Remembering the night I stepped into TheOoze and someone kicked a brick

Blogger's Note: I'm writing this following Facebook responses to Davis Mitchell's posting of a Peter Rollins' presentation on YouTube entitled "I Deny the Resurrection," the title of which is a bit compelling, though isn't what it seems.

About 10 years ago, I discovered a site called TheOoze.com, one of the earliest online communities where emergent theology conversations were taking place.

The site was created by Spencer Burke, who was once pastor at Mariners Church, a 10,000-member congregation in Irvine, Calif. It's been a long time, but I have this memory of Burke saying back then that he was a burned-out pastor creating TheOoze.com out of room above his garage.

Late one night, I was journeying through the conversations and stumbled upon this one thread where the question was, in effect, "Can someone explain to me this thing about the 'holiness of God?'" I thought, "Sure, I can do that," and I penned something along the following:

"God is holy and can not be in the presence of sin. All humankind has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. The blood of Jesus Christ, who was without sin, was shed for us. Those who have accepted Christ are covered by the blood of Christ and will be in the presence of God for eternity."

 Basically, that was my answer, and I felt pretty good about it ... until someone else answered me in the thread:

"What a minute, you evangelicals say that all of the time. But if God could not be in the presence of sin, what about when God was in the presence of Adam and Eve after that thing in the garden? And what about the Book of Job, where Satan -- who is pretty much the personification of sin -- is parading in front of God making all those challenges and accusations about Job? And ..."

 I was like, "Whoah ... what have I unleased here?"

But then, I started thinking about what that person on the other side of cyberspace was saying. And then I started thinking about my own theology, with constructs such as prevenient grace, where God is walking with us, loving us, wooing us, long before we might have even acknowledged God's existence, much less accept Christ.

It seemed like someone had knocked a brick out of my foundation and I spent the next 24 hours trying to put the brick back in place.

I got it in, but the mortar looks sort of sloppy, and you can still see the cracks.

I still believe in the holiness of God, and I still believe in the atonement of Christ, thus I still believe Jesus is the way, the truth and the life, and that no one comes to the Father unless it's through Christ. I also believe that those who come to Christ are drawn by the Father.

How the rest of it works out, how it is all manifested in the life and death of others' lives is beyond me.

I only know from my own experience ... and even that is through the glass darkly.

Nonetheless, once I stepped into TheOoze.com, I began journeying into other theological places that others consider swamps filled with snakes and are afraid to enter. I haven't found any snakes; however, I don't necessarily buy all of their constructs, either. Still, I became less fearful of questions concerning foundations that looked a little messy and maybe had a few cracks. I also became less fearful of throwing away bricks that didn't seem to fit my theology any longer.

I just try not to hurt anyone who might be in the path ...

It was time to 'walk on ... by faith'

Sunday evenings are a time of decompressing for me, usually in the form of watching a movie or two with my wife, Donna.

This past Sunday night, we watched “Mississippi Burning,” with Gene Hackman and Willem Dafoe as two FBI agents investigating the 1964 disappearance of two civil rights workers in Mississippi. The movie is said to be loosely based on the real-life kidnapping and slayings of civil rights workers Andrew Goodman, Michael Schwerner and James Chaney in Mississippi. The film closes with a graveside service and Lannie Spann McBride leading a chorus of James Cleveland’s “Walk On By Faith”:

We cannot see in the future, we cannot see through dark clouds.

We cannot see through teardrops, but walk on by faith each day.

The blues-like refrain of “(On Monday), walk on/(On Tuesday), walk on” mournfully resonated with me, and continued to do so during a quiet moment Monday morning as I prepared for my first Martin Luther King Day march.

At nearly 56 years old, you might wonder why it took so long. Chalk it up to journalistic restraint with regard to public demonstrations.

But this year, after due reflection on memories from my childhood during the civil rights era, I sensed the time was right to “walk on by faith.”

I was born into a working-class family in Richmond, Virginia: My father was a Richmond city police officer, and my mother worked as a secretary for a printing company. We didn’t live within city limits; rather, we lived in a little three-bedroom house at 6400 Horsepen Road in Henrico County, far from the city’s black population.

In 1961, when I was about 5 years old, a black woman named Corrine was hired to watch my older sister, Sheree, and me while my mother was at work. At some point, Corrine must have been convinced that it would be good for her son to come to the house and play with me during the day. (While not totally clear, in the cobwebs of my mind it seems it was my idea.)

I remember taking him over to meet my best friend, who was a couple of years older than me. The introductions took place with a fence between us and my best friend but I know now that the fence wasn’t the only thing that separated us: My best friend looked at my new friend and announced, “He’s a n-----.”

