Driven to Wonder

over a cup of hot coffee

A different kind of foreign policy July 16, 2008

Filed under: leadership, politics — krisanneswartley @ 8:12 am

I find Obama’s thoughts on foreign policy intriguing. If you care to listen to (or read) this speech, which I know some of you may not, listen for the way he talks about the rest of the world, people who are not Americans.

http://my.barackobama.com/page/content/newstrategy

I do not claim to have much knowledge about foreign policy, but I do see a marked contrast between the current administration’s posture toward the rest of the world and Barack Obama’s.  Idealistic? Naive? Maybe. But perhaps it is time, as he suggests, to stop using our military to solve international problems and start using a different kind of diplomacy.

 

“The Shack” of my religion July 11, 2008

Filed under: spiritual life, theology — krisanneswartley @ 2:11 pm

I should probably be doing homework right now, or practicing piano for Sunday (or for one of the two weddings I’m playing for this summer)… but instead I’m here in my chair with my laptop on my lap… I need to think.

My pastor is using William P. Young’s book The Shack for her July sermon series. In case you haven’t heard of this novel, let me give you a very general synopsis: The main character, a husband and father, known as Mack, loses his youngest daughter Missy to a murderer while they are on a camping trip. They find her bloody clothing in a shack, deep in the woods. About two years later, the sadness and pain still consuming him, Mack gets a letter from God (an actual letter!).  The letter invites him back to that shack to spend time with God. Reluctantly, Mack goes… and experiences a weekend of profound transformation and healing.  This book is filled with theology and it touches on questions and struggles with which all of us must grapple, to one degree or another.  Some of the themes include forgiveness, the nature of the Trinity, suffering, grief, the nature of our relationship with God, surrender, judgment and judging, pride and humility, love and free will.

I continue to replay in my mind many of the scenes from this beautiful book. One of them in particular relates to a topic I’ve talked about quite a bit in my blog– humility and the sin of judging one another.  After spending some time with Jesus (Mack spends extensive time with each Person of the Trinity during his weekend at the shack), he is led into the center of a mountain by a beautiful woman. Later, we discover that she is Sophia, the personification of God’s Wisdom from the book of Proverbs.  In the darkness, Her light illuminates two chairs and a desk. The seat behind the desk is the seat of The Judge (Mack knows this instinctively). The seat in front of it is that of the accused, meant for him.  But Sophia insists he take the seat of The Judge. She says, “Judging requires that you think yourself superior over the one you judge. Well, today you will be given the opportunity to put all your ability to use. Come on, I want you to sit here. Now.” (p. 159).

Though he possesses enough humility to know that he doesn’t belong in that seat, he obeys. Sophia tells him that he will be judging the human race. “And why not?” she asks. “Surely there are many people in your world you think deserve judgment. What about men who beat their wives or mothers who beat their children? … And what about the man who preys on innocent little girls? Isn’t HE guilty?”

“Yes!” screams Mack. “Damn him to hell!” (pp. 159-161).

That’s our dilemma, isn’t it? There are people who do things that turn our stomachs and enrage us. Unjust awful, horrible things. How can we NOT judge them?  But Sophia says something later that stopped me cold… “Well, then, Mack, how far back do we go? Do we also damn his father, who twisted his son into a terror? And damn also his mother and her father and his grandfather…. all the way back to Adam? Damn them all? … And God? Is God to blame for all of this? Isn’t this where you are stuck, Mackensie? Isn’t this what fuels the Great Sadness?  That God cannot be trusted? Surely you can judge God for failing you and failing Missy… you would have been a better father.” (p. 161)

Judging God. None of us would admit that, would we… that we judge God for the times He fails, fails to protect us, to defend us against our enemies, to show up for us? But, yes, I’ve judged God. He didn’t destroy the cancer that ate up my mother’s body. He didn’t convict the church people who went after my father without just cause. And I knew I would have done better had I been in charge.

