason there are so few of them!

But perhaps we are being called to pay closer attention to the voice of the mystics among us. Who are those who dare to be "different" out of their passion for union with God? Who are those who are calling on us to see the God-intended harmony and shalom of the universe, and to act as if that is more real than all the hatred and fears that divide us? Who are those whose passion for union with God and harmony in all creation compels others to label them odd and unrealistic?

They just may be the mystics among us. They just may be speaking a word from God. And, in these troubled times, they just may be needed more than politicians, armies, and economic gurus.

The mystics--they just may be the ones who can show the way to the mending of a broken world.

Are we listening?

The Story of Christianity in Turkey - Part II

I promised a Part II!


In Part I, I commented on the long and rich tradition of Christianity in Turkey. Now, we come to Part II.


Do you remember the churches and Christian communities I noted in my previous two posts? In one post, I shared images and reflections about the cave churches in Cappadocia and the "Chora Church" in Istanbul. In Part I, I shared photos and reflections on two of the largest churches ever built--the Church of St. John in Ephesus, and the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople (Istanbul).


Do you know what these four churches and communities have in common? They are no longer in existence as churches, no longer serving Christian communities. St. John Church was destroyed in a 7th century earthquake, and never rebuilt--though it is being restored today for historical purposes. Hagia Sophia was converted to a mosque after the Ottoman Empire conquered Constaninople in 1453, and Christian symbolism covered or painted over; it's now a museum, and some of the original marks of Christianity are being restored--again, for historical purposes. "Chora Church," the one with the gorgeous religious frescos--it's a museum. The Cappadocian cave churches--a museum. In fact, the only signs of an active Christian presence I witnessed in Turkey were the religious orders maintaining the Shrine of Mary in Ephesus and conducting occasional worship there, and the imposing world headquarters of the Eastern Orthodox Church in Istanbul. I saw mosques everywhere, and active churches nowhere.


Modern Turkey is a secular Islamic republic. Its system of government is similar to other nations that have a prime minister and a parliament. There is no official religion in Turkey, though 99.9% of its 70 million citizens are Muslim. Unlike some other predominantly Muslim countries, however, Islamic "sharia" (religious) law is not the law of the land. Turkish law, since the establishment of the republic in 1923 under the leadership of Turkish national hero Ataturk, has been based in European legal traditions.

Today, in this secular Islamic republic, there are about 10,000 Greek Orthodox Christians and 15,000 Armenian Orthodox Christians. That's all that's left of the long and deep Christian tradition in Turkey. And, ever since hearing those figures from our guide Salih, I've been wondering, "What happened? What happened to the ancient Christian tradition in Turkey?"

Now, the last thing I claim to be is an expert in all things Turkish. But, based on my general knowledge of history and the history of relationships between government and religion, I want to suggest a couple factors that may have contributed to the failure of Christianity to thrive in Turkey.

First, there are external factors. For almost 800 years, until the republic was established in 1923, Turkey was ruled by two Islamic dynasties--first, the Seljuks and then, for over 600 years, the Ottomans. Christianity was not illegal, but to remain a Christian was difficult. Think about all the centuries during which the Holy Roman Empire allied so closely with the Roman Catholic Church in Europe--and how difficult it was to be anything other than Christian in that era. Or think about how it's hard to be anything other than a Mormon in Utah. To not be a Muslim in Turkey, or to be anything but Roman Catholic in Western Europe, or something other than Mormon in Utah--it's not illegal, but it's certainly difficult to maintain that distinct identity in the face of huge cultural pressure to conform. That's one external factor that contributed to the decline of Christianity in Turkey.

Another has to do with the aftermath of World War I. My brief exposure to Turkish history while in the country--especially my visit to the mausoleum of Ataturk and the adjoining museum--helped me to realize more vividly than ever before how devastated and fragmented Europe and the Middle East were by World War I. Turkey was parceled out under the control of various European countries, including Greece, France, Italy, and Great Britain, with the Ottoman Empire (taking its dying breaths) nominally in charge. A war of independence against the Greeks followed shortly after WWI, and replican Turkey emerged victorious. Most of the Greeks were exchanged for Turks living in Greece, and the other significant Christian community, the Armenians, were almost all expelled or executed. (The Turks don't like to talk about that.) As a result, only a few Greek and Armenian Christians remained in the country.

Those are the external factors, as I see it.

But there are also, I believe, internal factors that led to the decline of Christianity in Turkey.

