Ever since I first heard this song by Casting Crowns, I haven't been able to get the lyrics to the chorus out of my mind.

'Cause they make me wonder....

But if we are the body, why aren't His arms reaching?  Why aren't His hands healing? Why aren't His words teaching?  And if we are the body, why aren't His feet going?  Why is His love not showing them there is a way?

(If We Are the Body, by Mark Hall, copyright 2003)

A couple of recent posts on my last installment on this topic has had me thinking some more about wearing a clerical collar.  Here's what Father Deacon Raphael (fdr) had to say:

We Orthodox have a slightly different take (of course).

First, the "collar" is not really Orthodox. Some Orthodox jurisdictions disdain it completely, others have embraced it, but most see it as an alternative to traditional clergy attire. The Riassa or cassock....usually black.

2nd, there is no "option." We are supposed to wear it at all times, because we are always a deacon, a presbyter, a bishop. It is not a way to get people to notice you....although they do. Its an obedience. And while it often has the advantages talked about in this post and comments, it has its disadvantages. You can never just "blend in."

...Bottom line, even though I work a secualr job (which has its own uniform), I strive to obediently wear my cassock (or collar) at all times in the community. I can never forget I am a servant in the house of the Lord....pretty humbling thought.

This hit me pretty hard.  It's the thought that a clerical collar points to one's calling and responsibility -- something we can't "turn on" or "turn off" as we choose.

I wonder how often evangelicals (like me) are glad for the relative annonymity we so often live in?  I for one have certainly been guilty in the past of not wanting, any distinguishing marks on my vehicle (e.g. decal, license plate frame) alerting people to my faith and profession (I say this with shame).  Choosing to wear a clerical collar only during hospital visits or funerals (mentioned in the comments to previous posts) is one thing; but those who choose to wear the collar regularly choose to forfeit their annonymity on a daily basis (or at least whenever they're in public).  I respect that.  It has me pondering the commitment I may need to make if I choose to don the collar.

What are your thoughts?

Over the past week, I've been in the Navajo Nation -- and not able to blog.  A team of teens and adults from our church partnered with an independent Navajo congregation in reaching out to some of their area's poor and needy.

Lacking electricity, gas, and in many cases -- basic health care -- our visits were sobering lessons for we who are generally insensitive to our own affluence.

The desire to reach out to native Americans has always been a strong desire of mine.  And like many of my previous trips to the reservation, this week's visit was filled with reminders of the injustice these people suffered as a result of our nation's obsession with western expansionism.

Feeding the poor here is always an honor -- a tangible way to demonstrate the love of Christ and keep the ongoing work of reconciliation alive.  "One-shot" attempts at this abound among evangelical groups (often as an attempt to appease guilty consciences) - but few are those ministries or communities of faith that maintain this commitment over the long-haul.

And so this has got me thinking...

When we attempt to bring about reconciliation with people we care about (whoever they may be), are we willing to stick with it -- repeating our overtures and initiatives?  Or... are we prone to absolve ourselves of any further resonsibility once we've made an honest attempt?

The postmodern world in which we live is unashamedly syncretistic.  It's a phenomenon found, not only within the Church, but out in the culture-at-large...something I recently pointed out in reference to the movie: What the Bleep Do We Know?

Syncretism long has been, and will likely remain a significant problem within the Church -- something I've also blogged about before.

But here's the question that's been troubling me:

Are church leaders (both inside and outside the emerging church) practicing a kind of selective syncretism? 

Are we quick to condem certain practices in our worship gatherings (e.g. the celebration of patriotic nationalism) while affirming other practices (e.g. the use of movie clips, or promoting superbowl viewings)?  And if we are, what standards or principles are guiding us in doing so?

The images in this series have not been posted in any particular order, or with any strong "agenda" in mind.  Yes, I've been aware of the likelihood that some of the images would provoke negative sentiments, but I've also been surprised that some which I thought would be viewed as positive were, in fact, viewed differently (or vice-versa).  Together, they do not present a comprehensive or complete picture of protestant evangelicalism.  Despite this, I think they've succeeded in stimulating some fascinating discussion.  Well anyway, Thursday's post will be the final image in this series.  Thanks, everyone, for having made it so interesting.

As a child of the 70's, I grew up on the "ministry of every believer" constantly being emphasized in church.  This occurred in concert with the cry to elimate the clergy-laity distinction that had so characterized the church of the past.

Revelation 1:6 (NAS) -- "and He has made us to be a kingdom of priests to His God and Father..."

I rejoiced in this, that all believers were now priests unto God in Christ, thus elimating the need for human intermediaries.  And yet human intermediaries remained: the pastor, who spoke on God's behalf at weddings and funerals; the prophet, who revealed God's heart to his people; the teacher, who illuminated and explained the mysteries of the scriptures.

And while scripture affirms the egalitarian nature of the body of Christ (e.g. 1 Cor.12:12-13), it also abounds with examples of individuals, uniquely called and placed in positions of leadership and responsiblity for others.

1 Timothy 3:1 (RSV) -- "The saying is sure: whoever aspires to the office of bishop desires a noble task."

Hebrews 13:7 (NIV) -- "Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls and will give an account..."

The paradoxes of scripture have always fascinated me, and this one is no exception.  The ministry of every believer is a critically important doctrine that still needs to be expounded upon within our communities of faith.  Yet, I'm wondering how modern, cultural individualism, may have undermined the uniqueness of the clergy.

Six years ago, I entered the Free Methodist family of faith.  One of the things I love about our denomination is the balance between having equal numbers clergy and laity in its administrative boards at every level (local, conference, national), while at the same time strongly affirming its episcopal form of church governance.

After 30 years of pastoral ministry,  I've come to more deeply appreciate and be awed by the unique privilege of serving as a minister/pastor/priest.  I celebrate the diversity of "ministries" that God calls the members of his body to, and I've never let go of the belief that while we all have different occupations, we share a common vocation as ministers.  However, the scriptures present a clergy-laity reality that is not radically egalitarian. Men and women do occupy positions of responsibility for others, and are vested with an authority to carry out that responsibility.

Yes, we live in an age of horrible abuses by members of the clergy (mental, spiritual, sexual, financial).  But such offences should spur us on to redeem the holy offices of deacon, pastor, bishop, rather than dispense with them.  In the corner of God's kingdom where I grew up, we need to re-affirm the sacredness of the clergy-laity distinction -- not for the purpose of marginalizing or victimizing others, but in order to affirm and nurture the godly, competant leaders our spiritually-hungry society needs.

Frequently, Protestant Evangelical worship takes place in cross-cultural settings.

Despite the photo's graininess, I was deeply moved by this image.

Some people consider Dan Brown, author of The DaVinci Code and Angels and Demons to be nothing more than a Catholic-bashing, Christian-hating pagan.

And if all that's true, it makes the impassioned speech delivered by one of Brown's characters in Angels and Demons all the more remarkable.  So when you've got 10 min. to spare, read the following excerpt and then leave your impressions or comments concerning the cultural-spiritual insights contained in this amazing speech penned by the author.