But the truth is… and Young says later in the book… God has His eye on a great work of redemption that is so complex and outside my ability to perceive. Evil is certainly at work here. People do awful things. But God is about redeeming it and using it for His Great Good. He loves all His children, even the ones who do horrid things. He is seeking to redeem the WHOLE creation… everyone and all of it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I have to trust Him, even when I don’t understand.

At one point in the story, Sarayu (the Holy Spirit) invites Mack to do some gardening with her. As they work in what appears to be a very messy and chaotic garden, untrimmed and randomly planted, Mack begins to see a pattern.  Sarayu explains that she has a fondness for fractals… things that look chaotic and random up close, but actually have beautiful patterns when you see them at a distance. I find that thought fascinating, and something about the idea of fractals makes sense to me when I think about how God works.  In my humanness His ways seem so random and un-purposeful, but given time and space, perhaps I can slowly begin to see the pattern of His Love emerging.

 

33 years July 3, 2008

Filed under: family, spiritual life — krisanneswartley @ 12:03 pm

On Saturday, I will celebrate my 33rd birthday.  Here are a few things I’ve learned (hopefully learned well) in these short years:

Keep it simple (thanks, Mom!).  Whether it’s travelling, hosting people in my home, maintaining the family schedule or working on a project– simple is better. Enjoy the experience rather than stressing over a million details.

People more than things.  Relationships are the meat of life… things aren’t. Take time to talk and take time to connect. It’s too easy to take relationships for granted.

Forgiveness.  Everyone sins, in large ways or small. Everyone has their blind spots. Circumstances are often much more complicated than they seem.  “it could have been me.”  Forgive as I have been forgiven.

Listen before you speak. Don’t make assumptions. So many times, I have thought I knew what someone was thinking or feeling, and those assumptions caused huge misunderstandings and hurt feelings where there didn’t need to be. Listen, listen, listen.

Life is hard. Relationships are hard. Decisions are hard. Transitions are hard. The brokenness in the world is agonizing. Sickness and death are so difficult. It’s the reality… yet God is near.

Life is good. In the cycles of birth, living, and death– even in the midst of so much pain and change– life is rich and full and there is joy and peace.

Humility is key. I am quickly tiring of the labeling, the pigeon-holing, the lack of humility between us. There is no reason we cannot listen to one another and respect one another’s views. We will disagree; we will see from different perspectives, but the name-calling and disrespect are not worth it. Being right is not worth the damage we do to one another. Let’s be humble before one another and God.

I’m sure there is more I will think of later… but for now, this is what I’ve learned in life. May I be moldable and humble to learn more. Thanks, God, for the richness of my life, even the painful parts, even the parts I did not choose for myself, yet you gave them anyway. I hope my life pleases You.

 

Humanity, Men and Women June 25, 2008

Filed under: church, justice, theology — krisanneswartley @ 9:28 pm

In the past few years I have tried very hard to be tolerant of the popular Christian lingo in evangelical circles— MAN means humanity.  It includes everyone.  Most people mean that when they say MAN… they mean all people everywhere. And so I have tried to hear it that way.  But my patience has been wearing thin lately.

Why not just say “humanity” or “people”? Why use a gender specific word when you mean something gender inclusive? Is it really that much harder to say “Jesus paid the price for humanity,” rather than “Jesus paid the price for MAN”?  Really?

And if it’s just habit, would it be so bad to work at changing that habit, on behalf of all our sisters out there… I mean, it’s not all about what is easiest for us, right? Our faith is about loving others and acting in loving ways toward others.  This is such a small sacrifice to make, to simply say exactly what we mean.

If I know what these people mean when they say MAN, you may be wondering why it’s bugging me.  And here’s the reason: Because it is simply one more way that women are ignored, pushed to the side in evangelical circles, asked to “get over it already.” Well, I tried. And now I’m asking my brothers to try something as well. I am not a man. That’s a fact. So when your are speaking about me or others like me, when we are included in a group that you’re talking about, could you please do us the respect of using a word that actually does include us?

Okay, I will step down off my soap box now… just some food for thought, for all those friendly readers who tend to use male language when they mean groups that include both male and female members. Thank you.

