Our Kiwi friend Bosco has a very busy thread up asking some very thought-provoking questions about the Eucharist in terms of our brave new virtual world; namely, "Can a "virtual Eucharist" be possible?"
I have become very intrigued by the responses on the thread, not so much whether or not the questions he poses can be answered definitively, but because to even discuss the questions requires us to ponder the definition of a "spiritual community" and the nature of the Eucharist as a communal "meal."
The bulk of the discussion gets tied up in a lot of details about various denominational theologies and canons, transubstantiation, and the like..."trees" rather than the "forest." The beauty of that is, of course, that you can spend hours and hours asserting your version of the details is "correct" because none of these doctrinal positions can be scientifically "proved." You can spend more hours
But beyond the "trees" come larger questions about the forest itself. What can we learn about "community" in our virtual world of internet social networking, blogs, and Twitter?
I think one of the things I am learning is that as much stock as we put in "physical presence", whether it is ourselves in our community of friends, or the presence of Christ in bread and wine, there is something very real that transcends physical presence. Maybe "physical presence" is not all it is cracked up to be.
Don't get me wrong; I would not trade my "live-time" real life for a totally virtual one. But I am becoming more and more convinced that my virtual life teaches me very important lessons about my real time one.
On my blog, I retain semi-anonymity. Those who wish to know who I am in real life, well...it is not hard to figure it out. Those who do not, may need to keep me faceless, body-less, genderless, and socio-economic-less in order to hear what I am saying better.
On Facebook, I have FB friends whom I've never met. I would enjoy meeting them, but if we never met, that would be okay too. I feel as if I've known them in many of the ways I know my real friends. In some ways, I can be a better "me" to them than I can my real friends because I am not having to process their body language, gestures, or other physical things that can trigger my own "emotional hooks." In understanding that, I learn better how not to let these things "hook" my own wounds in the presence of my live-time friends and learn to interact with them better and in a more holy way.
On Twitter, I have to say what needs to be said clearly and with no misunderstanding in 140 characters or less! I have to "cut through the BS" as we say in these parts.
All of these virtual environments have new ways to "miscommunicate" as well. That is a problem at times. Sometimes that LACK of body language or physical presence causes miscommunication.
What it all does, I believe, is it challenges us all to become people of a higher awareness as to "how we communicate." If we are challenged to communicate better with each other, perhaps it can also improve how we communicate with God, or how God communicates with us. This challenge is a tall one. It's both scary and exciting. But I am grateful I live in an era where I can watch it unfold!
(Psalm 8:3,4) "When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?"
There's no doubt, in June and early July the icon of the season for me is the lightning bug. (Fireflies, to some of y'all.) In August and early September, I replace it with meteors in the night sky. But in those long days of the beginning of summer, when it takes so long to get dark (about 8:30/quarter to nine in these parts) the lightning bugs always start showing before the stars.
When I was a kid, I used to love to catch them. Fruit jars were my collection device of choice, with a few nail holes driven through the lid. Of course, you always had to put a couple blades of grass in with them (like somehow that would magically make them feel "at home") and more than one lightning bug has been sacrificed at the altar of childhood. You never believe the jar of bugs "won't keep" until the next night until you actually kept one outside overnight and awoke to find the bugs not only "not flashing" but quite dead. There were always the "runaways" who would be trying to crawl out of the jar once you opened the lid and you accidentally squished it. Of course, the tails of the accidentally squished one made dandy "pretend rings."
The other night, when I was walking right after it turned dark, I was treated to a wonderful sight. It was just dark enough the stars had come out. Literally dozens of lightning bugs were right at the tops of the hay in my hayfield, at the interface between earth and sky. It was like the stars had come down themselves to greet me. The yellow of their tails seemed to blend right into the white of the stars in the horizon, blinking almost in rhythm to the twinkling of the stars.
There are far more breathtaking spots on Earth, but I don't believe I would trade a trip to any of them for a moment like that, within the confines of my own pasture land.
"My" land. What a misnomer. Sure, there is a deed filed with the courthouse that says I own it, but the best things on it, I can never hope to own. I don't own the owl who hangs out there. I don't own the hawks that fly overhead, nor the quail that dart through my right-of-way, nor the fox who slinks around there. I don't even own the lightning bugs.
