Lessons from the Civil War, or War of Northern Aggression, or Recent Unpleasantness, or...

Our daughter--in-law lent us book a while ago, and I've slowly been working my way through it.  It really is a fascinating read.  It's written by Pulitzer-prize winning author Tony Horowitz.  The book is titled, Confederates in the Attic: Dispatches from the Unfinished Civil  

War.  

 As a student of history, there were many things in the book that I already knew.  It still is an astoundingly sobering fact to me that more Americans were killed in the War Between the States than in the totals put together from all of the other wars in which we have been involved!  But Horowitz wrote many things that were new to me.

 

He wrote that many southerners feel that the Civil War amounted to little more than a continuation of the long-standing conflicts between the English and the Celtic peoples; the north was settled predominantly by English immigrants, the south by Scots and Irish.

 

He wrote that the War is still so vivid to so many people in the south because of casualties and immigration patterns.  To quote:

"Roughly half of modern-day white Southerners descended from Confederates, and one in four Southern men of military age died in the War.  For Yankee men, the death rate was about one in ten, and waves of post-War immigration left a far lower ratio of Northerners with blood ties to the conflict."

 

Those were new things to me, and I'm still pondering those ideas.  But Horowitz also wrote about one particular town that he came across in the sojourn - really, in the pilgrimage - he took through the South.  He told the story about the small town of Fitzgerald, Georgia.  It is the county seat of Ben Hill County in south-central Georgia, and in 2012 had a population of 9,048.  Some of the streets in this village are named Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan, and others are named Lee, Jackson, Longstreet, and Bragg.  In other words, many of the streets are named after both Union and Confederate generals.  The town was developed by a Midwestern newspaper editor, Philander Fitzgerald, in 1895.  He had been a drummer boy for the Union army, and, in the midst of a severe drought in the early 1890's in the Midwest, concocted the idea of starting "a soldier's colony in the Southland and get all those old boys away from the bitter winters and drought."  He approached the governor of Georgia at the time, a Confederate veteran, and the two began to share the dream of a town that could be a place of refuge from the bitterness that still existed about the War.  Cautiously, the town planned its first veterans' parades, scheduling two of them: one for Union vets, the other for Confederates.  But when the band started playing, veterans of both armies "spontaneously joined and marched through the town together.  Thereafter, they merged to form Battalion One of the Blue and Gray, and celebrated their reconciliation annually."

 

Just imagine... After the tremendous bitterness and the losses inflicted during that dreadful time in our nation's history, people in this little village in southern Georgia, located less than 15 miles from the spot where President Jefferson Davis was captured on May 10, 1865, simply decided to put it all behind them, and to march - together - into a new future!

 

Wouldn't it be refreshing if even a small group of Republicans and Democrats simply decided to move beyond partisan politics and join together to forge a new way forward?  Wouldn't it be redeeming if even a small group of anti-abortion and pro-choice individuals could move beyond their impassioned rhetoric and see how they might work together in a new direction?  Wouldn't it be a sign of hope if some of the Shiite and Sunni Muslims throughout the Middle East could move forward in peace, holding on to the many things about their faith that unite them rather than going to war over the things that divide them?  Wouldn't it be a sign to the world if the Christian Church could stop our bickering over... fill-in-the-blank... marriage, ordination, property, denominational loyalty or denominational desertion, etc., etc., and instead find ways to forge partnerships in mission and service, in compassion and peace, in justice and grace that would be a fulfillment of Jesus' prayer that his followers be united?

 

I think that when I get discouraged about the many signs of division and hurt, of conflicts and fights in our world and in our society, I'll remember the folks in Fitzgerald, Georgia, who one day, long ago, simply decided that, in that place deep in the heart of Dixie, they would move forward together.

A conundrum about weddings

I remember very clearly one interview I had with a Pastor Nominating Committee years ago.  We had been in conversations for a couple of months, and we were getting serious.  We had a Saturday morning time set aside to make a final discernment together.  I regretted having to call them a few days before that time to tell them I had to reschedule our interview, since a member of the congregation I was serving had just died, and the funeral had been set for Saturday morning.  (I was not far from the PNC's church, so rescheduling was fairly easily accomplished... thankfully.)  We agreed to meet on Saturday afternoon.