 

Rights and Interests June 25, 2008

Filed under: community, justice, politics — krisanneswartley @ 9:14 pm

I’ve told a good friend of mine a number of times that I have a terrible political mind. I find it difficult to think like a politician. It’s terribly uncomfortable for me. Let me illustrate: There is a phrase that the candidates have been using lately that grates against my values.  “I will protect American interests overseas!”  Now, I’m sure that’s what politicians are supposed to say. I’m sure that is what our government servants are supposed to do, protect our interests above all others… but I don’t like it. I don’t think that, as a Christ-follower, it is something I can fully and whole-heartedly support. (I told you…. bad political mind)

Here is my problem (and I’m wondering if there are any other evangelical Christians who struggle with this, too): My citizenship knows no national boundary.  I have brothers and sisters all over the world who also have interests and rights, some of them are rich and powerful and some of them are poor and have no voice in their government or its policies. Some of them own no land, no home, have no job.  Some benefit from our country’s foreign policy, but some of them suffer greatly from our actions (such as our sanctions against abusive governments, but also because of American corporations and the laws that protect them).

We consume so much of the world’s resources and spend so much energy trying to police the governments of the world…. our politicians promise that we will have what we “need” (more likey ”want”) for years to come if we elect them.  They promise to keep us safe.  But at what expense? Who is looking out for the rest of God’s people?  How can I be at peace about politicians promising to protect our interests when I am aware of people all over the world who have no one (or at best, very few) people promising to protect theirs?  I am MORE than an American. That is my problem with American politics.

And then there is all the lingo about rights– my rights, your rights, the rights of the unborn, the rights of the accused, the rights of immigrants, the rights of single parents, of underage children, of animals, of women, minorities, men.  Who decides whose rights are valued more, who gets first priority? Sadly, it seems wealth and power often decide… as a white woman, I have seen both sides of this. I have such privilege and opportunity as an American. Yet, I have seen and felt what it is like to be pushed down, unheard, hands tied, passed over… a small taste, but I have experienced it.  My right to pursue happiness may collide with someone else’s right to survive.  Your right to eat until you’re satisfied may mean someone else cannot. His right to the job he wants may mean someone else has to take a job that pays barely enough to feed his family. America’s right to oil and its right to prevent attacks against its citizens means other people die.

I, of course, want my rights and interests protected, and those of my husband and children as well. They need to be protected. But I also want leaders who have a view wider and larger than this country. America is one among many nations. We are not the best. We are not always right or always good. There are other people out there with rights and interests. They should be protected, too. And if it’s not a Christian politician’s job to do that, whose job is it?

 

A trip to the ER June 20, 2008

Filed under: children, parenting, spiritual life — krisanneswartley @ 8:24 pm

Today was a day of the unexpected, unplanned and unpleasant… which is prone to happen when you’re a parent.  Heidi fell while she was running outside today and there was enough blood that we decided to take her directly to the ER.  It turned out that they needed to put her under general anesthesia to put in the stitches.

Before we even knew the diagnosis, Heidi was terrified of the thought of needles, to the point of refusing to go into the car, into the building, into the exam room. She would stiffen up and repeat, “No, mommy, no! I’m not going! I can’t stand it! It’s going to hurt. I don’t want it, I’m not going. No, no, no!”

For my part, I was almost as frightened as her. Before the doctor finally came into the room and looked at her injuries and told us the plan, I kept wondering what was happening… afraid for my daughter, afraid for all of us if this ended up being something more serious than just a few stitches (her injury was pretty bizarre, but I won’t go into details here, to protect Heidi’s privacy). The amount of blood alone was enough to make me feel nauseous. Those are very lonely moments as a parent, when there is no one to hold you and comfort you during your child’s crisis.

Considering Heidi’s almost-hysteria, I found myself caught between my own sense of panic and trying to be cheerful and supportive for my daughter. At one point I admited to her that I was scared, too, but that I also believed that God was with us and knew how frightened we were and would help us face whatever happened next.

