Mark Scandrette and Sevens’s mantra for vowed community: (from the Homebrewed Christianity podcast):

to Creator, obedience
to creation, service
to each other, community
in all things love,
in all things love.

with possessions, simplicity
for life, prayer
in our world, creativity
in all things love,
in all things love.

As I understand it, this beautiful, centering mantra came from dwelling in Jesus’ gospel commands in community, distilling roughly seven themes. In the podcast, Mark also shared the story from the Church Basement Roadshow’s biodiesel RV mishap, which I saw right out in front of our building late one Saturday night in July. Note to self—do not attempt to drive 40+ foot RV up one of our hills… At the time I felt awful about it, but looking back now it’s a good laugh.

I also appreciated this podcast quote on the four images of Jesus:

I thought, ‘Well I want to go back to the gospels to see how Jesus lived his life.’… And if I had to name on one hand what I saw as the major themes of his life, I thought, ‘Well, it seems like he was a healer, an artist-storyteller, a companion, and a mystic.’ I want to learn how to inhabit those same things.

Mark, aka Preacher Withee and author of Soul Graffiti, is heading to the Ham in a couple weeks. I look forward to hanging out with the Christo-dojo slam poet and the cohort.  Also, he’ll be speaking here with us Sunday, October 19th. Yay-ah.

“You can’t vote for the kingdom.”
–Bobby Jackson, Oblate of the Order of St. Benedict

Or can you? What do you think?

Ok, so this wasn’t a blog, but it is old-school, at least for me. This was a throwback to my days in college in the sleepy Deep South town of Natchitoches , Louisiana (ever watched Steel Magnolias?—that’s the place). Man, I can’t help but think how alive my faith was during that time. We had this college ministry that we called the Demons for Christ. You know, lots of Church of Christ campus organizations had this formula for their names. Take the school mascot (which in our case was the Demons—no joke) and put “for Christ” after it, and there you go: the Demons for Christ. So in 2002 we followed suit with ranks like “The Longhorns for Christ” at the University of Texas, and the “Aggies for Christ” at Texas A&M. The verse that we claimed was, of course, from the book of James: “Even the demons believe—and shudder.”

My good old friend Marq was cranking out our brilliant weekly newsletter: D4C eNewz. I recall getting these at my old hotmail account: <pistolpriest@hotmail.com> . Don’t drop a line there–it’s a long gone address (but oh how I wish I hadn’t lost those old emails…). Anyway, I was doing a search for a file on my hard drive the other day and this old D4C eNewz-letter came up. I couldn’t help but get a chuckle from something I submitted. The following came during a time when we were learning to think “worldviewishly” as I recall. We were learning what various worldviews were, which, because of their tight definitions, can often pigeon hole folks into a persona that really do not get at the nuanced way they view the world, but nonetheless help us to understand broader belief systems. It was a time of spiritual growth. I was wrestling with God and putting culture in a half-nelson, as I saw it.

On that note, I offer the following, posted in the D4C Newz on 7 December 2002 at the end of my 5th semester of college. Oh, and by the way, the reference to Oprah was a result of her surprise visit to Natchitoches during our Homecoming parade that she marshalled. She paraded around in one of my old friend Tommy’s convertible Corvettes. Too bad I didn’t get to see her that Friday. I was stuck in track practice doing bounding drills all over the football practice field…

Why did the Chicken cross the Road? Part 2
By Tyler Priest

According to:
- A Calvinist minister: Sovereign God led the chicken across the road in his own good pleasure.
- An Arminian minister: The chicken’s free will led it across the road in order to please God.
- A Priest: it was on its way to confession.
- A Rabbi: it was looking for the Messiah.
- The Buddha: it was on the 8 fold path, which just so happened to cross the road.
- A guru: it was searching for it’s soul.
- Another Rabbi: it was the Sabbath, so the chicken knew the coast was clear.
- the Relativist: it just seemed right to the chicken, so it crossed.
- Marq: only by God’s grace and mercy was the chicken able to cross the road.
- Bono (U2): it was one of the many chickens I gave to the country to feed the people.
- R.C. Sproul: forget the chicken, let’s talk about ultimate issues.
- Josh Henderson: I don’t know but that yardbird tasted good.
- Oprah: it was following its spirit. You go, chicken!

