I think the answer is no. We’re learning how to anticipate, but we’ve got plenty of room to grow in learning to feast.

We turned off all lights and unplugged all non-essential electrical devices. We lit some candles and put them on our coffee table. And we talked. It was such a wonderful experience, we’re thinking about doing it each week as part of our observance of Sabbath, an area of spiritual practice where we have plenty of room for growth!

During and after Earth Hour, a couple of observations came to mind:

1. I was amazed by how bright our neighborhood is. Several of our neighbors have lights in their back yards that could alternately be used in a prison facility. For some reason, folks in our little suburban enclave like to light up vacant back yards. I was amazed at the amount of this light that spilled into our house. How much energy could be saved by simply turning off those lights?
2. It’s noisy. Perhaps lessened light leads to greater sensitivity to sound. I found myself noticing how many cars pass by our house and how noisy they are…a persistent low drone in the background. It seems that we are always running hither and thither, except on Sundays.
3. Light and sound is stimulating. Sometimes I find easy access to the internet and bright lighting to be an enemy to real relaxation. During our Earth hour sabbatical, I found myself experiencing a deeper level of relaxation and also wondering what it would be like to spend a week in a cabin that didn’t have electricity…call me Walden. Sounds crazy, but my father grew up in a house in urban England in the 1940s (when my house was built) that had no electricity, limited gas for lights, and no inside bathroom. It isn’t that long ago that people did without those things we perceive of as necessity in West and, of course, there are countless people today who are in the same boat.

These last two years have provided much opportunity to learn and discuss theology. What is a sacrament? What do you believe about baptism and the Lord’s Supper? How does this differ from the other Christian churches? Good questions.

In the midst of the question asking and answer, I came across this quote from Orthodox Bishop Metropolitan Kallistos Ware. I found it encouraging and a helpful reminder that the essence of the faith is deeper than intellectual assent.

Christianity is not merely a philosophical theory or a moral code, but involves a direct sharing in divine life and glory, a transforming union with God, ‘face to face.’

Interestingly this quote from an Orthodox cleric reminded me of another quote from someone quite different. Henry Scougal (d. 1657) was a professor of Divinity at the University of Aberdeen. He died young. One of the gifts of his life was a book he wrote by the title of The Life of God in the Soul of Man.

[T]rue religion is a union of the soul with God, a real participation of the Divine nature, the very image of God is drawn upon the soul, or, in the apostle’s phrase, ‘it is Christ formed within us.’

Two men. Different Christian traditions. Different centuries. A common theme. The very hear of the Christian faith is union to God in Christ and participation in the divine life such that we are transformed in ever increasing measure into the likeness of Christ.

This is a likeness that extends to the very texture of our lives. It extends beyond our inward, private moral choices (there really is no such things as a private moral action for the Christian anyway). As Sam Wells has put it, “I assume that the Gospels were intended to be pondered, word by word, action by action, scene by scene, by communities seeking to embody their faith in Jesus in practical acts of discipleship in the world” (Power and Passon 17). As followers of Christ we are about embodied faith, belief that manifests itself in inner transformation and concrete expression.

This is the sort of faith that can flow out of witnessing communities and transform the world.

…No opinion can either be more pernicious or more absurd than that which brings truth and falsehood upon a level, and represents  it as of no consequence what a man’s opinions are. On the contrary, we are persuaded that there is an inseparable connection between faith and practice, truth and duty. Otherwise, it would be of no consequence either to discover truth or to embrace it.

The wording of this provision is strong and decisive. It is modified by the next provision, which brings (I think) a reasonable balance to it:

…While under the conviction of the above principle we think it necessary to make effectual provision that all who are admitted as teachers be sound in the faith, we also believe that there are truths and forms with respect to which men of good characters and principles may differ. And in all these we think it the duty of private Christians and societies to exercise mutual forbearance toward each other.”

Book of Order  G-1.0304-5

I realize that by doing this I am inviting very vehement disagreement from all sorts of people, especially those who stand in opposition to the bill. Be that as it may.

Perhaps one of the most grievous aspects of popular commentary on healthcare reform has been the repeated assertion that the bill socializes one sixth of the American economy. This is patently not true. The bill doesn’t establish an American equivalent to Britain’s National Health Service (NHS). The foundation of this reform remains private insurance, but makes significant alterations in how private insurance does business. It also provides a government-administered alternative to private insurance.

These are requirements that are intended to drive down the cost of health insurance (mandating coverage and expanding groups by outlawing discrimination based on pre-existing conditions to name two). For a more detailed summary of the legislation go here.

