Contemporary Western society has virtually eliminated the once prevelent rite-of-passage and its welcoming of children into adulthood. Surprisingly, few people today realize that the entire concept of “adolescence” is a modern construct – only appearing in the last century. Prior to then, in nearly all cultures in all places at all times we observe a two-stage development of humanity: children and adults. Rather than children anticipating and preparing for his or her journey into adulthood (e.g. Jewish bar/bat mitzvah, Amish Rumspringa), it seems that contemporary culture is sending a double-message: "you're teenagers now and won't be adults for quite awhile," AND "we want you to go ahead and act like adults though, endulging yourselves in anything and everything."

What's up with that? Are we simply inept as parents? Or are parents so self-absorbed that they're just leaving children to "grow up" on their own? Or has our society become so radically egalitarian (everyone deserving the same benefits regardless of merit) that our children "deserve" to do all that we deserve to do?

Put simply: children are being pushed into adulthood sooner and sooner --especially girls. Set Hollywood aside for a moment. Just take a look in the girls clothing section of many popular department stories -- you're bound to find a plethora of sexually provocative clothing including thong panties and suggestive slogans. The days of "Little Mermaid" and "Sponge Bob" clothes are quickly disappearing. What in the world are we grooming them for??!!

As communities-of-faith, I believe we have been failing our children -- and continue to do so -- by no longer offering them a meaningful transition (along with its accompanying nurture and support) from being children to being adults. The majority of Western religious institutions no longer emphasize a rite-of-passage, and guess what? The secular world knows it! That's why (especially in the western U.S.) increasing numbers of young adults are now looking to Las Vegas as rite-of-passage.

Daniel at NeoTheo(b)log has once again taken up the (often controversial) topic of communion, and of particular interest is whether or not Holy Communion should be "open" (i.e. not withheld from non-members or those not having completed a related catechism). Anyway, the post reminded me of something I read a few years ago in Missional Church, A Vision for the Sending of the Church in North America. It's a bit long, but definitely worth your thoughtful consideration:

Shared meals construct and sustain human relationships. Inviting someone to share a meal powerfully symbolizes solidarity. Indeed, the word companionship comes from the Latin cum + panis, meaning "breading together." Meals are social realites of great importance. Because meals express the very texture of human associations, they often exhibit social boundaries that divide human communities. We make decisions about not only what we will eat but with whom we will eat. Patterns of table sharing reveal a great deal about the way of life -- the norms and commitments -- of a particular community.

Within the Gospels, Jesus' meal patterns receive special attention. Many of his critics observed that "this fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them" (Luke 15:1-2; Mark 2:15-17; Matt. 1:19). They were shocked and appalled that Jesus welcomed everyone to his table. His behavior indicated acceptance and friendship with those who had been judged unfit for table fellowship: the tax collector, the Gentile, the prostitute. His open invitation "manifested the radically inclusive nature of his kingdom, a kingdom that cuts across the barriers we erect between insiders and outsiders, the saved and the damned, the elect and the outcast -- barriers often most rigidly enforced at the table" (W.H. Willimon, The Service of God: How Worship and Ethics Are Related, 133).

In the Lord's Supper the followers of Jesus Christ are called to practice eating as he ate, to be a people of gratitude and generosity, of openness and acceptance. They are summoned to be a community where amazingly diverse people allow themselves to be formed by one Lord into one body around a common table. When our table is less than the fulness of Christ's invitation, we eat and drink judgment (cf. 1 Cor. 11:29).

--from Missional Community: A Vision for the Sending of the Church in North America, ed. by Darrell L. Gruder, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, pp. 164-165.

This is the question Lucas is asking at my four walls. You flat-out need to read his post (entitled, "the ever instructive playground"). Here's one of the many observations Lucas makes:

"we have become so preoccupied with relevance... with culture that we have forgotten what it means to be the church."

Many people have long made the connection between the quest-for-relevance and consumerism. Maybe it's me, but this just may be one of those truths that we emerging-church types are not yet willing to concede.

Today Paradoxology is honored to host Renee Altson, author of the just-released book, Stumbling Toward Faith: My Longing to Heal from the Evil that God Allowed (Zondervan/EmergentYS). If you haven’t read Renee’s book yet and would like a peek, you can download the opening segment here.

Stumbling Toward Faith is likely “unlike” any book you’ve read before. It is at the same time: story, tragedy, poetry, indictment, and confession – blended together into the nearly seamless expression of a human soul. That human soul – Renee Altson – is a remarkable person.

Many of us have encountered “hellish” experiences in our lives, but relatively few have had to endure the relentless abuse (sexual, emotional, spiritual) and pain that has characterized Renee’s journey. On a few occasions, I’ve referred to my own “year from hell.” It was the experience that opened my eyes in a new way to the theological problem of suffering (i.e. theodicy) – something, it seems, we’re constantly confronted with in today’s world.

While reading Renee’s book, I found myself needing to stop from time to time. The story of her suffering was often so tragic, so deeply unfair, that I personally found myself needing time to process, mourn, reflect, and pray… before continuing. After finishing Stumbling Toward Faith, I could not help but think of the words of poet John Keats (c.1819) who in describing the "why" behind the painful realities of life, wrote:

“Call the world if you Please ‘The vale of Soul-making.’”

