Raw and Raving -- The New Religious

It all started with Henry Rollins from Black Flag, a hardworking punk rock band from the 1980s and beyond.  There he was at the front of Dominion-Chalmers United Church, a brass celtic cross behind him, and a soaring sky-light dome above him.  I should of known a force of nature was about to blast on to the stage when the guy who introduced Rollins warned us to use the facilities now! because the spoken-word performance would be two-and-a-half hours.  I thought, "How can anyone talk non-stop for that long?"  But it didn't take long to realize that Rollins could talk non-stop for hours as long as he had an audience that will listen.  He talked about touring, playing in Black Flag, getting older, answering his fan's emails, making a documentary for National Geographic, wrestling crocodiles, drinking cow urine, political campaigns, homophobia, his opposition against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, traveling to North Korea to see it for himself, and encouraging the young people in the audience to create the century they want.  I felt like a power, a spirit I might say, was pinning me to my pew, raising my heart rate and hoping he'd never stop talking.  That night I believe Rollins, a self-professed atheist, had more gospel in him than I do in my little finger.

That's kinda scary given I've been a preacher of the gospel for over 16 years.  It was his energy, his sheer force of character, his no bullshit, no holds barred, truth telling.  I'm glad I was there with my husband, a punk rocker the original time around who also happens to be the minister of this church. He was able to peel me off the pew and guide me like a blind woman to our car.  All I could think was "that's the kind of preaching I'd like to be able to do."

Not sure what the Spirit's blowing around this warm June, but that was only a portent of what was to come.  A few days later, I was in Toronto attending a conference and spreading the gospel of art as a spiritual vehicle.  Nice, but an appetizer to the main course I had the next day.

Enter Paul Browning, a United Church minister in London, Ontario, who plays a mean piano, sings like a rock star, and cares a lot about Jesus.  He talked about his last chance United Church, a church willing to go on an adventure with him.  Before he agreed to go there, he gave them his vision.  "When you're at a family dinner, who do you take care of first?  The children.  If your grandson tells you he's getting married to his boyfriend, and even if you don't agree with his decision, would you go?  Yes, you'd go.  In families, do you all like the same music?  No, and that's okay.  In families, do you all eat the same food? No.  So if you want a healthy church, you'll accept each other as you are WITHOUT COMPLAINING!"

So Paul builds a church based on one rule -- the Golden Rule.  You can believe anything you want as long as you treat others as you want them to treat you.  Kindness and respect are the measure of membership.  A woman came to him and said she was a Pagan.  "That's okay," he said.  They have Christians, Zoroastrians,  Buddhists, atheists, agnostists, and not sures.  They now call their church Trinity United Church and Community Centre.  No one pays to use the space and free will offerings are only a suggestion.  Music is supplied by a band and the service centers on the children for the first 40 minutes.  Their local city Councillor recently praised them as a force for good in their neighbourhood, describing their ministry in his regular newsletter.

Four days later, I'm in Shakori Hills, North Carolina at the Wild Goose Festival.  My ears are still buzzing from Henry and Paul and I feel there's a wild fire about to burn.  Well, I was so right!!!!

Wild Goose is a celtic metaphor for the wildness of the spirit and man, it was definitely raw and raving.  The number one message: people are tired of mean Christians.  Phyllis Tickle said it.  Brian McLaren said it.  Frank Shaeffer said it.  Phil Madeira, guitarist for Emmy-lou Harris and the producer of a great album called, "Mercyland: Hymns for the Rest of Us," said it.

In small group Bible discussions, it was said. Poetics were writing poems about it.  One poet from Australia actually had a poem in which he confessed all the horrible things that Christianity had done.

The music by Agents of Future, from Portland, Oregon, and David Wimbish and The Collection, from Greensboro North Carolina, spoke of faith irreverently and poignantly.  With pulsating drums and multiple instruments a la Arcade Fire, song lyrics were more shouted than sung.  But oh, the passion, the joy.

