Sunday, December 26, 2010

Will I or will I not drive in the snow today? My 20th Final Decision

Snow in Columbia again! I saw it in the wee hours of the morning, my backyard lighted up by moonlight shining on the white sparkly blanket covering everything. The sight did not deter me in the least regarding my plans for the approaching day—worship and hanging out with a friend who is under the weather (couldn’t resist that cliché). So, I got right up when the alarm sounded, despite grogginess from the eating, drinking merriment of Christmas. Yesterday was filled with fun and wonder with special guests and family including three grandsons, ages 1 ½, 3 ½ and 5 ½, a recipe for adorable cuteness (okay, yes, and a few other moments, too). Anyway, the celebration had taken its toll, but I was, nevertheless, on track.

The track began to curve when I glanced out the window to see snow still coming down. Settled with my coffee at the computer, I serendipitously found energy for working on Sunday by Sunday III for a bit. The harder I worked, the heavier the snow seemed to fall. There were few cars on the road, and whispers began circulating in my brain about staying home.

But, then an e-mail from church announced that the “show was on; don’t be scared off by the weather.” Remembering how special it is when there is a small congregation of the faithful few, I wanted to be there. Plus, the gospel lesson included the slaying of the holy innocents. I’m always curious, if not desperate, to hear what good purpose that horrendous story can serve for the building up of faith.

So, I watched the clock to make sure I left in plenty of time—and started worrying about road conditions. To check on that, I found my boots and winter wraps and ventured out. I headed into the park next door, an icy breeze blowing large tufts of snow into my face. I opened my mouth, hoping to catch a few, and thought of our pup Scout seeing her first snow years ago. At first, she was startled and suspicious, but was soon leaping in the air, snapping at the clusters of flakes. Fond memory.

In the park, a couple was sledding and a guy was taking pictures. The only other person I saw walking was dressed in a parka and sipping a beverage out of a plastic bag from Li’l Cricket Gas and Convenience. Making the circle to head home, I turned around a few times to peer down Main Street through the snow and wintry grayness to see if I could spot the state capital. I could, barely; that was cool. There was little traffic, but, as I expected, roads were perfectly clear; there was no reason not to go. Except that now, getting back to my warm house and holing up seemed like the ideal thing to do. This is South Carolina, after all, and any amount of snow is an acceptable excuse for canceling anything, so…

So, here I sit writing, feeling very cozy and rather wimpy—and utterly forgiven for acts of wimpiness and sins of omission and comission. In a few minutes, I’ll heat up leftovers I brought home last night—the richest mashed potatoes you can imagine, broccoli and red peppers with Kalimata olives and feta, stuffed mushrooms. Oh my, oh yum. And now, off to two (of many) lovely sabbath activities that await: a call to Mom and the Sunday paper. Amen!

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

I Am a Myth-led Christian

If I, as a devout Christian, were to dialogue with the folks who put up the atheist billboard at the end of the Lincoln Tunnel in New York City I would focus on the word myth. The billboard, as you probably know, pictures a classic scene of the Nativity of Our Lord, and has the caption, “You KNOW it’s a myth. This Season, Celebrate REASON!”

Yes, I would say, Christianity is based in stories with some historical basis passed on over millennia by a community of people to explain and preserve a set of beliefs and a way of life. This is an alternative definition of the term, something much different from a purely fictional story. And I would share my favorite definition of myth, stated by a young child: “A myth is a story that’s true on the inside but not always on the outside.”

Another important point I would want to make—one of those points that seems that it should go without saying but, alas, must be said—is that there is a wide diversity among those of us who identify ourselves as Christians. For the most part, the Christians I hang out with in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America respect deeply the beliefs and non-beliefs of others. Our understanding of God does not lead us to condemn others, but rather, to love one another. Many Christian billboards cause me to cringe. The fact is, I am more comfortable with kind, friendly atheists than self-righteous Christians who are sure they have all the answers.

I would most certainly share with my fellow human beings who cannot make sense out of God that sense is not the most important aspect of faith—though logic and reason figure in. We do not check our brains at the door of the church and science is no adversary of our God. To find meaning in life and death and life again, we value both mystery and knowledge, both emotion and intellect. Our life together is reasoned and disciplined, and yet, our practices help us move beyond reason. Barbara Crafton, Episcopal clergy, expresses this well: “Liturgy is the recapturing of something that once happened, bringing it alive again and amplifying its meaning in the present moment. Sacraments are not rational occurrences, and they cannot be reduced to reasonable explanation. It is one of the saddest parts of being rational beings, this sterile insistence of ours that everything make sense, our grumpy suspicion of mystery.”

Those would be a few of my main points. And I would listen. I would want to know how they’re faring on this terrestrial ball with its vicissitudes of life. I would learn from them, I am sure, and we would discover common ground. These speculations are based on dialogues I am privileged to enter into frequently.

And I would desire civility and mutual respect in our conversation. I’ve been cruising the Internet, reviewing dialogue between atheists and Christians on billboards and other matters. Clever terms and phrases have made me smile and even laugh out loud, but I was, ultimately, sad at the animosity exhibited. Terms like “religiotards” and “kool-aid drinkers” and descriptions like “your illogical, irrational, Bronze-Age belief system” don’t create a comfort zone for sharing differences and finding likenesses. Neither do patronizing, condescending attitudes displayed by Christians towards those who don’t believe the way they do.

In my Sunday by Sunday series, relationship between Christians and atheists is incarnated in the characters of Rose, inveterate church lady, and Jim, her non-believing neighbor. Dialogue isn’t always easy for these two. With determination and mutual respect, however, they maintain civility and focus on values and beliefs they share. Therein lies human connection which seems sure to align well with the purposes of a loving God—and with an ordered universe.