Posted in ecclesia   Tagged: Bono, Churches of Christ, college ministry, Demons for Christ, Natchitoches, Oprah Winfrey, RC Sproul, worldview    ]]> http://thepriesthood.wordpress.com/2008/09/30/old-school-blog-2-d4c-enews-7-december-2002/feed/ priest http://thepriesthood.wordpress.com/2008/09/29/seminary-epiphany-1-you-cannot-have-the-bible-without-the-church/ http://thepriesthood.wordpress.com/2008/09/29/seminary-epiphany-1-you-cannot-have-the-bible-without-the-church/#comments Mon, 29 Sep 2008 15:30:14 +0000 thepriesthood http://thepriesthood.wordpress.com/?p=321

So here’s aha moment number one. Of course, it has to do with the Scriptures. When you come from a tradition that leans heavily stands upon the B-I-B-L-E (yes that’s the book for me), and, well, not so heavily on the historic catholic (read: universal) church, you are shaped in a way that has you going back to the Bible as an answer book for all of life’s questions and as a blueprint for how to do church the right way (as if there were only one way that can be easily applied to all contexts).

As is the result of any good education, you begin to question authority. Jesus mastered his disciples in this art of authority questioning. Had he not done this, his student-followers would have remained at peace with the systems they were born into. Instead, they were the novitiates of a radical alternative to the power systems of their world.

The corner market of religious and political authority, as it had been known in ancient Jewish culture at the dawn of the first millennium, was held by the Pharisees or Sadducees, depending upon whose side you were on. They claimed to have superiority of their respective interpretations of the Law. Jesus confronted both of these groups head on, demonstrating the inferiority of their imposed authority upon the Jewish peoples by revealing some massive loopholes in their doctrine. The Lectionary text from yesterday morning is a perfect example of this deconstructive hermeneutic (see Matt’s gospel, somewhere after Jesus marches into Jerusalem, 21st chapter I think). I couldn’t help but chuckle at the reading of this text. Jesus owned some elders on their own turf.

So what happens when you begin to question authority, and your authority rests almost completely on the Bible? You realize that your authority essentially comes from yourself, since you are the sole interpreter of the Scriptures and do not answer to a priest, or a bishop, or a church, or a pope. The authoritative self: that’s a bit unsettling (although I’m not so sure about those other options either). Ever wondered why Protestantism is so splintered?

You then begin to ask, “Where did the Bible come from?” And other questions like, “Who decided that these 4 gospels are in, and all the others are out?” become inevitable. “Where did we get these 66 books? Did they fall out of the sky in a bound KJV version with Jesus’ words in red?” When you are given the tools of deconstruction, easy and simplistic answers die a certain death.

So where did we get our Bible? Put simply, we got it from the church. Through a series of 4th century synods (gatherings of church leaders) that culminated in the Synod of Hippo (in St. Augustine’s hood), the Bible as we have it today was generally agreed upon (including the apocryphal writings—or deuterocanonical writings if you’re down with Roman Catholicism). What’s funny is that Protestants had no representatives at this Synod, and yet they (we) lean upon the doctrine of sola scriptura often too heavily. Well, ok, so this was 1000 years prior to the Protestant Reformation. But sola scriptura was one of the foundational tenets of the Reformation. Very simply put, it is the belief that the Bible is self-interpreting, which ends up meaning that our individual interpretations therefore claim as much authority over our lives as the Pope’s interpretation would in the life of a Catholic.  It should also be noted that the idea sola scriptura is itself an interpretation of the Bible, and one that fails to acknowledge a source(s) of authority outside the Bible, namely the church—the very church that gave and preserver the shape of the Bible.

So what I’m getting at is this: we cannot have the Scriptures without the church.

If we rely upon one, we are relying upon, and thus giving our authority to, the other. This has major implications for us “back to the Bible” folks. It says that we are indebted to, and must therefore learn from, engage, and incorporate historic Christianity into our communal life. What I mean by “historic Christianity” is that there are traditions that run deeper than 200, or even 500 years of church history. There are beliefs, creeds, practices, calendrical events, liturgies, disciplines and sacraments that should not be ignored. We cannot have the product of a 4th century community without embracing the broader community itself. We cannot answer to a canon of Scriptures without answering to the flow of faithful Christian community that canonized and preserved such a canon.

