Category: Faith

Yesterday, I convinced two of my classmates to attend my Lutheran field site on Sunday morning. I recently discovered that my advisor (and professor of two of my classes) was going to lead the adult education hour between services. Her plan was to cover the Book of Acts. That peaked my interest because I have a group project for her class covering that very book! I convinced my group to gather together at the adult education hour with the idea of freaking her out a little. She laughed when I told her why we were there (and also informed us that the cheat sheet she handed out to us cannot be in our assignment). All in all, it was a success and I enjoyed seeing her handle the conversation. I’m usually involved with Sunday School and my time with adult education is reduced to home bible study groups and the like. In my experience, the more exposure to inquisitive adults that I get, the better. Around twenty five people showed up for the class and the conversation rarely reached into the book of Acts. Many of the questions asked were about the very structure of the bible itself – who wrote what, how was it organized, what are all the other gospels out there, if Luke and Acts are one work, why is the Gospel of John between them, etc. All were good questions and seemed to signal a hunger that I noticed after my last sermon at my field site. The congregation, in many ways, is hungry for this kind of information which is why many people enjoyed the historical context I provided. They want to know, they want to understand, and they don’t seem to be getting enough of that. I’ll need to keep that in mind as I move forward with my time there.

Besides our little fun with our professor, what I really enjoyed was what happened during our the service. A travel snafu left the assisting minister role unfilled so, five minutes before the start of the show, I robed up and prepared. I ran through the service, did my duty, sung the psalm, read the prayers, and brought a certain style and pizzaz to the whole she-bang by wearing pink socks under my alb. But what I really enjoyed was when I distributed the wine during communion. I really got a kick out of telling my classmates, classmates that I had served through their tradition (The Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation) that this is “The Blood of Christ, shed for YOU.” They were on my turf and they had to suffer my tradition. Muhahahaha. Take that Episcopalians! When it comes to my rebellions against seminary, I take all the small victories that I can.

You know, as much as everything changes, everything pretty much stays the same. In the quote below, from the Lutheran Quarterly (April 1899) in an article defending the use of the individual communion cup.

On the subject of vaccination there is also a great difference of opinion. The fearful ravages of small-pox in the past, and the wonderful efficacy of vaccination in mitigating or preventing this dreadful disease, is a matter of history and is well attested, and yet there is to-day a wonderfully vigorous Anti-vaccination Society in England, which is doing all it can through literature and speech, to destroy public confidence in this benign measure. Their argument is, that the infectious character of small-pox has been unduly magnified and that modern medical methods for the treatment of this disease, need no such an ally as vaccination. These two instances are sufficient to prove that it is utter folly to declare the charge of infection from the common cup, as unproved, until there shall exist a unanimity of opinion, both among the laity and among physicians, as to the actual transference of disease germs, in the present custom. If agreement cannot be reached when positive proof is on record and abundantly attested, it will surely never occur, when in the very nature of the cause, indubitable evidence cannot be had.

The author was complaining about an anti-vaccination movement in 1899? Really? Wow, its been 113 years and it feels like nothing has changed. Except for that whole lack-of-small-pox thing.

The Blue Jay is disappointed in my lack of class participation. via buzzfeed.

The problem with going to a non-Lutheran seminary is that there is a very large language gap between Lutherans and the Episcopalians/Anglicans around me. I mean, we use the same words but we’re not saying the same thing. In my class on Ethics, we attempted to examine, somewhat, Lutheran ethics through the lens of Luther’s own perspectives. Sadly, the books that were selected were actually the wrong place to start any fruitful discussion about Lutheran ethics. Rather, they were books that reinforced the misconception that Augustinian ethics is the same thing as Lutheran ethics (Luther’s two kingdoms are not the same as Augustine’s two cities, etc.). I think, based on some massive generalizations, that such a misconception arises because of the similar words used and the fact that Anglicans love the church fathers/mothers in a non-sexual, non-threatening way, in a way that actually interferes with the realization that Reformers used Augustine in different ways. Luther is Augustinian but he’s not only reading Augustine in one way; i.e. he’s not Anglican.

Now, I know I could have raised my hand and lectured the class about where Lutheran ethics possibly starts (maybe starting from the question of what faith is) but it is getting to the point in the semester where I just don’t have the energy or desire to correct people (I’ll leave that for my papers and projects). And it didn’t help that I was tired and in a bad mood either. So I just sat there, kept myself quiet, and stewed. It was fun to see the class, however, move around on the question of Luther and work some of it out – but it grated on me. And with the internet not really working during that class period, I actually felt I had to pay attention to the discussion and that just didn’t help at all.

In the interests of full communion, maybe I should have opened my mouth and educated my classmates. But, with less than a month of classes left, I just don’t have the time.

I think, maybe, just maybe, I had my first seminary dream about General Seminary last night. I’m not sure how the dream started and I don’t think my seminary was the point of the dream at all but, there it was, hanging out. However, GTS wasn’t located where it usually is in Chelsea; nor was the entire campus there. Rather, the front of the chapel was located in my neighborhood of Washington Heights. And, not only that, it was not really a chapel anymore. It had become one of those storefronts where the merchandise spills out into the street and the entire front is covered in clothes hanging from hangers. And the front was entirely black because it was covered in cassocks. They had cassocks of all sizes! Small, large, child-size, etc. I think there was even a cassock spanx option and, I kid you not, they even had those half mannequins, the ones that are just legs but have some extra room in the back (if you know what I mean) to model jeans, with cassocks on them. Cars, taxies, traffic, and people were wizzing by as I stopped to take a look. My friend Anne came out to talk to me, and several of my friends were moving cassocks from one spot to another. I don’t think they were actually trying to sell anything – they were just moving things up, down, left, right, and using that giant hook to reach the top hangers. And the chapel even had its own awning with pigeons walking along it.

