Things you'll never say

I sometimes run a little thought experiment with myself. It goes like this:

You get to the Pearly Gates of heaven and St. Peter gives you a chance to look back over your life. He encourages you to particularly note those things you are glad you did, as well as the things you wish you hadn't done. And this exercise is not so much about the single events in your life so much as the patterns of your life. He wants you to think about how you devoted the hours of your life to habits and activities, day in and day out.

Asking myself that was one of the reasons I decided to stop watching television earlier this year. As I wrote in a previous post, my wife and I have given up TV. Not that television is inherently bad, mind you. But when you think of all the more productive things you could do with your time, it is a shame that so many of us allow our lives to be taken up by staring into that screen. For the most part, we've been very happy with our decision. It has allowed us to do a little bit of what John Wesley called "redeeming the time" (though he was talking about waking up earlier each day!).

I sometimes think about this kind of reflection by asking myself, "What are the things you would never, ever say to St. Peter?" As in, I would never look back over my life and say, "Gee, I wish I had watched more TV." Or, "Man, I wish I had argued with my wife more." Or, "You know, I wish I had spent more time worrying about material things."

It reminds me of a line from George Eliot's novel, Adam Bede. I listened to an unabridged audio version of this wonderful book a few years ago, so I know I won't get the quote exactly right. But at the end of one of the chapters, Eliot writes something to the effect, "When death, the great reconciler, has come, it is never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity."

Isn't that great? To me, it says everything about how we choose to go about spending the precious time that we have in this life.

John Howard Yoder has a profound statement in his book, The Original Revolution, where he writes, "We are not marching to Zion because we think that by our own momentum we can get there. But that is still where we are going. We are marching to Zion because, when God lets down from heaven the new Jerusalem prepared for us, we want to be the kind of persons and the kind of community that will not feel strange there."

That statement by Yoder comes in the context of a book on pacifism, and he is referring to the calling to live a nonviolent life. We might also think about how it relates to the more mundane, day-to-day decisions about how we live our lives. If, as Christians, we are called to live in a way that anticipates our lives in the kingdom of God, then it matters a great deal how we spend the hours of our day. We ought to want to live as the kind of people whose commitments of time and talent are holy, meaning that they are oriented towards the love we know in Jesus Christ.

For most of us, today will look a lot like yesterday. We live in the same house, drive to the same places, and do many of the same things. Our lives tend toward the routine. And since that's the case, it means that what makes up the routine is of a great deal of importance. Are you spending the hours of your life doing things you'll later regret?

And if you look back on your life from the perspective of the Pearly Gates, considering all the things you've done and the things you've left undone, will you find that you devoted a huge chunk of your time to habits and activities that could have been used to a much greater purpose?

Role models, on and off the field

When athletes are in the news for something other than the game they played the night before, usually the reasons are not good. Sometimes it's run of the mill reasons: performance-enhancing drugs, run-ins with the law, and general prima donna behavior. And then, there's the stranger stuff, like illegal dogfighting rings and accidental self-inflicted gunshot wounds in nightclubs.

I remember how strange it seemed to me last year when Matt Jones, the former standout quarterback for the Arkansas Razorbacks, was arrested on cocaine charges in a parking lot in Fayetteville, AR. How could a guy with no previous history of trouble, who had found success in the NFL, do something so stupid? (FYI, many who knew more about Jones than I did were not so surprised. Sometimes it's not about prior arrest records so much as prior tendencies.) Jones' story seemed to confirm what the media often reflects, namely that both college and pro athletes are often a magnet for trouble.

I don't think that athletes are any worse people than the rest of us. They just have the unfortunate combination of lots of money to burn (in the case of the pros), a profession where they are treated like gods, and a high degree of media scrutiny. In other words, they've got ample opportunity to get into trouble coupled with a media machine ready to swoop down on them when they screw up.

We all want athletes to be "role models," right? I mean, that's the phrase you hear anytime an athlete does get caught doing something he shouldn't. The team will always release a statement that says something to the effect: "Athletes are supposed to be role models for kids. We sincerely regret that [Player X] has acted in this way and assure the public that steps will be taken to address this issue."

