madavison

The heat index confirms that summer is still with us even though children, youth, teachers, and administrators have returned to school.  Family schedules are adjusting.  My neighborhood’s morning schedule has changed as commuters remind themselves to watch for kids crossing streets and waiting on the bus.

The last season of my sabbatical (July 15-August 16) was filled with travel, family, continuing education, and a bit of rest.  But before that, June and July were a whirlwind of activity focused around the campers and volunteers of our summer camp program.  This year, campers and counselors learned how peace works in their lives and the communities in which they live and move.  The summer season ended with Mission Camp Road Show which visited Texas City, TX to help with ongoing Hurricane Harvey recovery.  Oklahomans uniquely understand the longterm work of recovering from a natural disaster.  Learn more about what the group did and how they represented the “Oklahoma standard” by visiting the Region’s website.

During my last season of sabbatical, I was reminded of the difference between listening to get through a conversation or situation, and listening to hear.  That may seem like an odd description. It is the difference between thinking of your next reply in a conversation versus listening and absorbing what you are hearing from a person.  Listen, thoughtful pause to organize a thought or two, and then respond.  Listening is a skill.

When we begin to act by listening, the rest follows naturally. It’s not so easy, of course—it requires us to give up preconceived ideas, judgments, and desires in order to allow space to hear what is being said. True listening requires a deep respect and a genuine curiosity about situations as well as a willingness just to be there and share stories. Listening opens the space, allows us to hear what needs to be done in that moment. It also allows us to hear when it is better not to act, which is sometimes a hard message to receive.(1)

All the technology that is a part of life these days makes listening harder and sometimes easier.  Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook (just name dropping a few) give users the ability to share emotion and information faster, but does that mean we are listening to one another.  Sometimes we simply use the latest tech megaphone to shout, shout, shout about . . . (fill in the blank).  Complaining or throwing shade is easy via a device.  How often do you compliment via a device?

How is your “FOMO” today? Do you have a fear of missing out?  Is the idea of your favorite social media platform being offline a day or a week a gift or does it induce your favorite unconscious stress activity?  Listen to yourself.  Listen to yourself for a day or a week.  What themes are you hearing in the posts you share or actual words you say out loud?

An experiment.  Don’t post in your social media platforms for a week.  Rather, listen to and through the words of people in the stream of your social media platforms.  Keep a journal of those words, ideas, and feelings.  What thoughtfully challenges your assumptions?  What is intended to play on your emotion?  What affirms your humanity and that of others?  What is marketed to you?

I don’t think to be counter-cultural means “drop out.” We can, like Jesus did, take time away to recalibrate and rediscover how to be “hard on issues and soft, compassionate on people.”(2) . The tough part is to disassociate the issue from the person.

Note

1. Mirabai Bush, “When Listening is the Most Radical Act.” gratefulness.org (August 29, 2019) [https://gratefulness.org/resource/why-listening-is-the-most-radical-act/]
2. A phrase used at the Mediation Training that I attended sponsored by the Lombard Mennonite Peace Center.  “Hard on issues and soft on people” has been lost in our culture.

When has collaborating with others made something better?

The Daily Question. gratefulness.org (June 30, 2019)

Outdoor ministry (summer camp / church camp) is a collaborative ministry in our Region.  No one person does it all.  This is a unique characteristic of the intentional Christian community that our brand of Christian witness offers and celebrates here in Oklahoma and in the other Regions of our little frontier movement.  There are no celebrities.  Everyone is a celebrity. Some have more responsibility than others, but all are obligated to nurture play, prayer, worship, study, and service which are the foundational ingredients that are blended together each day at church camp.   It’s not easy and you have to want it even when that means putting others before oneself.  Especially, when it means putting others before oneself.

On Sunday, July 7th, youth and adults from ten of our congregations will take a mission adventure together.  They are listed next to the VW Micro Bus.  After a ten hour bus ride the group will arrive at First Christian Church in Texas City, TX.  It is from this congregation’s doorstep that our group of fifty-three (53) will be present and lend a hand in ongoing Hurricane Harvey recovery.  That recovery looks different now almost two years since Harvey blew 130 mph winds across portions of south Texas and rained down more than 40 inches of rain in four days.  One of the things that Oklahomans know is that disaster recovery takes a long, long time and it manifests in many forms.  It is the details of small things and acts of kindness that no camera will capture and no dollar amount can sustain.  So, we take your blessings and prayers (and lots of sunscreen and bug spray) with us July 7-13.  You can follow along on the Region’s Facebook page as well as our Twitter (@CCOKDOC) and Instagram (ccokdoc).

And . . . my final season of sabbatical is July 15 – August 16.  Thank you for the time away.

