Showing posts with label City Notes for Inspiring Books - 2018. Show all posts
Showing posts with label City Notes for Inspiring Books - 2018. Show all posts

Monday, October 1, 2018

CN | Learning to Speak God: The Meaning of Neighbor



Jesus' definition of "neighbor" is similar to my earliest notions of this word, which were shaped by a thin, soft-spoken man named Fred—known to the world as Mister Rogers.


This post finishes some notes from one of the top books I have read in 2018: 
Learning to Speak God from Scratch: Why Sacred Words Are Vanishing and How We Can Revive Them by Jonathan Merritt. Below are the previous posts of notes from Learning to Speak God from Scratch:

CN | Learning to Speak God: Sin as Death Dealer, Life Stealer
CN | Learning to Speak God: Grace to Receive and Give Freely

Sin, grace, neighbor. These words have been used, abused, and accrued by many throughout the centuries in relation to religious and irreligious discussions. 

Neighbor is not only a word we need to understand, it's a person we need to become with regular intentionality, care, and action.

In Learning to Speak God from Scratch, author Jonathan Merritt helps unpack the word, "neighbor," with power, consideration, and application. 

Here is an excerpt from Chapter 16: Neighbor: Mister Rogers and the Global Refugee Crisis from Learning to Speak God from Scratch:

Are Syrian Refugees Our Neighbors?

When ISIS militants in Syria beheaded American war correspondent James Foley, I was only a few miles from the country's border, interviewing refugees in a Lebanese tent settlement. The news that ISIS forces were targeting journalists in the region struck me like an anvil, but I did not leave. I could not leave. The Syrian refugee children's stories deserved to be told.

I recorded stories for nearly two weeks before returning home, where Americans were debating whether to allow Syrian refugees into our country. Arriving back to my apartment, I phoned a friend—a Christian of the southern conservative variety—to process the horrors I'd witnessed. He listened patiently to my stories and then responded, "That's sad, but we can't be responsible for those children. We've got our hands full here in America with our own problems."

This kind of "America First" thinking would not fully metastasize in American public life until the political ascension of Donald Trump two years later. But the narrow worldview confounded me even then. "But what if those children were your neighbors?" I asked him. "In that case, I guess I would have to do something to help them," he said.

What Does Neighbor Mean to Jesus?

The English word neighbor derives from the words nigh or "near" and gebur or "dweller." In the literal sense of the English word, a neighbor is someone who lives near you. If we are to love our neighbors, as Jesus instructed, as the second greatest commandment, we must care for those who live in close proximity to us. But in a world of hustle, bustle, and business, this simple task can seem formidable. In many American communities, it's easy to avoid knowing or being known by one's neighbors. As a result, we have forgotten how to love and prioritize the people who live alongside us.

Jesus' understanding of neighbor, however, includes but also stretches beyond the fence posts of the English definition. In one of the Bible's most famous passages, a legal expert asks Jesus, "Who is my neighbor?" Jesus tells the story about a Samaritan who helps a Jewish traveler who has been robbed and left for dead. The Samaritan in Jesus' story didn't dwell near the victim. Samaritans lived and worshipped in a segregated community, so he almost certainly didn't reside in close proximity to the bedraggled man. He just happened to be on the same road that day. So Jesus' definition of neighbor seems to be "anyone who is in need." They can live across the street or ten thousand miles away in a refugee camp.

This isn't the way many think of neighbor when they speak it today. In recent years, an isolationist ideal has been rising, narrowing the application of neighbor only to someone you can put eyes on personally. But Jesus' definition is similar to my earliest notions of this word, which were shaped by a thin, soft-spoken man named Fred—known to the world as Mister Rogers.

How did Mister Rogers Help Restore the Meaning of Neighbor?

Fred Rogers got into television because he "hated" the medium. During his senior year in seminary, he encountered television for the first time, and what he witness repulsed him. "I got into television," he once recounted, "because I saw people throwing pies at each other's faces, and that to me was demeaning behavior. And if there's anything that bothers me, it's one person demeaning another. That really makes me mad!"

