Cathedral Thinking

Posted on July 22, 2012 by raspberryman

Some time has passed, and the people prosper in Jerusalem. There is, in a manner of speaking, a housing boom. Thinking of the fine new buildings that are beginning to go up in his fortress city, King David realizes how different they are from the simple tent in which the Ark — the Holy of Holies — is still enshrined.

Surely the time is nigh to build a house fitting for the glory of the God of Israel. And so David makes plans to build a beautiful, large temple. The prophet, Nathan, even encourages David to do what he has ‘in mind’ (2 Samuel 7:3). Nathan affirms David in having a vision. It’s a good and important thing to do. After all, a people without a vision, perish. Right?

Well, for reasons not clear nor explained in black-and-white, Nathan suddenly changes his advice. David is told that he will not live to see the temple built. But rather David’s son will. The glorious vision will not be his to see through. Something is missing?

At the Synod Assembly of our church a couple of weeks ago, the Principal Dean of Waterloo Lutheran Seminary, David Pfrimmer, shared with all delegates the vision of the seminary. He began his report by saying that when he was interviewed for the job some years ago, the committee had asked him: “Why would you want to be Dean of WLS?” And he responded that he didn’t want to be Dean of the Seminary; what he wanted was to help position the seminary so that it would be a viable, growing, institution of learning for the 21st century.

I’ve taken his statement as instructive for leadership in the church today; that is, to take the long view and ask the questions that will get at what it is we are really about as a congregation, to develop a vision that hopes and reaches toward future realities that we face.

Let me illustrate. David Pfrimmer put on the screen some architectural depictions of two new buildings that will soon comprise the seminary campus, and which will cost some $50 million to build. But he framed the vision not around the buildings themselves, but about why they were building them. This is critical.

For example, one of those buildings will be a large, multi-purpose chapel; why? The seminary expects to be the only post-secondary learning institution in Canada that will provide a program in Sacred Music; therefore, a building to meet that vision. Also, a special dormitory/residential building will house graduate students; but their design and features will meet particular needs of a growing characteristic among graduate students on university campuses today — older, single students from abroad who need facilities that provide more than just a bed, a desk, and a shared washroom/kitchen. They need a design that creates and fosters community; therefore, a building to meet that vision.

You see, it’s not building a structure based on assumptions from the past; it is building structures that meets future needs and emerging realities.

Maybe the Lord had more work to do with David before the temple was ready to be built. Maybe the people still had something to learn about God’s purposes.

The 12th century began a wave of cathedral building throughout Europe. Magnificent large cathedrals were built. These mammoth building projects, without the benefit of modern construction equipment, were a tremendous feat. Cathedral vaults reached heights of 80 to 160 feet. The spires and towers could be twice that height.

Not only did it require vast amounts of material resources; it was a task that would take many years to complete. The average cathedral took 80 years to complete and some took over 200 years of continuous labor. The current St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome required 150 years of work to complete by 1656. More so – the cathedral in Cologne, Germany, with its two great bell towers, each bursting more than 500 feet skyward, required 350 years of work spanning six centuries.

It involved a generational effort. The generation that began the cathedral would not live to see it through to completion. The first generation passed on their building skills and in many instances their tools, to the next generation, which did the same to the third generation, so that there was an unbroken continuity in the construction. The first generation hired the architect, who not only designed the building, but also supervised its initial stages of construction.

How did they do it? How could they generate such enthusiasm and commitment and sacrifice, all for the sake of others who would come after them?

After all, the vision of that first generation would only come into reality long after they were gone. They labored in faith, believing that the “seed” they were sowing would ultimately grow to maturity. They passed on the responsibility of the vision to the next generation. They built into their children a reverence for the task, and a sense of meaning and purpose. They imparted to the younger generation a vision that would govern their lives.

Cathedral thinking is about us getting excited about something now that goes beyond our own personal opinions, desires, and preferences. Cathedral thinking is about setting the stage now for what others besides ourselves may enjoy and benefit from. For the sake of something larger than each of us.

Buildings are only shells. What constitutes the inside neds be established and strong before any shell becomes worthwhile. What’s the pointof having a shell if there’s nothing vital on the inside — a purpose, a vision that drives us?

As a church, as a congregation, we do not exist simply to die; rather we exist to live for a very long time. This is the attitude of hope, not defeat; of vision, not tunnel-vision; of embracing fundamentals not debating secondary issues.

