A LOVE SUPREME

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Monday, June 14, 2010

Church of the Blessed Life

It's all well and good to guilt people into a more sustainable lifestyle; and perhaps it is even inspiring to discuss a way of life that is fulfilling and integrated. However, the realityis that it is extraordinarily frustrating and taxing to attempt to swim against the current of U.S. consumerism; it feels impossible for one individual to do it--like swimming against the rapids. And, after all, what difference can one individual really make, in the long run? The reality is that we need community. We need local support and networks of people committed to living the blessed life.

How about the church?

It's an intriguing time in the life of the church. Most churches are having a hard time maintaining enthusiasm among the young, particularly singles. The numbers I have seen show that young folks are leaving the churches in a mass exodus, of sorts, although most still describe themselves as spiritual or religious in some way.

Hhhhmmm....what about the church....

Here's the positive thing. Churches are already set up as support groups for local individuals. This is particularly true of "neighborhood churches" that are located in densely populated areas (where people actually live!), allowing people to be within walking distance of the building.

Furthermore, if churches want to imitate their founding member (and subsequent disciples and apostles), which seems to be a common theme among churches, then they will already have an interest in creating a supportive community for living an alternative lifestyle--this could be lifestyle in alternative to the consumeristic matrix within which the greater Western world now participates.

Just imagine it, my friend. (Personally, I have a difficult time not feeling some surge of optimism in writing about the possibility.) Just think of the revolutionary possibilities if churches dedicated themselves to the path of anti-consumerism, to integrity, and to the blessed life. These churches could create new, local markets for goods, for everything from locally produced food to locally made clothes, furniture, cookware, and art. What kind of new employment opportunities might this open up? Might more people be able to quit their jobs on the assembly lines and behind desks and follow their talents and creativity? Working the soil or creating beautiful and useful products?

Such a shift would also create strong relational bonds within a faith community--striving and struggling together for a crucial mission at a critical time. It would be a shift from surviving the world to working together for a new vision. Consumeristic thinking necessarily leads to objectification. Those of us who "work jobs we hate to buy shit we don't need" end up feeling a little bit like we've sold our souls to the devil. And maybe we have, but it isn't too late to change. Such a transformation would be about the blessed life--approaching the world in a life-giving manner. This is a shift about the way we interpret ourselves, no longer as "consumers" or "human resources" but as relational and responsible human beings--with an emphasis on "being," on being dynamic and alive. This kind of life and this new relational energy could then be used to reach out a hand to those on the margins of the consumeristic society: the disabled, the poor, the addicts, prisoners, prostitutes, undocumented immigrants, and others who are considered a burden by the wider society--but those to whom that Jesus dude tended to gravitate.

Structurally the church is set up to be the catalyst for the blessed life, to turn our attention from thoughtless Walmart, fast food, and strip-mall consumers to becoming informed people of integrity. The system can be changed, we could become spiritually, relationally, and environmentally sustainable people via the church.

So, what's stopping us?

Structurally, the church is set up to be

13 comments:

amy frances said...

Man.

This post and the two before it really resonate with me. They just really, really do.

May I link to them?

Jonathan Erdman said...

Cool. Great to hear, Amy. Thank you.

Yeah. Of course you may link to them. I would be honored.

What is it, specifically, that you feel resonates with you.

amy frances said...

Thanks.

It's just that I dream of a faith community in which people are dedicated to sharing life, all of it, and care for the world and the human family, and because of that dedication to each other and the world, the place where they live and consequently the rest of the world are better.

In my ideal situation, a sense of genuine family is shared among people who are related by choice and not by blood—for instance, friends eat more meals together than separately. "Immediate-family-only" events are mostly unheard of, and there are no outsiders. People feel entirely at home in each other's spaces, and no one ever walks alone through any trial. I want to live in a community in which there is some peer pressure, the healthy, loving kind, that encourages everyone in the direction of an integrated life.

And the goal of the community isn't separation from the rest of the world; it's entirely open, and people spread the love however they can, taking in people who need to be taken in, going out and doing good that needs to be done.

Et cetera and so on. I could gush for pages, but you get the idea. This is church to me: corporate worship is all of life, each moment is spent bowing together to the holy order of things, mindful that the kingdom of heaven truly is at hand, spreading the gospel of peace and reconciliation among people, with the natural world, and to God. Spreading the gospel, that is, through love and actions, 99% of the time.

