Thursday, July 14, 2011

Laughter

Last Saturday I picked up a book at the library, PONTOON by Garrison Keillor. I didn't know why I was drawn to it. I've read a few of his other books and always enjoyed his gift of storytelling. It is one of his Lake Wobegon tales. Slow moving and peopled with quirkiness from that mythical town.

I lit a cigar - about a two hour one - and decided to finish the tale. It had moved slowly, as his stories often do, meandering through people's ordinary lives but it wound down to a hysterical conclusion, an ending I won't attempt to recapture. I laughed as I've not laughed in a very long time; side splitting, tears running down my face laughter.

The laughter cleared the pipes out leaving me at a point of peace. I closed the book, glanced up and saw the full moon reflected in a window on the backside of our home. I got up to watch it complete its rise above our virginia-creeper clothed garden shed.

Bathed in the moonlight, I suddenly knew what a marvelous gift laughter is from Abba's hand. A taste of our God-imageness; something that offers healing for our seemingly endless brokenness.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Corinth #3

WARNING I am going to quote someone here verbatim using a word some might not like, I just thought I'd give you a "heads-up" in case you need it.

Yesterday there was an archery tournament taking place in the park at the archery range some distance across from me. Of course at 5:40am when I arrived perhaps there were only a couple of people there overlooking and keeping guard over the grounds but it was exciting to see the line of official targets, the international flags, portable pavilions and tents all colorfully fluttering in the breeze. Then, as the participants and spectators began to gather, I could feel the anticipation roll in along with each car. It was a nice change to the normally sedate scene I view most mornings. It was a temporary community that gathered.

Today all was back to normal except for the line-up of brown plastic porta-potties; I am sure by the end of today they will also be gone. It was a bit sad. There was something in the air yesterday as the competitive community gathered, a lightness and hope.

Community, in whatever guise, offers an intangible dimension to life. We are social creations bent on establishing community. Whether its a gathering of staid, pious Episcopalians or a raucous, profane and occasionally violent group of Hell's Angels, it is, I believe, the same thing - a group where one belongs with a sense of "fit", a vantage point or boundary that declares "I am in" and conversely "You are not". Even in the park I see fragments of community among the homeless who either camp in the green underbrush or simply pass through.

Several months ago three homeless men gathered around an adjacent picnic table to the one I occupied. It was during the many weeks that the north side of this American-River-straddling park was flooded. Their options of a picnic table were limited, otherwise I doubt they would have gathered so close to me. Their proximity gave me the opportunity to overhear a bit of the conversation between them. At one point one said, "Here, I'm going to put the lighter in the middle of the table so any of us can use it without having to ask for it and all that shit".

The words and the action of giving up control of something precious has stuck with me for several months. I keep wondering if we do the same with Jesus, easily give up control of this precious gift of Light and Life or if we rather try to control by defining theological positions; positions others must hold for us to know if they are "in" or "out". In reading the early chapters of I Corinthians I believe Paul is touching on this in addressing divisions in that community of believers. "My brothers and sisters, some from Chloe’s household have informed me that there are quarrels among you. What I mean is this: One of you says, “I follow Paul”; another, “I follow Apollos”; another, “I follow Cephas”; still another, “I follow Christ.”" (I Cor. 1:11-12). This leads me to the sad commentary that we have not strayed far from divisive attitudes, have not strayed far from drawing theological lines in the sand in our attempt to control.

Paul continued this theme in I Cor. 3: 2-4, "I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans? For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not mere human beings?". It would seem from what he says here that this sort of attitude, "I am of _______, and you are of _______" (you fill in the blanks with your particular persons) is more a sign of immaturity than anything else. The outcome of the theological drawing of lines in the sand all too often becomes a sad and needless division between Christ followers.

I am not saying there shouldn't be clear distinctions. These should center around who Jesus is; incarnate God, the only begotten Son, born of a virgin, died a sacrificial death to reconcile the whole world to God, defeated death by His death and resurrection, ascended in glorious triumph over the prince of darkness and will one day (unknown to all - even Himself) return to rule.

After these foundational truths I'm finding a grace and latitude as I walk and converse with others who hold and practice our mutual faith in Him differently than I do. I've come to a deep, deep trust in the Spirit who moves amongst us to lead me and others into all truth. That is not to say we won't have disagreement, but I would hope that we could conduct ourselves in the midst of those times in a manner that does not diminish or dismiss or exclude; the attitude of "I am of Apollos, I am of Peter, I am of Paul" that so often divides.

I no longer believe I have to control the Light and LIfe offered by Jesus. The community built on grace, a community of colorful flags and tents and pavilions fluttering in the breeze of the Spirit, is not about control.