When I got to the church the committee was already gathered.  After some informal visiting, we prayed together, and then began our discussion.  Someone asked me how the funeral went... which I always find to be an interesting, if not a little peculiar, question.  I vividly remember looking at this person, and then at the rest of the committee, and saying, "You ought to know this about me.  Most times I would rather do a funeral than a wedding any day.  At least in a funeral, the focus is clearly on God and our need for God's presence in our circumstances.  In many weddings, the focus is on the dress, the tuxes, who's standing next to whom, where to sit family so no one is offended... in other words, almost anything except a clear focus on God and our need for God in that circumstance!"  There was a marked pause, and then folks slowly started to shake their heads in understanding and agreement.  "I can see that," said one.  (By the way, they ended up inviting me to candidate, and I ended up serving as the pastor of that congregation for eight years.  So, they clearly weren't too shocked at my comment.)

To be sure, there are weddings that are an absolute joy to be a part of, and I am grateful for times when I have been invited to be a part of such a celebration of covenantal love.  But then there are "those" weddings... where family members can hardly keep good manners, where everyone is distracted by things (like clothes and who stands where) that really don't make one bit of difference in the long run, where my mention of God almost seems an inconvenient interruption in the events of the day for people.

Over the years, I've come up with an easy solution... but one I doubt if I'll ever see... although one never knows.  I believe that our Presbyterian Book of Order ensnares us in an inescapable conundrum in the first two sentences in the section on marriage (W-4.9000 for those "inquiring minds" among readers).  Here is what it says:  "Marriage is a gift God has given to all humankind for the well-being of the entire human family.  Marriage is a civil contract between a woman and a man."

Now, the Church is going to be wrestling once again at this year's General Assembly in two weeks, focusing on the second sentence above... but focusing on the last six words of that sentence.  I contend that it is the first five words that present us with our dilemma... or at least with the dilemma I have felt over the years.  I'd welcome a day to come where the Church no longer is in the "business" of overseeing "civil contracts" between people in a marriage.  We Presbyterians believe strongly - even vehemently at times - in the separation of Church and State.  Yet here we continue to put ministers at weddings in the position of functioning as an official at a State ceremony, having to sign a State-issued marriage license.  It would be cleaner, in my opinion, and would solve all sorts of dilemmas, if we just declared that we were getting out of the wedding business as a Church!  If people want to be married, then go to the State and have a civil ceremony to satisfy the legalities of a marriage relationship.  But then, if the couple wants to proclaim and give witness to the importance that their faith in God has for their marriage, that is when you would come to the Church.  Then is when there would be a joy-filled worship service, clearly focusing on God as the source of all love and the one who blesses our covenant relationships.

As I said, I'm not going to hold my breath on this one, but I do think that wedding ceremonies then really could be services of the worship of God, asking the Lord to bless this already-married couple and their relationship, giving public witness to the joys, responsibilities, and blessings of what it means to the Church and to our society to live together in a covenant relationship.

Who knows?  I might be surprised some day... and it would be a surprise that I would surely welcome.

So What's an unConference?

If you follow along on our Presbytery's Facebook page or Twitter feed you'll have noticed that I spent the first part of last week at what was called UNCO14.  I wrote about that a bit in this space last Monday, but, now that I've experienced it, I'd like to share some more.

Rather than being focused on one particular speaker or one particular theme, an unConference is simply a gathering of folks from across the country who come together with a passion for Christ and for the Church to talk about issues that are of burning importance.  It is a time to share dreams, to express fears, to envision new things, to discover new resources, to draw upon the experiences of folks from around the Church.  And there were not just Presbyterians there!  Folks from the United Church of Christ, the United Methodist Church, the American Baptist Church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, and the Episcopal Church attended... as well as an independent, charismatic pastor who is leading a new church development with her husband, and a Unitarian Universalist pastor.  It was a rich and diverse mix.

