Category: Uncategorized

Theological Thought of the Day

On By J. Barrett LeeIn Uncategorized1 Comment
Jesus of the People by Janet McKenzie

“Jesus has been so zealously worshipped, his deity so vehemently affirmed, his halo so brightly illumined, and his cross so beautifully polished that in the minds of many he no longer exists as a man. He has become an exquisite celestial being who momentarily and mistakenly lapsed into a painful involvement in the human scene, and then quite properly returned to his heavenly habitat. By thus glorifying him we more effectively rid ourselves of him than did those who tried to do so by crudely crucifying him.”

~Clarence Jordan, from the Introduction to the Cotton Patch Version of Luke and Acts

Stackhouse Interview

On By J. Barrett LeeIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Here is a link to an interview with Dr. John Stackhouse, one of my former professors at Regent College.

A unique voice among evangelicals, Stackhouse’s commitment to the ideological via media in religious public discourse is simultaneously challenging and encouraging.

The video is broken into several small clips on YouTube.

You can also follow Stackhouse’s blog by clicking on the link in my blogroll.

Love is our Resistance

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There are moments in a pastor’s life… well, there are moments.

I must admit that I have trouble lending eloquent and poetic words to the experience of sitting with parents who have just lost a child.  Can any other event make you feel like the universe has gone so completely ass-backwards?

After receiving that phone call, I got into my car and drove to work at Utica College, where I lectured today on Albert Camus and the absurdity of existence.  Camus had the idea that life is meaningless, and that human beings regain their dignity by defiantly shaking their fist at the empty sky and continuing to live honorable and courageous lives in spite of life’s meaninglessness.

As a Christian, I share Camus’ defiant spirit, but not his faith in absurdity.  I choose to see this universe as meaningful because I believe it is founded and centered upon love.  Camus and others would have me believe that love, in reality, consists of an electro-chemical reaction in my brain that has been conditioned into a herd-instinct by eons of evolution.

I believe that love originates in the heart of the Trinity, which exists at the center of reality.  The universe and all who dwell in it are but ripples and refractions of that love, hovering over the waters of chaos and piercing the darkness saying, “Let there be light.”

Love  is defiant in the face of death and chaos.  It mourns with friends and marches on picket lines.  Love moves over to make room for the stranger on the bus and in society.  The act of love is a rebellion.

Whenever we tap into love through seemingly insignificant acts of human compassion, we unleash that power which forms the fundamental building blocks of all creation, dwarfing even the power of the atom.

Like Camus, I shake my fist at the universe, not because it is meaningless, but because it is meaningful.  I will continue to love as best I can, because I choose to trust its power beyond that of the bullet, the ballot, or the dollar.  I choose to believe that our small acts of love in the face of death have the power to transcend death because they are rooted in the Source of all life.

“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave.  Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame.  Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.  If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.” -Song of Solomon 8:6-7

The Voice of the Voiceless

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Icon by Br. Robert Lentz, OFM

Óscar Arnulfo Romero y Galdámez

(August 15, 1917 – March 24, 1980)

As an archbishop who witnessed ongoing violations of human rights, Romero initiated and gave his status to a group which spoke out on behalf of the poor and the victims of the Salvadoran civil war. In many ways Romero was closely associated with Liberation Theology and openly condemned both Marxism and Capitalism. In 1980, as he finished giving his homily during Mass, Romero was assassinated by a group headed by former major Roberto D’Aubuisson. This provoked an international outcry for reform in El Salvador. After his assassination, Romero was succeeded by Monsignor Arturo Rivera. In 1997, a cause for beatification and canonization into sainthood was opened for Romero, and Pope John Paul II bestowed upon him the title of Servant of God. The process continues. He is considered by some the unofficial patron saint of the Americas and El Salvador and is often referred to as “San Romero” by Catholics in El Salvador. Outside of Catholicism, Romero is honored by other religious denominations of Christendom, including the Church of England through the Calendar in Common Worship. He is one of the ten 20th century martyrs who are depicted in statues above the Great West Door of Westminster Abbey in London.

Reprinted from Wikipedia

Let us pray.

Almighty God, you called your servant Oscar Romero to be a voice for the voiceless poor, and to give his life as seed of freedom and a sign of hope: Grant that, inspired by his sacrifice and the example of the martyrs of El Salvador, we may without fear or favor witness to your Word who abides, your Word who is Life, even Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be praise and glory now and for ever.  Amen.

Reprinted from Lesser Feasts and Fasts (2006)

Transfiguration

On By J. Barrett LeeIn Bible study reflection, Uncategorized1 Comment

Here is my collection of themes from tonight’s Bible study at St. James Mission:

Our text was the story of the Transfiguration, Luke 9:28-43a.