It’s the first time I recall hearing the word.

And that’s the only memory I have of Corrine’s son: Not his name, not his age, not his face; just an ugly word.

Even now as that memory stays with me, there is a need to “walk on by faith.”

My paternal grandfather had a number of professions. As a tradesman, he was a bricklayer, painter, wallpaper-hanger and plasterer; however, old-timers in Richmond remember him as a professional baseball player and, like my father, a Richmond city police officer.

In my youth, I idolized him; however, he was a complex man with moments of bigotry mixed with moments of compassion for people of color. It’s possible that having grown up somewhat impoverished himself in the city of Richmond, my grandfather empathized with poor people — whatever their color.

Still, there were people he was friendly with, though it appears they would never be his friends.

One day, we were passing through the ticket turnstile at Parker Field to see the Richmond Braves and my grandfather obviously knew the ticket-taker. He stopped for a moment and they talked and laughed. I thought. “He must be one of Grandpa’s friends.”

My grandfather later said offhandedly, “He’s a high-yellow.”

That’s the only memory I have of the ticket-taker: Not his name, not his face; just an ugly phrase that has stayed with me all of these years.

And so, even now, there is a need to “walk on by faith.”

Oddly enough, my mother’s family — waterfront people from an area of Virginia known as Tidewater — are people whom I recall exhibiting similar moments of bigotry mixed with moments of compassion for people of color and those who were impoverished. As for my mother, she seems to have compassion for all people, regardless of color, and there is no recollection on my part of her exhibiting any bigotry.

Yet, there is an abiding sense that I need to continue to “walk on by faith.”

In 1970, the city of Richmond was faced with court-ordered busing to desegregate schools, which eventually involved a plan to bus white children from the counties into the city, while black children from the city would be sent into the counties. One morning, as I arrived at what was then Brookland Junior High School in the county system, there was a huge black mass on one side of the field and a white mass on the opposite end of the field.

I joined neither side.

Memories of racial strife and violence lead me to “walk on by faith,” because it is only by exercising our faith that we can continue to build a “beloved community” in Blount County.

In the more than 20 years that I have been a part of the Blount County community, time and again I have seen a spirit of love and cooperation reign among people of all colors. True, there have been occasions when bigotry has raised its ugly head. However, in the wake of those instances the community came together and we were given a taste of the “beloved community.”

For the sake of that vision, may we continue to walk on ... by faith.

Buzz Trexler is also managing editor at The Daily Times, where this originally appeared online as a column.

"If any of you are around when I have to meet my day ..."

"If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don't want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver a eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. ... I'd like somebody to mention that day, that Martin Luther King Jr. tried to give his life serving others. I'd like for somebody to say that day, that Martin Luther King Jr. tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day, that I tried to be right on the war question. I want you to be able to say that day, that I did try, in my life, to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say, on that day, that I did try, in my life, to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to serve humanity. Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice; say that I was a drum major for peace; I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter. I won't have any money to leave behind. I won't have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind."

"A Testament of Hope," by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Would that it could be said of us all ...

An All Saints litany once again speaks to no separation between secular and sacred

I move in and out of what is called a Daily Office, a devotional practice, most often using an online site MissionStClare.com. It's the sort of practice that can sometimes help me stay centered spiritually when my prayer life gets disrupted.

On the church calendar, today is the Feast of All Saints and the Daily Office at MissionStClare.com included the following commemoration. I found it trulyinspiring and wanted to share it with you. I found it even more inspiring when I read the litany was composed by a journalist, particularly since I was recently chastised by a reader for "sermonizing" on the Opinion page. On Monday, I responded to his letter, noting that I do not divide my life between "the secular and the sacred."

Feast of All Saints 1 November NT

The litany of saints that follows is chanted annually at the Church of St. Stephen and the Incarnation in Washington, D.C., at the principal eucharist celebrating All Saints' Day. It was composed around 1979, largely by William MacKaye, former religion editor of the Washington Post, though some of the images were taken from A Liberation Prayer Book of the Free Church in Berkeley, California, and has been adapted here and there in the subsequent years.

A Litany of All the Saints

* For all the saints, who from their labor rest,
* Who thee by faith before the world confessed,
* Thy Name, O Jesus, be for ever blessed.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones present at our beginnings:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Abraham and Sarah,
Isaac and Rebecca,
Jacob and Rachel and Leah,
makers of the covenant, forebears of our race:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Elizabeth and Simeon,
Joseph, Monica and Helen,
exemplars in the love and care of children:

Stand Here Beside Us!
John the baptizer, map-maker of the Lord's coming:

Stand Here Beside Us!

* Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might:
* Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
* Thou, in the darkness drear, the one true Light.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones who showed the good news to be the way of life:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Thomas the doubter;
Augustine of Canterbury;
Francis Xavier;
Samuel Joseph Schereschewsky;
all travelers who carried the Gospel to distant places:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Bernard and Dominic;
Catherine of Siena, the scourge of popes;
John and Charles Wesley, preachers in the streets;
all whose power of speaking gave life to the written word:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Benedict of Nursia,
Teresa of Avila;
Nicholas Ferrar;
Elizabeth Ann Seton;
Richard Meux Benson;
Charles de Foucauld;
all founders of communities:

Stand Here Beside Us!

* O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
* Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
* And win, with them, the victor's crown of gold.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones who gave their lives to the care of others:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Louis, king of France;
Margaret, queen of Scotland;
Gandhi the mahatma, reproach to the churches;
Dag Hammarskjold the bureaucrat;
all who made governance an act of faith:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Peter of the keys, denier of the Lord;
Ambrose of Milan, who answered the Church's summons;
Hilda, abbess at Whitby;
Robert Grosseteste, bishop of Lincoln, protector of the Jews;
Jean-Baptiste Vianney, cure d' Ars,

Patient hearer of catalogues of sins;
All faithful shepherds of the Master's flock:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Mary Magdalen, anointer of the Lord's feet;
Luke the physician;
Francis who kissed the leper;
Florence Nightingale;
Albert Schweitzer;
all who brought to the sick and suffering the hands of healing:

Stand Here Beside Us!

* O blest communion, fellowship divine!
* We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
* Yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones who made the proclaiming of God's love a work of art:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Pierluigi da Palestrina;
John Merbecke;
Johann Sebastian Bach;
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart;
Benjamin Britten;
Duke Ellington;
all who sang the Creator's praises in the language of the soul:

Stand Here Beside Us!
David and the Psalmists;
Caedmon;
John Milton, sketcher of Paradise;
William Blake, builder of Jerusalem;
John Mason Neale, preserver of the past;
all poets of the celestial vision:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Zaccheus the tree-climber;
Brother Lawrence;
Therese of Lisieux, the little flower;
Andrew of Glasshampton;
all cultivators of holy simplicity:

Stand Here Beside Us!

* And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
* Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
* And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones haunted by the justice and mercy of God:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Amos of Tekoa, who held up the plumbline;
John Wycliffe, who brought the Scripture to the common folk;
John Hus and Menno Simons, generals in the Lamb's war;
Martin Luther, who could do no other;
George Fox, foe of steeple-houses;
all who kept the Church ever-reforming:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Paul the apostle, transfixed by noonday light;
Augustine of Hippo, God's city planner;
Thomas Aquinas and John Calvin, architects of the divine;
Charles Williams, teacher of coinherence;
Karl Barth, knower of the unknowable;
all who saw God at work and wrote down what they saw:

Stand Here Beside Us!
John, the seer of Patmos;
Anthony of the desert;
Julian, the anchoress of Norwich;
Hildegarde, the sybil of the Rhine;
Meister Eckardt;
Bernadette of Lourdes;
all who were called to see the Master's face:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Joachim of Fiora, prophet of the new age;
Johnny Appleseed, mad planter of Eden;
Sojourner Truth, pilgrim of justice;
Benedict Joseph Labre, priest and panhandler;
all whose love for God was beyond containment:

Stand Here Beside Us!

* The golden evening brightens in the west;
* Soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
* Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones who died in witness to the Christ:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Stephen the deacon, the first martyr, stoned in Jerusalem:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Justin, Ignatius and Polycarp, who refused the incense to Caesar:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Perpetua and Felicity, torn by beasts in the arena at Carthage:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Thomas Cranmer, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley,

Burned in Oxford:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Maximilian Kolbe and Edith Stein, put to death at Auschwitz:

Stand Here Beside Us!
James Reeb, Jonathan Daniels, Michael Schwerner,
Medgar Evers, Viola Liuzzo, shot in the South:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Martin Luther King, shot in Memphis:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Janani Luwum, shot in Kampala:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Oscar Romero, shot in San Salvador:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Martyrs of Rome, of Lyons, of Japan, of Eastern Equatorial
Africa, of Uganda, of Melanesia,
martyrs of everywhere:

STAND HERE BESIDE US!
* But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
* The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
* The King of Glory passes on his way.
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy ones of every time and place:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Glorious company of heaven:

Stand Here Beside Us!
All climbers of the ladder of Paradise:

Stand Here Beside Us!
All runners of the celestial race:

Stand Here Beside Us!