My take: Clearly this is not a mass takeover of the insurance industry but rather a very moderate approach to policing (regulating) the excesses of the insurance industry and providing alternative solutions for those for whom the traditional US insurance industry is basically unavailable. It’s unfortunate that the Republican party has chosen to retrench on this issue rather than engage the President and the Democratic party. This belligerence is, amongst several other more profound reasons, a contributing factor to my identification as an independent (in North Carolina, “unaffiliated”) voter. While I am pro-life, I cannot bring myself to cast this entire discussion and debate in terms of this issue. There is nothing in the legislation itself that materially alters the present U.S. policy of not using tax dollars to fund abortions and the willingness of President Obama to sign an Executive Order to guarantee that the law is not construed in such a manner as to vitiate this interpretation shows a pragmatism which is, I believe, laudable. In short, abortion is a great evil. But it is an evil that is predicated on presuppositions and ways of understand the self, community, life, and worth that are rooted in the very same constructs conservatives laud as what makes America “great” (viz., individualism, consumerism, to name just two).

It seems to me to be folly to select one profound evil to oppose, but to do so in the absence of a real and lively critique of the system out of which this issue has arisen. This is where the Catholic church provides a real and meaningful contribution to the life of the broader church and to society in general. This is one reason that I envision my political identity more in terms of distributivism than classical distinctions between the left and the right. More on distributivism here.

One Christian organization claimed that pro-life Democrats who voted “yes” to the legislation after President Obama’s concession in the form of an Executive Order, had traded their birth right for a “mess of pottage.” I humbly submit that those who argue against healthcare on the basis of ad hominem, fear, and falsehood rather than standing in the great tradition of Christian moral reflection do no less.

• Try your best to get into a top program. Duh. Having worked at a couple of universities with top five PhD programs in certain disciplines, I can attest that graduates of these programs will get jobs.

• Try to be flexible in your choice of discipline, selecting one where there is demand. Duh. Economics is, for example, a discipline in which there is increasing demand for faculty. If you get into a good PhD program (not even an elite one) you will get interviews and you will get a job. One friend of mine in an econ program had 25 interviews. Certain types of history, for example, are also increasingly popular. Choose African-American history or Southern history…and go to a good program. The story isn’t the same for English and Philosophy students!

• If you absolutely must study something arcane and in low demand, be prepared to earn income other ways for a while. Learn a skill or gain a certification that will allow you to, say, teaching adjunctly and still make an adequate income. Or, think about alternative uses of your PhD. Consulting, writing, editing, come to mind.

My comments here have been practical to the point of almost being crass. I think we all bemoan the way we have allowed higher education to become a service industry. Unfortunately we have to live in light of that reality.

As we walked, we talked about why I don’t like going to the park with the kids. Its an area of real tension for me because I deeply believe that life in contemporary North America is eroding community by severing people from the places they actually live. We’re connected to people miles away by our phones, twitter, and other social media. However, we’re invisible and anonymous to those geographically proximate to us. In my utopia, the park would be the perfect place to converse with neighbors about the little things that make up life in Ardmore. Unfortunately, whenever I actually get to the park I’m confronted by a very different reality. In short, finding my way to this utopian vision is going to take some blood, sweat, and tears. Counter-cultural actions always do.

At least one of the reasons that what I believe should be the locus of community life has become anxiety-producing for me has to do with the lack of a common etiquette for the playground. I find this highly unsatisfactory.

What are the essential rules of etiquette for the play ground? It’s tempting to state it concisely as: “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The problem with this axiom is that it assumes that the other parents congregated around the playground have even as modicum of self-awareness and intelligence. Often both of these things seem lacking. The realist in me believes that this pithy, memorable axiom is fundamentally flawed.

Here is my short list of golden rules for the playground. I consider it my role as a father to be present and involved with Nathan and Eliza so that they abide by these and other rules so that they are formed into well-behaved children who are respectful of others.

1. It is never okay for a child of any age to reach into a stroller to touch an infant. Never. I will physically stop Nathan from touching an infant and I expect other parents to do the same, especially in the winter.
2. It is never okay for a child to push another child.
3. It is never okay to skip to the front of the line, even if the kid in front is slow. Let me restate that: especially when the kid in front is slow.
4. It is never okay to take another child’s toy and play with it as your own unless (a) you get their permission or (b) it is seemingly abandoned.
5. If your child is sick, don’t bring her to the playground. Play at home.
6. If you’re at the playground with your child, be a parent. It bugs me no end when a phalanx of mothers is on a “play date,” and essentially abandon their kids such that I as the parent actually playing with my child become a surrogate babysitter.

There are probably a bunch more that I could come up with? What’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to playground etiquette?

To help you achieve what was only previously possible by rolling the dice and using, gasp, a beard trimmer, Norelco has developed the perfect solution. A beard trimmer. But not just any beard trimmer, one that is designed with the most precise gradients of length so that you too can achieve Brian McClaren-esque stubble perfection.

So where’s the great idea in all of this? It’s interesting to me that Norelco is taking something as basic as a beard trimmer and re-branding it as something that will produce the perfect stubble. It creates the perception that all other trimmers are, well, there to cut stuff off whereas this piece of precision engineering exists to leave stuff on. I don’t know about you, but if I was a marketing MBA I would be pumped about this marketing master stroke. In our current consumer culture, the most important thing is creating products that connect with unique or niche users (as long as this niche is big enough to be profitable). Ergo: the beard trimmer for the man seeking the perfect stubble.

