HOOCH FOR A PARTY? "SAY IT AIN'T SO!"

I used to wonder about the wedding at Cana. We're told that that was Jesus' very first miracle. From my trips to India, I've come to realize that in some cultures, when there is to be a wedding, it's a very big deal. I mean, like, whoever you may know - may have had contact with - ever...well...it's an offense of you don't invite them. I suspect that's the way it was even back in Jesus day. The father of the bride was throwing a really bi---gg blast for his daughter.

Now I have to tread carefully here, but acknowledging that there are those who are shocked to discover that Jesus actually drank real wine (inhale! gasp!"No...really??? Yes, really. "Not just grape juice?" Get a life!

Anyway, Jesus and his disciples were invited to the reception, and as you all know, at a certain point Jesus' mom leans over and whispers in his ear, "They've run out of wine." To which, Jesus replies, essentially, "Oh, so what?" Well, I gather that Mary knew he got her point, and she simply caught one of the stewards' attention, and told him to "do whatever he says."

So there are these big crocks over in a corner. They were used during Jewish holy days. They would fill them with water, and then the Rabbi would say a blessing over the water to consecrate it, so that the people could wash all their pots and pans in the holy water, which would make them holy, and therefore the food they cooked would also be holy, and nobody would be defiled by eating defiled food. But this wasn't one of those holy days, so the pots were over there in the corner, empty. The text tells us that there were six of these big crocks, that held about thirty gallons each. Six times thirty...that's 180 gallons as I count it. And Jesus tells the steward to fill them to the brim. Right! "Yes, sir, you got it."

So the stewards fill the pots. Jesus tells them to draw some out and take it to the head waiter, in the process of which they discover that this water has turned into wine; not just any wine, but the finest kind. 180 gallons. That's some party!

So, what's the deal? What's going on here? Is Jesus' first miracle merely a frivolous demonstration of supernatural power for the sake of a party? I don't think so. Notice a few important points: First, those pots were only used to hold consecrated water that was thought to cleanse defilement from normal, day to day use in a secular manner. Second, in fact, that water never cleansed anything from spiritual defilement, whether pots or the people who used those pots. By turning that regular old normal water into the very highest grade wine, Jesus was creating a picture. Much later in His ministry, about the time of Passover, which comes around the time we celebrate as Easter week, Jesus would be eating a meal with his disciples, and he would take a cup of wine, and tell them, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood..."

By turning that water that was powerless to accomplish any sort of spiritual cleansing, into wine, symbolizing His blood. Jesus was pointing to the events that would come at the most crucial point near the end of his ministry. He was pointing us to the only thing that can, or ever could, actually cleanse from the defilement of the P/S+D (power of sin and death; namely, His shed blood on the cross freely given for "as many as would receive Him," to whom He "gave the right to become children of God..."

Far from being a frivolous act, Jesus was painting a picture of why He came, and what He came to do. Of course no one at the time had a clue what it was all about. All they knew was they now had some really good wine to drink at that wedding. Unfortunately, there aren't too many people who get it, even now. So many would be interested in the wine, but don't have any interest in its message. How many miracles does it take before a person hears the voice of God calling them to partake of the real thing.

Blessings.

THOUGHTS ON GENERIC CHRISTIANITY AND NEWGENESIS

Given the shifting sands of spirituality, or lack thereof, in recent decades, and the decline of the church as we have known it in modern life, and in all its variety of specific forms and manifestations, there is a desperate scramble among churches to find means of self-preservation. I suspect some might object to that last term (self-preservation). Yes, I have no doubts that some Christian leaders (myself included) are willing to concede that God can do what He wants, since He, after all, is in control, even in the demise of local bodies of believers. But the concern for self-preservation is a reality nevertheless, even if we have no idea what shape that may take, or what changes it might demand. To find new ways that are genuinely useful, and at the same time are faithful to the Word, the Will, and the Ways of God, is the only way to rebuild a crumbling edifice. As Paul said, “There is no other foundation than the one that is laid, which is the Lord Jesus Christ."