In the wake of World War II, when many men (many of them veterans), were having trouble expressing their feelings, Fred Rogers recognized that the children of these quiet giants might also have difficulty expressing their emotions. He worried that the type of programming that was becoming normative would spawn a generation of emotionally bankrupt Americans. Faced with the decision to either sour on television itself or work to better the medium, he chose the latter and began pursuing a career in broadcasting. Fourteen years later, he created one of the most beloved American television shows of all time. Each day he stood before a camera and spoke words that, like torches, illuminated his young viewers' minds and shaped entire generations of American children.

Fred Rogers knew the power his words contained, which is why he reviewed his shows and scripts with Dr. Margaret McFarland, a professor in the department of psychiatry at the University of Pittsburgh. Before taping an episode, a team of child psychology experts reviewed the script's effects on children's cognitive and emotional development. He talked to children like adults, teaching kids to face the world's hard realities and not shrink back. Emotions should be embraced, not buried. "The world is not always a kind place," he once said. "That's something all children learn for themselves, whether we want them to or not, but it's something they really need our help to understand." Rogers imagined himself as something of a surrogate parent, which is why other children never appeared on the show. He didn't want to create a sentiment of sibling rivalry. When Rogers encountered a child who watched faithfully, he might say, "Why, I think you've grown!" And the child often proudly responded, "I thought you'd notice that, Mr. Rogers." Such responses proved that he had been successful in providing what he called "a neighborhood expression of care for children." 

Rogers's approach to his craft and calling was the result of his Christian faith. Rogers was an ordained minister, and since he left seminary to pursue television, the local branch of his denomination gave him a special commission as an evangelist to children. This unlikely TV evangelist seemed to be always aware that his vocational calling was originated from on high. He believed "the space between the television set and the viewer is holy ground," though he trusted God to do the heavy lifting. The wall of his office featured a framed picture of the Greek word for "grace," a constant reminder of his belief that he could use television "for the broadcasting of grace through the land." And before entering that office each day, Rogers would pray, "Dear God, let some word that is heard be yours."

In 1998, Esquire reported the story of a young viewer of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood with an acute case of autism. The child had never spoken a word until one day he uttered, "X the Owl," the name of one of Mister Rogers's most popular puppets. And the boy had never looked his father in the eye either, until the day his dad said, "Let's go the Neighborhood of Make-Believe." After this, the boy began speaking and reading, which inspired the father to visit Fred Rogers personally to thank him for changing his son's life. Later in Rogers's life, he recounted the story of a child who was being abused by his biological parents, who reportedly "wouldn't even give him a winter blanket and wouldn't give him a bed to sleep in." Through encountering Mister Roger's Neighborhood, the child began to hope that there were kind people in the world and became convinced that he too should be treated with respect. The child called an abuse hotline and was rescued. Even more stunning, the hotline operator who answered the phone adopted the boy.

No matter which topic an episode featured, there was one word Rogers always spoke: neighbor. For him, a neighbor was not just the person who lived next door to you that you waved to when retrieving your mail. It may not be someone who looked like you or dressed like you or frequented the same coffee shop. It was anyone whose path you crossed, especially if that person was in need. Which is to say, Mister Rogers's definition was almost identical to Jesus'. In 1999, when Fred Rogers was inducted into the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences Hall of Fame, he reflected on his career: 

... Life isn't cheap. It's the greatest mystery of any millennium, and television needs to do all it can to broadcast that—to show and tell what the good in life is all about. But how do we make goodness attractive? By doing all we can to bring courage to those whose lives move near our own. By treating our "neighbor" at least as well as we treat ourselves and that to inform everything that we produce. ...  

Fred Rogers's entire existence seemed wrapped up with that legal expert's question to Jesus: "Who is my neighbor?" He did all he could to care for his neighbors—children of every color and creed, living across America and around the world—and he loved them well. "You've made this day a special day by just your being you," he'd famously sign off. "There is no person in the whole world like you, and I like you just the way you are." 

Rogers was right. There is no person in this world like you. You have been created and called to love those in need, whether nestled in the suburban cocoon across the street or languishing in a refugee camp a million miles away. As neighbors, we are bound to each other by humanity, not just proximity. Some in our culture believe we become stronger by being more inward-focused. That building walls and closing borders is better than the biblical mandate to invite all to the table. When it comes to neighborliness, we are connected by need, not nearness. If we began to understand neighbor in this way, it would be a beautiful day in our global neighborhood.