One of my concerns with the current evangelical way of worship is that it has become that which it decried, only a cheap and superficial copy of it. A glance at the bulletins of most evangelical churches will reveal a striking consistency in hymns and songs sung, especially focusing on a handful of popular songs that also crowd the airwaves on your local, “family friendly” Christian radio station. This is disturbing because it evinces a cultural narcissism that asserts that only that which is current and contemporary can speak to my situation.

What is more disturbing, however, is the extent to which the persona of the minister becomes entangled with the act of worship. Those moments of transition between singing and praying become little acts in which the minister’s personality, his winsomeness and humor, shine. Isn’t he funny? Isn’t he handsome? Isn’t he so relevant?

And so the words of men come to take pride of place. We protested against praying words written by men of deeper faith and keener intellect than the best of us. Prayers tried by the centuries rather than expressing the concerns of the moment. We substituted the trifle, the banal, and the superficial for the deep and resonant intonation of words that are prayed across the time and across the continents. How can this be wisdom?

I’d like to go on record as believing that I’d rather have a man of deep prayer and keen intellect as my pastor than the funniest, handsomest, most relevant modern. And until the broader evangelical church can become more aware of the wisdom of this, it will continue its slow descent into superficiality and the very irrelevance it so desperately wishes to avoid.

It is for good reason that the reformed tradition has emphasized the centrality of Scripture in forming the words we use in our liturgy. Scripture is God’s Word to the Church and it is therefore preferable to the words of men.

Note the words of the Westminster Confession of Faith (ch XXI):

The light of nature showeth that there is a God, who hath lordship and sovereignty over all, is good, and doth good unto all, and is therefore to be feared, loved, praised, called upon, trusted in, and served, with all the heart, and with all the soul, and with all the might.[1] But the acceptable way of worshiping the true God is instituted by himself, and so limited by his own revealed will, that he may not be worshiped according to the imaginations and devices of men, or the suggestions of Satan, under any visible representation, or any other way not prescribed in the Holy Scripture.[2]

1. Rom. 1:20; Psa. 19:1-4a; 50:6; 86:8-10; 89:5-7; 95:1-6; 97:6; 104:1-35; 145:9-12; Acts 14:17; Deut. 6:4-5
2. Deut. 4:15-20; 12:32; Matt. 4:9-10; 15:9; Acts 17:23-25; Exod. 20:4-6, John 4:23-24; Col. 2:18-23

It’s important to emphasize the centrality of Scripture in worship and the wisdom of using written prayers, especially those tried and true among the Church Universal. The uniting of a heart full of love and passion for God with Scriptural worship and wise prayers can, God willing, be a significant part of creating worship that is both pleasing to God and beneficial for His people.

Here’s a repost about the Ted Haggard scandlal. It makes a couple of observations about the ways in which we evangelicals have confused pastoral work with secular leadership. I’d also encourage you to check out Chris Erdmans article in the September 2000 volume of the Gospel and Our Culture Network’s newsletter. You can read it here.

When I opened CNN.COM this morning, my heart skipped a beat when I read the headline. Ted Haggard, prominent evangelical leader, president of the National Association of Evangelicals, and pastor of a 11,000 member megachurch had resigned his position. Charges had been levelled against him of almost monthly soliciting sex from a male prostitute. In addition, he admitted to having purchased methamphetamines–he claims, however, that he threw the drugs away.

This is troublesome news.

It makes me wonder about a couple of things. First, it reveals the inherent weakness of the cult of personality. Megachurch pastors are, almost of necessity, magnetic people who draw others to themselves. There have been religious personas in all of the major branches of Christianity. My mind goes to the late Bp Fulton Sheen, one of North American Catholicisms most able apologists and (I presume) their first television personality. I think also of Mother Angelica of the Eternal Word Television Network, a conservative Catholic network. But the megachurch pastor is most evident among Evangelicals and is, in some respects, a uniquely American phenomenon. It is, after all, only in a deeply religious nation that pastors can become celebrities.

What worries me is how easy it is to confuse a dynamic personality with godliness. It is perhaps easier to do among evangelicals who desire to hear “annointed” preaching. What makes the proclamation of the Gospel “annointed” is not the dynamism of the speaker, I would suggest, but the content of the message and the reception it receives. In other words, the messanger is not annointed so much as the message and the hearer are prepared to receive the Good News.

Second, it seems to me that a church of 11,000 people is too big. Ted Haggard, of necessity, took on some degree of celbrity status becuase he “built the church” to have so many members. God only knows how corrosive a statement that is. No. The church is not an 11,000 voluntary association marked by programs and buildings and lobbying. It is the new society of Christ Jesus. Pastors are shepherds and shepherds don’t wear Armani suits and make calls to the Whitehouse. They work in the muck and mire of life in a Fallen world. They preach the Gospel. They administer the Sacraments of Holy Communion and welcome little ones to the community of the Church through the rite of Christian baptism.

Lord, have mercy.