It seems to me that NEWGENESIS is one such instrument for rebuilding; it is a NEW BEGINNING/BIRTH, but the shaping of that rebuilding has to be God’s doing. “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain that build it.” At the same time as Christians we understand that God does what he does, most of the time, only as we put ourselves in the place where He can do it (whatever it may be) through us.

The goal is definitely not to make a new church, or a new denomination, or even a new “movement.” Rather, it seems to me, the goal is to “present our bodies as living sacrifices,” and to “follow” Jesus, and to “know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent.” God, after all, has an agenda for us, one which takes precedence over anything else we might do by way of works. It is to “be conformed (and therefore changed) to the image of His Son.” Have we understood that statement too superficially?

But HOW is NEWGENESIS to be an instrument for rebuilding? And let’s be careful with that word, rebuilding. What is it that we are to build upon the foundation which is laid? More of the same old, same old? What is the same old, same old? Is it a repeat of what we have been doing right up till now, only with fresh paint? Could Jesus work without pews, and stained glass, or “The Gloria Patri”? Is the new music any different than the old music, except with drums and guitars, and different words (and maybe less doctrinal hymns)? Could Jesus work without the buildings we’ve gotten used to? Could the Holy Spirit lead some one way, and others another way, and yet keep them in harmony and unity? That hasn’t exactly been the case all along. The part about different directions has been the case (thought it remains to be seen if it was the Holy Spirit’s doing or not). The part about harmony and unity is another story. Maybe we don’t have the faintest idea what Jesus will do. And we have all these stereotypes that we will no doubt find hard to let go. We find it particularly hard to not be in control – which may be why we aren’t coming up with the next “program.”

Right off the top of my head, It seems that NEWGENESIS is potentially, and perhaps temporarily, an online gathering place for discussing, discovering, and sharing the spiritual journey – not only for persons who don’t like church, but for whoever wants to enter the conversations. Of course it would not be much fun, if some theological know-it-alls barged in to make sure everybody “gets it right.” There are ways to deal with those who try to hijack things.

I recall some time ago my son and I had a conversation along the lines of how, during the middle ages, the church was, in essence, the equivalent of the welfare system of the day. It took needy people in, and in turn they contributed to the agricultural labor pool, or equivalent. My lament was that in our day we could hardly do that without OSHA and a billion other bureaucrats shutting it down. More later.

MUSIC AND ART: THE PATHOS OF OUR FALLENNESS

As I'm sitting here, I'm listening to an orchestral piece on the radio, and am reminded of how much music has affected my life. The piece was "A Hero's Life" by Richard Strauss. I had not heard it before, but what struck me was how strongly so much of the music that has been composed over the centuries, seems to reflect the pathos of a humanity that lives in the power of death that so dominates this world. Not that this piece was special in this regard; certainly I have heard that same pathos...like the cry of darkness crying for light, or of emptiness agonizing for meaning. So often, there is such deep sadness that emanates from the music. I find myself weeping often when I hear really powerful music, though not always as an outgrowth of that pathos; sometimes it is a tremendous feeling of beauty, or of a profound feeling of  something undefinably moving, as if it were a messaage from another dimension. Perhaps I should just mention a few pieces that have struck this chord of pathos. I'm not trying to persuade you, just share. Off the top of my head, I first got this sense of pathos in music when listening to Sibelius' symphony #5, many years ago. It made me feel like I had accidentally broken into an infinite celestial song that had no beginning and no end, and what was encapsulated in this symphony was just a little snippet that somehow had been cut out of the whole, which explained to me why the piece itself seemed to not have a starting place or an ending place - that the start and end of the symphony was merely random.  Next, I think some of  Samuel Barber's work speaks in the way I've been talking about here, Mahler, Bartok, Berg, others...I can't seem to tug them out of my subconscious at the moment...Oh, yes, another: Lucas Foss. I remember a piece I heard a long time ago, and never since, entitled, "A Parable of Death." That, too, spoke to me of this deep pathos; the sense of near despair that emanates from lots of music. But I think it is the human way of expressing something that is perhaps too painful to confront directly, or perhaps even more appropriately, something human beings don't want to confront because we instinctively know  is a confrontation with our own hearts...hearts that run away from God