Jesus described his own body as the temple (John 2:19-24)). In our liturgies we pray for the “mystical union” we share with all believers in the Body of Christ. We celebrate that truth in the Holy Communion where we affirm our belonging to the Body of Christ, the church. We also pray that in the eating of the bread in this Holy Meal that, as we go from this place today, we may become “bread for the hungry” in the world. As such, our bodies — our very lives — become “temples of the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 3:16-17; 6:19).

The church is first and foremost people, in relationships characterized by the compassion of Christ. Jesus sets the tone for our ministry and vision-making; he is the perfecter of our faith. The Gospel stories suggest that Jesus’ initial motivation, attitude and stance toward others he meets was often, and simply, compassion. From the reading today: “As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd …” (Mark 6:34)

How does the church practice compassion?

As we worked side-by-side in the lunch club three days this past week in downtown Ottawa (St. Luke’s Anglican Church, Somerset St. West), we met and got to know a few regulars who depend on this vital ministry for their daily nutrition: a young, pregnant, 19-year old woman about whom the staff worry whenever she doesn’t show because of her ocassional plight into addiction; the well-dressed middle-aged man who arrives for the first time at the door to the soup kitchen, and who tells the staff with tears in his eyes that he doesn’t want to be there but that he just lost his job; the volunteer staff person, 85 years old, who celebrates while we’re there, her 21st anniversary of daily coming to help out in that soup kitchen.

These are but a small sampling of people with whom we related and what the confirmation youth from Good Shepherd Barrhaven and Faith Lutheran experienced as the church in mission. I knew what it meant to belong to a church without walls, without borders, in the people-ministry in which we were engaged. The church is people in compassionate mission for others.

We can be assured that the Lord Jesus meets us first with compassion. Not punishment. Not judgment. Not criticism. You’ll notice Jesus is seldom upset with sinners; if anything he is more often upset with those who don’t think they are sinners. Jesus primary stance towards those who are honest with others, is grace and compassion.

And then, Jesus invites us to follow in his way. Our relationship with the Lord then defines our relationship with others. The way God is with us, is the way we are called to be with others.

The big question is: Will we? Should we have the courage to be, then cathedrals of all kinds will be built the world over for centuries to come. Solo Deo Gloria. Amen.

Herbert O’Driscoll “The Word Among Us” Year B Volume 3, p.56-57

A Holy Re-Orientation – Pentecost 2B

Posted on June 11, 2012 by raspberryman

Mark 3:20-35

My experience at Luther Hostel last week reinforced some things that I think many of us who care about the church sense at some level – that something’s wrong with the church, and that something’s going to have to change to turn the ship around!

I don’t need to list all the evidence that is pointing to a diminished institution as we know it. What do we do to prepare ourselves for the changes – even transformation – to which we are heading whether we like or not?

Probably encouragement. Maybe even challenge. But I suspect some comfort as well.

I’m not going to articulate in this sermon what that specific mission will be because quite frankly I don’t know. In this congregation I’m the new kid on the block and I’m still in information-gathering mode. I’m learning about your history and just beginning to get a sense of what makes you tick, what inspires you, what your passions are in all things church-related. And this is where we’re going to have to start in determining what that mission will be.

But I do believe I know how some of that transformation might take place.

Two things happened on the first day of Luther Hostel to me that may illustrate how new life will come to our lives, our community, our church.

Because early on the first day we traveled on a school bus over an hour to the Six Nations reserve in Brantford I held off my first coffee before the trip. I didn’t want to suffer the bouncing need to use a washroom during the drive. Been there, done that. Not again.

But I also (falsely) assumed that upon arriving, there would be coffee somewhere. As it turned out I didn’t have my first coffee of the day until supper time.

The other disorienting experience was I realized I wasn’t going to be doing any driving, not only that day but for the whole week. As one who now averages about 500 kilometers a week behind the wheel, I didn’t know what to do with myself!

Being without those two, simple, routine comforts disoriented me.

But I soon realized that feelings of withdrawal were a precursor for something good, even better. What initially disoriented me prepared me for a holy re-orientation.

I had to let go of something for the sake of what was happening that was more important. The wider truth of my discomfort is to say that ‘life begins at the end of our comfort zone’ (thanks to @soulseedzforall for that pearl!). Life begins at the end of our comfort zones.

On the first day of Luther Hostel a bunch of us mostly white, ethnically northern Europeans visited Mohawk Institute — the first residential school in Canada. We heard about the painful stories of abuse suffered by the aboriginal, First Nations, children at the hand of church and government leaders there. In the sharing and storytelling I was nevertheless encouraged by our meeting with traditional native peoples. Because the circle of this story-telling was expanding.