We cannot just spin off from historic Christianity and interpret the Bible as if it has never been interpreted before. Sure, there are times to shake off the interpretive accretions of traditionalism (as the Reformers were attempting to do), but in order to do this we must be rooted in something far deeper (which was true for some of the Reformers). The tradition I was raised within was all about getting back to the Bible—and don’t hear me wrong—I really appreciate that impulse. But when we get back to the Bible, we must acknowledge that we are getting back to the church as well.

The Bible is so mass-produced today that it’s easy to forget that we are inheriting something. There were people living in dimly lit basements who devoted their lives to preserving these sacred documents as best they could. So when we come to sacred Scriptures, we must acknowledge that it came from somewhere and it did not come from nowhere. I know, I know, I’m getting heretical here. Or at least opening a can of worms for some folks. I’m a bad (post)Protestant.

The manuscripts that have conveyed the Scriptures to us throughout the years, as a product of the church, are in many ways like the church itself. They are messy, riddled with discrepancies and differences, and yet divine. Cracked vessels, the light still shines through. It’s a beautiful paradox.

Dear God,

I confess to giving wonderful lip service to caring about the poor without actually having a heart for the poor. I further confess that writing that previous confession alleviates the guilt of doing nothing about my idealized convictions in regard to the poor. I further confess that the confession of my previous confession alleviates the guilt of doing nothing about my idealized convictions in regard to the poor. I could go on here, but I think you get the point.

My belief system is bankrupt. My religion enables my inaction. You give me a law, and I will break it. You give me a command, and I will ignore it. You give me an ideal, and I will doubt it. You give me grace, and I will abuse it. Have mercy on me, God, for I have a poverty of my own.

Yes, my religion enables my inaction.  So bring me to the end of my religion.  May I find you there.  Amen.

This morning a friend reminded me that today marks 45 years since the bombing of the historically African-American 16th Street Baptist Church here in Birmingham. I take note of that occurrence, but then am reminded of how far our nation has come in terms of racial reconciliation. Simply note that at present there is a man of African descent that could very likely become the next President. But then brought to my attention today was the “noose incident” which took place at my seminary’s (post)Christian college intended to threaten a campus leader and friend with whom I played basketball.

Backwards. Forwards. Backwards.

It takes me a moment to think of a more opposed direction to the message of Jesus than racially motivated hatred. And when I look at myself, I cannot deny that I am still attempting to silence the inner-voice of racism. God, it is such an ugly, ugly demon. And it is so disheartening to see it made manifest in a Christian community–a community that was created to be diametrically, categorically, and radically opposed to such an evil.

So on this 45th anniversary of the death of 4 beautiful little girls dressed in white who had just heard a sermon entitled “The Love that Forgives,” we pause, and realize that we are so close, and so far, from such a love truly breaking into our world.

Look what I dug up. I wrote this post almost 4 years ago in early January 2005 while about to enter my final semester at Northwestern State U in Natchitoches, LA. Note the reference to the emerging church and the post-evangelical marriage of art and music, as well as the Protestant maverick tone at the end and general frustration with church as I had known it.

By that time in my formation, I was already beginning to find alternatives to the dying institution I had been loyal to for four years. I was connected with parachurch ministries (which oft functioned as missional churches themselves) and was exploring other traditions outside the conservative evangelical quadrant (mostly renewal, but also social justice and even liturgical). Even while residing in small town Natchitoches (but doing lots of traveling/networking/kyngdom exploring), my world was being blown open, and I saw denominational categories and single-quadrant churches beginning to fall like dead trees, making room for new expressions of Christian community to spring up. I couldn’t quite define what was going on in Christianity as I saw it, but sensed that something was emerging…

One thing about Catholicism that really appeals to me is the appreciation of art in visual form. I’ve never seen an ugly cathedral (ok, well there was this modern one, but…). Even the college Catholic Student Organization chapel down the street has striking aesthetics. But when you go to mass, the hymnody is often drab and monotone. The opposite of both is true when you go to an evangelical church. The building usually isn’t very appealing (often economical and plain) but the music is often fresh (although sometimes too pop-ish). I make this observation after a conversation with an older Catholic friend and artist, Fred Gianforte. He said the Roman Catholic church boasts the likes of Michelangelo and Da Vinci, while the Reformed church boasts guys like Beethoven and Mozart. There’s a focus on different things—the visual in one and the audio in the other. Today, in the emerging church, we’re beginning to see the marriage of the two dimensions—the sight and the sound. Not that this is what worship all about, but I believe God can receive a greater glory (and we in turn can experience this glory) when his people’s creative abilities are displayed in as many forms as possible. If you think about it, Christians should be some of the most creative folk on the planet. If we really do have this unrestrained communion through Christ with the very Artist and Architect of the universe, shouldn’t this relationship be unlocking an ability to design and build and create in ways that do not merely mimic culture, but propose imaginative alternatives?