Social justice, especially restorative justice in the American prison system, was on the front burner.  So were the arts, praying with paint and canvas.  Walking a peace labyrinth with a piece of barbed wire in your hand.   And it was just downright fun.  Beer and Hymns was magical as we sang at the top of our lungs, a hymn sheet in one hand and a glass of Fullsteam beer in the other. 

Their were more dreadnaughts and tattoos and piercings than I've seen in a long time.  And the children...they danced, and ran through a fire hose on their way to the slip and slide, played hide and go seek, and made prayer cards. 

It was raw and a bit raving but people were fed up with Christians that think they have a right to all the resources in the world.  At this festival, kindness and deep respect for others was the only rule.  As Melvin Bray said at the beginning, "If you've come to this festival with a hard-line position that you want to get across, you should treat this gathering as a silent retreat."  No one was there to convince or to prove they followed "correct" thinking. 

A motley crew of wise elders, old hippies, aging punk rockers, recovering fundamentalists, families of all colours with children of all ages were here to blow all the barriers down.  It might be a fleeting glimpse of what the new religious looks like but it all happened in the same month in three far-flung places.

Raw and raving and heart warming and wonderful and it's about time!

  

This sermon was preached at Dominion-Chalmers United Church on June 10, 2012.  It was the 100th anniversary of the laying of the cornerstone of the Chalmers Presbyterian Church, which later became Chalmers United Church. It was also the 50th anniversary of the amalgamation of Chalmers United Church and Dominion United Church. 

“Shifting Foundations”                  Ezra 3: 10-13; Mark 13: 1-8

by Rev. Dr. Christine Johnson

There’s a lot of intrigue when it comes to the building of the second temple in Jerusalem.

One king gives a decree that it’s okay for the Jewish people to build,

                then the next one withdraws it and so the building is stopped,

                then the next one goes into the archives and finds the original decree,

                and the building is resumed.

If you read the entire book of Ezra, you’ll soon discover

this construction project is way bigger than the materials,

                or the money,

                or the expertise to build it. 

You see, these people had lost the first temple, the temple built by Solomon.

This great temple had been destroyed by invading armies and

the leaders of the Jewish people dragged away to Persia.

The Jewish people not only lost their temple,

                they lost their freedom, their dignity, their religion, and their gathering place.

So, when modern people say, “a church is only bricks and mortar”

                I point them back to this story.

A church is about the people who are in it, the work they are doing,

                the people who have been part of it, and the people who will be part of it in the future.

A building is a tool,

                a tool for freedom, for dignity, for religion, a gathering place of God’s people.

For 100 years, this building has stood as a beacon of God’s light in the world.

For 100 years, it has been a gathering place for Christians who are seeking solace,

                or education, or fun, or friends.

For 100 years, Dominion-Chalmers United Church has welcomed the stranger,

                fed the hungry and clothed the naked.

In this building, an amalgamation was born out of the tragedy of a devastating fire.

For 50 years, the people from Dominion United joined the people of Chalmers United,

one traditionally Methodist,  the other traditionally Presbyterian,

to form a new downtown ministry.

For 50 years, the legacies of these two dynamic churches have become your legacy.

An anniversary such as this is a great time of celebration,

                and also an excellent time for reflection.

For today, we’re not just celebrating a fine building with all its accoutrements.

We’re celebrating the hard work and tenacity of the people of God

                to be open to God’s spirit working in the world.

And so as much as the building is a tool and an anchor

                there’s a temptation for us to forget that the doors are not to be locked against the hoards,

                but to serve as an invitation, a gateway into the heart of God.

I think this was Jesus’ point as he walked outside the temple in Jerusalem.

The building of this new third temple had only begun in Jesus’ lifetime.

The first temple, built by Solomon, had been destroyed.

And the second temple, built with  the purse of King Cyrus of Persia,

                had also been destroyed.

Jesus knew the precarious history of the temples of Jerusalem,

                and had seen first-hand what a religious building can do to its religious leadership.

Jesus lamented  the greed of the temple priests,

                the perversion of laws that were a barrier to healing and peace,

                the lust for power and control,

                the rejection of the poor and unclean.

