Fountainhead Phase: Ayn Rand Anyone?

Happy New Year to all! How great to have some down time - and I hope you and yours are enjoying some as well - and that you have had a blessed Christmas. (Excuse me...are having).

OK - this Sunday's theme: willpower. Perhaps a worthy topic for those taking inventory of their lives at the division between Oh-nine and Oh-Ten. Anybody out there thinking of New Year's resolutions? And if you are...here's a question: How does one get the power, the willpower, to change? To become?

Kicking around in my cluttered head amidst this rumination is...Ayn Rand. I will confess: I have never read The Fountainhead. Read a summary or two, and have read up on "objectivism" and its relationship (and to some degree non-affinity) with brother Friedrich Nietzsche.

One of the most hilarious bits of lit I've read in the past couple years is Tobias Wolff's depiction of Ayn Rand in his wonderful little book Old School. (A quick read, totally worth it; one of the books that made me boo hoo like a babe at the end....). In it, he describes the main character's "Fountainhead" phase - disdaining all forms of mediocrity, and "second handers'" attempts to bring down his quest for excellence. A hoot.

The reason I mention this: Ayn Rand and Friedrich Nietzsche are frisky atheists - the latter brilliant, the former banal in my humble opinion - but both are poster children for the philosophical school of thought that focuses on self-will. The chief gift of being human is the ability to create, and to create one's destiny apart from the mediocritizing influence of the madding crowd. In this mode of thinking, faith misdirects our human will toward that which is unworthy of us; toward a "slave morality" as Nietzsche put it, which lauds the lowly, and shuns the great. (Love to hear from any Nietzscheans or anti-Nietzscheans out there).

Read Nietzche and you'll see he's got a lot to say, even to Christians. Not so much (OK, not having really read her) Ayn Rand, but I'm still open.

But to the point here: where does the power to change come from? The power to become who we are truly meant to be as humans? Does it come from our human will and determination? Or is there something to the notion that that power in fact comes from a source beyond human; and we put it to use in simply trusting it, believing in it.

Those in 12-step programs call it a "higher power". I would imagine such folk are not terribly simpatico with likes of Rand and Nietzsche. Theirs (and mine) is the belief that change requires something beyond us, a power that is higher than the human will. According to John, a power "to become children of God, who [are] born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God." Read the full text of John 1:1-18 here.

Where do we get the power to change? Love to hear any stories about how folk have found the power and ability to do that - to change something about themselves. How did you decide what needed to change? What was it that prompted you to do so? Setbacks and backslides? Success and confidence? Love to hear from you - by email or, heck, responding here....

Lastly...anybody out there who also had a "Fountainhead Phase". (I know a few of them...).

Meanwhile - Happy New Year! And good luck with those resolutions.

Jeff V.

As it had been told them....

Bah, humbug. I'll be honest: I hate preaching on Christmas Eve.

Why? 'Tis the most challenging day of the year. Folk want to get to their eggnog. Or have already had a healthy dose. Folk want their shot of church, without much todo about it. And what new to say about this way-too-familiar text?

So, keep it simple, I say.

Here's what I'm thinking about as I ruminate on the old, old story.

The Shepherds. They saw something. They saw something that completely re-framed their reality. "They went away glorifying and praising God, for all they had seen...." (Luke 2:20).

They saw something. Here's the question this time rattling around in my mind: how is it that our seeing can frame, or re-frame, our reality?

We know of so many stories where such a thing - seeing - can define and reframe one's life for ill. Lot's wife looking back at the sin she was fleeing from in Genesis 19 became a pillar of salt; that act of seeing froze her mind. Captain Ahab, seeing the White Whale chew off his leg. That experience was like seeing the Medusa; with a mind turned to stone, vengeance became the dominant principle in his life.

Modern psychology has well documented how seeing such a thing can freeze our imagination, and lock us into a state of being that sees only one reality. Ahab on his mad quest. The war veteran who still hears the shells going off in his mind. The abused woman who fears all men because of the experience of trauma with one of them.

But, the Shepherds. They saw the anti-Medusa. Something quite different. They saw what reframed not only their reality, but (if you believe) all reality. God become human. In that act, God changed human DNA itself, by taking it on, strand by strand, Godself. God become flesh, glorifying all flesh.