P.S. If you liked these excerpts about Sin, Grace, and Neighbor, then I encourage you to purchase Learning to Speak God from Scratch: Why Sacred Words Are Vanishing and How We Can Revive Them by Jonathan Merritt. The two most profound chapters in the book are:

+ Chapter 10: Pain: Chronic Conditions and Other Metaphors 
+ Chapter 11: Disappointment: Dopamine Roller Coasters and Palm Branches 

Here are links to previous City Notes books:


2017 | Gospel Fluency; Moving Towards Emmaus; Evangelical, Sacramental, and PentecostalFaith Without Illusions

2018 | The Eternal CurrentLearning to Speak God from Scratch Part 1; Learning to Speak God from Scratch Part 2

Next post: CN | Tattoos on the Heart: Compassion: The Wallpaper of Jesus' Soul

Christ is all,

Rev. Mike "Sully" Sullivan

Sunday, September 30, 2018

CN | Learning to Speak God: Grace to Receive and Give Freely



Grace on the receiving end is free, no doubt. Grace on the giving end may cost you everything. 


This post continues some notes from one of the top books I have read in 2018: 
Learning to Speak God from Scratch: Why Sacred Words Are Vanishing and How We Can Revive Them by Jonathan Merritt. Below is a previous post of notes from Learning to Speak God from Scratch:

CN | Learning to Speak God: Sin as Death Dealer, Life Stealer

Sin, grace, neighbor. These words have been used, abused, and accrued by many throughout the centuries in relation to religious and irreligious discussions. 

Grace is a word that is used a lot today, but as often happens, powerful words can lose the incendiary potency of their origins when we broaden or water down their application.

In Learning to Speak God from Scratch, author Jonathan Merritt helps unpack the word, "grace," with curiosity, consideration, and application. 

Here is an excerpt from Chapter 16: Grace: Umbrellas and Unmerited Favor from Learning to Speak God from Scratch:

When I began to research common understandings of grace among modern American Christians, it struck me that while popular definitions vary, they also share a common thread. Each definition of grace I encountered, without exception, contained at least three components:

1. Something that flows from God to humans, usually leading to "salvation" 
2. Something that God offers freely—an undeserved gift 
3. Something that God offers joyfully

But what about the kind of grace that humans offer to each other?

The idea that we are called to be people of grace, by some mechanism in which God's grace fills us up and spills out into the world, is both ancient and Christian. The Bible encourages us to infuse grace into our actions and even our words. If we are the offspring of a gracious God, it stands to reason that we are to be gracious children. Grace is woven into our DNA.

Unfortunately, modern American Christians haven't much to say about this kind of grace. Which is probably why when you ask nonreligious people what they think of Christians, they will often say "judgmental" or "hypocritical" before "gracious." Twenty-first century Christians desperately need to develop a more robust understanding of this important word. But trespassers beware. Talking about grace may not be a comfortable conversation.

Grace on the receiving end is a lovely flower.  
Grace on the giving end is the pits. 

Grace on the receiving end is free, no doubt. 
Grace on the giving end may cost you everything. 

Grace on the receiving end is joyful. 
Grace on the giving end is often painful.

Just a few months after relocating to Brooklyn, I encountered the second kind of grace. This marked the first time I remember despising the city. I was only five blocks from my apartment, en route to meet a friend for dinner, when thunder clapped and the sky fell. As a New York newbie, I wasn't yet in the habit of checking the weather each time I ventured outside my apartment building. I was unarmed and unprepared, in desperate need of an umbrella.

In the distance, I spotted a grocery store and dashed in its direction. Twenty-nine dollars seemed like hefty freight for an umbrella, but I was desperate. I paid the cashier and ventured back into the downpour. I had walked only two blocks when I noticed her. An elderly woman walking in stride with me as the rain pelted her sideways. She had also apparently forgotten to check the weather before departing, and she was now soaking wet as a consequence. The fabric of her dress was bunched up and dripping, and her drenched silver hair fell like a dark curtain around her head. With each step I took, the good ole Christian guilt welled up inside of me. By the time I reached her, a spring fired in my elbow and I handed her my new umbrella, the price tag still dangling. "Here you go, ma'am," I said. "Why don't you take this?" Without a word and avoiding eye contact, she snatched the handle as if entitled to it and lumbered off.