I dearly love Tobias. His posts always make me think "beyond myself" in ways I'm not inclined to do without a spur in my flanks. (I also hope he knows I love him despite the fact I teased him for having a "nerd pocket" in a picture on Facebook, complete with notebook and more than one writing utensil.) He enters a very tricky topic, the concept of Communion Without Baptism (CWOB) here and here. I was simply struck by not just the variety of opinion, but with the care and thoughtfulness of the posters on either side of the topic. Very few came off as "overly strident" to me.
I think I have finally reached a conclusion on this topic. The short version is, "Parishes should be allowed to deal with it either way, as long as their way of "dealing with it" is not overly pushy and the "rules" are presented in a way that is couched in the way of an invitation with no strings attached."
First, I'll admit my own "gut" viewpoint on the topic.
I admit that I personally am okay with CWOB. I guess the main thing to me is that the Eucharist is such a special object of mystery, that I believe there is nothing we humans can do to it that can "harm" it. I do not believe giving it to an unbaptized person "cootie-fies" it in any way. Perhaps, quite the opposite. I believe it could very well change that unbaptized person with powers we can't even imagine.
I'll steal from Erika's comment on Tobias' first post on the topic to validate my feelings...
"A personal story: my 11 year old daughter had been very ill for a long time and doctors seemed to be unable to work out what was wrong. One Sunday in church she suddenly stood up with the rest of us and went forward to receive Communion. My wonderful priest must have seen something in her expression and just gave the bread and the wine to her, knowing she was not confirmed.
5 days later, she was diagnosed with leukaemia and started a 3 year intense treatment programme.
I have no idea what made her come forward at that moment, she cannot put it in words either. But I like to think it was a clear call from God assuring her that he was there and that he would be there with her in what was to follow.
God breaks through the barriers we try to erect, even and especially when those barriers are there for good reason. Maybe we should trust him more than we do and try to regulate access to him a little less. After all, the one to whom all hearts are open, all desires known and from whom no secrets are hidden, knows who truly comes to meet him and who doesn’t, whatever membership badges the church may have bestowed on them. "
Put simply, I believe God can transform people (including the unbaptized) through sacraments. I believe Jesus would never have turned anyone down at the hypothetical rail.
Now, with that said, I believe that there is a certain amount of respect that should be given to consecrated elements. Not that people can put cooties on it, or profane it, but simply that part of appreciating its mystery can be learned through an awareness of it that comes from a "training process." I would never want to give up confirmation classes, despite the fact that my first time through as a 13 year old in a confirmation class was somewhat disastrous. But perhaps we need to change the focus. Confirmation maybe should not be focused on "getting the treat" but as a level of understanding of a bigger picture. If an expectation of baptism or confirmation is part of a parish's understanding of Eucharistic worship, it should still be "inviting" even if you would not be a "wafer-getter."
I'll steal from Kevin M. from Tobias' original post to make that point...
"Personally, (if I were a priest) I don't think I would refuse communion to someone who came forward for it. However, if I knew the person had not been baptized, I'd talk to him or her afterwards about considering being baptized.
I think I'd also put something like this in the bulletin.
"All are welcome to participate in out worship and fellowship. All are welcome to approach the altar of the Lord. All those baptized into the Body of Christ are welcome to receive communion in the Body and Blood of Christ. All those not baptized are welcome to receive a blessing and assurance of God's love, and all those desiring baptism are welcome to speak to a priest about it. All are welcome."
It's a little wordy, but I think it strikes the right balance between giving the expectations but also emphasizing that all are welcome in the church."
Honestly, I can see this both ways and can be okay with it. I have a huge respect for consecrated elements, simply because of what they mean to me. But I will be the first to admit this was "learned" behavior. My problems as a 13 year old in Confirmation class had nothing to do with that; my problem was I asked too many and too tough of questions to be handled in a setting with a class of other 13 year olds, and because I WAS 13 years old, I was rather...um...blunt in how I handled the criticism!
Now, with that said, either option has a caveat for "harm."
In CWOB, the "harm" is that the "unsure" or the one who simply does not feel personally fit for communion, by whatever means their own brain determines "fit", ends up self-segregating. That person is noticed for NOT going to the rail.