That notion is one that should blow our minds; it should reframe every mental pathway. "They went away glorifying and praising God, for all they had seen as it had been told to them." Ah, there's a key bit, yes? Here's the challenge to Calvin. It's not just about sitting back and waiting for something to happen, something to be shown. It has been shown, but the Shepherds job is indeed to "Go." Go to Bethlehem, where you "shall see this thing that has taken place."

They have been told.

We have been told. Sure, no angel choruses. But we have the transcript. We have it on reliable testimony that the news is true.

A friend of mine told me about a movie he saw recently called The Secret. I haven't seen the movie, but he described it as a movie that profoundly affected his thinking. From what I could tell, the basic gist is this: what you tell yourself determines what you shall see.

A person whose dominant message is, "life sucks because a white whale bit my leg off," will see things a certain way. Grievance is the primary lens through which one looks at life.

Another, who understands, "God has glorified all of life by becoming one of us," will see quite another reality. Gratitude is the primary motif. What will such a person see? What glory? What goodness?

We've been told. Now is ours to Go. To see this thing that has happened.

Have you seen? Have you seen something that has re-framed your reality? And was your seeing somehow tied to what you "had been told"?

Do we--do you--not struggle with this? That father-in-law whose identity is frozen in your mind as the selfish one. The stingy boss who will never praise you enough. A life that is never satisfying enough. A spouse who is constantly not living up to your expectations. "Go. See." You might see something completely different, that reframes your whole life.

Worth a look.

So now I'm thinking: how do I love preaching on Christmas Eve? The opportunity to see something new in these so-familiar texts. The chance to invite the text to touch the heart of someone who never comes to church, the CEO (Christmas and Easter Only) set. What a blessing! What a glory! Praise and Glory to God!

Wishing you and yours a merry, and Humbug-free, Christmas.

Blessings,

Jeff V.

PS - THANKS to my good friend, the Rev. William McQuoid, who will fill the pulpit this Sunday, December 27.

Seven Minutes...and Why Pay the Preacher?

Since I am not preaching this week - thanks to Jim Moyer, Martha Davidson and our music program doing the homiletical heavy lifting via our Lessons and Carols service - I thought I'd offer a few brief thoughts from the grab bag.

Seven Minutes a Day: an excellent on-line resource. I've been really encouraged about our "Seven Minutes a Day" campaign - having heard from a fair number of you that you have taken up the challenge. For those unaware - this Advent we are encouraging every member of the congregation to take seven minutes a day to begin a spiritual discipline, if that is not already part of your life. Our suggested discipline is on our website, and there are some additional web resources at the bottom of that page.

One of our interns, Grier Booker Richards (spouse of our own Rich Richards, Youth and Young Adult Director) offered another excellent web-based daily devotional: Following the Star. I think this site is quite well done; I would highly commend it to you. It's a project done by Tracy Hartman of Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond, VA. It guides you through an entire devotional time, with scripture, reflection, prayer, and even some really quite lovely music, if you want it - I imagine it takes about seven minutes. Hmm.

I realize that Advent is almost over - but never too late.

Anybody know of other on-line devotional guides out there like this - or unlike this - that span other liturgical seasons - or that run the entire year? Love to hear about it. Chime in!

Why Pay the Preacher? It was Monday, my day off, and this article from the Alban Institute ("Why Pay the Preacher?") caught my eye. After reading it, I felt moved to respond. (Hey, my day off - what else have I got to do?)

Not to open up a can of worms, but I've never actually gotten this kind of scrutiny about my pastoral ministry, let alone my preaching - sad that some seem to have received it. Thoughts? Or...not?

Blessings one and all in this season of hope, peace, joy and love.

Jeff V.

God on the Job

Here’s the question for the week: do you take your faith to work? Do the values you profess on Sunday, have a bearing upon what you do on Monday – and the rest of the week?

It may be true that we’ve got to muster the courage to go out to John’s desert and visit the bug-eating wild man, to hear the Word for our lives (last week's sermon theme, based on Luke 3:1-6). But in this part of the scene (Luke 3:7-18), John’s advice to the folks coming out to him is not, ‘join me in the revolution.’ Nor is he exhorting people to partake in the wilderness lifestyle with him (and the extreme cuisine that goes with it, for you foodies).

Surprisingly, he’s exhorting people to live the life befitting repentance – the Kingdom life of the transformed mind – right where you are. Don’t quit your job, even if you’re a despised tax collector working for “the man” (Caesar). Even if you’re a soldier in the goy army who is occupying you – John’s surprising answer to the people’s guilty question (“what shall we do?”) is this: for the time being, serve God right where you are.