Eastern Orthodox Christianity--the primary form of Christianity in Turkey since the Great Schism (split between the Western and Eastern churches) in 1054--has its strengths. One of them, as I noted in Part I, is its powerful way of keeping the story of Jesus and the church through the ages vividly in the awareness of worshipers. It has a long, deep, history of rich worship and vigorous theological tradition. But it has also been very much of an "insider" community, not inclined to eagerly reach out or easily include those who differ. Hence we have so many ethnic Orthodox churches--Russian, Greek, Slavic, Armenian, and so on. Not unlike Lutherans in North America, who have found it hard to break out beyond our Northern European ethnic roots, the Orthodox Church has not made outreach and engagement with the context a priority. So, when Islam became dominant in Turkey, the Church tended to turn inward rather than outward. This may be a tactic for survival--at least for a while!--but it is not a strategy for vibrant growth! Over the centuries, and, especially, with the added challenges of post-WWI Turkey, the church consistently and dramatically lost influence and numbers. Now it is little more than a shell of its once-vibrant self. We'll see if that remains the case.

Well, that's enough though, I'm sure, there's more to the story.

But I can't leave the Story of Christianity in Turkey without posing some questions for Christians in North America, especially Lutherans in the United States (who have slowly but steadily declined in numbers over the past 40 years). Although the political dynamics here are different from those in Turkey, the challenges to the church are similar: In an increasingly diverse culture, where church affiliation continues to decline, what is our future? There may be external factors beyond our control. But what about the internal factors? With God's help, can Christians in North America offer a bold and vibrant witness to the grace, mercy and love of God? Will we engage our context, inviting others to experience the love and forgiveness of God as we have been blessed to know it? Can we break out of our ethnic boxes and reach out to our rich, diverse American culture?

Those are important, crucial questions before the contemporary American mainline church. The unfortunate story of the church in Turkey offers a lesson and a word of caution.

We know what has become of the church in Turkey.

But now the crucial questions are these: what will become of the church in America--the church of which I am a part? What is God calling us--calling me--to do and be in the 21st century? Will we--will I--answer the call, or, like the church of Turkey, will we fade further and further into irrelevance until we become, by and large, nothing more than an interesting piece of history, a museum?

Well......???

The Story of Christianity in Turkey - Part I

It is an astounding and humbling thing to have stood in places where so much early Christian history was lived. The land now known as Turkey is full of places notable in the New Testament and the first millenium of church history--and even more, if we took the time to acknowledge the people, places, and kingdoms in Turkey which are important in the Old Testament. I'll have time and space to mention only some of them here.

Cappadocia, Pontus, Asia (then a name of a Roman province in modern Turkey), Pamphylia, and Phrygia are among the regions named in Acts 2, where the story of the out-pouring of the Holy Spirit and miraculous preaching of the gospel in various languages is reported. They are all regions in modern Turkey.

Below are photos of the ruins of the magnificent ancient city of Ephesus. Left to right, top to bottom, we see the Temple of Trajan, the column-lined main street (paved with marble), the huge ampitheatre, and one of the three greatest libraries in the ancient world (along with Alexandria, Egypt and Pergamon, not far from Ephesus.)

We were there--and so was St. Paul. Born and raised in Tarsus in southern Turkey, Paul preached the gospel at numerous places in Turkey on his three missionary journeys. Two of those journeys began in Antioch, near the Syrian border in southern Turkey--an important early Christian center. Two of those communities, Ephesus and the churches of Galatia, are recipients of letters included in our New Testament. Paul spent extended periods of time there, proclaiming the gospel and encouraging those young, fragile churches to remain faithful. (We need to remember that, for three centuries, Christians were in a tiny and suspect minority; the western half ofTurkey, like much of the Mediterranean world, practiced the paganism of the ancient Greeks and Romans and gave divine status to the Emperor.) Two of the communities in which Paul preached, Ephesus and Pergamom, are among the seven churches--all in western Turkey, near the Aegean Sea--which are addressed in the book of Revelation. Ephesus was the site of the Temple of Artemis (there's an interesting story about that in Acts 19!), one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Also in Ephesus, as we noted above, were other temples, that magnificent library, and a huge theatre--a common feature in ancient Greek and Roman cities. Clearly, Ephesus was a prominent city in Paul's time.

Ephesus is important not only as one of the churches in which Paul was a significant figure, but as the legendary home of the Apostle John and the Virgin Mary after the death of Jesus. High on a hill above Ephesus stands this shrine, believed by many to be the home of Mary. (I'm skeptical, but that's another story.) Elsewhere in the city are the ruins (destroyed in a 7th century earthquake and never rebuilt) of a basilica dedicated to St. John. Below are a photos of a reconstructed model of the basilica and of the ruins.

Paul was also in Pergamon, and so were we. The ancient city, high on a hill, overlooks a large, fertile valley where a bustling modern city now lies. Here are some of the sites of Pergamon. In addition, the photo of the arches at the top of this post, which were actually originally part of an underground support system for a temple, is also from Pergamon.

