For the good of the church

Once upon a time, in another land, I was active in a congregation that was full of light. The men, the women, even the children tried to live in harmony with the teachings of Jesus, and with each other. If you put on a program at that church, you could be assured that some people would show up. The music was wonderful, the campus large, the staff and lay leaders truly devoted to making the congregation into a a beacon for the Gospel.

Once upon a time, in that land, I worked in a church that was all too open to darkness. Perilously often, the leaders forgot that they were supposed to be merciful as well as judgmental, loving and inviting as well as critical. They drew the drawbridge up, proclaiming themselves the only keepers of the light. Many came, attracted by the idea of being part of a chosen community. Some left quietly, put off by the aura of arrogance, or wounded by the very human misdeeds of unaccountable leadership. Generation after generation kept secrets, thinking that they were doing it for the good of the church, but making it more comfortable for bad things to be done in darkness.

Of course, I am describing one and the same church. Perhaps I am describing most churches.

It is a congregation with a great capacity for doing good, but a frightening capacity for doing harm. It is also a church where some of the leadership has been put in the unfortunate position of baptisizing behavior that they had qualms about-"for the good of the church." Lots of nasty things are done "for the church of the church"-that does not make them anymore excusable.

I am rather quick to be critical of what I feel is a lack of personal integrity on the part of men and women who had the opportunity to stand up to leadership and instead pretended they were powerless.

After all, Jesus showed us a different sort of power-strength in weakness, power in humility.

Yet I wonder how I would behave, were I in such a position of leadership. Perhaps I would not do much better than they did.

Seeing the damage happen once again with the blessing of a little distance, I have to wonder: how hard is it to stand up for what you believe is right? How costly is it to deal with the consequences? Is courage a matter of grace or genes or maybe some of both? Or are there only certain men and women who know the consequences...and defend the weak and powerless anyway?

Later rather than sooner

We're going interactive!

Well, we thought we were. My intention is to start posting some of the essayettes on this blog (the ones I think are half-way decent) as audio files as well as text files. I've joined a audio file sharing company which is supposed to post my files to the blog. Because I'm mildly technologically challenged, I haven't quite gotten them to upload my posts to this blog...nor do I have any idea as to whether there is an audience who wishes to hear them. But, as in many things in life, I leave that choice to you. Reading me might be more than enough, or maybe even too much sometimes...have a cup of tea, and go back to that novel!

By the way, I think that was a very cheap shot Fox News took at Anderson Cooper...or was it Paris Hilton they were trying to offend? What's wrong with SNAG'S (Sensitive New Age Guys)?After broadcasting false accusations about Senator Barack Obama having gone to an Islamic madrassa, Fox might want to look at some of its own reporters-and think about adding Ms. Hilton to its news staff.

One smart Republican

Driving back from the gym tonight I heard the end of a conversation that Terry Gross, host of the NPR program "Fresh Air", was having with Senator John Kyl. Sometimes lost in the shadow of the 'other' Senator from Arizona, John McCain, Kyl just happens to be his parties' third in command. Two barometers of how reliably conservative Kyl is: he is to the right of President Bush on immigration and he has come out (as it were) against gay marriage. Given the amount of unctuous baloney that passes for political conversation in D.C., Kyl sounded candid, straightforward, and intelligent. Gross, who has proved over and over again what a good interviewer she is, had a couple of misses today. Questioning Kyl about dissonance between his opinion on gay marriage and the fact that VP Dick Cheney's daughter is a partnered, pregnant lesbian is a major stretch, in my opinion. Kyl's not married to Dick Cheney, he just happens to share a party affiliation with him-and if Cheney refuses to answer questions about Mary Cheney, why the heck should Jon Kyl? In addition, Mary Cheney makes an odd subject for a symbol of discrimination-nor is there much indication that she wants to be the subject of a crusade. Although gay marriage may be a cause celebre among the chattering classes,left and right, it doesn't seem to arouse simmering passions among moderates. There is growing support for legal rights for partners, but no great public outcry for gay marriage-which suggests, agree or not, that Americans draw a distinction between cohabitation and marriage. Gross's other mistake was most unlike her, but it was also unintentionally funny-she asked Kyl about his father, the Congressman. Gross thought that he was still alive, and serving in Congress. Congressman Kyl, who died several years ago, left Congress decades ago. What most impressed me about the present Kyl was his willingness to take a hard look at why the Republicans lost-and why, from his viewpoint, they deserved to lose. His reasons, while apt, are do not tell the whole story. But his capacity for self criticism, particularly while serving as a mouthpiece for the minority, is relatively rare. Although Kyl will not openly blame the mendacity and arrogance of this Administration for the Democratic triumph in both Houses of Congress, he must quietly reflect on what it would have been like to have a conservative President who knew how to work with his party, and not against it.

Follow up to last night's post-call me naive

I met a two of my journalist friends for lunch today. Over sandwiches and soup in a Puerto Rican luncheonette we talked about careers, our families and the politics of reporting. One of us commented that the "kicker quote" at the end of a piece can tell the reader how the writer really feels about a particular issue. I'm not sure that even the most able journalist can write about issues he or she carers about in an objective manner. We talked about the value of moving from covering controversial issues in a way that polarizes to covering them from an individual, human perspective (what if newspapers reported on abortion or the war in Iraq that way?) I regaled them with some of my dating adventures (and misadventures)-their tolerant incredulity at my ignorance was humbling, to say the least. It felt like a tough love session with a couple of big brothers. I realized that, as I said last night, I had spent many years in a virtual cocoon-and was blithely oblivious to signs of trouble that most other people might have picked up on. Although he agreed with me that I was naive, one of them said that my desire to see the inner light in everyone I met was one of my endearing qualities. I hope so-because I don't seem to be able to shake it.