When we gathered together, we worshiped, and then we were invited to go and write on a large piece of paper whatever it was that was most pressing for us that we'd like to explore with others.  The result looked like this...

The group's conveners then suggested how some of those topics might be grouped together for discussion, and we spent most of the next two days in small groups exploring new ways to be, and to do, Church.  It was exciting to be in a place that encouraged the free-flow of dreams and conversations.  Over the five years that UNCO's have been being held, a total of twenty new ministries have been started!

This time got me wondering about our own Presbytery.  What would it look like if we gathered for an unMeeting?  We've decided to limit our formal, stated meetings to two a year, with the hopes that other gatherings would spring up.  That hasn't happened yet, but what about doing something like this?  What would it feel like to gather together with no set docket, no motions to make and second, no business to do?  What might the Holy Spirit birth within us if we simply gathered to dream and envision, to pray with and support one another, to explore new ways in which Christ might be calling us to share the Gospel?  And if we did something like this, what would you write on the paper; what would you most like to explore with others?

Those of us who are ordained to the ministries of the Church have vowed to serve the people with "energy, intelligence, imagination, and love."  All of us have dreams about what we'd like to experience in the Church.  Would you be willing to share your dream with others and explore where God might be leading us all?  It's worth considering, don't you think?

Busy-ness and praying?

St. Paul called us to "pray always," or "pray without ceasing."  The Orthodox tradition of the Jesus Prayer as a guide for praying continually is helpful, but I don't always remember to use that.  (If you are not familiar with that particular spiritual tradition among our Orthodox brothers and sisters, and if you'd like to know more, just holler; I'd love to talk with folks about that.)  So living into an attitude of prayer is something that I continue to find myself needing more and more.  It's ironic, isn't it, to think that finding/making time for prayer is something that a "Church person" needs to do more of?  And yet I confess it freely... knowing that I am most assuredly not alone in this need.

Whether working in and for the Church, or working somewhere else, or going to school, or living into retirement, most all of us have busy lives filled with too many things, too many appointment, too many worries, too many distractions from the spiritual life.  In his wonderful and challenging book, The Contemplative Pastor, Eugene Peterson wrote these words.  Now, he was writing to pastors, but I think it applies to most all of us.

"It takes time to develop a life of prayer: set-aside, disciplined, deliberate time. It isn't accomplished on the run... I know I can't be busy and pray at the same time.  I can be active and pray; I can work and pray; but I cannot be busy and pray.  I cannot be inwardly rushed, distracted, or dispersed.  In order to pray I have to be paying more attention to God than to what people are saying to me; to God than to my clamoring ego."

I'm going to be working again to make the time to pray... even, or perhaps especially, as I work.  Work and prayer are not mutually exclusive; quite the contrary.  The key, I believe, is being consciously aware of God's presence within us, working through us, in the lives of others we meet, in the splendor of creation.  Care to join in this endeavor?

Just imagine...

Several years ago I attended a two-day seminar led by Dr. John McClure, who now is the Charles G. Finney Professor of Preaching and Worship at Vanderbilt University Divinity School.  He talked with us about his then-recently published book, Roundtable Preaching: Where Preaching and Leadership Meet.  In that book he proposes a unique way to make sermon writing a collaborative effort between pastor and members of the congregation.  It is a fascinating idea, and one that I utilized for a couple of years with a rotating group of members of the church I served at the time as pastor.  One of the unique methods he describes is working together to look at a biblical passage and try to envision the broader picture of the passage:

·      whose voices do we hear?

·      whose voices are not lifted up in the passage?

·      who might have been standing on the edges of the scene?

·      what might they have been thinking or saying?

·      what might we say if we were there?

It was a wonderful and powerful prescription that helps one really delve into a biblical story.  It never failed to help me find new insights about a passage.

Especially this week - which we in the Church have come to recognize as an especially Holy Week - what do we see, really see, in the events of Jesus' Passion?

·      What did Jesus and the disciples do the afternoon and evening after the entry into Jerusalem?

·      What kinds of things did they talk about?

·      How thick was the tension in conversations on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and the hours before they gathered for the Passover meal?