In requiring baptism for communion, the "harm" is overt "rules-based exclusion" a la the Pharisees, calling someone out, chiding them, saying "no" in a non-loving way. A loving "No" is not wrong.
I think the defining moment for me to make me decide the Eucharist was bigger than this argument was Lee Davenport's cyberfuneral that was held after his real funeral. We could all discuss/debate/argue for days whether Lee's cyberfuneral had a "real" Eucharist, or whether an Internet-live-time-consecrated Triscuit and dollup of Winking Owl Merlot constituted "consecrated elements." But I know in my heart that was one of the most "real" trips to the rail I have taken in my lifetime. Whether you believe it or not, I simply don't care. The only thing I would care about is if you had the 'nads to tell me that I did something "wrong" or that my soul was in peril for thinking it. THEN, we'd have a scrap!
The bottom line, though, is this can work either way, and perhaps our true duty in this, however we see it personally, or in a parish, is, because of our OWN Baptismal Covenant, to transmit "what the Eucharist is all about" in a loving, inviting way. The Eucharist is bigger than all of us, and no human alive can control or bind its power. Period.
(WARNING: Graphic news footage)
The word on Daily Kos is that the young woman shot to death in Tehran in this video was named Neda--"Voice." Her death certainly speaks volumes in a country where women have no voice. Her father is begging, in Farsi, for her to open her eyes. Unfortunately, they are open with the stare of death.
I got this link from my former student Hamid.
Hamid is here in the US, making a good life for himself. One sister lives in Australia. But the bulk of the rest of his relatives still live in Tehran.
When he sent me the e-mail, he had added, "I can not take it anymore.... this could have been my sister....."
Hamid has not heard from any of his relatives in Iran for a day or so now. He reported to me that the government "has been shooting down the cellphone towers, internet, and landline services." I know some people are still getting out on the ground on Twitter.
I have known half a dozen or so Iranian medical students well over the years. I know this much--1979 is still in their minds if they were alive then, or it is in their family's collective minds if they were too young to remember "The Revolution", as the all call it. The politics don't matter--they remember the bloodshed. They remember death. They remember the loss of their relatives.
I'll admit something...there is a part of me when some country in the Middle East starts up, goes, "Oh, hell, not again," and can have a tendency to be dismissive. But I can't be dismissive of this. Neda has seen to it. So has Hamid, who was one of my favorite medical students over the years, and who I know is praying his socks off for God to be with his family in these hours of fear in Tehran. It doesn't matter to me that his prayers are Muslim ones. I just know that in these next few days, my prayers will mix with his. If you have a chance, please remember Hamid's family over the next few days.
(Jesus Pez Dispenser courtesy of A Little Leaven)
Well, it all started from a thread at Elizabeth's place. Here's an excerpt from her post:
So, I was having this conversation with a friend who was very concerned about the finances of his church.
He was anxious about how they were going to balance the church budget. How to cut expenses? Where to begin? How do you define the 'non-essentials' in a church budget and what are they?
Turns out, that last question was a real humdinger!
He was trying to justify cutting the Outreach line item. That's the first place he turned with his red pen.
Really? I asked. You would start to balance the budget by first cutting Outreach?
Yeah, he says. You know. Like when you're on an airplane. The flight attendant always says In the event of an emergency place the oxygen mask on yourself first and then care for any dependent children or adults.
Well, I say, why not just cut the rector's position? I mean, except for Sunday and some sacramental acts and, perhaps, and a few pastoral emergencies, everything else can be done by volunteers. At the very least, you can cut his position in half and save yourself a ton of money.
Horrified, he says . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .(Are you ready for this?). . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . He says, "Whaaa? . . . Well. . . . that would be like . . . . . .
. . . (okay, here it is, swear to God this is true) . . . . . . .
. . . . . having an ice cream truck without a driver."
(A few moments of silence to let the words and images sink in).
Not "a ship without a captain."
Not, "a plane without a pilot."
Not, "a train without a conductor."
AN ICE CREAM TRUCK WITHOUT A DRIVER.
Really? I ask. Is that what you think about church and your rector?
Yes, he brightens. Of course. I go to church once a week for a spiritual treat. It picks me up. It's very important to me. It makes my whole week.
