Sin?

An article in a recent USA Today focused on the complaints of some clergy that the church has shied away from talking about sin. Everything is just a matter of self-improvement. And if there is no sin from which we need to be rescued, then there is no need for salvation, thus robbing this Holy Week of its power and purpose.

I think that a large part of the problem is that we have focused on sins as actions. This is what we have done that is wrong. The problem is that across the spectrum of Christianity, we are not at all in agreement of what those sins are. I remember someone telling me of visiting a women's group in Rome years ago. The Baptist visitor was astounded to see the women drinking wine at their gathering. One of the women leaned forward and asked the American visitor, with some incredulity, "Is it really true that in your country Christians smoke?"

Some of the ministers complained that sin had been replaced by self-help. As one who is both a minister and a licensed counselor, I see both sides. Many times people act in selfish and hurtful ways out of their own woundedness. They don't do better because they have never been equipped to do better. Woundedness is not an universal excuse. I believe that as you become aware, you also have to accept responsibility. Yes, you had a terrible childhood. Now, what are you going to do with that?

So, has good insurance coverage replaced our need for grace?

I don't think so. I think our fault has been in neglecting Sin in terms of relationship. The big sin of Adam and Eve wasn't the action of eating the apple. It was breaking the relationship of utter trust between them and their Creator. Our sin (in biblical terms, "missing the mark") is in neglecting to foster and nurture our relationship with God. It is forgetting that God desires this relationship as passionately as any lover, that God desires our well-being as deeply as any parent. God wants us to live into the fullness for which we were created.

Grace reminds us that the relationship isn't all our doing and the work is not all ours. Grace holds us even when we make a terrible mess of things, reminding us that God doesn't give up on us. Grace holds up a clear mirror of accountability, but also extends the invitation for new beginnings.

The Ten Commandments may be roughly broken into two parts: How we live with God and How we live with each other. It's no accident that living with God comes first. When I am living in close connection with God's Spirit, seeking to honor God and serve God and love God with my life, things like taking advantage of other people or being less than honest don't even come on my radar screen. Of course, sometimes my own vision can get cloudy, which is why I need a community to help me see the blind spots I've been avoiding.

Perhaps what we need is not more preachers telling us how wrong we've been. What we need is more people reminding us of who we are, and what it means when we live as something less than God's beloved creation.

Hands of blessing

Last night I went to the funeral home for a visitation. The deceased, who'd lived to the ripe old age of 97, had been a long-time and faithful member of the church where I grew up. Her husband had died some twenty years before.

As I talked with both of her children, we reminisced about what a strong advocate their minister father had been for women in ministry. He was truly well ahead of his time in his support. He felt so strongly, in fact, that he stipulated that he wanted women among his pall bearers, and I had the distinct honor of serving that function.

Last night I commented on what a gift it was to me to receive the blessing of his support so early in my own process. I still remember a note he sent me, outlining a writing project he thought I should undertake. "You can do it," he said, underlining the words for emphasis. "We need what you have to offer."

Once when someone learned of my denominational background, they asked, "How old were you when they first told you that you were bad?" I replied that they never did. In fact, what I received from that community was the message that God loved me, God had blessed me with gifts and that part of my faith journey was in learning how to offer those gifts for the sake of the love of God. My church gave me a chance to try my wings even in high school, whether it was using my written prayers in worship or calling on me to preach my first sermon as the designated pastor for youth month.

I think one of the crucial tasks for Christian community is blessing the children and youth among us. We bless them by accepting them and valuing them. We bless them by holding them with loving hands in the nursery, by encouraging their own relationship with God as they grow (and by listening when they teach us.) We bless them by affirming their gifts, listening to their questions and by challenging them to make a difference.

Next month a young woman who grew up in my present church is being ordained. I remember her as a painfully shy little girl when I first met her. Now she preaches with a clear voice. When her mom asked me this week if I'd written a hymn that would be suitable for the service, I sent her a hymn text entitled, "Hands of Blessing."

circle of prayer

When my friend told me that he'd been diagnosed with a brain tumor, one of my first responses was to go home and send an e-mail to friends all over the world, asking them to keep my friend in their prayers. People from all over the country and around the world wrote back to let me know they were doing just that.

Later, I thought about it. Did I actually believe that God answered prayers based on the volume of requests, that if more people were praying for my friend, the greater the likelihood that something good would happen? No, I don't think that it works like that. I don't think there's a critical mass of prayers that have to be reached before something good happens.

I do know that there is some mysterious comfort that comes. Part of the comfort is for me. I know that I am not alone in my concerns and prayers for my friend. People who have been prayed for have described the comfort and strength they felt in that.

Maybe part of the grace is that in sharing our prayers, we become part of God's healing work. Whether or not physical healing takes place, by sharing our prayers we share the comfort, strength and warmth of God's love.

Retreat time

I spent last weekend leading a women's retreat for a local church. We packed up the cars on Friday afternoon, and headed to a lakeside conference center.