And it feels like complete fiction to me. I've seen it done only in literature and on tv. So who knows? But it's a nice idea.

Jonathan Erdman said...

Those are some wonderful words, coming from a truly dedicated and pure heart. Thank you for sharing them.

Yes. It is just an idea, but from such beautiful ideas can come beautiful things. Hopefully it is all tempered by our own negative experiences, such that we understand that lofty ideals need to be grounded in practice; that faith and works are interconnected, or need to be in the life of the church.

john doyle said...

Amy says she dreams of "a faith community... And the goal of the community isn't separation from the rest of the world; it's entirely open... This is church to me: corporate worship is all of life, each moment is spent bowing together to the holy order of things, mindful that the kingdom of heaven truly is at hand, spreading the gospel of peace and reconciliation among people, with the natural world, and to God."

A faith community is closed to those who don't profess the faith, isn't it? Worship, bowing, holy order, spreading the gospel, etc. -- these are the barriers that churches traditionally reinforce to separate themselves from non-church. Even if you let the unbelievers in or reach out to them, the distinction remains. Of course this isn't a big deal in a place where practically everyone is a believer.

amy frances said...

Well, John, you're correct that a faith community, or any kind of community that's founded on some common ideal or interest, is inherently exclusive. One wouldn't usually be welcome to join (or want to join, probably) a mothers-of-toddlers social group if one were not the mother of a toddler.

What I mean by "entirely open" is that no one is unwelcome because, for instance, she is gay or Indian or a tax accountant or socially awkward. By "faith community," I don't mean an institution that formally admits only people who profess certain religious beliefs. While I can't imagine a person who is Hindu or an Atheist wanting to join as I meet with a group regularly for lectio divina, they would be welcome and embraced.

It is sad and true that worship, belief in a holy order, and the other things you listed, are barriers that churches reinforce to keep outsiders out. I do hope that it doesn't have to be that way. I personally do not worship or bow with other people of faith or strive for integrity or share honestly about my spiritual journey to reinforce a barrier between myself and those who do not believe as I do; it is simply the path I've chosen. A faith community, to me, is a group of people who have chosen a similar path and have chosen to walk it together, and formal association is irrelevant. And others whose different paths intersect with theirs are embraced and celebrated as fellow human beings, not avoided as Others and outsiders. We are human, after all.

I feel like I should define what I mean by "holy order," because it's a term I've invented (or ignorantly appropriated for my own purposes?): the holy order of things is integration, sustainability, active pursuit of peace and healing for the human family, the earth, and her creatures. It is "holy" in the sense that this set of values seeks wholeness and consummate, active love. My personal motivation for embracing these values is religious, but I don't feel that the values themselves are particularly religious. (But, as a person of faith, I may not be the best person to make that judgment.)

Would you say that a community of people who share similar faith is necessarily an obstacle for those who do not share that faith? Does any of this seem intrinsically separatist? (And if it does, I do want to know. I consider myself to be a tolerant and inclusively minded person, but I'm not perfect at it!)

Thanks for asking, John. I appreciate it.

Jonathan Erdman said...

Could such a church handle a woman accountant who is a gay, socially awkward Indian?

I jest.

So, Amy. You are suggesting that a faith community engage in a certain practice, hold certain priorities for their congregation (like a "holy order"), but on the whole allow for anyone to join and welcome all, regardless of whether they completely fit in? "Formal association is irrelevant."

Good thoughts.

John?

john doyle said...

Hi Amy. On the one hand there are the desirable features of the community you describe: people related by choice, mutual support through thick and thin, spreading the love, doing good deeds. On the other hand there are the church-sounding words I mentioned in my prior comment: church, faith, spreading the gospel. As you say, it's possible to build a close-knit community on all sorts of foundations: family, shared hobbies, similar life phase (mothers of toddlers). As you also say, these communities might welcome outsiders, even though it would be a bit odd for the outsider to join -- like "Jack" and Marla joining all those support groups in Fight Club.

It seems to me that the church could be one of three things. (1) A club, with secret handshakes and rituals and membership criteria and so on, not unlike a support group or country club or family. (2) A "kingdom of God" that sets itself apart from and in opposition to "the world," from which it tries to save as many as it can. (3) Something else.

