Lost Symbol's a Lost Cause

This weekend I finished the Lost Symbol, Dan Brown’s latest venture into the hidden secrets of people smarter than you. If you’ve read the Da Vinci Code, or seen the movie, this is more of the same; the enlightened few protecting “the truth” from the imprudent masses. (cue Jack Nicholson yelling: “You can’t handle the truth!”)

Symbol isn’t as good as Da Vinci Code, it’s more about crafty puzzle solving and less about the Masonic order that conspiracy fanciers obsess over. Of course the book is formulated suspense to its rotten core, a mini cliff hanger ends every short chapter which, for me, got old quick. A less than believable ending twist and a laughable would-be international crisis divest what little interest the book was able to build in its 500 pages.

My reaction to Dan Brown’s last two offerings have been something less than outrage or illumination, and I think that’s what really annoys me about this book. Brown is getting the last laugh though; he’s built a fortune by writing formulaic books about hidden scandalous truths that aren’t secret, scandalous or true. Still, he’s a crafty guy.

Dig his method: First he finds some little shred of long-dismissed religious heresy and uses it to trump up a story. Only a select few know “the truth,” which if revealed would shake the world’s religious faith and foundation. Those harbingers of reality have to keep the secret under wraps to protect it’s power from the fragile small minds us dolts who buy Dan Brown books by the thousands (Our author is part of the “in the know” crowd by the way). Finally Brown laughs all the way to the bank because we read the books not even realizing that he’s insulting our intelligence and religious sophistication…and yet our faith is not shaken, the church does not implode and at the end of the day we somehow still know that God is God and we aren’t.

Still, Brown writes with a certain fervor, I think he believes he’s educating the world.

Furthermore, the scandal of Brown’s disclosure of “truth” is all stuff I’ve heard before. I’ll admit that there is more truth to many of his claims than conservative Christians care to admit, but these are generally inconsequential half-truths downplayed or ignored because they have little to do with revelation. Brown lives in the minutia, and where he gets many factoids right he keys on them in a way that distorts their place.

The last thing that irritates me about this book is that Brown takes a several shots at groups (particularly religious ones) who claim to know truth…but just a few pages later his characters are making their own exclusive claim on truth, except theirs, of course, is the “real truth.”

I thought it was interesting that Brown referenced Dürer’s engraving Melencolia I (above) as an expression of mankind’s frustration over our inability to become gods…that guy does look discouraged (Ezekiel 28:2). It’s how I feel after reading this book. Had the book been more about the Mason’s secret society and less about Brown’s misguided religious agenda it would have been more interesting. But then again, as one of the sop-headed masses, I might not know the truth if it were hidden in plain sight.

Many's the time I've been mistaken

And many times confused

Yes, and I've often felt forsaken

And certainly misused

Oh, but I'm all right, I'm all right

I'm just weary to my bones

Still, you don't expect to beBright and bon vivant

So far away from home, so far away from home



And I don't know a soul who's not been battered

I don't have a friend who feels at ease

I don't know a dream that's not been shattered or driven to its knees

but it's all right, it's all right for we lived so well so long

Still, when I think of the road we're traveling on

I wonder what's gone wrong

I can't help it, I wonder what's gone wrong



And I dreamed I was dying

I dreamed that my soul rose unexpectedly

And looking back down at me

Smiled reassuringly

And I dreamed I was flying

And high up above my eyes could clearly see

The Statue of Liberty

Sailing away to sea

And I dreamed I was crying



We come on the ship they call the Mayflower

We come on the ship that sailed the moon

We come in the age's most uncertain hours

and sing an American tune

Oh, and it's alright, it's all right, it's all right

You can't be forever blessed

Still, tomorrow's going to be another working day

And I'm trying to get some rest

That's all I'm trying to get some rest



-Paul Simon, American Tune

High Maintenance

I just had a friend call me out on my politics; “I’m surprised at how far left you are," he said, "I thought you’d be more center.” It got me thinking.

There is a funny line in the movie When Harry Met Sally when Harry and Sally are talking about women being “high maintenance” or “low maintenance.” Sally asks, “Which am I?” Harry replies, “You’re the worst kind, you think you’re low maintenance, but you’re really high maintenance.”