·      What side talks were going on during that meal?

·      What would we have been doing on that Friday?

·      How much despair would we have felt on Saturday?

·      And would we have believed the women who came with their improbable, preposterous news of early Sunday morning?

This is the high drama week of the liturgical year, because the events of this week were quite literally about life and death.  Let us be faithful in walking with Jesus and the disciples this week... and let us do so with our minds, our hearts, our spirits, our imaginations, and our faith wide open to all that happens.

Where are our Easter practices?

Today is the second day in the seven-week-long season of Easter in the life of the Church. Although every Sunday is a "little Easter" (which is why there are Sundays in Lent, not Sundays of Lent), this is the beginning of the longest special season of the liturgical year. In her book, To Dance with God: Family Ritual and Community Celebration, Gertrude Mueller Nelson shares a story about something her family did each Monday after Easter.

"So it is right and proper that we celebrate the days of Easter with joy.  I will admit to having kept my children out of school on Easter Monday for years.  The school holidays before Easter were steeped in preparations and anticipation.  Now we needed time for rejoicing. I think the children liked that Monday holiday especially; it was so unlike us to take a 'well day' off work and school.

"When the children were small we would plan to meet another family or two, usually by the marsh waters near our home. That was the favorite Easter Monday picnic place... Always we got wet. We learned about the traditions of getting wet on Easter Monday first from a favorite children's book which we have read and reread for years especially at Eastertime. The Good Master by Kate Seredy tells of an Hungarian family, and the accounts of their Easter celebrations caught our interest.  On Easter Monday, the young boys of Hungarian villages went from house to house, and wherever young girls lived, they came up to the door, recited a blessing and then splashed the girls with water. The girls in turn invited them in and everyone feasted on Easter specialities, and the girls gave the boys some of their carefully painted eggs to take home.  On Easter Tuesday they replayed the whole game in reverse."

The days before Easter are, indeed, filled with "preparations and anticipation," aren't they?  They are days of retelling the ancient stories, days of drama, days of mixed emotions, days that seem to drag out until Easter morning.  But what about the days (and weeks) after Easter? Do you have any special traditions that you observe? We don't... and it makes me wonder why?  After all, we Christians believe that everything has changed because of the Easter message!  Why wouldn't we have our own traditions to continue the wonder, joy, and celebrations?

¡Cristo ha resucitado!

Christos anesti!

Christus ist auferstanden!

Le Christ est ressuscité!

Cristo ressuscitou!

Tá méadú tagtha ar Críost!

Christ is Risen!

Spanish, Greek, German, French, Portuguese, Irish, or English... It makes no difference. The meaning is the same, and the world was forever changed by its truth.  Let's find some ways to continue the celebration!

Sabbath Thoughts

When I was serving as the pastor of a congregation, I worked very hard to take my day off every week.  Over the years, Friday became the day that seemed to work best for this.  To be sure, the occasional wedding rehearsal or funeral would push into that day off, but otherwise I tried to keep that day sacrosanct.

Several years ago, however, someone asked a question that still causes me to pause and consider.  A group of us teaching elders were talking about taking our day off each week, when one of our group looked at us and said, "Well, I take Thursday as my day off, and Friday as my sabbath."  She said that so matter-of-factly that it took me a while to have the implications of her words sink in for me.  I realized then that a "day off" is not necessarily the same as "sabbath."

Theologian and rabbi, Abraham Heschel, in his old (1951) book, The Sabbath, Its Meaning for Modern Man (sic), offered these words about the sabbath:

"The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space.  Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time.  It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation; from the world of creation to the creation of the world..."

These weeks of Easter in the Church's life remind us that in the Resurrection of Jesus, God broke the normal patterns for time and space.  What better time might we be offered than to use these Easter weeks to reflect on how we spend our time in the midst of our busy lives in an overly-frenetic world?  What does it really mean to observe some time each week (each day?) as Sabbath time?

As I indicated, I still struggle with this.  Perhaps you do, too.  May the Lord of the Sabbath help us find ways to hallow the times in our lives.