In my previous post, I commented on the churches in the region of Cappadocia, and the long history of "underground" Christianity there. Three important early teachers in the church, prominent at the First Ecumenical Council of Nicea (325 A.D.), also in Turkey, lived in Cappadocia and are known to church history as the "Cappadocian Fathers"--Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory of Nazianzus. Brenda and I were there, in Cappadocia, where those revered Fathers lived and taught centuries ago!

We were also in modern Antalya, on the Mediterranean coast. Nearby is the city of Myra. Did you know it was the home of "Santa Claus"? The historical St. Nicholas was Bishop of Myra in the late third and early fourth centuries A.D. He is widely revered for his piety, humility, and compassion for the poor. He is especially remembered for his gifts to children of poor families.

Turkey is home to one of the most magnificent churches ever built, the famous Hagia Sophia (or Aya Sophia) in Istanbul; the Greek name means "Holy Wisdom". The Emperor Theodosius ordered and oversaw its construction in the late 4th century A.D. In fact, Aya Sophia and the Church of St. John in Ephesus (6th century) are two of the ten largest Christian churches ever built! Of course, as you may know, Constantinople (as it was known for 1,000 years as capital of the East Roman Empire) was conquered by the Islamic Ottoman Empire in 1453. Subsequently, Aya Sophia was converted into a mosque--hence the minarets you see surrounding the imposing structure.

Also among Turkey's important contributions to the history of Christianity is that it was the site of the first eight of the 21 general councils of the church. These councils, gatherings of bishops from the universal church, have been convened (often, but not always, by the Pope) at crucial times throughout the church's history to settled disputed matters of doctrine and church practice. The first, at Nicea (325 A.D.) has given its name to one of the church's core expressions of the faith, the Nicene Creed. One other council was held at Nicea (787 A.D.), one at Ephesus (381 A.D.), one at Chalcedon (451 A.D.), and four at Constantinople (381, 553, 680-81, and 869 A.D.). In Constantinople, the bishops gathered at Aya Sophia, behind this marble gate, at the end of a concourse in the upper gallery of the basilica:

Well, thanks for taking the time to review with me some of the reasons why Turkey is so important to Christian history. What a blessing it was to visit some of those sites previously known to me only as faraway places with unusual names mentioned in the Bible. Being there, in person, at some of those places, and seeing the context of some key Christian figures, has helped me to feel more personally engaged with the long and deep Christian tradition. For this reason and others, I am grateful for the opportunity I had to visit Turkey!

Now, you may have noticed the title of this post includes the note that this is "Part 1". If you think that means there will be a Part 2, you are correct! More to follow...

Surrounded by the Story

Imagine entering the church building to worship and seeing something like this before your eyes--ancient Orthodox icons, painted as frescos, on the ceiling and wall before you. Here are images of the resurrection, Pentecost, and the reigning Christ, from an old church in Istanbul. This is one of the things the Orthodox do well--keep the church's story in front of worshipers, visually, lest any forget where they are, who they are, and why they are in that sacred space. The "Chora Church," as it's called, is filled with beautiful frescos, telling the story of Christ and the saints, inviting the worshiper to contemplate God through the images--and, then, to gladly and faithfully join the rest of the communion of saints and live the story.

The visual stimulation of these images in the Chora Church was overwhelming and awe-inspiring. Here's a sampling of others, including images of Peter and Paul, other important saints and fathers of the church, and images of Christ and the stories about him:

We saw something similar--but a little more primitive--in Cappadocia. There the church existed semi-underground for centuries. Cappadocia is an unusual and haunting region in central Turkey--and it's mentioned in the book of Acts in the Bible--characterized by unique formations caused when soft, volcanic tufa rock is eroded over time by the fierce winds of the area. Formations like this:

See the photo on the left above above? See the caves? People used to live in them, for months at a time. In this particular area of Cappadocia, a Christian community lived for centuries. They had come there to escape persecution, and still found themselves threatened by enemies. So, from time to time, they went underground. And that's where their churches were, too. And, again, we see that, when the people gathered for worship, they were surrounded by the story:

Imagine that--again and again, gathering for worship, surrounded by the story--the story of God's creative and redeeming love, poured out most abundantly in Christ, and embodied in the lives of the saints through the ages. What do you suppose it did for those ancient Christians to be surrounded by the story, visually and in community with each other, over and over and over. I would think one might begin to embody the story in one's own life!

Now, in Western Christianity we don't make such abundant use of icons and visual images as the Orthodox Christians do. But aren't there other ways we can intentionally surround ourselves with the story? Go to worship--and contemplate the art and symbols you see. Live in and with the Christian community. Let the stories of scripture wash over us, again and again. Learn from the experience of the saints of old--and the saints of today, our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Surrounded by the story. What a marvelous concept!

Isn't there a lesson here for us? Isn't this the question we must answer: if we want to be followers of Christ today, what are we doing to surround ourselves with the story--the old, old story of Jesus and his love?

Think about that...and watch for more of the story in the next blog post.