And on that note, let’s move on and ask Renee a few questions, as she stops here today on her virtual book tour.

Chris --
Have your experiences helped you get any sort of handle on why God allows suffering, especially when it seems senseless or without purpose? And if so, what have you discovered?

Renee --
i wish i could say that i have been given some glimpse into purposeless or senseless suffering, but i haven’t. i have a litany of answers that i’ve collected over the years--they are sort of like little scraps of paper in a hat. when i’m feeling completely overwhelmed i sometimes like to pull them out and pretend they work, but they take a lot of effort to hold onto, and they don’t last. so mostly i am left without answers.

i think the one thing i know, at least the one thing that’s as close to “knowing” as i come, is that i don’t have to understand things in order to be loved. a lot of my struggle with god was an initial inability to trust god, an inability to let god into any part of my life. i couldn’t reconcile what happened with me with the trust i wanted to have. but i’ve learned (and am still learning) that god can still love me, even when i struggle with trust or with disbelief, and that this love isn’t dependent on how faithful i am.

i think my god is bigger than [he] used to be. this bigness makes it not so necessary for me to understand it all anymore. of course i want to, and it drives me crazy that i don’t have any instant answers, but it’s easier to simply let it be, and still have some bit of faith in the end, and to rest knowing that i am loved in spite of my lack of understanding.

Tomorrow will certainly be an exciting day here at Paradoxology, as author Renee Altson will be visiting with us about her just-released book, stumbling toward faith: my longing to heal from the evil that God allowed. If you haven't gotten a look at Renee's book yet and would like to, you can download the opening segment here, and take a look.

Renee's visit here is part of an extensive online book tour throughout the blogosphere, where she's visiting and blogging at a different site each day. Here's her itinerary over the next few days:

Today: Dry Bones Dance
Thursday: Paradoxology
Friday: living on both ends

I'll be interviewing Renee about her book, and will also be showcasing some of her art (she's also a gifted photographer). You won't want to miss it.

Have you noticed it too? That growing fascination with the Crucifix among Protestant Christians? What's behind all of it?

Yes, the postmodern world we live in is a very "visual" one. But is that the only reason why we Protestants are increasingly being drawn to representations of Christ on the Cross? In his book, Visual Faith, William Dyrness talks of the theology behind the visual expressions of our faith, and at the top of the list? The Incarnation.

What are your thoughts? Why this Protestant fascination with the Crucifix?

We've lost touch with any real, enduring sense of community.

Despite the "longing" for community that characterizes today's postmodern condition, I fear we may unknowingly be distancing ourselves... distancing ourselves by means of the event-oriented spiritually we continue to pursue.

A Fascination with Events --
This human attraction to "the event" is surely not a modern phenomenon. In thinking about this, my mind instantly conjures up pictures of a Roman arena, brimming with enthusiastic spectators. Maybe the "event" is more Western than we realize? But then again, there were probably scores of "spectators" among the crowds that followed Jesus too. Even the gospel writers seem to emphasize "events" within the life and ministry of Christ -- purposeful events, but events nonetheless. So I'm not suggesting that "events" are bad or evil or without worth. I'm just concerned by what I see as an "obsession" with the event, and how it is affects our spirituality and a sense of genuine community.

Ours is undeniably an entertainment-oriented culture that seems to promote "events" everywhere we look (e.g. season premieres, programable DVR "events", "DVD Tuesdays"). And that "event-mentality" seems to permeate all of life (e.g. sporting events, entertainment events, political events, sales events, etc., etc.) I think we've lost touch with what David Adam calls the Rhythm of Life.

Paradoxology is honored to host Author Renee Altson right here next Thursday (9/16/04), as she makes a stop here on her virtual book tour within the blogosphere. Her book, just released, is entitled stumbling toward faith: my longing to heal from the evil that God allowed. If theodicy fascinates you, if earthy and real poetry/prose entrigues you, or if you've ever wondered or struggled with why often God allows seemingly meaningless suffering -- you won't want to miss next Thursday. Besides her being a gifted and creative author and photographer, I'm privileged to consider Renee a friend.

Plan now to check-in next Thursday. It's going to be great!

Ahhh... The increasingly-desired-yet-somehow-elusive experience of the early 21st century: community!

We want it. We need it. But how do we get it? How can we experience it?

Those of us who have thought such things may eventually discover that we've been suffering from too much utopian ideology. We probably need a big dose of realism. This is what came to mind as I was reading through Reverberations of Faith, by Walter Brueggemann:

Maintaining the community required no doubt a mix of visionary passion and prudent management, a mixture that would produce endless tensions and require endless negotiations. By the end of the Old Testament period, the community at Qumran was termed ’ahad, ‘the one,’ the one unity of faith. That unity, however, was neither easily achieved nor easily maintained in stability, because its members were real people in the real world (p. 37).

The trick of community is to hold together real differences of interest in the midst of treasuring a passionate commitment to belong faithfully to one another (p. 37).

Sometimes brash and offensive...

Sometimes wise and sensitive...

Sometimes brave and courageous...

Sometimes cowardly and hypocritical...

The Church is a lot like Peter.
.

Jesus knew that Peter would one day deny him, but he saved his life anyway.

Jesus will do no less for his Church.