I rolled my eyesHow could she have been so rude?—but I had no time to dwell on the encounter. I was back where I had started, wet and exposed. With haste, I jogged to a bodega on the approaching corner and purchased a second umbrella. Another two blocks, another helpless person approaching. The man sat in a motorized wheelchair that appeared to need a tune-up. With one arm he steered, and with the other, he held a plastic shopping bag over his head to shield him from the storm. A few more steps, and I felt the nudge again. Upon reaching him, I handed him my second umbrella with a kind of encouragement. He didn't even slow down, grabbing the umbrella like it was a baton and he was an Olympic runner. Not a word to me.

Ingrate! By this point, I was seething and grumbling and miserable. My fabric shoes were squishing beneath me, and my feet were bone cold. I was late for dinner, and there wasn't another store to procure an umbrella between me and the restaurant. I broke into a sprint and raced toward my destination. One block away—I could smell the restaurant already—I was forced to stop at the crosswalk. Water dribbled down my face onto my already soaked shirt. Well, at least it can't get any worse, I thought. Just then, a speeding SUV bolted through the intersection and barreled through a muddy water puddle so large you'd need a boating license to cross it. Like in a movie, a wave of water waist-high slapped me and forced me to stumble backward. The light turned green, and I walked the final distance. Denim clung to my legs, now colder than cold.

I entered the restaurant brooding in silence. While my friend surveyed my rain-soaked disposition, I removed my shoes and hung my socks on the coat rack. He didn't say anything at first, and neither did I. But he finally broke the quiet and asked me what had happened.

"Grace happened, that's what," I replied. "And I hate it—and I love it."

Next post: CN | Learning to Speak God: The Meaning of Neighbor

Here are links to previous City Notes books:


2017 | Gospel Fluency; Moving Towards Emmaus; Evangelical, Sacramental, and PentecostalFaith Without Illusions

2018 | The Eternal Current; Learning to Speak God from Scratch Part 1

Christ is all,

Rev. Mike "Sully" Sullivan

Saturday, September 29, 2018

CN | Learning to Speak God: Sin as Death Dealer, Life Stealer



Sin is a death dealer and a life stealer. This definition frees us to affirm that God hates sin. Not because God is an angry rule-maker. But because God loves us without constraint.


Sin, grace, neighbor. These words have been used, abused, and accrued by many throughout the centuries in relation to religious and irreligious discussions. 

Sin, in particular, is a word that has some painful punch to it, particularly in how it's been used to separate and isolate, instead of reveal and heal.

In another one of my favorite books published in 2018, Learning to Speak God from Scratch: Why Sacred Words Are Vanishing and How We Can Revive Them, author Jonathan Merritt helps unpack the word, "sin," with history, curiosity, consideration, and meaning. For some more help, The Bible Project's brilliant and illuminating Word Study videos on Iniquity, Transgression, and Sin.

Here is an excerpt from Chapter 15: Sin: Pocket Nails and a Mountain of Metaphors from Learning to Speak God from Scratch:

| 1 | Stain: The earliest notions of sin in Judaism drew on the metaphor of a stain. It is something that marked us and awaited cleansing. In this metaphor, the spit and polish of forgiveness was not sufficient to completely wipe away sin. 

| 2 | Weight: A different metaphor eventually dominated among early writers of the Jewish Bible: sin as a weight. Whenever a person or a people broke God's laws, sin was the weight that was lowered onto the people. This mass would be dragged around until it was lifted—not by way of individual repentance, typically, but rather corporate ritual.

| 3 | Debt: By the time Jesus arrives on the scene in first-century Palestine, the understanding of sin as a debt had replaced earlier notions. Jesus speaks of sin predominantly in terms of a debt that needs to be paid off. Many recite His famous prayer He taught by praying, "Forgive us our debts." And when He wants to describe what the Kingdom of God is like, He talks about a servant who owes a colossal monetary debt to a king. Paul follows suit. In Romans, he talks about "the wages of sin," an idea that would sound strange to earlier Jewish writers. This new definition of sin allowed the biblical authors to add a feature to their understanding of the concept. 