Home from Turkey (and New York City)

Brenda and I have returned home from Turkey! I won't bore you with the details of our travel complications. Suffice it to say that we left our house at 10 PM on July 24 for the Denver airport, rather than early that morning as scheduled, due to a last -minute flight cancellation. After flying to Atlanta, New York, and Istanbul (including two nights in the air), and a six-hour bus ride, we finally caught up with our tour group a day late, at 6:30 PM (Turkish time--9 hours ahead of Denver) on July 26. And, not surprisingly, we continued the tradition with late flights leaving Turkey, and an even longer delay leaving New York after a four-day stay there. We finally crashed into our own bed on Monday morning, Aug. 11, at 3 AM--and Brenda had the joy of getting up later that morning to go back to work!

Aside from that, it was a wonderful trip. We bussed 2,200 miles through Turkey with 38 other tourists, saw some beautiful countryside, swam in warm waters of the Mediterranean Sea,

celebated Brenda's birthday in Turkish fashion, saw amazing ancient ruins, learned a lot about Turkish history, politics, and culture, ate a lot of kebob, took many, many photos (and bought numerous batteries for the camera!), bought lots of Turkish Delight and other souvenirs, and thoroughly enjoyed the trip. (But did I tell you that getting home to our own bed sure felt good?)

Here's a shot of our group's Turkish celebration

of the birthdays of Brenda and Drew (who share

an August 1 birthday). Doesn't Brenda look

absolutely regal? And how about Drew in that fez?

We were blessed with an absolutley wonderful tour guide, Salih, a Kurdish Turk and American citizen, who speaks excellent English, is full of knowledge and insight into Turkish history, culture, politics, and religion, took excellent care of our group, and did it all with grace and good humor. Thanks, Salih, for enhancing our trip so greatly!

As much as we enjoyed the country, after nearly two weeks in Turkey we were ready to return to the U.S.--but not quite ready to return home. Since we were flying through New York, and had never visited there before, we spend four days seeing the sights of that great and vibrant city. We relaxed in Central Park, visited Rockefeller Center (home of NBC, Radio City Music Hall, and St. Patrick's Cathedral, where we stepped inside just as a wedding was concluding), and saw the city from the Top of the Rock. We also rode the Staten Island Ferry and took a tour of the Statue of Liberty--she looked good!--and Ellis Island, where Brenda's Mom had passed through with her parents and a younger brother as an immigrant from The Netherlands in 1923. We enjoyed immensely the Broadway production of Wicked, were dazzled by the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim Museum, navigated the subway system without any significant snafus, and had a chance to enjoy dinner with Brenda's niece, Megan, and her husband, Ryan.

All in all, it was a great trip (although we're ready for a rest, and not sure how soon we want to embark on a journey like this again!) We saw a lot, learned a lot and, I hope, grew a little in the process. We were reminded, once again, what an amazing world we live in and, once again, how fortunate we are to live in the U.S.A. (Oh, did I mention it was good to get home to our own bed?)

Although our New York visit was primarily for fun, the trip in

Turkey was highly educational--so you'll be reading more about

that in upcoming blog posts.

Next Stop - Turkey!

As I continue this refreshing and stimulating sabbatical journey, I'm really excited about the trip Brenda and I begin tomorrow. (We could do without the long travel time, though.) We're headed to Turkey and then will have a few days in New York on our return--a place we've always wanted to visit, but never have.

Why Turkey? East meets West there. Ancient cultures. Places important in both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament. History has been made there. History is still being made there. And we get to get a taste of it!

Watch for reports and reflections to follow...

Yes, God Does Good Work!

     More than once I've heard my colleague, Pastor Michael TeKrony, when awed by something beautiful in creation, "God does good work!"

     I agree.  I agree wholeheartedly!

     One of the blessings of this summer, in addition to the new learnings I've received, has been the opportunity to see some of that good work in my home state of Wisconsin.  The Washington Island Forum was an enriching and stimulating professional experience.  And the setting was absolutely gorgeous--and oh-so-peaceful by the water!  Washington Island is located off the tip of Door County, Wisconsin--the thumb-like peninsula that juts out into the waters of Green Bay to the west and Lake Michigan to the east.  Washington Island is where those two large bodies of water meet.

     The only way to reach the island is by a ferry that carries both passengers and cars--like this one.  (And look at that deep blue water and bright blue, nearly cloudless sky--some of God's good work!

      On the island, Brenda and I stayed at the pleasant Cottage-on-the-Bay, and were treated graciously by our amiable hosts, Lew & Debbie Wuellner-Clarke.  And we had the special joy of having my sister Cindy and husband Jeff Schave share most of the time with us.  We have always been blessed by their company, and this time was no exception!  When I was not attending the Forum, we played games, ate (too much!), explored the island, and laughed and ate and sat by the campfire and ate.  And every evening God gave us a treat like this...

or like this...

or this...