Love and change and things we can't untie

This evening the kids and I watched the film version of the A.M. Montgomery classic "Anne of Green Gables." Last week Sian and I saw the play- she was highly surprised to find that she liked it. So much of Anne's character, as revealed in novel and onscreen, reminds me of Sian-my daughter, like Anne, is highly verbal, imaginative, and prone to dramatize herself and her dilemmas in vivid, sometimes overblown language.

At one point in the movie we watched tonight (after our little drama in which Colin inadvertently hit Sian on the head with a pool cue) Anne, about to leave Green Gables to study to be a teacher, reassures Marilla that wherever she is, and whatever happens, she will always be Anne from Green Gables.

Sometimes I wonder... if someone from my past read my blog (as I know they do regularly) or engaged me in theological conversation, if they would still recognize me "Elizabeth of the Episcopal Church."

Looking back now, it seems that for years I was a member of a Christian subculture. Oh, I was a critical one-my acts of rebellion didn't endear me to the hierarchy.

But even at the time, I realized that I really knew very few people who were not Christian. This felt like a failing. It was part of what drove me, in an intellectual sense, to explore the culture of the "emergent church"-the reform movement that aims to help encourage worshipping communities that are less denominational and institutional and more concerned with integrity and vulnerability to the unchurched.

In some small way, my current congregation, St. Matthews, is part of the 'emergent' community . While many members are ex-Roman Catholics, others had no previous religious faith. There is little sense of hieararchy-both pastors act more as facilitators than as parents. Come up with a good idea and it is likely to receive a hearing from Chad or Tina.

My journey to St. Matthews has also been formed by my experience of disappointment with the Episcopal Church, and by my personal sense of betrayal and failure. Almost five years ago I went through an experience that, in retrospect, changed the trajectory of my career, perhaps indelibly. Since that time I have been gradually less and less involved in church circles, with little real desire to return to a prominent position in one. As a result, I am more engaged with people who are not Christian and much more open to hearing their stories.

I am still an openly believing Christian. I still wrestle daily with the paradoxes of being faithful in an American culture that gives lip service to the values of the Gospel. That being said, I find that, at the moment, the narratives I want to hear are those of the men and women who haven't been affected by the New Testament story-who don't find belief important or credible.

At the same time, I miss the discipline of being part of an organic Christian community. I miss the energy and vision and buzz of dedicated people who take their faith seriously. Do I wish that serious Christianity didn't often have that tinge of right wing paranoia and self-righteousness? Heck yes.

And I suspect that many non-believers (many of whom were raised as Christians) are probably also intolerant of what they see as an anti-intellectual movement (in an individualist culture, we fear "movements") on a moral bender. It may be ingrained in us to hang on to our stereotypes, simply because it limits our relationships in a complex world. We all seem to gravitate to subcultures of one type or another.

But I am coming to see, slowly, that to blame the church for being as sin sick as society is to miss the basic idea-it is both into church and culture that Jesus comes-not because He feels more at home in our churches, but because He sees church and culture as equally, and dangerously, ill and in need of redemption.

Monkeys, not dinosaurs

It is a truism that as we get older our opinions harden and we lose the ability to look at different points of view as flexibly as we used to when we were younger and not as set in our ways. It is a truism, but I'm not entirely sure it is true. Perhaps it was so in former generations-but even folks like me, in their forties and fifties, seem to be asking more questions-not only about the world, but about their marriages, their spirituality and their relationships with their children. A lot of the societal structures that rooted previous generations have lost their authority or are being strongly challenged.

There are many indicators that we have evolved into a society in which staying flexible and asking questions is a matter of sheer survival. Personal technologies are changing so fast that if we don't keep up with our kids, we get left way behind. As a middle-class professional, you don't stay, by and large, where your family lives, but move along with your job. American men and women don't feel "less than", for the most part, if they are not or have never been married. They have little respect for politicians in general-though they may like their own representative or senator. In part because of denominational scandals and in part because we are a culture in which individualism is almost idolized, it seems that America is moving into a post-denominational era in which Christians, at least will freely move between churches. As more citizens stay healthy and live longer, they are simply going to have more decisions to make-where to live, where to work, what golf course to favor (grin).

Instability isn't always a bad thing. It can create anxiety. But sometimes it also forces us to stay limber, hungry, ready to engage the big questions of life-the ones that inspire and excite and challenge us to move forward with passion, not zeal.

PS: Try a little tenderness

Colin has a very tender, sensitive way about him-quick to hug, quick to say how he feels, arms wide open to the world's pain and its loveliness. I wonder why we start to lose that as we get older.

I wonder if we really need to let it get scabbed over when we are betrayed or betray, when we walk away or when someone else walks away from us-isn't there a way in which we can stay awake so that we feel it when somebody touches us?

I am particularly alert on this score right now, having had my jaded old spirit brushed by one so unalike and so kindred, someone I never would have chosen as a pal in a million years, and then watching helpless and stunned as he shed the gossamer bonds of friendship to be free of me and the poor gifts I could bring him-loyalty and acceptance and...tenderness.

I wonder why it was so easy for him to walk away-or whether he ever wonders what it would have been like to have stayed.