This is yet another tension we experience in life -- our memories bring us both pleasure and pain. Why am I even thinking about this? Well... friends and family are throwing a big party for Ingrid and I this weekend. It's our 25th wedding anniversay. Anyway, I've been working hard on a PowerPoint slide presentation that kinda chronicles our life-journey over the years, and it's really been interesting: warm fuzzies, howling laughter, as well as tears.

I've come to believe that not ALL painful memories should be "discarded," even though they hurt. Do you agree?

With the death toll and number of homes lost still climbing here in Southern California, I haven't been able to shake out of my mind the terrible reality that SO MANY people are experiencing today. SO many have lost SO much in the past four days. Among them certainly are those whose cry is directed to heaven -- "Oh God! Why?"

Maybe it's just because I'm a theologian at heart (although I honestly don't think so), or maybe it's because of what I've had to endure myself over the years -- I'm not sure. But I am sure about this: one of the toughest mysteries we have to face in life is the mystery of why a God who says he loves us and wants to bless us would allow such suffering and pain in this world. Admittedly, for these dear people who have been devasted by this fire, this isn't the time for discussions about theodicy (i.e. the thelogy of suffering). They need comfort and a listening ear -- people to weep with. But eventually, many will experience an intense anger directed toward God. It's then that they'll be in the throes of searching for the "why" behind all that's happened.

As that begins to take place, I can't help wondering --will thoughtful and sensitive believers be ready to help the hurting with this quest? Will they have sufficiently wrestled with the idea of suffering so as to reassure people of God's love and care while offerring them hope?

Lord, start with me.

Many of you are probably aware that Southern California is ablaze. In fact, two of these devastating fires are only 50 minutes away from where I live. I know people who have lost homes in this fire. Two friends of mine pastor churches in these areas (i.e. San Bernardio and Rancho Cucamonga). My sister's neighborhood in Upland was evacuated right up to the street next to hers. Nearly a thousand homes have been destroyed, and people's lifelong memories with them. The emotional devastation that's going on is undoubtedly the worst part.

And so here I am, at the beginning of a new week -- not really wanting to think about the emerging church, or postmodernism, or the myriad of issues that so often flood my mind. Today, I'm thinking (and praying) for ALL the people who have lost their homes; of ALL the firefighters who are completely exhausted; and of ALL the emotional pain and stress that SO MANY are experiencing. It's a sobering reality check -- a reminder of what's REALLY important in life: My faith, my family, my friends, my health.

Oh, I'm sure I'll be posting again on "the mysteries of life and faith" -- but not today. Today I'm praying, and re-examining my priorities.

That's the title of a new article by Dan Kimbal in the November/December 2003 issue of Rev. magazine. In the article, Kimball points out what others have been noticing for some time now (including me) -- that all that claims to be postmodern, isn't.

I recently went to one postmodern service. Yes, there were candles. Yes, they used different PowerPoint images (they threw in a few stained glass images instead of the usual nature scenes or business-like presentation look). Yes, they did some more current pop songs instead of just singing the usual praise and worship choruses. Besides that, it seemed very business-as-usual. There were four songs with a band leader in the spotlight on a stage, anouncements, then a 40-minute sermon complete with four application points and the spotlight on the pastor the whole time...Take away the the outer wrapping of the decor and what songs were sung, and it was exactly like any other worship service. Yet this was a postmodern one, according to the church's description... [how] many of us are just being "mini-me modern," but thinking we're postmodern?

Benjy and I regularly shake our heads in disbelief, as we encounter self-proclaimed postmodern ministries that just aren't. It amazes me that while most church leaders admit the need to change our methods of communicating the gospel to today's culture without changing our message -- far too many of them are confusing "style" and/or "ambiance" with these (much needed) method changes.

What methods do I believe should change? How about these for starters:

• Stop conducting "services." In today's culture, it's a word that only reinforces a consumer mentality.
• When the Christian community gathers together, make these times more christocentric rather than bibliocentric (Christ-centered rather than bible-centered). Don't make a "sermon" the centerpiece" of your time together. Encourage participants to encounter the scriptures in other ways. Adopt the more historically prevalent practice of placing the Eucharist (the Lord's Supper) at the center of these times.
• Have multiple (and simultaneous) opportunities for participants to encounter different experiences -- on their own or perhaps with a few friends. These might include a quiet prayer space, a secondary video presentation, or some other multi-sensory "station" where people can uniquely connect with Jesus -- even when something else is happening up-front!

I believe that these are the types of "method" changes the emerging church must embrace. When people come as guests and encounter this kind of difference, they're not likely to think it's church-as-usual.

For roughly three decades now I've witnessed firsthand how good church-going Christians can be at hurting and wounding each other. Sometimes I've wondered if "shooting our wounded" has become a favorite past-time.