He knows that trouble is coming and it won’t be pretty.  

He knows there will be war and rumours of wars,

                nation rising against nation,

                earthquakes, and famines.

Yes, he says, this temple will fall,

                but that’s when new birth takes place.

As DCUC celebrates this milestone, and as your friends from GSJ, know all too well,

                the gift of a building, 

                a gift given to future generations by hardworking and God-loving people,

                is both a blessing and a curse.

For 100 year old buildings have arthritis in the knees and bulging discs in its spine.

The roof leaks, even when it’s just been repaired.

The drainage system around the foundation gets old and has to be replaced.

Paint needs refreshing and furniture replaced.

Heating bills have to be paid and stained glass windows re-leaded.

And so now is the moment when we ask

                the most important question of all.

Why do we take care of our buildings and pour our heart and soul into them?

If you say because they’re beautiful,

                I can show you a lot of beautiful buildings.

If you say ‘I want to have a place for my funeral,

                or for my children’s marriages,

                or to baptize my children,’ there are churches on every corner for that purpose.

If you say I want to honour my ancestors,

Jesus said “let the dead bury the dead.”

If you say I want to preserve the building for the future,

                Jesus said “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”

What would be good reasons to pour our heart and soul into our buildings?

If you say God longs for us to use this building as a tool of love, compassion and caring,

                you’re on the right track.

If you say God wants us to be a physical and real presence of grace in the downtown core of Ottawa,

                I’m listening.

If you say we want to use our building to facilitate healing, wholeness and good relationships,

                mmmm, you’re on to something really good.

If you say, we can offer this facility for all the arts groups in the city to share the creative gifts

 because we believe the arts are an expression of God’s inspiration,

                let’s talk.

If you say, by preaching a real gospel in response to real needs,

                I’d say, “Hallelujah.”

If you say, this building serves God’s purposes at this time and in this particular place,

                in the national’s capital, in the shadow of Parliament Hill,

                I’d say, “Yes, you’ve got it.”

I’m always listening to anti-building arguments.

We have too many.

They’re too big.

We spend too much money on them.

We worship our buildings.

Our buildings stop us from doing good ministry...and the list goes on and on.

It is true,

                the foundations of our faith are shifting.

We just don’t have large groups of people flocking to our churches.

It is hard to pay the bills,

                to resist the temptation to want to preserve our buildings for its own sake.

The whole Christian church is undergoing a great deal of upheaval.

Sunday morning is not longer the sacred hour.

Missiologists tell us to get out of our buildings and into the street. 

New music, new worship forms, new ways of expressing our faith

                run up against a lot of resistance from tradition and traditionalists.

In fact, one term that has been used to describe this is “the worship wars.”

Whenever you purchase a house, or any building,

                it is wise to spend extra money on a building inspector.

One of their main jobs is to determine whether the foundation is sound.

The last thing you want when buying a new house,

                are cracks in the foundation, or shifting foundations.

Without a sound foundation, the rest of the house is vulnerable to major damage.

So, today, as we celebrate the milestone of 100 years in this building,

                as we celebrate 50 years of amalgamation,

                all of us need to answer this question as well.

Are we on a firm foundation?

Is it sound?

There will always be mixed feelings about buildings.

In the book of Ezra,

                at the moment the cornerstone is laid,

                the sounds of joy and crying are mixed together in such a way

                “that the people could not distinguish the sounds of the joy

 from the sound of the people’s weeping.”

The elders lamented the loss of the first temple,

and the exiled generation, the ones who had never seen the temple,

were overjoyed to see the temple rise again.

As Dominion-Chalmers goes forward into its future,

                this verse might serve to remind all of you that it was never easy,

                                nor will it be now.

And yet, no matter the emotion,

                whether joy or sorrow,

                they cared.

They cared so much that the sounds mingled and were indistinguishable

                ‘for the people shouted so loudly that the sound was heard far away.’