But that also reminds me of a potter/artist friend I had back when I was a practicing artist (pottery, painting, sculpture), and was teaching it at an art school. This friend began to make clay masks, and I recall seeing a picture of one in particular - the minute I saw it I had that same feeling that here was an expression of humanity trying to break free of it's bondage to the P/S+D (power of sin and death). Years later, that picture jolted my memory when I saw Han Solo encased or frozen in some kind of death wrap, in one of the Star Wars movies. The visual arts are perhaps a bit more able to make clear statements about this profound pathos; as in, for instance, Edvard Munch's "The Scream."



I regret that the arts no longer seem to find a place in Christian life. There are some fine Christian artists around. I like the wood engravings of Jim Dignon,who made a neat book of plates illustrating the Gospel of Mark. Each page contained a wood engraving illustrating the particular text. I'm particularly fond of one double page plate from the book he gave my family one time when I took our then, young children to his studio. It's framed and hanging on my living room wall, and I've often thought about how neat it would be to have a complete set of the plates with their text, framed, and hanging around the perimeter of the sanctuary where I am pastor. But I don't know if Jim is even still working. He loves the Lord.

Maybe I should stick a painting in here entitled, "My Father's Woods"

Another painting, by Paul Gauguin, makes a pretty direct statement by a man who was looking for answers, but unfortunately didn't find them. His painting, entitled, "Whence? What? Wither?" puts the existential dilemma pretty boldly. From whence do we come? What are we? Wither do we go? In the painting there are several young girls; one is reaching to pick fruit from a tree. In the background is an older woman working - preparing food. In the center of the picture is a silvery grey idol that clearly was made of lifeless, powerless stone.

In the lower left corner, a dark grey brown haggard woman is seated on the ground: arms drawing her knees up against her body. Next to her a bird is waiting, like a bird of prey, for death to make its claim to her eternity.
Those three questions plague the heart because they are expressions of Pascal's "wretchedness." And the artist, after living a dissipate life can only wait in his uncertainty. It's the condition of so many, many people today. They comfort themselves with a false assurance they have made up out of their own mind, that when you die it's all over, and life was a cruel hoax. Jesus gives us a different answer, and it isn't one of those "I-hope-so-isms.." Still another example of this atmosphere of pathos and sense of despair and aloneness I have noticed in the work of a rather famous artist, who just happened to be the art teacher in the high school I attended. It as he who motivated me to attend the Boston Museum School of Art after graduation. Now in his nineties he paints faceless women, dressed in identical long white, or more often black dresses, often with their backs to the painting's audience, staring longingly out through tall, narrow, black tree trunks, at an ocean that makes no waves. They seem to be waiting, as if expecting someone to come, yet, somehow, almost resigned that they will not - fishermen, husbands, the future, but with uncertainty and a sense of foreboding. It is not just one woman; nor is it just one painting, but an ongoing series that seems to be penetratingly spiritual. Even in those paintings where there are lots of these women, there is no connection between them, each one is so terribly alone, staring out at nothing.  More later. (For more on the spirituality of pottery click on the "More on Pottery..." page on the sidebar )