We spent the weekend sharing our stories, relaxing, engaging in some cutthroat card games (or so I hear) and laid back ping pong. And, of course, listening for the movement of God's Spirit in our lives.

One of the things that impressed me with this group was the true intergenerational nature. There were young women there and older women (the oldest was in her eighties) and everything in between. And it was a true mixture, not just a token "fun older person."

Part of the fun was for them to spend time with each other. Part of the grace was for them to learn from each other. I had no illusions that as the leader, I was the fountain of wisdom for the group. We all had wisdom to share.

In Kitchen Table Wisdom, Rachel Remen laments the fact that we don't spend as much time sitting around the kitchen table, sharing our stories. We're all too rushed and too scheduled.

Because of this, I think having group retreat times is even more important. Not just a time for us to get away from the clutter of our lives to reflect and to listen for God's voice, but a time for us to get away with one another, open to the fact that God may speak through the person sitting next to us.

Let it snow?

While walking my dog one evening, I happened upon a group of kids and their parents sledding down their hilly front yard. That's not such a big deal, except we haven't had a decent snow here in several years. I wondered how in the world they were able to fill their yard with snow.

A couple of weeks later I had my answer. Now their backyard was filled with snow, and out front was a sign for "backyard snow making" - your own personal snow making machine.

Here's my fundamental problem with this. We are in the midst of s severe drought in this region. Where I live is one of the few cities in the state not under mandatory water restrictions, but they have asked us to conserve on a voluntary basis. Do you have any idea how much water it takes to fill a yard with snow? What struck me most was the absolute disregard for the rest of the community. If their kids could go sledding, why should they care?

In an earlier post I'd written about the trend of children being less connected with nature. Recently saw a newspaper article about the same trend, noting that the number of visitors to national parks were declining. With less connection comes less sense of stewardship and responsibility for care. Why not waste untold gallons of water if my kid can use his sled?

The Judeo-Christian tradition declares that "the earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof," and that we, God's human creatures are to care for that earth. One of the ways that churches can help nurture that sense of caring is by giving children and youth opportunities to experience the grace and glory of creation.

Shall We Dance?

Lately I've been reading Julia Cameron's memoir, Floor Sample. Some of you may know Cameron from her bestselling book, The Artist's Way. As a young adult, Cameron believed that writing and drinking went hand in hand (just look at Hemingway.) As her life spiraled out of control, she had to face the fact that she was an alcoholic.

As her journey unfolds (if you're looking for the master of the five year business plan, you might want to turn elsewhere), Cameron writes frequently of walking or biking while praying, "God, guide me."

Anne Lamott has said that we really only have two prayers, "Help me, help me, help me" and "thank you, thank you, thank you." If I'm honest, I think I'm much better at the "thank you" prayer than the "help me."

I don't know why. Maybe it's because I think God has enough to worry about. More likely, I think I should be able to do it on my own. I come from a long line of independent stock, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I should be able to figure it out. I should be able to make it happen. On my own.

Too often I think I view my journey as something like the TV show, "The Amazing Race." I only have the smallest clues, and I must race to the next spot as quickly as possible. I have to figure it out and get their using my own wits.

Silly me. The reality is that my journey, like all of our journeys, is more of a dance. God wants to dance with us. We still have to take the steps, but God is willing to take the lead, showing us new steps, guiding to unexpected places.

The great outdoors?

The kids seem to be a little bored with our small outdoor play area. I think next week we should either take them to one of the larger areas or create some activities outside rather than assuming they'll be able to figure out what to do with themselves. I don't recall another class having this same boredom outside difficulty, but each class is different and kids get less and less outside time at home each year, so they may just not know what to do with it. We have lots of outside toys, climbers, sand toys, riding toys, slides, and building toys to keep them busy.

Preschool Patti - http://preschoolpatti.blogspot.com/

We belong to nature but have forgotten how to participate; we observe and judge rather than becoming involved.
April Frost
Beyond Obedience

Stumbling onto Preschool Patti's blog, I was saddened to read about kids who don't know what to do with themselves outside. I was the kind of kid who spent untold hours outside - riding my bike, building a fort in the patch of pine trees behind our house (I can still feel the softness of the earth beneath my bare feet, naturally mulched by years of pine needles that drifted down.) My favorite spot in the whole world was in the branches of a cedar tree. I could breathe in the sharp and rich and honeyed smell of the cedar. Leaning back against the smooth trunk, I could draw from its strength.

As a teenager, we often held retreats at a site that was well wooded. By the time Sunday morning came and we were sent out into those woods to have alone time with God, I'd already roamed through them enough to have a favorite place. I had many conversations with God in those woods, many of them very important for the shape of my adult life and work.

What does it mean to raise up a generation of kids who don't know what to do with themselves outside? What does it mean for ourselves when we are disconnected from the world of creation?

We'll explore that more next time.