In the year of our Lord, 2012,

                in a world of computers and instant communication,

                does this building serve God’s purposes rather than our own?

Do you care so much, whether joy or sorrow, that you’re willing to make some noise?

God’s purposes are the rock upon which true life is built.

If this church is built on the sands of our own egos,

                it will come crumbling down. 

So, it’s not about the money, or the beauty, or the rites of passage,

                it’s not about the concerts, or church functions, or endless meetings.

If this building is built on the rock of God’s spirit of love and forgiveness,

                it will stand forever.

And if there’s troubles, or challenges, or cultural earthquakes,

                take heart, for these might just be the beginning of the birth pangs

                of something new and wonderful

and so amazing that we won’t want to miss a thing.

 

                 

               

Affirming Church Celebration

On the evening of Sunday, June 3, a historic event took place at our church.  Although affirming (small a) for a long time, Glebe-St. James United Church became an Affirming (large A) Ministry.  All that means is there's an organization in the United Church of Canada that helps congregations go through a process of learning and discernment regarding issues of sexual orientation, and other isms that have created barriers for persons entering the Christian church.  This organization, called Affirm United, oversees a program at the end of which the congregation votes on an Affirming Vision Statement.  If the vote is positive, the congregation then designs an Ongoing Action Plan to work for justice in these areas.  Once all the requirements are fulfilled, Affirm United confers on us the designation of an Affirming Ministry, and we join an official network of Affirming Ministries throughout Canada.

On Sunday night we had a great service and reception to celebrate this milestone.  Here's my sermon from that evening.

“The 3-D Life”                                    Acts 10: 34-48

 by Rev. Dr. Christine Johnson

There was something in the words of Jesus that compelled Peter and all the disciples

                to carry on his work beyond his death.

This is clear in the scripture passage from Acts.

Jesus’ ministry starts in Galilee, then spreads throughout Judea, and then beyond.

By the time Peter preaches this sermon,

                he is calling all nations to understand the peace that Jesus preached,

                and to participate in the healing that comes when we seek forgiveness for our sins.

It’s too bad that throughout history, Christians took a three-dimensional message

                and conveniently collapsed it into two dimensions.

What I mean is this.

We went from no partiality with all its edges, bumps and grooves

to partiality with its uniformity and predictability.

We went from preaching Jesus as judge, a judge of fairness and justice,

                to appointing ourselves as judge, judges full of self-interest and prejudice.

We went from understanding repentance as the route to forgiveness,

                to setting up a cultural code which laid out unforgivable sins.  

Said in another way...

                Jesus is often painted in two-dimensions, flattened,

                                so there’s only a few angles from which you can view him.

What we need is a 3-dimensional Jesus, sculpted in all his height, depth, width and mass.

Then, we can see Jesus from below, from beside, from underneath, from above.

If we were to hold Jesus, there would be weight.

If we were to touch Jesus, there would be texture.

When you think about three dimensions, say in the case of a piece of sculpture,

                where you stand makes a difference in how you see the piece.

So, too with a three-dimensional Jesus,

each one of us sees Jesus from a particular viewpoint,

                from a particular contextual and cultural reality.

Today, we are naming and claiming and celebrating those particular contexts.

Today, each one brings to our faith a particular story,

                our place of origin, our language, our life’s work,

                our family life, our relationships, our sexuality, our physical characteristics.

Today, we are celebrating the fact that we are all welcome at the table,

                and the particular viewpoint with which we see Jesus really matters.

Just as Christians have flattened Jesus into two dimensions,

                it also happens to us.

We get define by a couple of descriptors and all else falls by the wayside.

Some of us get defined by the colour of our skin

                to the exclusion of all our other dimensions.  

Some of us get defined and ghettoised by our sexuality.  

Some of us get defined by our gender,

                and are expected to fulfill tightly defined roles.

Some of us get defined by our class,

                as if money determines everything.

Some of us get defined by our size,

                tall, short, narrow or wide.

Some of us get defined by our physical challenges

                and expected to lump the inaccessibility of most of our buildings.