The Chapel of the Good Shepherd as a literal storefront church – that would be pretty wild. I don’t think of mainline protestant churches as storefronts. Even the storefront churches in my neighborhood are being closed down and transformed back into restaurants, stores, and condos. The very idea of a “storefront church” seems rather foreign in a neighborhood that is being gentrified. But it would be wild to take the seminary’s chapel, a chapel that is designed to perform the daily office, and that is locked inside the fortress walls of General Seminary, and put it right out there, on the street, so that anyone could access it. It seems that every week, as I leave seminary, someone on the street and speaks to me that they didn’t know a church was there until they heard the chimes. People don’t really look up, they don’t see signs labeling the building or the entrances; something needs to catch their eye or their ears and intrude into their iPod/iPhone earbud shielded worlds. I wonder if a storefront full of black cassocks, on a Good Friday, when the sky is darkened as Jesus’ breathed his last on the cross – I wonder if all that pious black, would somehow crack into a random passerby’s world, just for a moment, or if, being New Yorkers, we’d need a little more – like some chimes, a loud cry, or maybe a Mr. Softie Ice Cream truck – church style. Hmmm. I don’t know. But a Mr. Softie Ice Cream truck playing A Mighty Fortress is My God might get noticed.

It seems that Time Magazine didn’t want to let Newsweek be the only one to talk about Jesus this week. Rethinking Heaven is Time’s foray into eschatology. I wish I could read the whole thing but I’m not a subscriber. The cover enticed me and, I’ll admit, I want that guys shoes. However, the Politico Playbook felt like sending out a teaser today.

Heaven Can’t Wait: Why rethinking the hereafter could make the world a better place”: “Angels and harps are all well and good, [some younger] Christians believe, but fighting HIV/AIDS is more urgent. This younger generation is driven by … issues of social justice like combatting slavery and homelessness. … The debate doesn’t fit easily on the usual left-right, blue-red, liberal-conservative spectrum. … The divide isn’t about a secular ideal of service vs. a religiously infused vision of reality. It’s about whether believing Christians see earthly life as inextricably bound up with eternal life or as simply a prelude to a heavenly existence elsewhere. …

“I’m a Christian-a poor one, to be sure-who keeps the feast and says his prayers . For me, the scholarly redefinition of heaven as a manifestation of God’s love on earth … at once puts believers in closer proximity to the intent of the New Testament authors and should inspire the religious to open their arms more often than they point fingers. Heaven thus becomes, for now, the reality one creates in the service of the poor, the sick, the enslaved, the oppressed. It is not paradise in the sky but acts of selflessness and love that bring God’s sacred space and grace to a broken world suffused with tragedy until, in theological terms, the unknown hour when the world we struggle to piece together is made whole again.”

Now, I know that this is a generalized news magazine and, based on the quote above, I’m pretty sure that they’re arguing for a scholarly redefinition of heaven that is based, largely, on what is going around in “Evangelical” circles ever since Rob Bell wrote his book last year. “Evangelicals” seem to make a lot of noise so and they seem to have numbers, so they get the articles. But I’m having a hard time seeing how this redefinition of heaven is “new.” I’m currently reading Carl Braaten’s Eschatology and Ethics for my Ethics class and his book, in many ways, is about a basic definition of eschatology where the future is breaking into the current world. It is an eschatology grounded in the gospel of Jesus Christ which “announces the future with the power to shape the present(pg. 70).” And this idea isn’t new. Braaten’s book was written in 1972 and I’m sure that Luther, and Augustine, wrote similarly. My guess, in many ways, is that Time’s new article is a story on the re-structuring of what The Book of Revelation says. It sounds like the article is going to report that young Christians, now, are not buying into the escapism that dominated the conversation, in certain Christian circles, for so long. And, sure, I could easily attack the line about creating heaven on earth but I’m gonna give the quote the benefit of the doubt and let it slide because, well, I don’t have the full article.

It was well planned to leak or release this article on Maundy Thursday. Later this evening, I will gather with my fellow Christians at my field site and we will wash each other’s feet. We will share in Holy Communion and we will, at least briefly, share in Christ’s service. At the end of the service, the altar will be stripped, and the lights lowered as we begin the walk into Good Friday. A rethinking of heaven, grounded in a “realized eschatology” grounded on…something…, could be linked to the act that we commemorate today in our liturgy. But I wonder if this article is going to miss the boat when it comes to mainline churches, especially us Lutherans. I’m pretty young, and I haven’t been in this church for decades, but this image of eschatology appears to play a role in what the Lutheran church has done for many, many years. Luther’s cry for all of us to be “little Christs” to one another is a cry that hasn’t just been rediscovered now. And I hope that little bit shows up in the article. If it doesn’t, then that might be a sign that us Lutherans need to do a better PR job.