To see those sunsets, we had to stroll 50 yards (unfortunately, we did have to fight off mosquitoes!) from the deck of the cottage to the shore--here's a view by day to give you some perspective...(That's my beloved enjoying the peaceful vista by the water.)

     Oh, and before going to the Island, we had the pleasure of visiting again, after several years, with our dear friends Pastor Nick & Judy Johannes at their lovely home on the Peshtigo River near Crivitz, WI. In addition to treating us to their warm hospitality and catching up with each others lives and ministries, they treated us to a pontoon ride on the river, where we had the joy of getting up close and personal with another of God's good pieces of work--this friendly loon:

 

     During our time on the Island, we also enjoyed seeing some of God's good work coupled with the good work of some of God's people.  The congregation of Trinity Lutheran Church on the Island has built, as a labor of love and in honor of the Scandinavian heritage of many islanders, a replica of a Norwegian stave church.  It's an inviting building in a beautiful setting, offered to the public as a site for weddings and special services as well as personal prayer and meditation.

 

 

     Well, I think you get the idea that God does good work--and some of that good work is certainly exhibited in the beauty of my home state of Wisconsin!

     And next time you're out in the beauty of creation, why not notice for yourself some of the good and beautiful work done by our loving and creative God!

 

Why I Like Diana Butler Bass

I have become a fan of Diana Butler Bass—if one can have “fans” in the world of theology and church life.  My appreciation for her work began when I first read her book, Christianity for the Rest of Us: How the Neighborhood Church is Transforming the Faith, as part of a reading assignment Bishop Allan Bjornberg gave to the pastors and leaders of our synod almost two years ago.  (I have to confess that I haven’t completed the assignment, which included two other books—though I have purchased one of them!)

      I was so taken by Bass’ book that I decided to lead a study of it at Holy Shepherd.  So, together with about 20 others, I read Christianity for the Rest of Us again this past spring—and my respect for Diana’s work grew some more.  As we read and discussed together, I was both challenged and encouraged—challenged to be the best possible pastor for the best possible church we can be, and encouraged that the church can--contrary to popular assumptions about the mainline church--actually grow and flourish in the 21st century.  We had a stimulating and uplifting time together in that Sunday-morning study—and also were only able to scratch the surface.

     As serendipity (or God) would have it, Bishop Bjornberg had invited Diana to be one of the keynote speakers at our Rocky Mountain Synod assembly in late May—shortly after our group completed our study.  Hearing and seeing her in person only increased my appreciation for what she is offering the church.  There I picked up another of her books, The Practicing Congregation: Imagining a New Old Church, and read it early in my sabbatical.

     Meanwhile, another opportunity presented itself.  I saw an ad in The Christian Century periodical for the annual Washington Island (Wisconsin) Forum, with Diana Butler Bass as the featured presenter.  I couldn’t pass it up!  In addition to hearing Diana once more, I would also be able to visit family and friends in my home state of Wisconsin, enjoy some down time on beautiful Washington Island with Brenda, and attend the wedding of the daughter of long-time friends—all in one trip.  No, I couldn’t pass it up.

     And, once again, Diana Butler Bass delivered! This time, she presented material from her forthcoming book (in 2009), which has the working title, A People’s History of Christianity. This time she took us on a quick tour of the major eras of Christian history, drew lessons from each for the church today, and imagined with us what the faithful and thriving church might look like in the 21st century.    I continue to find her stimulating, engaging, learned, and hope-giving!

     It’s been a long time—25+ years, when I heard theological giants Walter Brueggemann and Douglas John Hall lecture back in Iowa—since I’ve been so taken with the work of a particular theologian and scholar.  So I’ve been asking myself why.  And here’s a list of some of the reasons "Why I Like Diana Butler Bass":

• She clearly loves God and loves God’s church—warts and all!
•  
• She tells good stories.  She makes church history come alive and seem relevant!
•  
• She is a thorough and careful scholar.
•  
• She is not content to keep presenting the same material.  In everything I’ve heard her say and everything I’ve read, I’ve never failed to receive something fresh and new.  She’s not a “one-hit wonder” in the world of theology, who has one idea or one program that she’s beating to death and milking for all it’s worth.  Diana is a person of depth, with wide-ranging interests.
• She doesn’t expect the church to be what it’s not.  Specifically, she doesn’t think the mainline traditional denominations like ours, who are generally struggling to remain relevant in our current culture, need to mimic the non-denominational mega-churches in order to thrive.
•  
• She takes issue with any who want to insist that “our best days (as the church) are behind us”.  She is convicted and convincing when she declares, “The church’s best days are ahead of us!”
• 
  She proposes that thriving as the church is not a matter of buying into a particular program or formula but, rather, faithfully an intentionally practicing the ancient and time-tested disciplines of Christianity.  It’s not rocket science!  Congregations who want to follow God’s call need to practice the following: Hospitality, Discernment, Healing, Contemplation, Testimony, Diversity, Justice, (Relevant) Worship, Reflection, and Beauty (use of the arts).  In fact, she claims (and the extensive research she’s done supports this conclusion) that churches flourish when they intentionally practice three of these disciplines.
•  
• She agrees with me in my conviction that the mainline church has done a good job of training church members, but needs to do much better at training disciples of Jesus Christ.
•  
• In short, Diana Butler Bass gives me hope—hope that the mainline church can be a faithful, effective witness to God’s love and justice in 21st century America!