Some of us get defined by our educational level,

whether no education or the recipient of an advanced degree.   

But you know as well as I do,

                that we are three-dimensional beings.

We are our ethnicity, our sexuality, our gender, our class, our size,

                our physicality, and our intellect.

We are all of these --

                complex, interesting, infuriating, and often, beautiful.

Each one of us has depth, height, width, mass

                and there is no one vantage point that tells the full story of who we are.

For me, this is why I’ve been involved in the Affirming Process.

Not because it’s perfect.  (I’ve heard lots of fair criticisms).

Not because it’s the only way.  

(I’ve heard about a number of congregations who name and claim their inclusivity explicitly.)

Not because I think it makes a congregation “better” than another.

                (This is an important caution.)

No, I’ve been involved because for some congregations this is a good way to struggle together,

                to name our own partialities, and our own propensity for judging others

                to name what we’ve assumed are unforgivable sins,

                and then to take one baby step, and perhaps another, and another towards healing the world.

Tonight, we’re not celebrating a title, or the end to an interesting process,

                we’re celebrating a faith that names and claims a three-dimensional Jesus.

We’re celebrating a faith that names and claims us as children of God,

                in all the beauty and complexity God gave us.

We’re celebrating a faith that says there’s no partiality,

                there’s no judge other than justice,

                there’s no unforgivable sins.

We are saying that death in all its racist, sexist, homophobic, classist forms,

                in all the ways we’ve degraded persons with physical or mental disabilities,

                in all the ways we’re created barriers that set us apart,  

                will not have the final say.

The resurrection of Jesus teaches us that no tomb

can stop us from celebrating our faith and working together for the common good.

               

This is not easy.  In fact, it’s probably downright impossible.

But it’s our faith, and it’s crazy and wonderful.

And that’s what we’re celebrating tonight.

In our own way, in our own time, warts and all,

                we will say loud and clear,

                all are welcome, all are welcome in this place.

The Fathering Life

This sermon was preached on June 3.  I wanted to do a sermon that celebrating the fathering instincts that we all have.  Since I am to be away on the actual official Father's Day, I moved up my sermon to Trinity Sunday.  Here it is.

“The Fathering Life”                                                        John 3: 1-17

by Rev. Dr. Christine Johnson

For those who might be confused by my title,

                I gave a sermon on Mother’s Day called “The Mothering Life.”

And so, to be fair, I felt the need to prepare a parallel sermon called “The Fathering Life.”

My premise, in the first sermon,

                was to explore the quality of mothering that transcends gender.

All of us, male and female, married or single, are called to be mothers at some point in our lives.

As Christians, as disciples seeking to be at one with God,

                what does our faith say to this way of being? 

For more details, I have it posted on my blog, which is available through our website.

I felt so compelled to honour my commitment

                that I’m preaching this sermon today because I won’t be here on Father’s Day.

So fair’s fair and here I am and all I can say is this,

                “Am I out of my cotton pickin’ mind??!!”

I mean, as much as mothering can transcend gender,

                I’m still a woman and a mother.

In writing about The Mothering Life,

                I have an intimate knowledge of my subject matter.

When it comes to the topic of today, I have to admit that I found myself floundering.

Yes, I have a dear father, and I’ve known lots of fathers,

                but what is at the heart, the core of the fathering life?

And how is it different from mothering?

These are tough questions and I have to acknowledge

                I’m not sure I’ve discovered anything conclusive.

I’m grateful, however, for the help of my friends,

                who have graciously tried to offer their perspectives.

What struck me first off is that fathers don’t have to talk in order to communicate.

Love and relationship can happen at the foot of a car engine,

                or out in a field,

                or while you’re driving in a car each looking out opposite windows.

The fathering life is about togetherness that simultaneously honours difference.

For my husband James, who is also a father to three boys,

                you can identify fathers by the way they help their children build their Cub cars.

There’s the father that let’s their child do it all themselves.

There’s the father that does it all for the child, so that it’ll be perfect.

