too easy

One of things that has happened through blogging is that I am more regularly in contact with — and generally aware of — people from other denominations. And when the blogs take me back to my North American roots, that means there’s plenty of room for envy of larger churches, a culture of tithing, and diverse religious traditions where the grass seems green.

When I am tired, the grass often seems greenest at one of the Unitarian Universalist blogs I read. Part of the joy is the way the person writes. She is funny and sane and vibrant. But it is also the picture she paints: a world where people sit light to doctrine, believe deeply in the inherent worth of each person, see the value in community and work for social justice. The UUA (Unitarian Universalist Association) was strong in the edgy quirky town where I did my teaching degree, and I have sometimes wondered if I had stayed there longer, if I would have eventually drifted into the UUA pews.

(funny really. God became optional, but they kept pews…)

Now, as I said, when I am tired, I can feel the pull. When I am fed up with clergy shirts and a life of black and grey, I can long for the freedom of ‘other ways’. But the temptation always seems illusory when I examine it.

Could I really sustain a spiritual life that I had to build from scratch? or a set of beliefs that tried to draw on all and sundry traditions? (if this is unfair to the UUA, I apologize. I know little about it. It is just how it seems).

I am sure that I couldn’t.

When Christianity seems difficult it is tempting to jump off the liberal edge into self-chosen spirituality, and a Christ-shaped humanism, but I know I could not survive there. I might seem to for a while. It might be fun. But when things tip from difficult to seemingly unbearable, what holds you then?

I remember a time during my curacy when being a priest was exceedingly painful. Someone I cared (care) about greatly had had her life derail, and it was all bound up with conflicting concepts of God and the church. I remember the pain. I remember the helplessness. And I remember standing at the altar, blessing and breaking bread with tears in my eyes, thinking ‘this is only bearable because it is true.’

I can’t live without that truth.

And I can’t imagine a life in which all truths are optional.

So no greener UUA pastures for me, then. But I am thankful for the blog, and the occasional glimpse of how life is lived by those brave souls who seem able to live without anything solid to hold onto.

tricky thing, scripture

This Sunday, I will baptize my own god-son. A bit unorthodox, I know, but that is how it is.

And what do the readings offer, to this composite group of Christians and ‘Seventh-day Adventurers’? The martyrdom of Stephen. The claim that some are destined to disobey. And the mixed blessing of ‘No one comes to the Father except through me.’

Time for a clever sermon then… Or shall we just dazzle them with music, flowers, good coffee and splashing water?

hold on

Last night was another session of the bible study which I should have named ‘A Reckless Romp through the Old Testament’.

Reckless because we have been going too fast.
Reckless because so much depends on the overview given in week one, and not everyone was there.
Reckless because I am fascinated by the OT, but it is not really my subject, and I should have spent far more time preparing each session than I have.

Reckless because I have been cavalierly speaking of the gap between event and writing; ‘fact’, and theological retelling; generally playing with fire.

And last night, I found the flaw in my plan. If I am not careful, I’m going to deconstruct things, and then ask people to take a break for the summer. By the time autumn comes, they will all be off reading Richard Dawkins, having been driven from OT henotheism & emergent monotheism to atheism by way of despair.

So, we’ve decided on an extra session which I will think of as ‘holding onto God’.

The study of theology and scripture is exciting because it dismantles our assumptions and exposes the ways we restrict God. Confusion is necessary as we move out of our comfort zone and play with ideas that are– with the one who is — too big to grasp. But when you’re in the midst of it, it can feel pretty grim.

So, for those who are beginning to sympathize with grumpy Israelites wandering through the desert, a word of encouragement: stay with it. After a while the darkness glimmers and a flash of raven’s-wing becomes more captivating than all the bright certainties you thought you knew.

Promise.

And occasionally, you might even be allowed to catch a feather to play with and to call your own.

today, today

I’ve just learnt that today is Blogger Appreciation Day.

Now, I’ve not been giving you a lot to appreciate lately, but hopefully someone else has. The idea is to leave them a comment, thanking them for something specific that you value from their blog.

I think this is a great idea (and I bet the comments aren’t nearly as embarrassing as the cards you can get in the States for ‘clergy appreciation day.’)

Despite many of us valuing and enjoying blogs, there is still a lot of opposition out there. Just last week, someone I greatly respect said to me ‘Don’t talk to me about blogs. Blogs are evil.’ This venom was elicited simply because I suggested that one way a particular group could have private conversation without being dependant on the office computer gurus was to set up a private group blog.

The rumour is that those of us who blog and comment on blogs are continuously nasty to each other and say things that we would never dare say to people’s face. I find this hard to understand. In the SEC, we all blog under our own names. We know that anything we say might be seen, and that we therefore might be judged by it. I won’t pretend that bloggers don’t occasionally make errors of judgement, or that sometimes things come across in ways we don’t intend, but the fact that I can name quite specifically the times I think this has happened suggests it’s rather rare.

As for comments — they can be used for good or ill. Do you think the blogger has gone too far? Tell them. They may be glad you’ve pointed out the problem, and seek to rectify it. If the blogger thinks you have gone too far, the blogger can delete your comment. We don’t do this regularly — but if someone is acting destructively, it is possible to remove the offending item, and email them explaining why.

So, if you are a blog-loather who is reading this in the same spirit that makes people slow down to look at car accidents: here’s your chance. Tell us why you hate blogs.

And if you are thankful for this medium, today’s the day to tell someone why.