Mountaintop experiences can be intimidating.  I spent several years attending churches where dramatic stories of religious conversion were highly valued.  One had to be careful about attending services where time was given for individual testimonies of faith.  These services had a tendency to degenerate into amateur preach-offs worthy of American Idol.

These churches seemed to believe in a connection between one’s spiritual credibility and the intensity of one’s mystical experiences.  Is this connection justified?

I think most of us are unable to relate to a spiritual experience as profound as the Transfiguration.  The average person’s meeting with God tends to take a less dramatic form.  Some of us may have “A-ha!” moments where a spiritual truth will hit home in a new way.  Others of us might be able to relate to John Wesley, who felt his heart being “strangely warmed” by God’s presence.  Then again, many of us have not had any mystical experience at all.  Does that make us less worthy than those who see visions or hear voices?

When I look at Jesus’ disciples in this story, I feel compelled to answer in the negative.  This dramatic encounter, which involves shining lights, visions of ancient heroes, and voices from the sky, is not restricted  to the ultra-worthy.  Nor does the disciples’ witnessing the Transfiguration seem to have turned them  into saints overnight.  In this passage, they fall asleep, speak without thinking, and utterly fail in their attempt to heal a sick child.

Jesus says to them, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you?”  As harsh as this statement sounds, it highlights the truth that dramatic mystical experiences are not necessarily related to real faith.

Real faith is found in our response to God’s presence in our lives (regardless of how that presence manifests itself).  In the story of the Transfiguration, that response takes two forms.  First, the disciples are told to listen to Jesus.  In order to listen, one must pay attention.  Things like prayer, meditation, the Bible, church, and the sacraments are all effective tools for helping us pay attention, but they are not the only tools God uses.  What helps you pay attention to God in your life?

Second, Jesus leads the disciples down the mountain and back into the real world, where a father waits with his sick child.  It seems that Peter would rather stay on the mountaintop and build a monument, but Jesus is more interested in the work that needs to be done.  In our community, there are scores of people who are homeless, hungry, and hurting.  If we want our experiences on the mountaintop to mean anything, we must take them with us into the valley of the shadow of death.  Any spirituality that doesn’t matter out on the street is a spirituality that doesn’t matter at all.

“Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.  As they pass through the valley of weeping, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools.”  -Psalm 84:6-7

Showing Up

On By J. Barrett LeeIn Community Chaplaincy, Uncategorized5 Comments

Woody Allen once said, “Eighty percent of success is showing up.”

As I move into my third year of ordained ministry on the outskirts of reality, I’m beginning to believe him.  That being said, there’s still this part of me that wants to walk into every crisis with brilliant theological answers and practical solutions that will make life easier.

Henri Nouwen described this inner urge as the temptation to be relevant. Spiritual caregivers sometimes get to feeling insecure about their sense of call, so they try to make themselves look useful by becoming pop psychologists and amateur social workers.  This is dangerous, according to Nouwen, because it takes us away from the task of being fully present with someone.  We can’t authentically connect with others in a meaningful way if we’re too busy covering for our own insecurities.

This task is both easier and harder for me, given the particular milieu in which I am called to minister.  It’s harder because the experimental nature of the ministry I do and the visible neediness of people on the street make me want to justify my presence in some way.  On the other hand, it’s easier because all my fancy theological footwork is utterly lost on someone who quotes Bible verses that don’t exist and reads poetry off a blank piece of paper.  As for my brilliant practical solutions, more often than not they’re like plugging up a leaky dam with your finger.  It won’t matter one bit when the entire structure eventually gives way.

In the end, it’s one’s physical and spiritual presence that counts.  I may offer a ride or some kind of assistance.  Our conversation may turn toward the Bible or spirituality.  But the real ministry is accomplished by showing up.  Being present in the darkest corners of the community sends a message that God has not in fact forsaken us.  God is right here in our midst.  God is listening to our drunken rambling.  God is receiving our gift of books found in a dumpster.  God is chatting about last night’s football game by the fireplace.  God is learning how to play craps on the kitchen counter.

These friends have been the sacramental presence of Christ to me; now I get to return the favor.  In the end, that is my only real raison d’être on the street.  The only real fruit of this ministry is that which grows naturally off the vine of these relationships.

After hanging around the neighborhood for a year, someone told me today, “Even though I left God, I can see now that God never left me.”

I guess I’ll keep showing up.

Paper Armor

On By J. Barrett LeeIn Community Chaplaincy, Uncategorized1 Comment

One of the most impressive things about our society is the efficiency with which we armor ourselves from one another.  Yesterday, I had a run-in with an SUV at an intersection in Utica.  Thankfully, no one was injured.  What’s even more remarkable is that when we got out to inspect our vehicles, neither of us could find any damage on our cars.  On this occasion, efficient armor was most welcome.