I realize that he's telling me the truth. From his heart.
I sort of stared at her post a while, and a lot of responses popped into my head...many of them with words containing 4 letters.
I had commented to her on the thread a little about my own realizations that she and her priestly peers are not simply "Eucharistic Pez Dispensers" (Hence the wonderful photo above...).
Then some other things came to mind.
Is this what people really want in their "religion?" A sweet dollop of junk food? Little pellets of Jesus candy?
It gives me those moments of "Maybe I'm all wet, here." There's a big new popular church in town that has four "campuses" (CAMPUSES? Ok, so I can be an "eternal spiritual college student?" Uh....um....). They say things on their web site like:
"We work hard at being relevant and having good bands, messages, videos, etc, but in the end, it all comes back to the simple moment that goes on between you and God, one on one."
"(We) made the decision to tighten the focus on “seekers”...to find a neutral environment that would be less intimidating. We decided to “get uncomfortable” so that others would feel “more comfortable.”
Maybe people really do want it all to be a treat. Or at least think they do.
I'm going to try to be fair here. I really do think those of us in the "liturgical tradition" don't do a really great job of seeming relevant. We do love our connection with the "ancient," and "ancient" is not cool. I am sure these more or less "non-denominational" churches have people in them who are truly spiritual people. But I also wonder how many people come in, enjoy the entertainment, and call it good for the week, with little thought the rest of the week. I wonder how many of them get "their crises solved for them" in terms of the counseling they get. I wonder how many people are begging for beef stew and realize they are being handed ice cream week after week. Most importantly, I wonder if they never disconnect "feeling close to God" with "feeling good."
I have two thoughts creeping in my brain. One is that some of the times I have actually felt closest to God emerged from my despair. The other is that in the middle of all this vocal and glitzy praise, this image of God looking down and going, "Ok, ok, so you love me...but when are y'all gonna shut up and LISTEN to me?"
It was the phrase "neutral environment" that really made me swallow hard. Neutral? What's "neutral?" ALL of the environment belongs to God. I'm assuming that they mean, "No stained glass windows, no churchy stuff, no crucifixes or crosses on the wall," stuff like that. But the "church" is not a building. It's the whole world. It's me alone in my yard with the chiminea and a fire. It's praying for those on my Facebook status updates. There IS no "neutral environment."
I have a funny prayer about this...
I pray that people tire of ice cream.
I pray that the sacraments become more than Pez to people.
But most of all, oddly enough, I pray that these big "seeker-centered, neutral environment" churches do bring in a lot of people...and that maybe that some of them, after they have an entryway to God, they come to realize of their own accord over time, with God's help, that they would like to "graduate" and leave the structured confines of their "campus" for a deeper, more inward brand of faith.
I loathe "sheep rustlers," but I have made a lifelong habit of "taking in strays." I think about my own journey that brought me to my own church. I pretty much wandered in like a stray dog, turned around three times, plopped down on the carpet, then looked up and went, "So when do we eat?" So rather than grumble at what I don't like about "church entertainment", or the whole mega-church praise thing, I think instead I will pray about the blessings of taking in strays. There are always going to be people who tire of big and glitzy, and maybe I just need to be more aware of my own skills in discerning those people, and being welcoming in an authentic way to share what has become "meat and potatoes" to me!
(Photo nicked from http://www.argophysics.com/dwyer//coffee/index.htm)
Uh...in plain English, "Blessed are You, Lord God of the Universe, creator of coffee."
This morning is a day why I am realizing why many of us regard coffee as "The 8th Sacrament."
One of the things I love about summer Saturday mornings is that I love to sit in the dewy early morning of my yard, with the chirping birds, and the wind and the sun and the clouds and the outdoor noises, and my morning coffee.
Have you ever noticed just how more powerful, how more...um...divine?...coffee smells outside, whether it is on a camping trip, or standing outside, or just any outdoor activity you want to name? Those beans just seem to emanate a smell that is literally miscible with the outdoors.
Then there is the taste of it outside. Why is it that coffee seems richer, fuller, more perfect, when consumed outside? But it does.