The most traumatic part of our little hospital excursion was when they put the IV needle in her hand, in preparation for surgery. She stiffened up and started to panic. One nurse had to hold her arm still while the other put the needle in the vein on top of her hand. She was screaming and crying, but I got down in front of her and held her other hand and said (through my own tears), “Heidi, look at me. Look at my eyes. Don’t watch what they’re doing, look at me, honey! That’s it. Let’s sing our song. I’ll start— Jesus loves me, this I know…”  And my beautiful girl sang through her tears and sobs. She kept looking at me and singing her song even though she hated every minute of what was happening to her and didn’t want to do it. She still sang. She kept looking at her mama’s eyes.

I remember many days when I have sung through my pain– when I didn’t believe the words I was singing, but sang anyway. I would do my best to keep my Savior’s loving gaze, even when I hated what was happening to me and blamed him for it.  Stubborn determination. Stubborn faith in the midst of chaos and the unknown.

You’re a beautiful, brave girl, Heidi. Mama’s proud.

 

Yes and No June 18, 2008

Filed under: leadership, spiritual life — krisanneswartley @ 3:49 pm

I am posting a link to an article below. This article was passed along to me by the pastor at Highland Park Community Church, the church where I am serving as Pastoral Intern of Worship and Arts. My last three posts have linked you with intelligent, strong, faithful women… women who have courageously embarked on the journey of ministry and leadership, who have found their own voice and their own way of living, women who have delved deeply into life and have refused to “settle” for the status quo that traditional Christian society would place upon them as women. To my male and female readers: I hope these women have stretched you, if you have taken the time to read their writing.

The following article addresses an issue I am currently confronted with in my internship.  Which tasks to I say “yes” to, and to which do I say “no”?  How and when do I say “yes” and “no” to potential volunteers under my leadership?  When am I saying “yes” or “no” to God… and for what reasons?  I encourage you to read and reflect:

http://www.christiancentury.org/article.lasso?id=3667

 

Women and Theology June 16, 2008

Filed under: spiritual life, theology — krisanneswartley @ 5:02 pm

Jenell Paris, another blogosphere kindred spirit, whom I have blessed to find writes about the nature and purpose of theology here (it can also be seen at her site: http://jenellparis.blogspot.com/):

Wonderings

Sometimes I wonder if all theology is really theodicy. If a great idea, a great sermon, or a great exegesis doesn’t speak to your aching need, or even aggravates it, can you hear it? Four years later, I still filter Christian words, sermons, and people through my experience of infant loss. And on days when that isn’t at the tip of my emotions, I consider other people’s suffering, of which there is always plenty to consider. Today on Christian radio I heard a man say in what sounded to me like a sing-song voice, “Well, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, and Lord, we just pray for those Boy Scouts you’ve taken home to be with You.” That just seemed like the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, so I offered up a quick counter-prayer, “Lord, please don’t let those boys’ parents be listening to this radio station right now. Amen.” Maybe counter-praying is the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard, I don’t know.

Yesterday I watched A Birth Story, the cable show that shows women having babies. My heart started pounding, my uterus started cramping, and I started crying. It really took me back! When her baby was born, she cried, and I cried, and I’m sure the thousands of women who love that show cried. My body was remembering Max, my youngest son born a year ago. Like the baby in the show, he was a singleton born whole and healthy in a relatively quiet and sparse room. It was a normal birth, and he was a normal baby. The nurse handed him to me, and I held him, and felt for all the world like I was getting away with something big. I was, and I am.

When I see pregnant women, twins, triplets, hospitals, or newborns, I almost always react negatively with feelings and thoughts of nausea, vomit, pain, sickness, death, terror, and invasive medicine. This “A Birth Story” is the first time my body put the good times before the bad, calling forth the sweating, breathing, and cramping of a successful delivery instead of the panic of a doomed labor and delivery (for new readers, my first triplet pregnancy ended with the stillbirth of one and deaths of two). Maybe faith isn’t all about mind and spirit. Maybe ‘fixing’ theology isn’t the most important thing. Maybe, just maybe, by living into my reality — I really did birth a healthy baby — my body has taught my soul something about peace and rest. And of course, maybe body and soul aren’t as far apart as I might think.