Enter the world of postmodern deconstructionists.
The work of deconstruction (from the woes of modernism) is an important work, and I'm not referring here to the postmodern thinkers who are leading reform efforts from within the institutionalized church. OH NO! I'm talking about the elite special forces type of pomo (postmodern person) -- that's right! The pomo sniper!

Pomo snipers are an interesting breed. They tend to be either loners or part of small groups that are loosely associated (you generally won't find them inside the institutionalized church). Many have been wounded or offended by the very Church they now want to "take out." (Sidebar question: do people who go "postal" know that they've gone postal?) It's important to insert here that many followers of Jesus who are pursuing their faith outside of the institutionalized church are anyting BUT snipers. They are deeply genuine and thoughtful people -- people of great faith -- but people who cannot pursue that faith within the institutionalized church any longer (see Fowler's book: A Churchless Faith).

Pomo snipers are as vicious with their criticisms of the Church and it's leaders as they accuse the Church of being. They wound rather indescriminately while convincing themselves of their moral/ethical innocence. This is a kind of arrogance that is all too common among many postmodern adherents -- and even more so with pomo snipers.

Okay, okay, okay -- don't hang me yet! My point is simply this: The opportunity before us today is incredible! The postmodern paradigm holds promise for the future of the Church and of our ancient faith like never before. Breaking free from the chains and mistakes of modern Enlightenment influences is an enormous task -- a task that postmodern followers of Jesus need to work together on, regardless of our past hurts or whether or not we choose to pursue our faith inside or outside of the church. How can we ever rid the Church of "in-fighting" when believers outside of the church are shooting at it, determined that it must die?

We need seers, not snipers;
Visionaries instead of mercenaries.

We don't need the "bad DNA" of what the modern church has become being passed on to the emerging postmodern church. We need to learn from our mistakes rather than repeat them.

With Jesus' help we need to heal the Church, not assasinate it.

It was almost THIRTY years ago that Howard A. Snyder wrote his controversial book, The Problem of Wineskins. In that book, Synder wrote the following:

Christians did not begin to build church buildings until about A.D. 200. This fact suggests that, whatever else church buildings are good for, they are not essential either for numerical growth or spiritual depth. The early church posessed both these qualities, and the church's greatest period of vitality and growth until recent times was during the first two centuries A.D. In other words, the church grew fastest when it did not have the help -- or hindrance -- of church buildings.

Church buildings attest to five facts about the church today.

First, church buildings are a witness to our immobility. What is more immovable than a church building?...The gospel says, "Go," but our church buildings say, "Stay."

Second, church buildings are a witness to our inflexibility. As soon as we erect a building, we cut down on our options by at least seventy-five percent. Once the building is up and in use, the church program and budget are largely determined.

Third, church buildings are a witness to our lack of fellowship. [They] may be worshipful places, but usually they are not friendly places. They are uncomfortable and impersonal. [They] are not made for fellowship, for koinonia in the biblical sense. Homes are.

Fourth, church buildings are a witness to our pride. We insist that our church structures must be beautiful adn well-appointed -- which usually means expensive -- and justify this on the grounds that God deserves the best. But such thinking may be little more than rationalizing of carnal pride.

Finally, church buildings are a witness to our class divisions. The early church was composed of rich and poor, Jew and Greek, black and white, ignorant and educated. But our modern church buildings advertise to the world that this is not true today. A sociologist can take a casual look at ten church buildings and their denominational brand names and then predict with high accuracy the education, income, occupations and social position of the majority of their respective members. In light of the New Testament, this ought not to be. (pp. 69-73)

Wow! It's hard to believe this was written 30 years ago -- in many ways it could easily have been written today, don't you think? Anyway, are church buildings really THAT bad? Is there NO redeeming value to church buildings or edifices? How about the sense of "the holy" that many create/provide? How about those which double as schools? How about the way that many church facilities can accomodate large celebration gatherings of many, many believers all at once?

What are YOUR thoughts? Was Snyder right?

While doing some quick research for a friend, I ran across an excerpt from the following work:

The Psychology of Profanity. By G. T. W. Patrick.

The psychology of profanity, when finally written, will throw considerable light upon two unsolved but much-discussed problems: first, the origin of language, and second, the relation between emotion and expression... Words and phrases used in profane swearing may be divided roughly into seven classes:

1. Names of deities, angels, and devils.
2. Names connected with the sacred matters of religion.
3. Names of saints, holy persons, and biblical characters.
4. Names of sacred places.
5. Words relating to the future life.
6. Vulgar words.
7. Expletives.

