Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it.—André Gide

Form not Power

(Grandiose and superfluous HT to Blake for this)

When do we have the form without the power of religion?

When we develop church growth strategies that target the middle class instead of the poor and marginalized, then we have the form without the power.

When we spend more of our resources on constructing and maintaining Church buildings and property than we do on feeding the hungry, then we have the form without the power.

When we spend more on pastor’s salaries, benefits, and pensions, than we do on clothing the naked and sheltering the homeless, then we have the form without the power.

When we turn stewardship into financial campaigns for the Church, rather than sacrifice for the poor, then we have the form but not the power.

When we blame poverty on the sloth of the poor rather than the avarice of the prosperous and the indifference of the comfortable, then we have the form but not the power.

When we furnish our sanctuaries and social halls in such a way as to make the prosperous comfortable rather than make the indigent welcome, then we have the form but not the power.

When we dedicate Methodist institutions like universities and hospitals and retirement homes to the needs of the affluent rather than the needs of the impoverished, then we have the form but not the power.

When we preach a grace which saves us without changing us, then we have the form but not the power.

Above all whenever and however we make of Methodism a preferential option for the middle class, we have the form but not the power of religion.

Powerful, this.

I must look over this list and ponder, how often I’ve missed the point, and how in by missing the point I’ve done more damage to the power of ressurection than I’d like to admit.

I think if I could add to this list (and make it somewhat more personal) I’d throw something out there like:

When we blog about the resurrection of mankind, without going out and actively being that resurrection, we have the form but not the power of religion.

What would you add?

Bleh

I don’t think you’re suppose to complain about things like this on your own blog, but I don’t care. I have writers block right now. I’ll get started on a post and then, a few paragraphs in, I’ll lose focus, or forget where I’m going with it.

Kind of sad…

So thats why I’ve been silent over the past few days. I’m working on a prop-8 post and the next tradition post, but it may be a few days before we get anything up.

-

In other news I’m probably going to get to see Pete Rollins when he swings into town this upcoming week. I’m looking forward to that greatly, I might walk away talking in brogue, which would straight up rock.

Oh… and there’s the whole brilliance of the postmodern philosopher that will hopefully rub off. (I’d take the accent if that’s all I could get.)

iPhone post test

I have a problem.

I’m addicted to lattes. I go to starbucks almost every morning, so much so that they know my name.

“Triple venti caramel latte please.”

“Ok Matt, drive around.”

Then onetime I sent someone else to get my latte, they asked her if it was for me and wrote “hey matt!!” on my cup.

I have a problem…

(true story, but I wrote it to test out a mobile publishing app on the iphone)

Tradition Five

Again, before I start, I want to make mention of the usage of assembly in lieu of “church.” Please refer to the previous post for an explanation.

Each group has but one primary purpose—to carry its message to the
alcoholic who still suffers.

One primary purpose… one reason for meeting… to help the alcoholic who still suffers. Does the church exist to help the human who still suffers?

Lets skip over the fact that must assemblies actually cause more suffering to their people then they do good, and look instead at the heart of “church.”

Why do we exist?

When you go to an assembly (of “believers”), normally, it’s to get “fed,” to recieve that spiritual insight that you missed out on yourself. I’m not stating that teaching in assemblies is a bad idea, in fact I quite support it, but often times I wonder if this teaching is the central goal of an assembly. I know that the reformers were large fans of preaching, I believe it was Calvin who said that the church should never assemble without preaching and praying, but should that truly be our central goal.

If we are to, as Andrew said, simply make “Following Christ” our central goal, how would that look when we took on this tradition as our own? Would we state something along the lines of “Each assembly exists for one primary purpose–to carry it’s message to the human who still suffers.” And, if we stated such an ideal, how well would we go about carrying it out?

Would we move from assemblies where we are preached at to assemblies where we actually build caring relationships? Relationships that could then lend a hand to their members when one gets hurt? Relationships that would offer the hope of Christ rather than the condemnation of sin?

Would we learn to better spot suffering, or even, daresay, open our eyes to the suffering closest to us? Would we be willing to part with our money, our time, and perhaps even our safety, to carry the message of hope to those that still suffer?

Tradition Four

Before I begin, I must state I am using the word “assemblies” in lieu of the word “churches.” I feel like we often take our own personal “churches” as a representation of church catholic, often to the detriment of our unity. We must remember that we are part of one body, and the many little bodies that we find ourselves in must not be thought of as the one body. This exercise in not saying “churches” is to help remind ourselves of that fact. When I refer to church, I am referring to the Church catholic, or the unity of all believers.

Each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups
or A.A. as a whole.

What can the Church learn from this “tradition”?

I grew up in a denomination that made it’s assemblies, for the most part, autonomous. Now, I know certain denominations (traditions, groups, whatever) such as Catholics, Anglicans, and Mark Driscoll’s assemblies, are not all that autonomous, but I’m under the impression that most assemblies are fairly (if not wholly) autonomous.

As autonomous organizations, assemblies are able to better “fit” the culture around them. With no earthly headship dictating the ways and means of an assembly, it is up to that assembly itself to decide where and how they can be most effective in carrying out the message of Christ. (Not proselytizing, but representing the hope of the Cross)

This topic is an interesting one to look at if you’re part of the now entirely autonomous “organization” known as emergent. Emergent Village is, essentially, the center of Emergent (US- I would state that it is not the center of Emergent Worldwide). Recently, EV asked the opinion of it’s “members” (for lack of better word… perhaps blog readers is a better phrase) what they would like to see happen with EV over the next few years. The overwhelming response showed a desire to see EV as a networking Hub, and not the headship of this group.