I can imagine the "something else" version as mutual commitment to relationship by choice, standing by one another, good deeds, etc. I can also imagine some version of "faith-based" that doesn't rely on all the usual visual and verbal trappings: Bible readings, prayers, hymns, and so on. Instead the set of mutual commitments defines faith, and the ability to act in faith defines the movement of God in a person, whether that person acknowledges what's happening inside them or not.

I suspect, though, that such a church would almost certainly divide itself internally between those who do verbally acknowledge faith versus those who don't. There would be worship services attended by one faction, and maybe other sorts of gatherings attended by the other faction. Churches split up over way smaller issues than whether or not it permits full membership to atheists and agnostics and Hindus.

I guess given the failure of option 3 I'd rather see a church that looks like more like option 1 than option 2: a social club rather than a kingdom. Given that most churches are rather inbred anyway, I guess I don't have much to worry about as an outsider. So sure, if a church or AA or a neighborhood association could provide that sort of community for its members, more power to 'em.

amy frances said...

John,

Perhaps this is unrealistic, but my hope is that spiritual community can be something of all three options.

First of all, I really think a lot of problems would be solved by eliminating formal membership in legal institutions called "churches." I'm not thinking of a group of people on a membership roster who meet in a designated building once a week to sing and pray. Though they may gather and engage in spiritual disciplines as a group, more and more I'd like to abandon the idea of "a church" altogether. I like your idea of a club, but I would hope that who's in and who's out would be defined only with great caution and in the most general way. Or maybe not defined at all. I would think that formal membership criteria could be superseded by an organic sense of mutuality and camaraderie that shared humanity effects, and that similar faith can be shared in a way that is not an automatic judgment on the one who does not share that faith.

As for the second option, I don't like the language of kingdoms either, and I don't think the goal of spiritual community should be to separate from the world and save as many people as it can. But I personally believe that a divine presence leavens the human family and couples us, one to another, and that tuning in to that divine presence, that perfect love, and striving to embody it does save us—from hatred, prejudice, division, waste, pretension, objectification, isolation, individualism, apathy, complacency, passivity, and so on (which are what one may define as "sin")—by very virtue of our journeying toward good and seeking light and peace together. I wouldn't call it a "kingdom," but this is one way to interpret the Bible's "Kingdom of God," recognizing that this was the only language those writers had to express the idea. Is this what you mean when you say "the set of mutual commitments defines faith, and the ability to act in faith defines the movement of God in a person, whether that person acknowledges what's happening inside them or not"?

You are right: I doubt that a formal institution could exist in which some openly acknowledge their religious motivations and others do not or do not have them. But what about an informal group? Some of the verbal and visual trappings of my own religious tradition (lectio divina, the Eucharist, prayer, sacred silence, and so on) are incredibly meaningful to me, and sharing them with others is one of the most precious treasures in my life. But there is no sense in them of "I'm in and he's out." There is only resting in the mystery of our smallness together and profound peace that happens when we freely share ourselves in that way. I'm wondering—are you saying that a faith community would be better if the visual and verbal trappings of religion were eliminated? And, if so, why is it preferable that all abandon them?

john doyle said...

"I'm wondering—are you saying that a faith community would be better if the visual and verbal trappings of religion were eliminated? And, if so, why is it preferable that all abandon them?"

I'm questioning the equation of church with faith community. In Erdman's post he asked whether the church could serve as an all-encompassing context supporting community, integrity, anti-consumerism, sustainability, even employment. None of this has anything explicitly to do with being a faith community. He concludes, however: "Structurally the church is set up to be the catalyst for the blessed life." As someone who shares Erdman's and your enthusiasm for that sort of life but not his faith, I wouldn't look to the church as a catalyst for myself. To risk a possibly offensive analogy, it would be like joining AA without being having the addiction, or a cancer support group without having the disease.

I guess the question comes down to this: does the church serve as catalyst primarily for community, integrity, anti-consumerism, etc. on the one hand; or for Bible reading, prayer, eucharist, etc. on the other? Is it the "blessed life" or the activities that are distinctly oriented toward the Christian religion?