     Do you agree?  Do you agree that the church can live into the future with hope?

     If you want to learn a little more about Diana for yourself, visit her website.

     Well, thanks for taking the time to read these reflections.  Now, I’ve gotta go.  You see, I’ve got some reading to do--I bought another of Diana Butler Bass’ books at the Washington Island Forum, and I’m eager to discover what else she has to offer!

Writing History

Maybe it’s because I’m considerably older now than I was then, so I have lived more of it. I’m talking about history. In my student years–high school, college, seminary--I had no use for history and was baffled by those who loved it. But in recent years, that has changed.

When not reading theology or fiction, I can sometimes be found reading history or biography, as I strive to gain a deeper appreciation for the past. The past, after all, shapes the present–and our choices now will shape the future. And if we learn from history, perhaps our choices will be wiser.

One of the things I’ve noticed as I pay closer attention to history is the question of "who"–who writes it? And, usually, the answer is, "History is written by the winners"–those who triumph in war, those who succeed financially, those who are revered and respected by many. The "losers’" story is seldom told in the history books or the media. We have to look especially hard to find it.

I saw two examples of history written from the perspective of the "losers" in Mexico, both of them in Mexico City.

The first was near the park I mentioned in my previous post–the park where men stood and waited, sometimes all day, for someone to hire them as a day laborer. Just outside the park, on the side of a building, there was a plaque. It had names engraved on it. The names were Irish, but the text was in Spanish. What was the plaque? It was a memorial to a company of soldiers who had changed sides during the Mexican-American War of 1846-48. Apparently upset that their country (the U.S.) was fighting against a Roman Catholic country (Mexico), this group of 70-some Irish-American soldiers–aptly memorialized as "The St. Patrick’s Brigade"-- vanished in the night, and fought with the Mexican army the following day. Unfortunately for them, their new comrades lost the battle. The St. Patrick’s Brigade was captured by the U.S. Army, court-martialed, and, to a man, executed for treason against the U.S. The plaque honored those soldiers for their bravery in fighting, at the cost of their lives, in a justified war defending Mexico against U.S. aggression. (That’s the way the war was described on the plaque.) I never learned that when I studied history in my younger years–because history is usually written by the winners. But the losers found a way to tell their story.

Another example: In 1519, Hernan Cortez (the one with the Sea, also known as the Gulf of California, named after him) led an invasion of Mexico from Cuba, where he was a government official, on behalf of Spain. Two years later, he had conquered the mighty Aztec Empire. In 1523, Spain began building the massive buildings pictured here. On the left you see the National Cathedral of Mexico, and on the right the National Palace. In front is the plaza known as The Zocalo. Pretty impressive! But did you know what you would find beneath the plaza and the buildings symbolizing Spanish power? The ruins of the Aztec capital, destroyed by Cortez, which formerly existed on that very site. Oh, and on the walls of the National Palace are the spectacular, panoramic murals of Diego Rivera, depicting Mexican history up until the mid-20th Century. One of his panels notes the presence and military might of Cortez. But, in that panel, Cortez has a green face and swollen knees, clear signs of ill health. The Spanish thought they were bringing Mexico a better way of life–offered at the point of a sword–but, at least for Rivera, all that Cortez brought was disease that damaged and destroyed Mexican lives. Two different–very different--ways of writing history!

History is written from the perspective of the winners, but the losers seem to find a way to tell their version of the story as well!

Now, as Christians, we are winners. In Romans 8:37, St. Paul describes us as "more than conquerers through him who loved us"–superconquerors, I once saw it translated. We are winners not by political might (though we sometimes have claimed it, like the Spaniards in Mexico), but by virtue of the victory of Christ over the powers of sin, death, and Satan. And if we are the winners, what history will we write? What history are we writing by our choices and actions today?

The Bible seems to suggest–in fact, from cover to cover it makes this point emphatically–that the history of those who are winners in Christ is written by our actions toward and on behalf of those whom history would call the "losers". Again and again, in Old Testament and New, the people of God are called upon to give special care to the sojourner–the one passing through the land–and to the widows and orphans. Those were the most vulnerable in biblical times, people with no one to look after them.