Some today talk about sin primarily as a "problem." It is an obstacle that we face, a puzzle that needs solving. Others speak of sin as a "sickness." It's an illness, a malady, a vexing condition. Still others speak of sin as "lawlessness."

Like all metaphors, these reveal a part of the truth, but not the whole truth.

When we speak of sin as a problem, it implies that God is the solution to what ails us. But this isn't the whole truth, because God doesn't just solve the problem of sin in the world without us. When we speak of sin as a sickness, it expresses the notion that sin infects all of us at some point during our lives and is often contagious. But this isn't the whole truth, because a sickness is something that happens to you and you are not responsible for its effects. Punishment for an evildoer would never be justified if sin as sickness told us everything about it. When we speak of sin as lawlessness, it helps us to understand the ways in which our everyday behaviors may be unloving and harmful, and it leaves us responsible for our actions. But it doesn't tell the whole truth, because it can turn God into a strict disciplinarian with a list of dos and don't while subtly encouraging us human to derive our worth from being on our best behavior.

Sin is something we've done that robs us and others of the fullness of life given to us by God through Jesus.

A theologian friend of mine provides a definition that I find helpful. She says that life itself is the only framework comprehensive enough to explain sin. After all, sin affects all of life. 

Since Jesus described Himself as the One who came to give abundant life to all creation, we might think of sin as anything that robs us of the fullness of life—or something we've done that robs others of the fullness of life. Sin as a thief, if you will.

Some people use the word flourishing to describe the abundant life, so they describe sin as anything that does not promote flourishing. And the Jewish scriptures use the word shalom—a state of total peace and harmony in life—to get at this idea. Shalom is, as some have said, "the way things are supposed to be." All things reconciled. 

We might say that sin is whatever contributes to life being less than what God intends. Under this definition, sin is a sickness, a problem, and a failure to live by ethical rules that promote life. It's like a stain, a weight, and in some way, a debt. It is brokenness and messiness and mistakes. Sin is a death dealer and a life stealer.

This definition frees us to affirm that God hates sin. Not because God is an angry rule-maker. But because God loves us without constraint. God wants each of us to live the abundant life. God wants peace for us. God wants shalom for us. God wants us to flourish. He wants us to recognize the divine imprint in others and support their flourishing. Any force that resists the abundant life is called "sin," and this is a force to which God stands opposed. 

Sin is a reality faced by all—the cost of life on earth. It mars everything. Sin is present in workdays and weekends, in family lives, in public policy, and in private thoughts. Even our good deeds often have sinful motivations. A friend of mine is a great philanthropist, but he gives money so that others will consider him charitable. Another friends attends every baseball game his son plays in, but he is driven by a need to be better than his own absentee father. The most selfless acts are often touched by sinful impulses.

We cannot understand what we will not name, and we cannot confront it unless we name it rightly. By acknowledging sin exists, we affirm our common condition, recognize that no one is better than another, and recommit to work for the flourishing of all. By speaking it out loud, we admit that life is not always as it should be. By confessing it, we remind ourselves that forgiveness is always available to bullies and so-called snowflakes and everyone in between. Speaking such a word requires people—you and me—to admit that we are deeply flawed and often engage in destructive behavior. This first step may be the most formidable of them all.

Next post: CN | Learning to Speak God: Grace to Receive and Give Freely

Here are links to previous City Notes books:


2017 | Gospel Fluency; Moving Towards Emmaus; Evangelical, Sacramental, and PentecostalFaith Without Illusions

2018 | The Eternal Current

Christ is all,

Rev. Mike "Sully" Sullivan

Saturday, September 15, 2018

CN | Eternal Current: Why We Receive Communion Each Week




Receiving weekly Communion with Emmaus City Church helps us return to Christ, over and over. It is in Christ and through Christ and because of Christ that we give everything for Christ and for the love and life of Worcester.


This bonus post is just because The Eternal Current: How a Practice-Based Faith Can Save Us from Drowning by Aaron Niequist has so much to offerBelow are the previous three posts of notes from The Eternal Current:

Eternal Current: A Prayer for Practicing Forgiveness  
Eternal Current: Praying the Daily Examen Today

Today's notes are a bonus in order to reflect deeply on the importance of the Eucharist being central for Emmaus City's gathering as we practice following Jesus's words and walking in step with His Spirit together in all of life.