——————————————————————————–

She inspires me. Sometimes I wonder if women doing theology brings theology back into the grit and grime and earthiness of the universe. Life is messy and theology should be as well! Thank you, Jenell!

 

Who am I to God? June 16, 2008

Filed under: church, leadership, theology — krisanneswartley @ 4:42 pm

A woman named Emily Hunter McGowen, whom I found through reading Natalie’s Narrative has posted some reflections on the debate among evangelicals on the “role of women” in the church.

She has hit the bullseye in my humble opinion.

http://thinklaughweepworship.blogspot.com/2008/06/not-secondary-issue.html

Thanks, Emily! I feel you are a kindred spirit, though we have never met.

Thank you, also, Natalie… again, a kindred spirit. I hope to meet you both someday.  Hang in there, sisters! Keep persevering in the face of opposition. It is truly a battle worth fighting.

 

Leadership- on mission together June 6, 2008

Filed under: church, leadership, seminary, theology — krisanneswartley @ 2:38 pm

For my seminary class on “Leading Congregational Change,” I’m reading Roxburgh and Romanuk’s book The Missional Leader: Equipping your church to reach a changing world. I actually started by just skimming this book, but it thoroughly caught my attention, so now I’m reading it more carefully.

One of the first things they do is compare the old model of “pastoral leadership” with “missional leadership.” Pastoring, for them, means the following: significant meetings always include the pastor, ordained staff take care of the people and their needs, pastor’s schedule is shaped by people’s needs, preaching and teaching is didactic and offers the answers for life, pastor is the “professional” Christian and a celebrity, pastor plays the role of conflict suppressor and peacemaker and recovery expert, he/she is a maintainer of the church.

Missional leadership, on the other hand looks like this: Pastors are cultivators of an environment, they are coaches and mentors, pastors release people for ministry and mission, they ask questions and invite people to engage scripture as a living Word, they teach using stories and metaphors, they recognize their role as significant but not the sum total of the Body, they facilitate conflict and recognize that tension is okay, they encourage imagination and creativity, and they look for local opportunities and models of ministry.

I resonate with missional leadership, but, wow is it hard to get people on board with this new model when the old one is so ingrained in their hearts and minds!!! I can hear the question, “Well, what will she DO all day if she’s not visiting the hospitals and the elderly, and attending meetings??” So why are we changing the model of church leadership?

It would be nearly impossible to deny that change is needed. Another section of this book that has caught my attention deals with the change in our culture. In this age of the information explosion and what many call ‘discontinuous change,’ the authors say: “one result of uncertainty and massive change is that people turn inward to their private selves, and at the same time turn the public world into a means of achieving their own private security or identity… The bridge between private and public has been dismantled to the point that ‘the sole grievances aired in public are sackfuls of private agonies and anxieties.’ Communication has become largely narcissistic- private therapy through public discourse with gurus such as Dr. Phil and Oprah” (p. 67). That paragraph stopped me cold. From what I’ve seen… so true. We’re so afraid– afraid of losing our rights, losing our identity, losing our way of life and whatever we have to hold onto– that we’ve crawled into our shells. We don’t really engage each other anymore or the world, for that matter.

Want to know what the authors believe the answer to be? Narrative. A story. “For people to become something more than a collection of individuals crowding together for warmth, they must recover A COMMON NARRATIVE that gives sense to the present and shapes the future” (p. 69). How simple and how profound… actually, at first it sounds silly. But I’m beginning to believe in the power of stories. They have shaped and formed me over the years, and I see them forming and shaping my own children as they grow. Maybe it’s not such a silly idea. What is my congregation’s story within God’s Great Story?

Oh, God, make me a pastor who cultivates true community and tells the Great Story and the community stories well! Amen.