And who are the "losers" in our day? After all, as "winners" in Christ, we are called to care for the "losers".

And that makes me wonder. That makes me wonder: what history are we writing, by our choices and our actions today?

New Insight from an Old Story

Jesus, as we know, told a lot of stories. "Parables," they’re called. And many of them are puzzling. They turn conventional wisdom on its head: a Samaritan who is good, stopping, at great personal cost, to aid a badly-beaten Jew–his arch-enemy; a conniving steward who is commended for saving his own skin, at his boss’ expense, when he’s about to lose his job; a shepherd who leaves unprotected 99 sheep to search for 1 which has wandered away; a father who rejoices when his son returns home after demanding his inheritance before Dad has died, leaves home, and comes home broke and desperate. All those stories, and others–memorable, and puzzling.


And one that ranks right up there on the scale of "puzzling" is the story of the workers in the vineyard. You probably know how it goes; if you want to find it in your Bible, it’s in Matthew 20:1-16. A vineyard owner (representing God?) has an abundant harvest to bring in. Early in the morning, the vineyard owner goes down to the day labor site, and hires a number of workers for the day, promising to pay them the standard daily wage. Several times throughout the day, he returns to hire more workers–the harvest is the most enormous he’s ever experienced!–and promises to pay them what’s right. They go–including a group hired to work just the last hour. When it’s time to settle up at the end of the day, the laborers are paid from last to first. And they all receive the usual daily wage! Understandably, the ones who’ve worked all day–all day--in the fierce Palestinian sun are furious with their employer for paying all the workers the same wage. The story ends with the owner asking, "Can’t I do what I want with what is mine? Do you begrudge my generosity?"


The answer, of course, is that the owner (God?) can do whatever the owner wishes with what belongs to the owner. If the owner (God?) wishes to be generous, who has a right to stand in the way of that intention?


Now, we might ask a question about this story. It’s a question I never considered, until Pastor Kim Erno asked it during one of our group sessions at the Lutheran Center in Mexico City. ‘What’s more difficult–to work all day, or stand around waiting all day, hoping against hope to be hired?" Hmmmm...interesting question, isn’t it! Which would you rather do?


On a walking tour of the Lutheran Center neighborhood, our group was led into a pleasant park near a small plaza. The park was filled with people at about 2:00 in the afternoon. There were lots of women, children, and older people, as one might expect to find in a park in the middle of the day. There were also lots of men, lined up, leaning against a wall, with unhappy looks on their faces. What were they doing there? Well, they were waiting to be hired as day laborers. They’d been there all day. Some other men had been hired for the day, but these men–I’d guess there were 25-30 of them–had not. And, at that time of the day, it looked like their chances of putting a little food on the family table that evening were pretty slim. I couldn’t help but wonder how many children of those men would go to bed hungry that night–and how often that happened in their lives.


What would be more difficult, we might wonder: to be hired from that park early in the morning, and be paid for one’s work, even if it was hard work in a hot sun–or to stand all day, waiting, hoping against hope, for a day job unlikely to become a reality, knowing your family will be hungry again that night?


That’s the reality for all too many Mexican families. Unemployment nationwide approaches 50%. Small farmers are being forced off the land because they can’t produce corn cheaper than it can be brought to the Mexican market by giant transnational corporations, as a result of NAFTA. How ironic, especially since corn (maize) was first domesticated in Mexico 7,000 years ago. It’s no wonder the Mexican peasants say, "sin maiz - no pais"–"without corn, there is no nation". So what are those peasants doing when they can no longer live off the land? Flocking to the cities, in hopes of finding work there. And some of them do–as street vendors or in other segments of Mexico’s expansive "informal economy". These jobs, however, are not adequate to support a worker and the worker’s family.


Why, if I were in that situation, if I were that desperate, I might even consider crossing the border illegally, taking the risk of being detained, or being acosted by Minutemen, or dying in the desert, or of having no other option but to work in a sweat-shop near the border. If I were in that situation, I think I’d be desperate enough to do whatever it takes to feed my family.


Now, I have one more question. I’ll leave you to ponder it. If God is as generous as the owner of the vineyard in the parable–and we have ample evidence in the Bible of God’s generosity!–and if God favors the last and the least, then what do you suppose God is up to in Mexico?

Personas son personas son personas (or People are people are people)

Two of my many memorable experiences in Mexico involved visits to homes of ordinary people. These visits took place during our time in Cuernavaca, a "small" city of only a million or so people about 1-1/2 hours south of Ciudad de Mexico.

One morning we made our way to "La Estacion" (The Station)–a squatter community established nearly 50 years ago, but with ownership still disputed–by railroad workers who wanted to live where they worked. The train station is no longer there, not even the railroad tracks–but the homes still are. There is also an effective community outreach center, established by Franciscan nuns, empowering the mothers of the community (many of the fathers are working in the U.S.) to support themselves and their childrens’ education and teaching moms and children about their value as persons and about nutrition. This photo is of a beautiful altar hanging, hand-crocheted by one of the women of "La Estacion," which I purchased for less than $20.