There was something going on here that was much bigger than me. I couldn’t let my banal neediness sabotage the important things that we needed to learn that day, however difficult. My life was enriched by that learning — no coffee aside. At some point that morning I had to surrender myself to the experience. It was a giving it up — sort of like in Lent, a discipline. And I realized by the end of the day I didn’t really need that morning coffee.

Jesus often does this to get his point across. He ‘breaks things down’ before presenting the new thing. He disorients his listeners in order to REorient them. In so doing he is consistent with the biblical tradition:

The prophet Jeremiah often uses the language of “plucking up” and “breaking down” in his poetry; he refers to the Israelite need of giving up the securities of land and religion to prepare for God’s next great act in their lives: exile – not something, by the way, they at first welcomed.

In Jesus’ day loyalty to family was the backbone of society maybe even more so than today. But I think we can feel the offense in his statement implying that his own family is inferior. Could he even be universally denouncing the traditional, family unit? We could think so, when he asks rhetorically and maybe even facetiously, “Who are my mother and my brothers?”

But for Jesus to describe the new family his kingdom stands for — inclusive of all people including those at the margins — he first needs to shock us out of our assumptions of what family is. He needs to de-construct ‘family’ before rebuilding it.

Not that he is anti-family. But he holds out for what is better in the long run. What will be rebuilt is much better than what has been.

But first we need to let go. And that’s the hard part, to be sure: In our personal lives do we want things to change for the better? In our economy do we wish for better days? In our church do we want to include more young people? In all these and other areas, in our yearning for the new, the better — what first do we need to question, to let go of, to de-construct?

If the prospect of letting go of something or someone precious frightens us to the point of paralysis, take heart people of Faith!

At the point of Jesus’ deepest letting go, at the point of the ultimate ‘break-down’ of his life on the Cross, he demonstrates a profound love for his mother.

Jesus does love his family. From the cross he prays for his Momma, that she be taken care of (John 19:26-27). In his dying breath he prays for her. At the point of God’s very own death Jesus does not forget us. There is indeed nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Saint Paul, Romans 8:38-39).

But Jesus’ vision is greater than us. Jesus’ ‘breaking down’ is for all people. His kingdom includes those whom at first we might consider outsiders, lazy, second class.

The Cross, according to German theologian Jurgen Moltmann, represents a momentary ‘crack’ between the Father and the Son, revealed in Jesus’ cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46) There appeared a break in the Trinity, a crack in the divine relationship, in which Father and Son suffered mutually.

But this crack opened the possibility for the Holy Spirit to enter and bind the Godhead together. So, the triune God experienced a separation of sorts before unity was to be re-established. And God accomplished this reconciliation for the sake of Jesus, and resurrection — new life — for everyone!

At the end of that first day at Luther Hostel, I SO enjoyed my next cup of coffee. And I appreciated the privilege to drive my vehicle. I approached these simple routines with renewed gratitude.

And I look to God’s gracious leading us, in little and maybe big ways, to the end of our comfort zones. To see what happens where life begins anew.

Amen.

House of Pain

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LutherHostel2012 visited the first residential school in Canada – Mohawk Institute – from 1831-1970 situated at Woodland Cultural Centre on Six Nations Reserve in Brantford Ontario. We continue to pray for truth and reconciliation, and courageous leadership among and with First Nations. We confess our sins, and we commit to telling the story for all to know what really happened.

Have a little faith!

Posted on May 7, 2012 by raspberryman

The first thing is not to give up, and keep moving forward, even though it’s tough. When W.H. Murray led the famous Scottish Expedition to climb Mount Everest in the 1950s, he reflected afterward with his oft quoted piece of wisdom: “In the moment a commitment is made, then Providence moves too.” In other words, when you commit to doing something aware of all that is good in you and the world – even if it’s risky, scary – God goes with you and necessary resources are provided.

We don’t do reckless things and twist God’s arm into action; rather, when we are bold it’s like dropping a pebble into the sea of God’s grace: The ripples move outward creating more space for God’s grace to envelope, enfold and hold.

Take the risk. Make the commitment to a discipline of prayer, of study, of holy reading, of loving service – in a way that pushes you a bit out of your comfort zone, your routines, your familiar ways of being and doing: push the envelope. And don’t give up. You may be surprised by what God is doing for you!