Chapter 5 | Church As a Gymnasium: A Practice-Based Gathering: Eucharist


The Eucharist (Communion or the Lord's Supper or the table or Mass) is the high point of the gathering. I encourage you to read Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann's book For the Life of the World and Father Ronald Rolheiser's book Our One Great Act of Fidelity to consider more about the mystery of what happens at the table that Christians have believed throughout history. If you are unfamiliar with the depth and richness of a Eucharistic theology (as I was), these books are like portals into a new world. Read them slowly, reverently, and with great joy.

But even more important than reading about Communion is receiving Communion. If at all possible, find a spiritual community that helps you receive Communion every week. Here are a few reasons to encourage you why:

1 | Receiving Weekly Communion Helps Us Return to Christ, Over and Over


With weekly Communion, no matter what else happens in the service, we land back in this central practice of the presence of Christ every week. After learning about lament, we bring our broken hearts into the presence of Christ. After experimenting with a new practice, we bring our destabilized selves into the presence of Christ. After celebrating God's goodness, we bring our overflowing gratitude into the presence of Christ. Rather than getting stuck in the concepts of information shared during a sermon or even in our own spiritual practice, we accept the invitation to bring whatever we're holding into the presence of the One who called us.


| 2
 | The Weekly Eucharist Reminds Us That a Practice-Based Faith is Not Ultimately about Practice 


It is in Christ and through Christ and because of Christ that we risky getting into the River (John 7:37-39; Ezekiel 47) at all. Communion helps us keep the main thing the main thing. All is Christ (1 Corinthians 8:6Colossians 3:11).

| 3 | Receiving the Eucharist Every Week Transforms Us into People Who Can Humbly Receive from God 


Early in the life of our faith community, Ian Morgon Cron, an Episcopal priest, taught on the heart, theology, and practice of the Eucharist. It was mind stretching and heart forming. At one point, he proactively declared, "Remember, friends, you never take Communion." In a surprised and uncomfortable silence, he smiled and whispered, "It can only be received. Taking is what happened in the Garden of Eden. But opening our hands to receive will put the world back together." This imagery has forever formed our community—both as we approach the table and as we approach the world. Week after week, as we humbly return to the table with our hands open, we learn how to receive from God. Slowly we are becoming people who can get out of our own way and allow God to bring whatever He may.

| 4 | The Eucharist Isn't the Ending but the Beginning


Roman Catholics refer to the Eucharist as the Mass, which is derived from the Latin word missa. Missa is related to the word mission and can be translated as "sent." The word Eucharist literally means "thanksgiving." Therefore, the Eucharist is a feast of thanksgiving that launches us into our mission in the world.

Deep Connection Between the Eucharist and Mission



The Bible's answer to this question is the Church. God's plan is to become present to the world in and through a people, and then invite the world to join with Him. How does this happen? In the simplest of terms, a group of people gather and become present to God. In our life together, we recognize God in the presence of Jesus Christ through disciplines in which He has promised, "I am in your midst." By knowing God's presence in Christ in this way, we are then able to recognize His presence in the world. We participate in His work in the world, and His presence becomes visible. The world then sees God's presence among us and through us and joins in with God. And the world is changed. This, I contend, is faithful presence. This is the Church. And this is how God has chosen to change the world.

While Fitch suggests seven disciplines that help us tend to Christ's presence (the Lord's Table, Reconciliation, Proclaiming the Gospel, Being with the "Least of These," Being with Children, Plurality of Diversely Gifted Leaders, and Kingdom Prayer), he begins with the Eucharist. We practice tending to Christ's presence at the table each week so that our eyes are opened to Christ's presence all week long.


Next post: CN | Learning to Speak God from Scratch: Sin

Here are links to previous City Notes books: A Meal with Jesus; The Art of NeighboringA Praying LifeFamily on Mission; Encounters with Jesus; The Rest of God; Everyday Church; Letters to a Birmingham JailNotes from a Failed Missionary on Rediscovering FaithThe Pursuing GodYawning at Tigers; Gospel Fluency; Moving Towards Emmaus; Evangelical, Sacramental, and PentecostalFaith Without Illusions; The Eternal Current Part 1Part 2 of 3, Part 3

Christ is all,

Rev. Mike "Sully" Sullivan