MORE ON MUSIC AND ART: THE PATHOS OF OUR FALLENNESS

I was driving up to Manchester the other morning. I was listening to my local classical music station, as usual. The program was exploring Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings." You might recall that I referred to Barber, and some others in the earlier MUSIC AND ART posting. A gentleman named Thomas Larson, it appears, has recently written a book which, interestingly enough bears the title, "The Saddest Music Ever Written." Just hearing the title, sent something stirring my soul. Now, several days later, I'm reminded of something C.S. Lewis said: "We read in order to know we're not alone." It was a revelation. I had begun to wonder if I was the only one in the world in whom certain pieces of music have the ability to cause choking up, weeping, tears. That's the way it has happened to me. I'm not always sure what it is about the music that does it, but sometimes I have identified profound joy, or a soul gripping beauty, but also a heart penetrating pathos. I don't mean music with words for the most part, although there are some operatic arias that have a similar power, "La Boheme," comes to mind, and sometmes Pavaroti had that effect. Between his remarks about the depression that filled the life of Samuel Barber, and his constant melancholia, the interviewer played portions of "Adagio..." It is, for all of its "sadness," one of my favorite pieces, as, apparently it is for many. Interestingly, Larson says it has been the music of choice in the funerals of several major figures on the world stage, including a couple of American presidents. It has a profound, even awesome beauty that penetrates deep into (at least) my heart. As I often do with music I'm listening to, I started to hum along with the strings...but found I could not. Instantly, I choked up, and the tears began to fill my eyes, but in this case I could discern that the tears were a response to the "Adagio..." It has an amazing capacity to communicate the pathos, the "sadness" Larson speaks of. I spoke about this pathos in the earlier blog, and I realized, deep inside, that the music is, even if unrecognized by its composer (though Thomas Lawson seems to have realized it - consciously or unconsciously)- the music seems to express an agonizing lament, as if the music itself was communicating the utter despair of the world weeping for itself: "Rachel weeping for her children because they were no more," and the world (at least those in it who have ever heard the piece) knows it, because it reveals itself, not to the superficial level of hearing, but to the understanding depths of the heart. The piece reflects all the tears that are shed because of the darkness, and the terrible aloneness that so many of the living feel. Yet how many would listen to this cry of grief without hearing it? I recall the shortest verse in the Bible: "Jesus wept." What for? Certainly it was not because of Lazarus' death, for in a few seconds He was going to raise him from the dead. Rather, Jesus wept because of the very existence within the creation, and especially within mankind, of the power of sin and death that dominates every soul as it comes into the world: every life, every human thought, word and deed, a poison that spreads itself like a plague. It is because of this profound pathos that you and I have been called by God to be the salt (preservative), and light (bearer of truth that sets free) - because God's very purpose is to restore the image of God - the power of love, which is the antidote - the only antidote that can provide the healing balm that overcomes the awful aloneness that the power of death, in the hand of the enemy of our souls, seeks to spread abroad in God's creation; "The thief comes only to steal, to kill and to destroy, but I have come that they might have life, and have it more abundantly."

Some people don't like to talk about negative things, such as the pathos of the world and the power of sin and death. I'm inclined to think we don't talk about it, or even think about it enough. It should be obvious (but I'm afraid it isn't) that without the first six, and especially first four chapters of the Bible (the "bad news"), the entire rest of the Bible (the good news), would make no sense. Human fallenness would be regarded simply as the way things are, the normal state of this world. There would be no answer to why Jesus should come, live, die on the cross, be resurrected, and all the rest. It would be an "every man for himself" world. The world would be what "Adagio..." reflects in terms of the pain and suffering and isolation of humanity from itself, much less from God. Listen to Samuel Barber's "Adagio for Strings." Listen for the revelation of the human soul's condition.

Posted by DJinno at 10:53 PM 0 comments

THE COMMUNICATION EQUATION

One big question is how we are to define Generic Christianity. I suspect that a synonym might be "authentic Christianity, but I also suspect that doesn't help us much. Perhaps the question should be stated more like: How do we figure out just what generic Christianity is. One thing that comes to mind is (don't jump down my throat here): I think the postmodernists have a point when they suggest that human communication is essentially on a par with language at the time of Babel; i.e., understanding each other is pretty difficult because we all come with our own dictionaries, as it were. Nearly every word we store in memory comes with baggage: experiences that shape not just the Webster definition, but our interpretation of those words. For instance, take the word "father." My definition and interpretation of that word is shaped by whether my father was a good, kind, loving father, or a brutal, drunken, abusive father; not to mention other fathers I may have observed in my life. There also judgments I make about the value of that relationship. Consider the person who might be inclined to say, "If God is anything like my father, I don't need Him."