So with all that, it's really nice when an athlete comes along who actually is a role model. With all of his success at the University of Florida, the Gators' quarterback Tim Tebow gets rightfully praised for the life he lives off the field. Tebow spends his summers doing mission work, and he is unafraid to speak about his desire to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ when he's interviewed. When I was e-mailing a friend of mine about doing this blog post earlier today, he wrote back jokingly about how Tebow has already cured world hunger and stopped the hatred in the Middle East. Tebow can seem too good to be true, but maybe that's only because there just aren't that many examples of athletes who live their lives for others (or even for a higher calling).

I want to highlight another, lesser-known role model who is featured in today's sports column by Arkansas-Democrat Gazette sportswriter Wally Hall. That player is tight end D.J. Williams, who is an outstanding player for the Arkansas Razorbacks and who also happens to be an outstanding human being.

Read Wally Hall's column, if you have a couple of minutes. And take note that D.J.'s personality did not emerge out of thin air. That kind of thing has to be cultivated over time.

Hall's column paints the picture of a young guy who has a real strength of character. In a sacrificial sense, even. And that should be celebrated, just as much as Williams' exploits on the football field. High profile athletes can often get away with obnoxious behavior. And that means the ones who do show a willingness to reach out to the least, the last, and the lost are doing something that runs counter to the general culture of the sports world. When it happens, it's great to see.

[Update on 6/5/09: Chris Low of ESPN has written a story on D.J.'s background that makes his successes now, on and off the field, even more remarkable.]

Economy's loss, our gain

The economy's current troubles seem to be so multi-layered. There's the credit crunch that makes it hard for businesses (and even individuals) to get loans. Then there's the bailout that is causing the national debt to skyrocket. The shrinking of the economy is threatening all kinds of small businesses that could never hope for a government rescue, of course. And finally, there's the rising level of unemployment that is threatening the livelihood of families all over the country.

Perhaps the most unsettling aspect of the recession is that nobody knows when it will end or how bad it will get. And that's a recipe for nation-wide anxiety.

With all the bad news we hear from the media everyday, it would be nice to hear a little good news for a change.

My column in the UM Reporter this week looks at the opportunity that living in the midst of this economic downturn can give to us as disciples of Jesus. Our consumer lifestyles don't have much patience for the teaching in the New Testament - from Jesus and elsewhere - that we should be very wary of over-indulgence in material luxuries. But the recession seems to be doing to us what Jesus is not, and that is causing us to re-evaluate lifestyles that focus way too much on mammon and way to little on God.

I don't think God makes a habit out of inflicting suffering on us very often. But God can certainly use the suffering we do experience for the good. And who knows? Maybe that's the good news that can come out of our current economic woes. If the recession draws us closer to Christ, then the economy's loss is our gain.

Teleprompting prayers

There are two kinds of preachers in the world: those who write out their pastoral prayers beforehand, and those who pray extemporaneously.

Ok, so that's a bit of an oversimplification. But I've found that people (both pastors and laity) can have strong opinions one way or the other.

Those who think all prayers should be offered without preparation often argue that the Holy Spirit works best 'in the moment,' and that preachers should open their hearts to pray on behalf of the congregation in the way the Spirit directs them in a particular worship setting.

On the other hand, those who believe in written prayers tend to emphasize that the Holy Spirit works just as effectively through the kind of careful discernment that goes on in the pastor's study, as the prayer is being written with the confession, petition, praise and thanksgiving of the congregation in mind. (I also recently heard a preacher cite Matthew 6:7-15 as an argument against extemporaneous prayer, although I think that is a bad reading of that text.)

In my own ministry, I've done both. Recently, in fact. During our Holy Week services, I used a lot of written prayers, simply because there are beautiful ones out there related to the great moments of Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. Because they use images and allusions from Scripture in such beautifully poetic fashion, I find that offering liturgical prayers in specific seasons of the Christian year can express the church's praise and thanksgiving better than I could ever hope to do.

But my standard practice for pastoral prayers week in and week out is to pray extemporaneously. I do that in part because my congregation pauses in the middle of worship to offer individual witnesses of praise and to lift up prayer concerns. I write notes about those testimonies of praise and prayer during the service and then incorporate them into my prayer. I have found that this allows me to pray a prayer that is more fully of the whole congregation. And it also ensures that the pastoral prayer speaks to the particular joys, thanksgivings, concerns, and petitions of the church in that given week.

I've been thinking about the issue of how we pray in worship since I read a column on Barack Obama's use of a teleprompter by the Washington Post's Michael Gerson. In his column, Gerson pushes back on those who deride Obama's dependence on the teleprompter, arguing that the "careful sorting of ideas and priorities" that written remarks reflect, whether at news conferences or in full-length speeches, is an essential part of the craft of governing.