Our groups divided into two segments, and each of us went to one of the homes in the community. Some homes, we noticed, were little more than corrugated cardboard shanties. The home we visited, headed by a dignified widow nick-named Dona Tasha, was sturdier than some, 200 meters square, and also housed Tasha’s youngest children and several grandchildren. "La Estacion" is located on potentially prime commercial real estate, so developers are eager to move the people out of the community. Tasha hopes that the government will allow her to purchase the home she has lived in for 20 years, and said she would be able to pay the price that had been suggested. If they are not allowed to stay, Tasha does not know where else who would live; she would probably have to move into the already-crowded home of one of her adult children. But Tasha lives with hope. She is proud of her children and grandchildren, and has encouraged them to pursue their educations–which they are doing. Not to be outdone, Tasha, who has completed the equivalent of 3rd grade, has two more exams to study for and pass and then will have earned her G.E.D.–at the age of nearly 60. What a courageous woman! I asked her what gives her hope, and she said, "My faith in God." A short message–but a powerful one, authenticated by the way she lives her life.

A couple days later, our group, this time divided into four segments, traveled to another neighborhood–this one obviously of a little higher economic class. We had seen no cars in "La Estacion," but here we saw many cars. Later, we learned it was probably a lower middle-class neighborhood, one that had improved itself over the years due, in large part, to the past work of the Catholic Church in the neighborhood, called "Santa Fe" (Holy Faith). The church had organized Christian Base Communities, small groups of laity who shared their experience with poverty and oppression, reflected on it in the light of Scripture, and found in the Word and in community the courage to claim their human rights and dignity.

Each of our four groups was to spend 24 hours in the home of a family in the neighborhood. We were both eager for and anxious about this experience. We knew it would be a valuable cross-cultural experience, and we had no doubt we would be shown generous hospitality–which we were!–but we were anxious about whether we would like the food and whether we would be able to communicate across the language barrier. In our group of 4 American guests, the Spanish was quite limited–but, fortunately, the family’s 15-year-old daughter spoke fluent, un-accented English. (They had lived in the U.S. for 11 years.) It turned out to be a wonderful experience! Not only was the language barrier overcome (and some of us got to stretch our limited Spanish a bit), but the food from Yolanda’s kitchen was absolutely delicious! The photo is of the Delgado family at their dining room table.

While there, we watched a DVD of Cynthia’s quincenera celebration (an elaborate religious and social rite of passage ceremony, including a special Mass and a party, for 15-year-old females). I had heard about the quincenera, but had not fully understood it until now. Then we went with Cynthia, her friend Nicole, and her father Jesus to watch him play soccer (or, in Mexico, "futbol"; our version of football is called there "futbol americano"). Jesus scored 3 goals and led his team to a 5-3 victory. It was fun!

We spent the evening sharing pictures and stories about our families (the Delgados have 3 children and 6 granchildren in the U.S., including one son in the Navy), talking about what it means to be a Lutheran with this typical Mexican Catholic family, viewing fireworks from a nearby neighborhood’s festival, and showing the family our church websites on their computer. As a bonus, we had the opportunity to send an email note back home.

In the morning, we had our third excellent meal, then gathered with the other host families and guests for a time of sharing and conversation. The whole overnight experience was exquisite! Here's a photo of our group of four with our Mexican hosts:

Among the things we learned from the Delgados was this interesting fact: when in America, Jesus once worked in construction for $40/hour, while now in Mexico he occasionally is able to work as a cab driver for $30/day. Yet, when he fills the gas tank of his small pickup truck, it costs him the equivalent of $40–not much different from the price we pay.

I don’t believe I’ll ever forget how the Delgados touched our lives and how gracious their hospitality was, even though we are much, much better off financially than they are.

From both these experiences visiting with people of Mexico, I was reminded again of a reality that I have long believed to be true in my head. But now I saw it with my eyes and experienced it with my heart: "personas son personas son personas"–people are people are people. Because, as different as we were from both the Delgados and Dona Tacha–different in economic status, different in ethnicity, culture and language, and different in nationality– this struck me as true: rich or poor, of whatever country or color, whatever our language, we all have in our hearts one strong and common longing. And this makes us much more alike than different: we want our children and grandchildren to have a good education, live in safety, enjoy adequate food and shelter, and have an opportunity to pursue their goals and better their lives, and we will make significant sacrifices to help make that happen. I was reminded of the old hymn, based on a saying of Jesus: "In Christ there is no east or west, in him no south or north, but one great fellowship of love throughout the whole wide earth."

What a blessing it was to experience that truth, first-hand, through encounter with Dona Tacha and the Delgados!