I find that most interesting, and surprising – especially given the diatribe that John levels at those folk coming out to him, looking for a seat on the lifeboat (C’mon, read the text).

So – email me (which seems to be the most frequent way of responding, I’m finding). Or, gosh darn, use the Blogger system to weigh in here: What bearing does your faith have for the rest of your week?

To add a bit of nuance: I recently heard a friend talk about someone he was close with, who said, “the place I work is truly evil.” Are there folks out there in similar situations? And so, can one do “good” in such a place? Can one bloom where one’s planted with the goodness of one’s convictions, even in an evil environment?

And, who says you need a job, to serve God? It's interesting that I've encountered a good number of folk in - and outside - the congregation who've used the occasion of a layoff to put more time into ministering to others, which I sense many feel is in a way their real calling and vocation.

Love to hear from ya.

Jeff

PS – I mentioned the movie Into the Wild in my sermon last week - someone made a very interesting comment on that, and I posted it here as a response to last week's entry....

The Biggest Loser?

One of the comments in last Sunday’s sermon that garnered the most conversation (well, among folk I had a chance to talk with) was my reference to the popular television show The Biggest Loser. I made the point that our nation’s waistline is a sign of a spiritual (not just a physical) malady, and that Loser is an indication of our communal/cultural desire for something different than eating high fat food and hanging around on the couch.

Some described to me the very positive, gracious spirit of the show – how it helps people see that somehow, there is a way. One can change, especially with a lot of help and support. Grace indeed.

Is it true that Loser (whose name I can’t help but associate with the cross…and the thought of Jesus as the ultimate victorious loser…) represents a desire among us to “get in shape” – spiritually? And how does this metaphor of the physical embodiment of that quality (“in shape”) help or hurt our effort and desire to become spiritually (and not just physically) whole?

All who spoke with me about the sermon found that to be a helpful comment; some even indicated that they are now going to make a step toward physical fitness (yes!). And (but?) I am also aware of people in the congregation – and among my friends – who struggle so mightily with issues of weight, food, body image. To what degree is our desire to get “in shape” also a caving in to a body ideal that’s really a pagan idol?

If God loves us as we are, what does it say if our motivation to get “in shape” is to conform to that cultural body ideal that says to us, thin is beautiful? When every billboard supermodel peers down at us, shouting under her breath (and breasts): This is beautiful. What then of our Christian understanding that it is God’s imprint that has already made us all so. Thin fat, tall, short: all are imprinted with the stamp that bespeaks ultimate beauty - however badly we may smudge it.

But all this to emphasize the main point: how do we get in shape, as a community – spiritually? And what does that mean? And how do we get there together?

That’s what Advent’s about. Training for something. A worthy goal, which has to do with what’s ahead. And we need to train for it together.

And so, the conversation about “do you pray?” and “how do you pray?” continues, especially as the final note in the sermon was a challenge – as we begin our “Seven Minutes a Day” campaign – the encouragement to begin – or continue and deepen – a spiritual practice.

Love your comments on any of that above. How are you approaching the notion of getting “in shape”? How is this a spiritual issue for you? Are there folk out there yearning to get in shape “spiritually” and physically? How are you making a first step?

I realize I haven’t said much about this Sunday. That’s because I’m on the road (a trip to Louisville for church biz), and am, frankly, behind.

The text I’ll focus on is the Luke text (Luke 3:1-6), and I am going to focus on the wilderness as an important symbol in the spiritual journey.

Why does the Word of God come to John…in the wilderness? After Luke names all these muckety mucks in high places: a lowland voice of a crazy preacher is the one that bears God's Word.

How has the wilderness played a part in your spiritual journey? Has it enabled you...hindered you from hearing the divine Word?

Look forward to seeing you on Sunday.

Peace,

Jeff

Do You Pray, part 2...

I am yielding blog space today to my colleague in ministry, Brent Ferguson. Brent had trouble (like many of you , I'm hearing) posting a response - so I'm taking the liberty of making him my first ever "Guest Blogger".

(And...looking into why it's so tough to respond here).

A little background: Brent is a member here at Lawrenceville, and a graduate of that fine institution up the road, Princeton Theological Seminary.

I really want to keep the conversation going: what does it mean to do spiritual practice for us? How do we encourage each other in that?

Here's Brent:

Holy gloom-and-doom, Batman! That Luke text is anything but cheerful...