Gerson is a former presidential speechwriter, of course. So he is hardly unbiased. But what about introducing the teleprompter to church? Sermons, even pastoral prayers, could be scrolled down a couple of screens set at covenient angles in front of the pulpit! And then we could have the best of both worlds - the appearence of extemporaneous eloquence with the grounding of a carefully crafted text.

How is it that nobody's doing this yet??

Easter Reflection for Holy Week

It's the middle of Holy Week and the end of a semester. As a pastor and graduate student, that means that I feel like I don't have time to sleep (let alone blog!).

As I've been reading through the gospel narratives of Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection in preparation for my church's holy week services, I have been filled with this strange mixture of sadness and hope. Maybe it's not so strange, when you consider that both sadness and hope are exactly what the story should convey to us. But in most years, I don't dwell long enough on the sadness before I move on to Easter morning, the empty tomb, and the great hope we have in Christ resurrected.

This year is different. I don't know why, exactly. But I suspect that my thinking about society's larger economic woes is combining with some of my own personal struggles to be more faithful in a way that is making me dwell more on the sad aspects of a world broken by sin and alienation. I got my new copy of Newsweek this afternoon, and the cover story is an article by Jon Meacham on the decline of "Christian America." I am very leery of mixing fidelity to God and fidelity to country, but from my scan of the article it's not all about the decline of the highly politicized Religious Right. It is also about the decline of the Christian faith in our culture in general, an argument that is backed up by some statistical evidence.

The church is in a tough spot right now. We're all in a tough spot. So I thank God for the promise of Easter, because we need to hear its message now more than ever. I have an Easter column in the United Methodist Reporter this week, which I wrote both to help the church and help myself.

Hosanna, loud Hosanna

The next day the great crowd that had come to the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, shouting,

"Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord - the King of Israel!"

Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written: "Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey's colt!"

His disciples did not understand these things at first; but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these had been written of him and had been done to him.

The Gospel of John, 12:12-16

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From Olivet they followed mid an exultant crowd,
the victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud.
The Lord of earth and heaven rode on in lowly state,
nor scorned that little children should on his bidding wait.

"Hosanna in the highest!" that ancient song we sing,
for Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heaven our King.
O may we ever praise him with heart and life and voice,
and in his blissful presence eternally rejoice!

"Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" (United Methodist Hymnal, 278)

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... And so, with your people on earth
and all the company of heaven
we praise your name and join their unending hymn:

Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might,
heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest!
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest!

Sanctus, The Great Thanksgiving (UMH, p.9)

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After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.

They cried out in a loud voice, saying, "Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!"

And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, singing, "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen."

The Revelation to John, 7:9-12

Heading into the Weekend

I've been swamped this week, but I wanted to post on this beautiful Friday evening to share a couple of things:

First, I've got a recent column in the United Methodist Reporter that looks at the importance of doing work to preserve and extend the Wesleyan tradition of our church. I mentioned this in passing in a post last week, but I wanted to highlight it here. The column reflects on my recent trip to the Wesleyan Theological Society's annual meeting back in March, when I got to interact with fellow United Methodists as well as folks from the Church of the Nazarene, Free Methodist Church, Church of God, and Wesleyan Church. The WTS is made up of people who are committed to the common Wesleyan foundation of all our churches, and they do historical and theological work aimed at preserving and developing the Wesleyan tradition. If you are a student or pastor with an interest in Wesleyan theology or Methodist history, I would recommend joining the WTS and planning on attending its annual spring meeting. It is wonderfully invigorating.

Second, the crush of work this week has kept me from responding to some of the insightful comments to my blog post last week on possibilities for church reform. I devoted a couple of hours this afternoon to just such a response, which you can see by scrolling to the bottom of the comments on that post. I only mention that because my response includes a reflection on the proposed constitutional amendments to the Book of Discipline that will be taken up for consideration by annual conferences this summer. The reflection is written in conversation with Bruce Robbins' book, A World Parish?, which I believe is key to understanding what the amendments are aiming toward. An essay I am working on right now will include my views on the amendments in fuller form, and I plan on making that essay available on this blog when it is finished.

As we prepare to move into Holy Week, I hope everyone is blessed with the same beautiful weather that we are promised here in Durham this weekend.