You say "both," which is completely understandable. Now I can certainly imagine a community in which some members do theater, others play tennis, others do lectio divina, etc. It's also true that not everyone in a community is going to be equally close to or supportive of one another. So I think it can work. But is this possible with churches, for which the central common focus has for the past 18 centuries or so been collective liturgy, hymn-singing, recitation of creeds, sermons, eucharist, and so on -- i.e., the explicitly Christian rituals? It would probably be easier, as you say, to start with something that isn't already labeled "church" with all its collected baggage.

You asked what I meant when I said "the set of mutual commitments defines faith, and the ability to act in faith defines the movement of God in a person, whether that person acknowledges what's happening inside them or not" I meant that a "faith community" could be defined by mutual commitment to what Erdman called the "blessed life" -- support, integrity, resistance to consumerist culture, etc. -- rather than by explicit statement of belief. A Christian may believe that only through the power of God can a blessed life be lived. Fine: then maybe those living such a life are empowered by God whether they realize it or not, whether they make a formal assertion of a set of beliefs or not. I.e., if you join with us in this committed community, we will have faith that God is working in you just as in us. The unbelievers, of course, don't have share this belief; they commit out of faith in one another and in the principles of the blessed life. Everybody in this hypothetical community of faith agrees that that's okay. Then whether you go to worship service or not becomes more a personal expression of what faith means to you, rather than the defining criteria for whether you're in or out of the club.

That's a long-winded rant for something that almost surely wouldn't happen.

Jonathan Erdman said...

I am thoroughly enjoying the exchange here. Thank you for the important thoughts.

I thought I might jump in to clarify something. John asks, "does the church serve as catalyst primarily for community, integrity, anti-consumerism, etc. on the one hand; or for Bible reading, prayer, eucharist, etc. on the other?" And then questions: "is this possible with churches, for which the central common focus has for the past 18 centuries or so been collective liturgy, hymn-singing, recitation of creeds, sermons, eucharist, and so on -- i.e., the explicitly Christian rituals?"

I just want to mention that the church has almost always had some sort of social or political agenda. Most of the time "the church" has been mostly interested in aligning with the state/powers-that-be to govern and set a social agenda--an overt alliance. At other times, it has been more subtle, as in the case of many early Anabaptists: live out a different sort of life and let your example inspire change.

I am for the latter, for the most part....but my point here was simply to say that "the church" in its many forms has almost always been interested in more than Bible reading, prayer, and the Eucharist. So, when I talk about a church that promotes "the Blessed Life," I am merely trying to grapple with a vision for the church that confronts the moral and social challenges of her time.

Sorry for the interlude....Carry on.

john doyle said...

Certainly throughout history the church has espoused some sort of agenda affecting society outside the church. At times they have even allied with non-Christians in pursuit of a common agenda. Gerry Falwell was explicit about this in finding anti-abortion and anti-gay legislation. Liberation theology too has made political allies outside the church, working with Marxists and indigenous peoples in pursuit of local social justice agendas.

The difference as I see it is that the liberation theology people tend to regard the justice agenda itself and not the church as the Holy Spirit at work in the world. They'll look to Jesus as the paradigmatic outsider, and allying with Jesus could well mean positioning yourself outside the church. At times God would be actively working against the organized church, which as you say has often allied itself with oppressive power, just as Jesus worked against the agenda of the Sadducees and Pharisees.

It's not that I'm pitting liberation theology versus the Christian Right here, but I think you get the idea. Is God at work in building the church, or is God at work in extending the blessed life into the world? In this regard I like the liberation theology idea quite a bit, regardless of their specific political agenda.

Jonathan Erdman said...

John,

As you might guess, I would side with Liberation Theologians. That's certainly my cup of tea.

It's interesting because you have Jesus as the anti-establishment prototype, but as you continue through the NT, you find that the church gets established and it easily becomes an end in itself. By the time of the writing of the Pastoral Epistles (1/2 Timothy and Titus)---and I might throw Colossians and Ephesians in there as well----there is evidence that the church exists for its own sake, with its own hierarchy and power structure.

This makes it tricky, because Christians can read the same Bible and come away with widely different views on what "the church" is: a radical, counter-cultural band of ragamuffins (like Jesus) or a structured, hierarchical power that exists for its own sake.