And then there’s the father that shows the child how to use the proper tools,

                and has the wounds to prove they held the car while the child used those tools.

You can always tell, says James, which children with their cars belong to which fathers.

So fathers, I believe, are the ones that show us the tools of life.

It could be a wrench, or a screwdriver,

                or it could be a computer or a book.

The fathering life, in a Christian sense, is about teaching the skills

                and then allowing the child to make mistakes. 

If you’re thinking, well mothers do that too,

                I agree, although I might frame it differently.  

When women take on this role,

                they’re actually moving from the mothering life into the fathering life.

So a single mom,

                who one day takes care of her child seeking the intimacy that mothers crave,

                will also sometimes have to be the keeper of the tools,

                                the teacher and the guide.

There will be days when working on a project together,

                without a lot of idle chatter.

I know this is a bit of a puzzle,

                kind of like our reading for today.

Nicodemus comes to Jesus acknowledging him as a wisdom teacher.

Jesus tells Nicodemus that no one can know the kingdom of God

                without being born from above.

Nicodemus takes this literally,

                wondering how anyone can be born again.

Jesus corrects him, however,

                when he says this birth is about water, a symbol of new life,

                and the spirit, a symbol of the breath that sustains life.

For me, fathering is the way of the spirit,

                in which the tools for learning about life are constantly being renewed.

That’s why single men and women who have never given birth to a child,

                or who have never been guardians of a child,

                can still participate in the fathering life.

For when we are in relationship with another person,

                and we’re willing to share our tools and teach others how to use them,

                it allows their spirit to be re-born to new possibilities.

Fathers are always helping us to see new vistas,

                to forge unknown rivers,

                to build bridges of care and concern.

When we think of God as a father, this is the characteristic that comes to mind.

God, through the Spirit, is always inviting us to be better human beings.

And that’s why fathers who have hurt their children

                have not lived the fathering life.

If fathers put their own needs and wants before the children of the world,

                they are not helping them build anything, let alone a Cub car.

If fathers ignore their children, or are intent on controlling their children,

                this is just bullying masquerading as parenting.

Fathering, in a spiritual sense, is so much more nuanced 

                than telling your children what they should think and do.

Fathering is about helping others see that love is the only tool

                that leads to eternal life.

Fathering is not about judgement or condemnation,

                but healing.

My brother-in-law, who I’ve always known as a doer rather than a talker,

                once told me something I’ve never forgotten.

He was lucky enough to live just down the road from his own mother and father.

As they aged, his father had serious health problems.

When my brother-in-law retired from teaching,

                he was able to visit them almost every morning

                                in order to have a coffee sitting around their kitchen table.

He told me, “You know, a lot of people talk about quality time as opposed to a quantity of time. I think they have that backwards.  I think it’s about quantity, just taking the time to be together.”

As I said in my other sermon,

                I’m not trying to put a guilt trip on anyone,

                                and I know that we have more time at different stages of our lives.

No one is perfect, nor am I suggesting that perfection is our goal.

These ideas are guideposts along the way of life,

                as we all work together to heal the world.

I believe that fathering,

                this skill which helps to open the space between two people and allow us to develop,

                is very undervalued in our world.

We often want the quick fix,

                the instant answer,

                the simple remedy,

                                rather than discerning what’s really important in life,

                                and allowing it to unfold in its own good time.

I can’t help but think of my own father who knew how to hold the space together,

                and when things sometimes fell apart,

                                he never fell apart.

Somehow, God gave him the strength and the courage and the wisdom

                to know when to speak and when to stay silent.

To me, this is the greatest gift the fathering life has to offer all of us. 

Not to be silent and stoic for the sake of appearing strong, that’s not my point.

But, to be willing to be open to the spirit,

                so that love can build what is truly eternal.

There have been so many men and women in my life who have shown me this.

And for that, I am so grateful.

This is how I experience God the father,

                as opposed to God the mother.

The fathering life, like the mothering life, is a life of love,

                but in a different way.

A mother doesn’t want any space to separate her from her children

                and a father knows that space is an absolute necessity.