Jeff, this is my first-ever post to anyone's blog, so kudos to you for getting me engaged in the process. There are a few first thoughts that came to mind when I read your prompt:

---Mother Teresa's oft-referenced interview which purportedly went something like this:

Q: So, you're a prayerful woman. What do you say to God when you pray?

A: I don't say much; mostly I listen.

Q: (awed silence, inspired by the depth of her answer, then...) Well, what does God say?

A: God doesn't say much; mostly God listens.

Q: (sustained silence).

---One of my seminary professors, Pat Miller, once made a comment in a study of the Psalms -- not in class, but during an adult education class he was leading at his home church. He suggested that if we only had one prayer to pray our entire lives, it would be the refrain of Psalm 136 (and in many other psalms and other places in scripture): "Give thanks, for the Lord is good; God's steadfast love endures forever." Kind of a desert-island psalm...our dominant posture toward God might realistically be, all things taken into consideration, one of gratitude. That strikes me as not only poignant given this week's Thanksgiving celebrations, but also given our increasing sense both individually and corporately (if we're listening at all to our lives and to our world), that we are not "the masters of our own fate."

And perhaps this last fact is a very good thing, given our tendency to foul things up so much. Understanding it fully keeps us from taking too much credit that isn't ours to take and also keeps us from taking on too much blame that is likewise unhealthy for us psychologically and spiritually.

---I pray way too infrequently. By that I mean the intentional act of orientation toward God (w.r.t. Ellen's comment) in thought, feeling, listening, speaking, etc. If prayer primarily is me trying to deliberately engage in giving or receiving some kind of communication with God, then I frame out way too little time for that, and would like to grow in my capacity for reserving time for that on a regular basis.

---Reading scripture is another important spiritual practice. Talking about it with a small group of commited fellow Christian sojourners would help...but (as you allude) that is difficult to manage in our hustle-bustle lives.

---That I take time to help orient my daughters toward God with prayer and Bible reading smacks of hypocrisy. I do it with them not because "it's good for kids," but because "it's good for humans," and humans are creatures of habit for whom those things well practiced are those things easiest to manage. If I'm recommending something to my kids at a kid-appropriate level, then a modicum of integrity suggests that perhaps I should be doing it at an adult-appropriate level, eh?

---"Practice like you race; race like you practice," I always tell my athletes...the same should go for us. If our ultimate spiritual performance/race day were known, then what would our practice and preparation look like that would help us rehearse for it? Cognitive scientists speak of 10,000 hours of 'deliberate practice' required to develop what we typically call 'expertise' in a given field. That's about 5-10 year's worth of work-weeks at either part- or full-time engagement. But if we're not practicing deliberately at all -- or perhaps more like 1 hour a week, at best -- then it takes a whole lot more time than 10 years to get to 10,000 hours of 'development of expertise.' (More like 2-3 lifetimes' worth!)

Ok, this is way too long. I've overshot this first blog moment in a big way. For now, know that I have already been praying for you in your sermon preparation, and that I'm eager, as always, to see where God leads this conversation in the pulpit. Thanks for your willingness to engage the community in the theological reflections that inform your preaching, Jeff.

Peace,

Brent

Do you pray?

I really want to know.

One of the edges that we seem to be treading right now - our staff, our leaders, our congregation - has to do with this question: how do modern people do spiritual practice? Is modern life compatible with it? And how do we support each other as a community of faith to "prepare room" for the God-who-comes?

As Advent begins on Sunday (gee whiz, feel like I'm still cleaning sand out of my ears), we once again contemplate the question: how do we prepare ourselves to meet the God-who-comes, in the least likely clothing: flesh. The flesh of a most vulnerable child, born in the backwoods of the Roman empire. How do we attune our hearing to discern that cry, to see the trace of the divine, in the traces of our daily lives?

I will likely be focusing this Sunday on the text from First Thessalonians, but this cheery text from Luke may also make an appearance in this week's brief (promise) Communion homily.

But the focus of the reflection this Sunday is this: how can we together prepare room for God - especially when our lives are so often seem stuffed full of...stuff? How can we encourage each other to practice...spiritually? If Christianity were a marathon you ran tomorrow, how would you fare?

So...do you pray? And if so, how?

Do you pray on the road? Doing the dishes? In your prayer closet? With the scripture? With your breath? Looking for ideas, folks....

(By the way, I find I do a lot more conversation by email than I do here - but I wish folk would bite the bullet and do sign on to the blogger system...).

Have a blessed Thanksgiving, all!

Jeff