Think about the process of communicating: first there is a gut feeling  that rises inside of me to the point of my being conscious of it. then I have to translate the general sense or feeling I have into words out of the combination of standard dictionary (Webster) and my own personal dictionary, and I have to put them together in a way that makes sense, and if I can get that far (have you ever heard someone say, "I know what I mean, I just can't put it into words.), the next step is to speak them out into the air where they fly off in your direction, hopefully to land in your ears (are you listening?). From there they have to push their way through the grid of your dictionary, which may be significantly different from mine, especially with respect to specific words (like "father"). You, then, have to dissect that incoming sentence, in order to decipher its meaning, parts of which may get lost in translation, or may be misinterpreted, possibly because of the nuances of inflection which can introduce negative or positive revisions of what you have received. Surely it is by God's grace alone that we are able to overcome any of the P/S+D and begin to really touch each others' hearts and minds in such a way as to balance this communication equation; so that what was sent on one side of the equation resembles anything close to what was received on the other side of it.

OK, so back to the original question: how are we to define Generic Christianity, to which I will now add the word "together." How shall we go about, cooperatively, defining Generic Christianity? Doesn't the above tell us - compel us - to approach the whole process cooperatively - never competitively, with the grace of kindness and thankfulness for each others' input. This, it seems to me can only happen if we begin by acknowledging that, in spite of hundreds of years of dogma and doctrine, none of us has all the answers. The baggage of history on that score is fraught with the horrors of the Inquisition, and killing off one another, over presuppositions - presupposing that we've got it, and "they" don't. If we have an open market of ideas, then it would seem that we should "presuppose," that we can all add insight to the whole, without claiming that our insight is immune to any sort of revision should God choose to open up areas of His plan and purpose that we haven't yet seen. It rubs against our P/S+D nature to want to be in control, which often means we have this urge to claim the final word on some subject. Seems to me the only one with the final word is the One who gave the word in the first place (In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God..." (John 1)
Oh, and by the way...what do YOU think?
More later.

THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING TO GIVE RATIONAL ANSWERS TO SPIRITUAL QUESTIONS

Here's a little exercise I give to students:  Suppose you are on board a boat when a terrific storm comes up. The boat takes on water, and the small life boat breaks up as the waves beat it against the side of the boat. The Skipper says the boat is about to sink. He says there's an island nearby. Everyone will have to swim for it. Being a Christian, you instinctively grab your Bible, rush out on deck, and jump overboard. The impact of jumping into the water causes you to lose your grip on the Bible. When you get to the island, exhausted, cold, you discover a few soggy, crumpled pages from the Bible. Given that the Bible has always been important in your life, what biblical texts would you wish were left on those few pages?

The answers I get to that question are all over the board: Psalms, one or another of the Gospels, favorite books, like Esther, Ruth, etc.
Then I tell them my answer: Genesis chapters 1-6. Why did I make that choice?  What would your choice be?

I pick those early pages because without them the whole rest of the Bible would make no sense. There would be no answer to the question: Why did Jesus have to come, die on the cross, rise from the dead, and return to heaven.

Take for instance, Genesis one. If you ask most people - both non-Christians (if they have any knowledge of Genesis 1 at all), and  Christians, (who do supposedly know what's in Genesis 1), the answer that is almost universally given is that Genesis 1 is about how God created everything. Many times Christians will be confronted rather condescendingly, or with the presumption that anyone who believed such stuff must be nuts. "You don't really believe this is how the universe came to be, do you? But is Genesis 1 really about how God did it?  I wonder if there isn't something far more important to be found in those creation verses.

Suppose we were to see Genesis 1, as God introducing Himself to us - establishing a primary relationship, because He is a Being-for-relationship (1 John 4:8, 16, etc.), and because He loves us; and, "Oh, yes, by the way, here are a few things you should know about Me - I am this kind of Being: I just will something to be, and speak it into existence. I am that kind of super-natural Being; I have no beginning and no end. I am eternal, sovereign, infinite, omniscient, omnipresent, and a whole bunch of other things I'll let you know about as we get to know each other. " "This is eternal life, to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent." (John 17:3)

What happens so often, when this kind of contention arises is that Christians immediately fall into the trap of attempting to answer questions of a spiritual nature by rational means. That's a bit like attempting to solve an algebraic problem by making a cup of tea. Leaving the spiritual dimension out of our thought systems is like playing poker with only two thirds of a deck. Those first few chapters of Genesis confront us with what Pascal referred to as our human "wretchedness,"...the pervasive unhappiness that characterizes most of the human race, and is the root of man's inhumanity to man (P/S+D)
More later...