Later in the day, I encountered another kind of armor for which I was not so glad.  A disabled veteran informed me that his social security check had not arrived since December.  His shoes had worn through so that his feet were getting soaked as he limped through the snow, but there was no money in his account for new shoes.  After some bureaucratic wrestling, it was determined that the checks were being sent to his previous address.  His previous caseworker had quit and paperwork had been lost in the shuffle.  The error has been corrected, but he still won’t be able to get money for shoes until Tuesday.  I hope the weather warms up this weekend.

Later still, an elderly woman showed me a letter she received from an insurance company.  She was in the hospital last month and the company just now decided that her visit would not be covered.  The letter was so full of jargon that neither of us could understand it.  We had to call someone in North Carolina to serve as interpreter.

Our healthcare and social service systems seem to be designed to isolate the rest of humanity from the suffering of the weak.  Whether the system is privatized or government-run, red tape will still protect the person holding the checkbook from the person who needs help.  Their paper armor is thin but impenetrable.

I could pontificate about bureaucracy all day, but if I’m truly honest with myself, then I have to admit that I share the desire to run and hide from the suffering of others.  I sat with someone today whose perspective on reality is all but lost in a fog of alcohol and insanity.  I try to listen attentively, but it’s getting harder and harder to understand.  The better part of me wants to believe that I can still be an effective pastor.  The rest of me wants to dump him in rehab and come back when he’s sober.

Sometimes, I think it would be so much easier to recite a biblical passage and then be on my way.  Who knows?  I still might do it.  There’s something to be said for the pastoral rites of the church, but they’re not meant to be used as cop-outs.  What I want to resist in myself is the desire to put on my own paper armor: whether it’s a bureaucratic form, a liturgical service, or a biblical passage.  I want to stay engaged with the real suffering of those who live in the darkest corners of this community.

What I need is for the love of the Suffering Servant, who “has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases”, to flow through me in fresh ways.   His love gave him the strength to stand in solidarity with outcasts, to touch lepers, and to do all that without hiding behind the paper armor of bureaucratic systems.

Maranatha.

Catching People

On By J. Barrett LeeIn Bible study reflection, UncategorizedLeave a comment

 

Finally, I enter the blogosphere!  I convinced myself the other day that if Dorothy Day were writing now, she might have blogged rather than printed.  Let’s face it: it’s cheaper.

So, my plan is to keep a record of my search for God in the margins of society.  Sometimes (like tonight) I’ll be reflecting on our Thursday night Bible study at St. James Mission.  For you sermon writers out there, our Bible study is based on the texts in Revised Common Lectionary that will appear on the following Sunday.

When I’m not doing that, I’ll be trying to make sense of the time I spend on the streets as a Community Chaplain.  Confidentiality will be maintained.

If anyone cares to read or comment, that would be awesome.  If anyone lives locally (Utica, NY) and wants to show up at our Bible study, that would be even more awesome.  We meet Thursdays, 6pm, at First Presbyterian Church (1605 Genesee Street).

At tonight’s Bible study, we read Luke 5:1-11. Click here to read the passage.

People were drawn to the enigmatic image of “catching people” that Jesus presents to Simon at the end of the passage.

One person commented on the fact that the fishermen in this story used nets instead of poles.  “The whole community of fish gets caught, not just one.”  This flies in the face of our society, in which spirituality has been privatized.  We’ve been conditioned to think of ourselves as individuals, not as communal beings.

Someone else noticed that a fish caught on a pole gets to choose whether or not to take the bait, but a fish caught in a net has no choice whatsoever.  This too is a countercultural idea in a consumerist society where choice is so valued.

Another person pointed out that a fisherman, when using a net, does not discriminate between fish.  The fisherman can’t say, “You’re too sickly.  You’re the wrong kind of fish.  You’re a tuna.”  In the same way, God doesn’t discriminate between people as they’re being “caught” in the net of Jesus.  Male or female, black or white, straight or gay, religious or irreligious, all people are embraced by the net.

God’s activity, according to this passage, is something that whole communities get “caught up in”, not something that individuals choose for themselves.  Where then can we look to find examples of God at work in the life of a community?

One man remembered the way that the gay community rallied around one another during the height of the AIDS crisis in America.

Someone else mentioned a news article about Haiti after the earthquake.  The report indicated that the streets of the city turned into one big church at night, with Catholics and Protestants worshiping together until two in the morning.

A third person told a story about a group of factory workers somewhere in Latin America.  The owners of the factory owed the workers about six million dollars in unpaid wages.  As it turned out, the factory building itself was worth about the same amount.  In lieu of pay, the workers took control of the factory and turned it into a labor cooperative.  The oppressive management had been replaced by the workers themselves in a new spirit of justice and equality.