My walking buddy A. and I were talking about "blessings" the other day. A. is Jewish, and fairly observant at that, when it comes to his daily prayers. We were joking the other day about how there "is a 'Baruch' for everything." (The one we liked in particular was the blessing for people who look unusual...it's basically, "Blessed are You, Lord God of the Universe, who makes diversity."
Well, if the ancient Hebrews had known what coffee was, they would have blessed it.
As for me, I am truly addicted to the stuff. If I don't have some by 7:30 every morning, I will have a tremendous headache. My usual time for my first cup is 6:15 a.m. I make it when the dogs wake me up at six, and then take the dogs out. I return to my first cup. That first swallow, that first gulp, is a rush I cannot describe. I hate to admit it, but if someone put the choice in my head at 6:15 a.m. of "Orgasm? Or coffee?" I'd pick the coffee.
But coffee makes me realize the power of blessings in small packages, and in things ordinary. Thanks be to God for the day some prehistoric South Americans looked at a coffee tree and said, "Hey, let's dry those beans and grind them up and pour hot water over it and drink that stuff!"
Ok, I am now up to John 8 in my slow struggle through the book of John. Chapters 7 and 8 have been incredibly slow going for me; the "Tabernacle discourse" seems soooooo circular at times.
But, hey, let’s start off this week with one of my “favorite mysteries in the Bible,” John 8:5-6:
“Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.”
I sure hope that when I finally get to have a conversation with Jesus, he has a “Frequently Asked Questions about me” sheet, and this one is on it, or else I’ll just have to ask him myself. I have always wondered what he wrote on the ground that caused the crowd to re-think stoning the woman caught in adultery.
I don’t even speculate what he might have written. I do have my “flip answer”, though, given the fact two Very Big Somethings are missing in this story...I like to joke that maybe he wrote...
“Where’s her husband, and where’s the other guy?”
Have you ever noticed in this story that neither the husband nor the lover are nowhere to be seen?
If you look in Leviticus, Lev. 20:10 says, “If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death.”
Ok, so where’s the guy?
Also, this story is “early in the morning.” Where’s the husband? Did he catch her? Is he trumping something up? Is he out of town? Are the Pharisees trumping something up because she smarted off to them or they just don’t like her? Did they raid her house? What’s up here?
There is something in this story that smells of “kangaroo court.”
But the fact of the matter is, whatever Jesus wrote, (and I don’t even pretend to know, honestly) it led to him telling the crowd “Ok, fine. Whichever one of y’all is sinless, go ahead and take a pot shot with a rock at her. Have at it.”
But they lost their taste for the notion. Also, do you ever notice in the story, the elders—the scribes and Pharisees—were the first to leave. Hmmmm. Wonder what THAT was all about. It leads to me seriously thinking the thing was all trumped up.
If the husband WERE there, he’d either be having a change of heart about it, begging them not to, or would be really pissed and yelling, “Yeah! Stone the bitch! She cheated on me!”
If she was caught “in the act”, well, where’s the guy? Some naked or half dressed guy certainly couldn’t get far (unless he had just pulled up his robe to do it, ha ha...I have always figured the answer to “what did Biblical people wear under their robes?” is “nothin.” hee hee) But something “just ain’t right” here. She says in verse 11 that “no one has condemned her.” Well, that’s kind of a mysterious answer since she just got hauled into court and was accused of a condemnable offense.
Or, maybe she WAS caught in the act and John just did a crappy job of putting the details in b/c he was more interested in telling the reader that the woman was “dead to rights” and was pardoned for something “she didn’t deserve to be pardoned for,” and that is sort of what Jesus is all about. I don’t know.
But this verse has a personal parallel.
There is no doubt that things have been happening to me to make me re-think my positions on a lot of things. So I guess a more personal way of asking that question is, “What did Jesus write on the ground of my being, that changes the part of my heart that condemns myself and others?”
What does Jesus write upon me that makes me change my own mind about tossing a rock at me?
What does Jesus write upon me that causes me to soften my heart about anger I might feel to others?
What does Jesus write upon me that causes me to “re-think my position” on so many things?
What does Jesus write upon me that tells me to sit still with things, to be silent, to simply “be” with God instead of rushing off to “do”?
The answer is the same...”I don’t know, and I don’t even care to speculate. I just know Jesus ended up telling me something that turned my heart.”