This, at least now within the realm of Emergent (US), leaves us with an model that fits within the intentions of AA’s fourth tradition. This model keeps the idea that our assemblies should remain autonomous, yet we still have a mouthpiece if we need someone to speak on the behalf of the many. The beauty of the group known as Emergent is that we retain our autonomy that has enabled us to fit in the cracks of culture to help wherever and however we are needed.

Thoughts?

Filler

Too tired to do a full post right now, but I wanted to throw this question out into the interwebz and see what comes up.

Has anyone thought about the fact that Satan, the Devil, and the Snake (and Lucifer) do not refer to the same person(s)?

Just something I’ve been running over lately…

Tradition Three

Before we begin, I must say somethign about my absence over the past few days. I work for Chik-fil-a and occassionally travel to help open up new stores around the country. I left Wednesday for Alabama and, when I got here, I discovered that I forgot to pack my charger. I’ve realized over the past few days how much I require a computer to go about my life.

Also, Chick-fil-a makes assigns you a roomate whenever they get you a hotel room. So, when I walked into my room and met my roomate, he held up a newpaper that said “Obama Wins” and says “Sad news man, sad news.” I responded simply, “Only if you’re a McCain fan.” I think he got the point and the topic has not resurfaced.

Now, onto Tradition Three.

The only requirement for A.A. membership is a desire to stop drinking.

In church, we often create requirements to establish membership. Normally, these include things like Baptism, Admission of Faith, and acceptance by the Church body. These things seem superfluous in comparision with “The only requirement for A.A. membership is a desire to stop drinking.”

Now, I realize that church membership is on its way out, and I am completely behind this trend. However, we also tend to tag other un-spoken requirements, such as the lack of social stigmas. We often “require” that individuals believe what we feel they should believe in order to join our fellowships.

What would church look like if the only requirement to join in fellowship with us was a desire to take part in changing the world.

What if you didn’t have to believe the right doctrine?

What if you didn’t have to hide you scars and your pain?

What if you didn’t have to make yourself socially acceptable?

What if?

Would you join that church?

Tradition Two

Two—For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority—a loving God as He may express Himself in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.

From Wikipedia:

A member who accepts a service position or an organizing role is a “trusted servant” with terms rotating and limited, typically lasting three months to two years and determined by group vote. Each group is a self-governing entity with AA World Services acting only in an advisory capacity. AA is served entirely by alcoholics, except for seven “nonalcoholic friends of the fellowship” out of twenty-one members of the AA Board of Trustees.

The idea here is a somewhat decentralized outlook, with the “head” of the organization, in actuality, doing very little to interfere with the meeting to meeting workings of the local groups. This enables the groups to better serve their communities, and greatly increases the effectiveness of the local groups.

Placing this notion within the realm of the church, we find that a few churches do operate outside the purview of a larger organizations. This, as with the local AA group, allows the church to decide how to be of the most benefit to the community.

This would be the most obvious effect of Tradition Two, however, if we look a little deeper we can see one more striking effect that this tradition should have on the “Trusted Servants.”

The reinforcement of the idea that they (Trusted Servants) are not to govern, that is not their task. They are there to insure flow and create “Dialogue” (for lack of a better word, actual response to statements made by attendees from other attendees is discouraged- something that would be beneficial in an ecclesiastical setting).

I think this approach would be of great benefit to the church today. Realize that pastors are but trusted servants, and should not govern.

And this is not part of the traditon per se, but, open the floor up for dialogue. (I think I’ll take a look at this idea after we finish with the AA posts).

The First of Twelve Traditions

I was random link clicking around the blogosphere, and landed on the website of the Young Anabaptist Radicals and a post discussing the twelve traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous.

I have never really looked into alcoholics anonymous, but after a night of research, I am completely enthralled with the organization.

The most enthralling thing, that I discovered, are the 12 traditions. These traditions are the loose guildlines that “govern” the headless organization known as Alcoholics Anonymous. I began to wonder what it would look like if church began to take these traditions for themselves (similarly to how we have adopted many “pagan” rituals into the way the church works).

The first tradition is quite striking “Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends upon A.A. unity.”

Think that one over for a moment.

Personal Recovery depends on A.A. unity.

Equate that over.

Church effectiveness depends on catholic unity. (Please note, little c catholic)

Does this mean that every A.A. member agrees on every issue? No, certainly not. Would unity require us to agree on all issues? Again, No, a resounding No. The most beautiful form of unity is when it crosses the divides we normally find ourselves in.

Saying “I will stand with you, no matter your doctrinal viewpoints, in order to better act as a priest to the world.”

Beautiful.

Unity.

This post brought to you by something other than politics

I’ll admit, there have been several times today when I was quite tempted to renege on the statement that I would not comment on politics until post election (Blake- I will be on the liveblog- no worries there), however, I will keep my word and talk about something else that’s been on my mind of late.

As I mentioned before, I read  “Fidelity of Betrayal” and “How (Not) to Speak of God,” both of which I could not recommend more to everyone willing to take a deep approach to their religion. However, the books have put me in a deconstructionist mood, which brought to the surface a few things that had been brewing for some time.

I think an appropriate subtitle to this post would be “Throwing a match on everything that I’ve been taught to see what can survive.”

Read more

  • About Me

    I'm a twenty something, coffee-drinking, full time, married, amateur theologian, living in the northern burbs of Georgia.