Unfortunately, the general case in today’s church is that of suppressing our creative abilities. It’s so left-brained, modern, cerebral. I’m afraid we have fallen into a “normal” way of worship—stubbornly uncreative. Creative ability is God’s first attribute we’re told of in Genesis. There’s something inside me that wants to rebel against the status quo of doing church as I’ve known it…

as of now, my folks and other neighbors have decided to hold down the fort. in prayer for all those in the way of Ike. the church building I grew up going to sits just 13 feet above sea level right on Trinity Bay. the storm surge could by anywhere from 12-20 feet high…
______________________________________________________________________________________________

UPDATE: Things with my folks are good.  Will need a new fence, that’s about it.  No water damage.  However, a neighbor just a few houses down, my minister growing up, had a large tree fall through the roof.  Dad’s message said the twisted tree had the marks of a small twister dropping down (?).  My family came out unscathed and my childhood home remains intact.  All things considered, I’m very thankful, but mindful of damage and casualties in the area.

I was driving to a weekly student breakfast this morning when I decided I would do some local anthropology and began searching the FM frequency for “The Rick and Bubba Show.”  Funny, it’s something I had never done before.  Usually, I’m listening to the quality work of NPR or the freshly programmed tunes at 100.5  But this morning it was the Rick and Bubba Show.  There’s some very interesting journalism going on at that frequency.

Anyway, I was listening to their show on the way back, and they had put together a 9/11 tribute.  They had collected soundbites from their broadcast some seven years ago and laid those over a couple of song tracks. The music they chose was altogether paradoxical.  The first song involved an orchestral arrangement with resounding gongs, as if we were celebrating a monumental achievement or heading into war (the latter of which turned out to be true—just with the wrong country).  The second song was altogether baffling.  It was from the Spiderman soundtrack—a song called Hero performed by Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger.  The third song was even worse, but we’ll get to that later.

If you have ever actually listened to the lyrics of this song Hero, they clearly do not jive with a talk show that is, as I’ve heard it described, a sort of civil-religion conservative talk show, or in my own words, a tattooed good-ol-boy cousin of religious right radio complete with mullets and the narrow-minded epistemologies that typically accompany such genetic predispositions.

The “montage” tribute was simply put a failed attempt at transcendence and reverence for that dark day in American history.  In the backgroud, Chad Kroeger of Nickelback is wailing on in a humanistic/liberal fashion about how “I am so high, I can hear heaven…whoa but heaven, no heaven don’t hear me.”  And then, “They say that a hero can save us; I’m not going to stand here and wait.”  And the next line: “I’ll hold onto the wings of an eagle, watch as we all fly away.” And lastly, “Now that the world isn’t ending, it’s love that I’m sending to you.  It isn’t the love of a hero, and that’s why I fear it won’t do.”

I hope you’re getting the irony at this point.  The guys at Rick and Bubba’s show probably hear key words like “A world full of killing and blood spilling” and they think, Hey, that’s September 11th, a great song for the montage.  But what they don’t think is, Hey, that song is essentially saying it’s lost its hope in religion, specifically the Christian religion, as a force for love in this world.  So it’s saying my hope is in my own love, because the supposed love of Christianity has only brought about war and destruction.  I’m not waiting around for some holy apocalypse to make everything better.

Not only is Kroeger’s song completely contradictory to the civil religion values of Rick and Bubba (including it’s “liberal” bias against religion), it’s an awful way to remember September 11th.  Rick and Bubba were groping about for some feeling of transcendence, and they stopped far short with a pop-rock soundtrack song that is played at rural high school 10-year reunions.  I couldn’t help but see a picture of Spiderman narrowly swinging his way out of the destruction of September 11th with his salvific spider web shots.

And then, if it couldn’t get worse, followed by that song was a screeching transition into Christy Nockels “Breathe.”  We’ve got sound bites talking about planes crashing into buildings, and meanwhile juxtaposed with that are the lyrics, “This is the air I breathe…your holy presence, living in me.”  Um, what?  I’ve got this picture of all of Manhattan filled with a thick smoke mixed with debris dust, meanwhile there’s a song about “the air I breathe” as the presence of God.  It’s a beautiful song, but not when mixed with September 11th images.  Again, an awful, oxymoronic blend of emotions and images.