[The people may call out saints' names]

Great cloud of witnesses:

Stand Here Beside Us!

Mary most holy, chief of the saints:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Mary most holy, yes-sayer to God:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Mary most holy, unmarried mother:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Mary most holy, gate of heaven and ark of the covenant:

Stand Here Beside Us!

* From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
* Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
* Singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost:
* Alleluia, alleluia!

Jesus our liberator, creator of all:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Jesus our liberator, redeemer of all:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Jesus our liberator, sanctifier of all:

Stand Here Beside Us!
Jesus our liberator, the alpha and the omega, the beginning and
the end:

Stand Here Beside Us!

The message and the medium

The passing of Apple co-founder Steve Jobs earlier this week sent me down memory lane as I thought about how the invention of the personal computer changed the newspaper industry — not to mention my own personal communications, as well as worship and the church.

In 1996, my then home church Middlebrook Pike United Methodist in Knoxville launched an alternative worship service that engaged digital imagery, not just the projecting of lyrics. Today, such use of imagery is commonplace in worship, not only in megachurches, but small churches as well.

But then technology has not only influenced how we worship, but also how we communicate within the community of faith and relaying the Gospel to the world. From blogs, to Facebook, to YouTube and beyond, the Gospel is being proclaimed globally in bits and bytes through websites, emails, feeds, and digital newsletters, just to name a few of the technological communication devices.

And if we have the imagination to conceive such a thing, perhaps throughout eternity and beyond as the bits and bytes make their way into the heavens through mobil data streams riding the airwaves into who knows where.

What an incredible thought ...

(Incidentally, check out this cartoon by the prepress manager at the Boston Herald.

Waiting on the eternal, collective "Ahhhh ..."

Jesus tells us "the time is coming when everything that is covered will be revealed, and all that is secret will be made known."

That should be good news for postmoderns and others who have a great many questions concerning Christian spirituality.

When we have questions about about matters of faith, it is a healthy thing. Someone once said, "Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith." If that be true, questions should neither be feared -- as if having questions alone would signal an abandonment -- nor should they be revered -- as if having questions means you are more enlightened than others.

After all, it is God who gives us a brain.

The New Testament is filled with questions, answers to questions, and questions left unanswered. The Apostle Paul, who answered a great many practical and rhetorical questions, looked forward to the day when God answered all questions: "For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. "Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." (1 Corinthians 13:12)

What will the revelation of eternity be like? Will it be a cosmic form of "Jeopardy?" Neither Jesus nor Paul says, "All questions will be answered," but instead both suggest of a time when we receive revelation without questions.

Maybe, as a friend of mine once suggested, the most common utterance will be something along the lines of an eternal, collective, "Ahhhh ... now, I see."

Then, the church universal can truly proclaim, "I once was blind, but now I see."

Grace and peace ...

Judge Bell for yourself ...

"Gandhi's in hell? He is? And someone knows this for sure?" -- Rob Bell

Rob Bell is young, evangelical, and pastors Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Mich., which he founded in 1999

The 31-year-old writer published his first book, “Velvet Elvis: Repainting
the Christian Faith,” in 2005, and went on his first nationwide speaking
tour, “Everything is Spiritual,” in 2006. He followed that nationwide tour
with others: “Sex God” and “The Gods Aren’t Angry,” both in 2007, and “Drops Like Stars,” in 2009.

Bell also produces spiritual short films used in small groups under the name NOOMA, a play on the Greek word for spirit, “pneuma.”

All of that and more makes for Bell being considered one of the most influential young evangelical pastors in the nation.

But not everyone is enamored with Bell, particularly with his newest book, “A Book About Heaven, Hell and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived,” set for release on Tuesday.

Advance reports on the book say Bell takes issue with the theological stance that “a select few Christians will spend forever in a peaceful, joyous place called heaven, while the rest of humanity spends forever in torment and punishment in hell with no chance for anything better.”

To some, the resulting outcry falls just short of a cyber-witch hunt.

Among the responses cited by various media, including the New York Times, is one by John Piper, an influential pastor in his own right, who simply wrote, “Farewell, Rob Bell,” which would seem to be an evangelical divorce.

But in the same New York Times report, we read this from Scot McKnight: “Rob Bell is tapping into a younger generation that really wants to open up these questions,” he said. “He is also tapping into the fear of the traditionalists — that these differing views of heaven and hell will compromise the Christian message.”

Watch Bell's promotional video.

Then, read the book. Judge for yourself whether it’s heresy or “holy questioning.”