Could it be that I’m more partisan than I realize, thinking for instance, that I’m a moderate when I’m really liberal? I don’t really think so, but it could be.

True: I’ve been an Obama fan since he was invited to speak at the RNC well before he was nominated for the Dem’s presidential ticket; I read his book well before most folks knew his name, and where I don’t think he’s our savior (we already have one of those btw) I’d vote for him again if the election were today. I think this is because I have the “it’s time for some serious change” mindset which necessarily means a new perspective, a new way of doing business, a restructuring of priorities…which also means enduring the pain of our letting go of power, money, and old ways (a liberal thing to say). This of course runs 180 degrees counter to the conservative sensibility, but any system is perfectly aligned to get the results it’s getting…different results (think: healthcare, economy, war) aren’t gonna happen unless adjustments are made. Call me partisan, but I think I’m ready for some adjusting to the point that I’m willing to elect minorities, pay higher taxes and live within a social system I don’t always agree with simply because the system we know isn’t getting it done.

True: But that doesn’t make me a Democrat. The same argument goes for the church I’m a part of; it’s time for change and that means a serious shake up; we change or we fall. Any of you who attend non-denominational, rock and media driven, stripped-down, postmodern churches geared to include young people who’ve felt excluded or unmoved by the traditional (read: conservative) church are down with me here. Speaking politically again, most of us agree that what we've got is broken, but some of us seem pretty hostile to the idea of trying anything very different…which leaves me simply baffled.

True: I do listen to NPR a lot and I'm a fan of CNN which have their own slants, even if understated. True: I am a fan of Jim Wallace and participate with the Sojourners (link to the right). True: I’m a supporter of labor unions and formerly was an active member in one. True: I laugh out loud at John Stewart and Steve Colbert. True: I am a clergyman in one of the more socially progressive protestant church traditions.

Ok, taking all that together does sound like I may be a bit flirty with artsy, progressive/ liberal minded, wine and cheesy Dems. Still, I think the Sojourners have a rich and vitally important political critique from a solid social justice minded, theologically grounded religious standpoint. I was driven to CNN by the ridiculous, heavy-handed, even mean-spirited partisanship of Fox and MSNBC and the shallowness of network coverage. I stay with my mainline, progressive church partially because I think Jesus was basically a mainline, progressive kind of Rabbi in his own way. And Stewart and Colbert are just too sharp not to be funny. (To my credit I refuse to watch the one-sided “news” reviews from either side of the isle...if I were king, I’d outlaw the lie of pornography in all its forms.)

As I think this out I believe I’m I a sort of walking, talking variance politically speaking; I’ve been defining myself by what I’m not, attempting to prove a negative. If I look a bit left to you maybe it’s because I’m so put off by the right at the moment. True: I’m way put off by the right these days...I know that I’m not that at least, not religiously, not socially, not politically. But I believe my heart is in the right place. I believe I’m willing to make personal sacrifice to do right by others. I want my kids to know that their father was willing to work against, give against and stand against injustice and inequality despite his personal inner conflicts with the issues. True: that doesn’t sound very centrist.

I can just hear it, “You’re the worst kind, you think you’re moderate, but you’re really liberal.”

I’m guessing I could list off a bunch of facts that’d make me sound conservative to the uber tolerant, but that’s another post. For today I’m satisfied knowing that having sincere friends who speak their hearts and taking little self inventories are good things; they cause me pause me think.

How would you respond if you were called out?

Raconteurs or Rancor-teurs?

"You’ll know them by their fruit."

"Garbage in, garbage out."

There’s an interesting article dealing with race and politics on the front page of today’s Kansas City Star titled, What We Hear. (Take a look at http://www.kansascity.com/). Nine African Americans were asked what they made of the less-than civil political discourse that has emanated from the tea parties, town-hall meetings and partisan talking heads as it concerns our president. Is it race based?