The invisible limits

Words like חמץ and kx’āhã don’t appear in English. These words, like thousands of others, include sounds that aren’t part of the normal spoken range of the language. We don’t have difficulty saying or hearing these sounds, they’re simply sounds we have rules against.

The question is: Is the alphabet we use missing those sounds because we don’t use them, or is it that we don’t use those sounds because we don’t have letters for them?

If you can’t see it, you can’t say it. And that goes for more than words. (Seth Godin, 3/18/19)

Sabbatical: Season 2, has begun.  When the Intersection arrives to your inbox I will be a week into the Second Season.  This 37 days will be filled with reading, outdoor activity, and two thought projects: generic Christianity and moralistic therapeutic deism.  Both of these has had an effect on our denomination and how we choose to blend in or stand out in our communities.

I have a reading list that I will probably not complete, but I’m starting with the books below.

My companion and I will be cruising during holy week and, weather permitting, I’ll watch the Easter sunrise over the horizon of the Atlantic ocean.  I will also return to blogging and create a writing ritual that I can sustain into the rest of the year.  I’m trusting that I’ll have a better grasp of the invisible limits, our systems and my own, when May 1 arrives.

He continued, “Does our congregation sound like an old, durable lawn mower that, with some TLC, will rumble to life at the appointed time of year to mow for another season? Or do we sound like a Harley? You know, that unique sound you can hear in the distance, getting closer, and then once past leaves a trail of sound and smells unique to the brand.” One can be comfortable with both sounds, I guess, but they represent different visions of what Church and Christianity are to be, and be about, in this world.

Our denomination’s tradition for serving communion (eucharist or Lord’s Supper) involves parishioners. We serve one another the elements with trays passed through the pews. Someone holds the bread for me. That same person holds the cup for me. I hold the bread for you. I hold the cup for you. We serve the elements to each other and put into practice the priesthood of all believers. It is one way we embrace a table open to all, no matter where one worships or may have been baptized. Community is experienced in the sharing of communion as a kind of original potluck dinner.  Sometimes, we borrow the priestly ritual of intinction for special days of worship.  Rather than serve on another in the pews, worshippers move down an aisle to a person or two from whom they receive communion.

Not long ago, I sat in the sanctuary of a congregation that, five years ago, was a whisper in their community.  In remembrance of Jesus, worshippers were invited to come forward to receive communion by intinction. It is a large sanctuary built for a time when Sunday was theological and social for most of America. That day, the floor squeaked, a little mouse sound, as the thirty or so of us made our way to the chancel to receive communion. I remember worshipping in this congregation three and a half years ago when we installed their new minister. On that day, the same thirty or so made their way down the aisle in remembrance for communion. The floor squeaked a slight bit of hope with a new vision for being Church and practicing Christian faith.

I worshipped with this congregation as they bid farewell to their minister who was called to another congregation. I was sitting in the second pew. After partaking of communion at the chancel steps by intinction I returned to my seat. The sound of dozens of feet and a chair or two passed by me. So many stories of life. Beneath the well-worn carpet, wood popped, rumbled, and groaned, not unhappily, but as if strong memories were awakened. You could hear the floor give a bit as it was designed to take the weight. It was a welcomed workout. It went on and on. One elder looked concerned for a moment that there may not be enough for everyone. You could see the memory of potluck dinners wash over him. There was plenty. More than enough. There were leftovers. One hundred and fifty plus people shared “do this in remembrance of me”. It is a congregation that decided what they want church to sound like.  Its list of weekly ministries provide ways to practice Christian faith: serving at the food pantry, or serving one of their free community meals, or helping with the after-school program, or Agape Meal and Study, or Clothing Closet, or . . . Maybe practicing Christian faith can mean inviting someone to serve alongside you, and to worship with your congregation.

I grew up in a time when children were taught to read by “sounding it out.”. If you came upon a word you didn’t know how to pronounce, don’t worry. You can do it. Use your knowledge of the alphabet, and the sounds of the letters, and your memory to sound it out. Do you know the word “Christian”?   It may take more than one try, but you will get it. Will you pronounce it perfectly? No, not the first time and maybe not even the fourth time. But you will. And what does that word mean? You may not know, but the sentence can give clues, or the context of the paragraph may help determine a basic meaning. You know, like a contestant in a spelling bee might ask to hear a word used in a sentence to help determine the spelling. It is not always just stalling for more time. Christian.

Here in the early 21st century, it seems like this is what many mainline Christian denominations are doing in their communities where they once dominated Sunday or Wednesday or both. Many are having to sound it out. There are always new words and the meaning of words can change. What sound does your church make? And, could I ask a personal question?

“What does a Christian sound like?” You can do it. Sound it out.