“This is my daily bread, your very Word, spoken to me.”

“Man, lookie here in slow-motion!  Y’all see that?!  Something ‘bizarro’ is goin on in New York.”

What must have been an attempt to remember the weight of this day was cheapened by a thoughtless, shoddy attempt at memorializing an event with 2 pop-rock and pop-worship songs that are contradictory when played side-by-side, and also contradictory to the nature of such a memory.

Was I the only one that heard that?  Listen to it for yourself here.

fellow post-restorationists, as if one of them needed a nametag

signs of emergence are everywhere. so much going on right now. i want to share stories and news with the locals in the area who are on board with the emergent conversation or whatever you call it.

first, Greg had a great post on the EV blog not too long ago that i thought was brilliant—on the deconstruction of justice.

second, there is a pretty sweet consortium of folks coming together around a table to scheme up justice, dream up art, make some music and share in the Eucharist together. it’s called emuna, and one of the rhythms of this community is the creation of meditative/artistic environments that allow space and time for communion with God. it’s usually at Shades Valley Community Church–a.k.a. the old ice-skating rink in Homewood. stay tuned in to the website for their next environment, then block off an evening and enjoy. the first environment was entitled “born” and was a good sabbath experience. they’re doing some sweet stuff with their space over there–a creative, artistically gifted community. this Thursday (9/11 no less) emuna is gathering for a potluck and drum circle. can’t miss that.

yesterday was an amazing day getting to hang with Brian McLaren, the godfather of the emergent conversation. thanks to Ken I was able to hang out with some Co-op Baptists Fellowship folks with whom Brian was talking. an amazingly approachable, humble guy, Brian shared lunch at our table and i got to be a fly on the wall. i even buzzed around for a bit. then later Brian had graciously accepted our invite to hang at the cohort. nice turnout. there were something like 25 of us in the room. we talked justice, politics, evandalism, and such. Brian shared the story of his journey from pastor to social activist. he spoke about a time he shared with students at a camp. he was winging this lesson and had them right down the “issues” their church was concerned about. guitars in worship, drums in worship, inerrancy of the Bible, dancing… then Brian asked them to create a list of the issues they talk about at school–the important stuff. war, poverty, nuclear weapons, the environment, suicide, drug and alcohol abuse… it was then that Brian saw that “church” as they knew it hardly intersected with the larger issues of their lives. thus a child is born: the idea for Everything Must Change. essentially, he told those students, don’t worry about that other list. it will take care of itself. pursue the weightier things. i look forward to following him to Abilene later this month.

we’ve been fortunate to persuade Phyllis Tickle, the Godmother of Emergent, to spend time with us at Disciples Fellowship, Sunday September 14th, 5:45 p.m. she will be sharing stories, thoughts, and entertaining questions centered around her upcoming release The Great Emergence. you won’t want to miss this. i’m half-way through the read, and it is a beautifully written and sociologically prophetic message for emerging Christians that helps us locate ourselves in an amazing pattern of history. it’s convincing that right now is a “hinge time” in the history of Christianity–very exciting stuff. come get schooled in church history and catch a glimpse of the future. hope to see you there. (by the way, if I had a nickel for every guy I know that has a crush on Phyllis, it would make at the very least a buck [ahem Nic Fiedler, ahem Ken Haynes ahem ahem. ok, me too.])

also, later this month, the cohort is hoping to take a trip to our local Islamic temple for the last night of Ramadan. it’s something Brian suggested last night, akin to the “evangelism project” that ikon participated in–shutting up and learning about our neighbor’s way of faith.

nextly, we (Disciples’ Fellowship) are hosting the Emergent Southeast Regional Gathering Oct 31 (Reformation Day) thru November 2. looking forward to that un-conference chill event. rumor has it that Postmodern Negro will be here, giving us a different perspective of his hometown.

lastly, today, just found out that efforts to book Pete Rollins have succeeded. he’ll be passing thru B’ham (USA–not UK) in February on his “lessons in evandalism” speaking tour. very exciting stuff. i think part of the draw was when i told him Caputo’s friend, Keith Putt at Samford U was hoping he could pass through.

that’s all for now. glory.