This is an interesting subject to me for several reasons. One reason is because I’m interested in how religion, race, class etc. express themselves in our politics. A second reason is because I’ve been shocked at the unwillingness of those holding minority political opinions to accept the will of the American people in the last election. Thirdly, I’m greatly concerned at the radicalization of our country’s conservative base, both politically and religiously speaking.

Let me acknowledge this: There will always be knuckleheads who are racist transgressors. This is not only unenlightened, it’s petty, sinful, and un-American. Furthermore, we will sadly always have those who will employ any means at their disposal to further their radical agendas be it through slur, fear, half-truths and/or astonishing partisan rhetoric. These tactics are nothing less than evil and they should have no voice in our public debate.
(If you regularly pay attention to one of the lopsided politicos on the radio or cable TV you are being duped. And if you intuitively know that such hosts are bias to the point of inequitable partiality, and you still listen…your foolish.)

Apart from the boneheads, I don’t really think too much of the rhetoric out there is racially based. Rather I think it’s based on a extremely disconcerting program of right-wing propaganda that has hijacked notions such as “rugged individualism,” “patriotism,” “the American dream” and “gimmie that old-time religion” which in truth has entitlement, nationalism, idolatrous capitalism, and fundamentalism at its core. (One could argue persuasively that entitlement and racism are inseparable).

A similar thing happened in the early 1980s in reaction to President Carter’s administration when a band of political insiders cut deals to court conservative Christians. The result was the “Moral Majority” and the “Religious Right.” It was these well-organized and media savvy groups that commandeered the term “evangelical” which has lost it’s real meaning and now means “anti-abortion, anti-homosexual anti-liberal viewpoints and Scriptural or “Bible-believing” literalism. All of a sudden we were told that we couldn't be Christian apart from a lockstep unity on these issues, which just so happened to be conveniently associated with the platform of a particular party. It was a Christian guilt trip that served an ideology well. Thankfully the real evangelicals are finally getting over this and casting off their false yokes for ones Jesus promised would be easy and light.

Anyone who knows me well knows that the previous statement cannot necessary be taken as my endorsing or dismissing any of the aforementioned issues. I’ll never forget how my seminary classmates had me pegged as a conservative while at the same time a good number of folks at my church just knew I was a raging liberal…a non-sequitur that still brings a big ole’ smile to my face! Yes, Virginia, there are independents (and we usually get to decide the elections!)

I sense history repeating itself. This time the fundamentalists aren't using religion so much as a tool, but whispy ideals of patriotism. Again, I believe there are a few insiders behind the lashing out of the vast majority of these well-intentioned Americans. I don’t wish to dismiss anyone’s opinion, but I do wish we were a little more careful to not get played. I do wish our opinions would be curbed unless they are respectful, informed, edifying and good for us all…I have a voice in my head that keeps whispering “It’s always about liberty and justice for ALL.”

Last thing: I named my son after his great-grandfather, a man whose social outlooks and politics I generally disagreed with. This man was a staunch, dyed-in-the-wool, active member of a political party I’m really struggling to affirm as of late. Recently an uncle told me a story about my son’s namesake. A candidate from another party, a man whom my grandfather had not voted for, was elected to the presidency. My grandfather was disappointed and probably a little worried. Those around him who shared his ideals were complaining but Granddaddy said, “Well, he’s our president.” And that was that. The outcome wasn’t as he had wished, but he respected the will of the people, he respected the process, he respected the office and he accepted it and moved on. In four years he and his fellow Americans elected a different president, but until that time there was respect.

Now that's a patriot.

I Can See God

Here is a picture of my brand new elec-tro-fied, "glowing with the Spirit" Jesus nightlight. It was given to me as a thank you gift by a group from church. I gave it to my four year-old son to use in his room. That evening at bedtime he excitedly proclaimed, "I can see God...and I don't even have to go to church!"

Connected revisited

In July I posted on my discomfort with how we are more networked but less connected than ever. I mentioned that I was reading the Leonard Sweet book, So Beautiful. Well, in the September Reporter brother Sweet retorts. Check his musings out at http://www.umportal.org/

Part of what he had to say follows:

"I'm a hermit at heart. Twitter is made for hermits. It enables me to shut myself off without without shutting anything or anybody out. It enables me to simultaneously give myself away and never stop hiding. You might call the twitterscape one of social solitude.

