A Tiny Bit on Postmodern Christians

I write this evening a headier sort of post. One of the things I am doing on my break is reading books which I have accumulated over the last few months that I have shelved neatly on the ledge of my bedside table. I am reading, right now, What Would Jesus Deconstruct? by John Caputo. More on the title, and the origins of the "what would Jesus do " do perhaps later in the week. "Deconstruction" is one of the words used in describing postmodern philosophy. All that we thought we could count on in the world is questioned and contradicted. The Enlightenment, with its scientific formulas, and reverence for logic and the mechanical, is passing away, those philosophers will tell us. We are all creatures of our own social context--what is true for us clearly is not always true everywhere. No one religion has the right to claim authority. This is what many postmodernists believe.

But there is a group of us, who strongly believe in the truth of Christ, who would still claim to be postmodern thinkers. In this book, Caputo makes the case that Jesus himself was a deconstructionist---with his coming and his life and words, he "deconstructed" religious practices and what constituted religious authority at his time. Since I have just started this book, I am not exactly sure where we are being taken with this.

When I first came into contact with the tenets of postmodern philosophy, through the eyes of Christian writers who did not reject all of it out of hand, but were trying to thoughtfully see how this phase of our social environment we call postmodernism calls the church to a different kind of life, I was fascinated. And captivated. So much I have read continues to call to a deep place within myself that speaks to me when I think about our denomination's structure and history. I would make a case that John Wesley was a deconstructionist. In fact I have.

Our faith expressions today, especially of those of my kids' generation, are much more open to mystery (and being comfortable with that); much more experiential; and much less based on what dogma is taught in what church, and much more interested in whether there is authenticity of relationship and a place for expression through the arts.

Somehow, I still feel as if I am supposed to be a voice for this---to be a person with one foot in one age and one foot in another---but not in a confused way, but in a bridge way. Okay, the metaphor got mixed up here, but I hope you postmoderns, especially, know what I mean...

Blessings

I hope you have had a wonderful Christmas Eve. It is snowing here on the Plaza, and I managed to get to one Christmas Eve service when I had hoped earlier in the week to go to at least three.

All the presents are wrapped, the breakfast casserole is being refrigerated overnight, we managed to get the tree to stand up using an upside down clay flower pot, and I am glad that I am a believer in the baby born tonight. Blessings on you and yours. I hope you find some peace in the midst of all the busyness of tomorrow.

I am taking two and a half weeks off for vacation--I will be off until Jan 12. I will read, organize and ...I have a third thing I am doing but can't remember it...so to sleep I go.

Just a painting

The time is so close when words are inadequate and will not be necessary to describe the Incarnation of God--the baby will be here very very soon. I give you just a picture tonight and I think that is enough.

A Great Night

I don't know if a nightingale sang in Barkley Square tonight, but my Christmas tree DID fall on Amanda Ross.

I invited the student pastors in the Heartland North District to my house for chili tonight, just to gab and let me know anything I should know. Five women showed up and the picture of them is above. On the couch from left to right: Martha Truax (Dearborn) and Karen Tutak (Malta Bend/Grand pass) Standing: Judy Frost (Turney); Me (DS); Emily Carroll (Orrick); Amanda Ross (Polo)

I thought we would have a good time, but we had a GREAT time. We were loud; there was no lag in conversation (instead several times they were all talking at the same time); laughter was abundant and even some tears. And I finally threw out (well, I told them it was my bedtime--sorry Emily and Amanda) at about 10:45. I heard about classes and professors and worship and family and friends and what Christmas will be like, and I heard a lot of love for these churches. And I heard such joy and excitement from Amanda as she contemplates her first full time appointment in July. She said, "I can't wait!" So watch out Missouri, here she comes.

My tree fell on Amanda during one of those very loud talking and laughing moments. We tried to figure out if it was a sign from God, but were having trouble figuring out what the sign meant. Probably it meant that I need to figure out some way to secure the bottom of the tree better.