What NEWGENESIS is all about...I think...

So what's NEWGENESIS all about? Particularly that bit about "com-unity. To begin with, it's about how to find the "real thing" in the hodgepodge we call Christianity...and church...and how to live it out in a way that really makes sense, so much so that, once the "coversation" gets going, it will generate a hunger and thirst for the completion of the restoration of the Image of God in each of us - as we touch each other's lives in love. That's sort of the "what," but of course it has to go beyond that. It has to lead to the "how," (which is the hard part).

If you've ever been to India, no doubt you've seen the mess of  "spaghetti," that is the power grid: you look up at the top of any electrical pole, and it's nothing but a huge birds nest made of 240v wires. What really astounds me is that some people climb up those poles with a couple of wires they've stripped the ends from, and bent into hooks, then very carefully lay the ends across other bare wires, climb back down to wherever they want to use it...most of the time they manage to avoid getting fried by touching some stray part of that tangle. And, of course, nobody pays the electric bill.

I see that as an analogy of the condition of Christianity today, though I should add, pretty much ever since the legitimizing of Christianity by Constantine, but not least by way of the Reformation. I tell students in India about "Hodgepodgeism" (it communicates so much better than "syncretism"),  I recall hearing (in my pre-Christian days), some of my zealous relatives speaking in horror about how the antichrist was going to come and create a single, world-wide church. I wonder if they ever read John 17, or if they did, how they rationalized, "...that they may all be one, even as You, Father are in Me, and I in You, that they may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me." Hmmm...

But of course there is this problem, known as "the power of sin and death." (P/S+D), a.k.a. our "fallenness," by which we seem to screw up everything, not realizing that the power of death is at work in the tiniest of misunderstandings, to the worst of humanity's inhumanities. None of us escapes it. It is built in. It takes the place of God's original design of human beings: love - His image. We don't get it. Until we learn to love as Jesus loved, it ain't gonna change.

OK there's something else that's in this thing I've been thinking about called, "NEWGENESIS-A-GENERIC-CHRISTIAN-COM-UNITY.  I've have a feeling that non-generic Christianity - short for denominational Christianity - is on its way out. At first I thought of it in practical terms. Think about it: most denominational churches are spread here, there, and not everywhere. And many denominations are tied to a central authority that has little real contact with the individual churches. They often set the agendas for their satellite churches without a clue as to the nature, or needs, either of the local population or of the flocks that make up the congregations. Many times they hardly know the pastors who are struggling to meet all of the demands upon them. Bureaucracy undermines the best of visions.

How much better where the pastors in a local area, all laboring for the Lord, get together - regardless of their denominational ties, to pray for one another, encourage one another, and especially strategize together how they can cooperatively discern the nature and needs of the local population, and are able to support one another, encourage one another, and use their respective gifts and abilities together to demonstrate to people who do not know what Christianity is really about, the hope and help that is available in the context of a community of faith where each one is in the process of being transformed into the image (likeness) of Christ - learning to love as He loved. A community of local pastors who can function cooperatively instead of competitively and without all the guardedness that generates paranoia (he might steal my sheep), jealousy (how come he has such a big church, and I don't), can create a powerful demonstration of the reality of God.

Thus, the whole problem is inside. As the late Mr. Pogo Possum said, "We have met the enemy, and he is us." Why is it we who carry the name of Christ (Christian), don't get it. Has anybody noticed the equation between "the image of God," (the original design), and Romans 8:29, where it says God's goal for us is "transformation (back) into the likeness (image) of His Son. Didn't He say, "If you have seen Me, you have seen the Father?"

Of course, I'll be the first to put my foot in my (James 1:25) mouth. My doing leaves much to be desired. And I know: talk is cheap. 
More later...