My life is like a barbell: lots of weight on the social end and lots of weight on the solitude end -- with not much in between other than the handle (read: long lines at airports) that connects the socialness with the solitude. Twitter now lets me do my solitude in society; it lets me be anonymous in groups."

Now, I'm not foolish enough to call Dr. Sweet out, but I really struggle with anonymous discipleship or a gospel of solitude. Jesus seemed to favor being with folks, in the physically present sense. Didn't he touch people? Didn't he go be with folk that good, God-fearing people avoided? Even when asked to "just say the word" he seemed to favor going in person. To be fair, Jesus didn't have Twitter.

Maybe what I think is at stake here is incarnation, the Word made flesh. Whatever, I just can't get my head wrapped around the concept of community electrified or online as having the same value as community present.

Recently there's been talk of making Eucharist available online and what value that has or lacks apart from real, physical bread, juice and people...this is the same kind of conversation I think. ( Check out http://www.eholycom.com/ ...weird.) Give me something to hold on to, even bread, but Lord use something I can grasp!

I suppose you could make the argument that the Trinity is remote in the physically present sense and is into instant messaging more than direct communication (hold on I just got a text), but I don't think that's my experience. Evangelicals like me tend to talk about a "relationship" or "personal relationship" with God which isn't physical, but has a certain present aspect...after all we talk about having Christ or the Spirit "with" us? Even reading the Bible isn't the same without the Spirit there to read along with you, or reading to you, or reading you.

Look, I don't have a problem with online community, (shout out to my readership,) but it's just not the same as personal interaction. I'm guessing that 100% of you who read this blog on a regular basis know me personally. I read a few blogs of folks I don't know, but it's not the same as reading those of you whom I do.

Sweet makes some really interesting and valid points about followership vs. leadership...but dude, come on.

If all this befuddles you too give me a call, we'll go have a cup of coffee and hash it out.

Either Way...

Tonight I learned something I already knew but had kinda forgotten. It’s the power of forgiveness…well not exactly; the power of asking for forgiveness at least.

I’ve had “a situation” brewing at church for a few weeks with a certain individual. The “situation” finally came to a head recently and the individual decided to leave the church over it. Actually, the split wasn’t purely over the “situation” at hand, the split had begun well before my arrival, but this “situation” was the final straw. (Ok, I’ll quit with the “quotes,” it’s annoying to me too.)

I came to realize that what was, and had been taking place was a rift over theological perspectives; ecclesiology, approach to scripture, church tradition, method of crafting and delivering sermons. The hard feelings however expressed themselves in quite unrelated ways; as Rob Bell might say, “This is about that.” It’s not uncommon.

Tonight I was able to find an opportunity to talk with my estranged friend about the decision to leave. This friend expressed disappointment in the church and the last few pastors (of which I’m one) which lacked “spiritual depth.” My friend “wasn’t being fed” and stated several instances why. Furthermore leadership had clearly communicated (from my friend’s perspective) that we did not need or appreciate the service his family provided the church. As I listened I gained clearer insight into the cause of the sore that had been festering.

What’s weird was…as I understood more of the situation, the more Ok I felt about letting this individual go. I couldn’t imagine a scenario where we could agree to disagree and move on; it just wasn’t gonna happen. Whattayagonna do? There was only one option.

I acknowledged the hurt as real and said I was sorry for my part in that. Then I asked for their forgiveness and said that I hoped we could reconcile as friends. No response…so I bid them farewell and welcomed them back anytime. Then I went home and played tennis with my wife and ate potato soup.

I feel really good about the whole scenario. Well, I feel absolutely rotten about the fact that I’ve lost my first parishioner and that there’s likely to be a little fallout over the situation still, but regarding the way we parted and the terms, serenity.

Forgiveness works like that. When we forgive or are vulnerable enough to ask for forgiveness we’re beneficiaries regardless of the other person’s response. Serenity. Maybe not exactly peace just yet, I still lament the pain and loss, but calmness and repose and serenity…yes. They make potato soup taste better.

I knew that.