The history of profanity is closely connected with the history of religion, since profanity prevailed at those times and among those people where great sacredness attached to the names of the gods, or to matters of religion. In England, for instance, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, after the monkish teaching had implanted a vivid consciousness of the suprasanctity of the body of Christ, and of every scene connected with His death, there burst upon the country a wave of imprecation in which profane use was made of the body and members and wounds of Christ, and of many things connected with His sufferings. Fossil remains of these oaths have come down to us in such expressions as 'zounds,' 's'death,' 'bodikins,' 'odsbodikins,' etc. The significance of this historical circumstance will be seen when we discover that the psychological value of an oath depends upon the force of the 'shock' which it is capable of giving. The occasion of profanity in general is a situation in which there is a high degree of emotion, usually of the aggressive type, accompanied by a certain feeling of helplessness. In cases of great fear, where action is impossible, as in impending shipwreck, men pray; in great anger, unless they can act, they swear. The subjective effects of profanity are characteristic and peculiar. The most striking effect is that of a pleasant feeling of relief from a painful stress. It has a pacifying or purifying effect... profanity is ancient and deep-seated, and probably one of the oldest forms of language.

In animal life, anger is the psychical accompaniment of a failure to coördinate the usual sensory and motor elements connected with combat. Any modifications of the usual reactions of combat of such a character as to induce in the opponent reactions of flight, will be useful and therefore preserved. Terrifying forms of phonation, such as the growl or the roar, are of this characacter[sic]. As vocal language develops, this vocalization will always select the most terrifying, the most 'shocking' words. All the words actually used in profanity are found to possess this common quality. Profanity is to be understood as originally not an expression of emotion, but as a life-serving form of activity. It does not generate emotion. Indirectly it allays it.

You can find more by going here.

(I "bolded" text for added emphasis -- Chris)

So I'm wondering...should profanity (or certain types of profanity) be allowed or perhaps encouraged?

Pain may well be one of humankind's greatest mysteries. I say mystery because of the way in which pain not only tears down (physically, emotionally, spiritually), but also how it builds up (i.e. strengthens, deepens). Unless you've personally experienced excruciating pain in your life (I'm thinking primarily of the emotional variety), you'll probably be somewhat handicapped in understanding the pain of others. How can I say such a thing? I've been on both sides of the fence. I used to think that I could "understand" the pain others were experiencing simply because I was "tapped-in" to God -- and to some extent I could. But after I tragically lost my middle child and my world fell apart -- I quickly began to realize why the beforementioned adage was so true (to read my "story" go here).

Theodicy and the quest to understand why God allows pain, suffering, and evil in the world has been and continues to be important to me. Why am I thinking about this again? It was a stirring blog post I read last night entitled, Abandoned By God -- which really grabbed my attention and humbled me as I read about the soul-searching that Mother Teresa experienced. Just thinking about her life, and how she was constantly surrounded by pain has always been amazing. But to now discover that she was experiencing a deeper, pain-of-the-soul (so to speak), has left me virtually speechless.

Pain and suffering destroys lives, yet contributes to the soul-making of saints. It's a paradox.

Thanks to an online friend that's part of TheOoze.com, I just read a fascinating article by Baylor University professor and author, Ralph C. Wood. It seems that Baylor is in the midst of a firestorm over its decision to begin challenging the modernist, Enlightenment-influenced thinking that has tainted our Christian faith. Here's an excerpt:

The Heresy of Solitary Faith
The visionary changes occurring at Baylor have been met with consternation because we have dined too long at the Enlightenment table, without setting richer food alongside its meager fare. Our failure to contest Enlightenment individualism, for instance, has landed us in ludicrous heresies. Luther's classic doctrine of the priesthood of all believers is a case in point. It has been corrupted into the heretical and essentially Gnostic idea of the priesthood of the solitary believer. Instead of serving as priests to each other in obedience to our one High Priest (and thus engage in the radically communal life of the church and its institutions), each individual is supposed to become his own priest.

Wow! I think Wood is dead-on. To read the entire article, go here. Most teaching on the priesthood of every believer focuses on how "each of us" is our own "priest" unto God -- the old priestly system was done away with in Christ. In fact, taken to its logical conclusion, it seems like this kind of individualism-influenced priesthood actually encourages people to overly privatize their faith, and to see themselves as an authority unto themselves. Autonomous spirituality results, devoid of community entaglements! Is THIS is what WE have done to ourselves! Arrggh!

As priests within the new covenant, followers of Jesus have the responsibility and priviledge of ministering not only to God but to one another in order to encourage and build each other up. Isn't that the whole point of receiving the charismata, the spiritual gifts? Christianity isn't meant to be a private religion. Our faith is meant to be discovered, nurtured, and expressed within the context of community -- within the body of Christ. Here are some questions that come to mind:

• Old Testament priests sought God on behalf of others. Do we?
• Old Testament priests worked together in performing a variety of tasks for the common good. Do we?
• Old Testament priests took their special calling to minister very seriously. Do we?

Can you think of other characteristics of a biblical priesthood that we as New Testament priests may be neglecting?