Hark!

This has been a good day, but I found it difficult to come up with any metaphors or stories to share here from this day's experience. Or if I could think of something, the metaphor would have to be stretched to such an extent that it would not make much sense but silliness to me and you. So, instead, here is another Annie Moses Band Christmas song, this one called "Hark".

A Ditty for 4 Advent

The musical setting for this would be the tune for the verse of "Bring Back My Bonnie to Me":

I'm tired of big Christmas sweaters
With angels and snowmen and such
Come back blue and brown and paisley
The snowmen can turn all to slush!

I'm sick of the slick advertisements
The "Star"'s become heavy as lead
These fliers keep trying to sell us

"Green" presents amidst five page spreads.

But, "ah" there's still beautiful music
That can make this cynic weep tears.
The strains of old Christmas carols
And new ones our children will hear.

Sweet Mary's hard labor grows closer.
The donkey nears Joseph's home town.
Where shepherds will sing with the angels.
Our hope, our salvation is found!

On Kisses

This weekend, I splurged on some artificial mistletoe at Dollar Tree and hung it above the doorway leading from the foyer and the living room. It has been a few years since I have hung mistletoe---I used to have a mistletoe ball, which disappeared during an open house at the old parsonage at Broadway. It embarrassed Cana so she took it. And I never saw it again.

I will tell one story: in my first appointment, the first Christmas (this was about five years before I got married), a friend from college showed up the first Sunday afterward Christmas as a surprise. We had been good friends, but not romantic friends. He came to the parsonage as we were heading out for lunch. We were standing between the living room and kitchen as I showed him around, and lo and behold, he kissed me. It was unexpected but quite pleasant. I had forgotten about the mistletoe I had placed above the doorway, but I am very glad Wally hadn't. It was the beginning of a short but lovely romance.

Enough True Confessions.

Kissing is a lovely thing if the kisser and the kissee are both willing. It is a beautiful thing to kiss the cheek of one of my children---Cana's cheek is so soft, Caleb's so whiskery. Kisses can say, I love you; or I want to comfort you; I am so glad to see you. To give or receive a kiss is an intimate thing in our culture...here you reserve it for special people, whereas in many cultures you can around kissing practically anyone on the cheek and there is no stigma even men kissing men on the cheek . It's what is expected.

The psalm appointed for this week in the guide I use for my devotions is Psalm 85. The psalmist tells us that the day of the Lord is near. It is a hopeful song and a song of thanksgiving. the last four verses read:

Steadfast love and righteousness will meet;

righteousness and peace will kiss each other.

Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,

and righteousness will look down from the sky.

The Lord will give what is good,

and our land will yield its increase,

Righteousness will go before him,

and will make a path for his steps.

Righteousness and peace will kiss each other. That which makes for a right relationship with God and that which makes for shalom will be in an intimate relationship. They will kiss. No more division between personal piety and social witness. Our relationship with God and our ways of following Jesus will merge with the needs of the world into a beautiful whole somehow.

Christmas is really God kissing the world. He loved it and each of us enough that through the Holy Spirit, a young woman bore Hope. We do not know who Jesus kissed--his mother, probably, his earthly father, the people he greeted each day in his life, since in that culture kissing was the normal mode of greeting. He most probably kissed the children as they were brought to him---we don't really know. We do know that he was betrayed with a kiss--which shows how terribly wrong it all was, that a sign of love was turned into the prelude of an execution.

We may be doing our share of kissing this week--our great aunt who smells like Lily of the Valley eau du toilette; if we are bold, w2e may attempt to kiss our teenage nephew wearing all black this Christmas with a nose stud and a frown; our mother with tired eyes but an genuine smile; our father who slips us a fifty dollar bill even though we're 49. But we will certainly be getting more than our share of kisses this week too--God Kisses, if you will allow me that, full of mystery and beauty and most of all Perfect Love that will not let us be or let us go. I hope you get a kiss or two under the mistletoe, too!