I do not remove black from my home but...

I am a fan of the book “The Evolution of God” even though it is at times laborious to read and sometimes feels like a conspiracy theorist making his/her case. While I do not have the time to go though the entire book I wanted to share a line from the book and then what it evoked in me.

The author is talking about the rituals that a fisherman and canoe builders in ancient tribes would do in order to ‘please the gods’ of their home or tribe. Some of these things that were done seemed rather odd and seemingly unrelated to fishing or canoe crafting, but the author writes, “is indeed hard to argue that removing all black from the home is, in and of itself, time well spent for the ambitious angler. Still, the combined effect of all these rituals was to cloak the business of canoe building and fishing in an air of solemnity that presumably encouraged exacting and conscientious performance.”

While it seems sort of silly for me to think that people believed a bigger catch or better canoe would result in the removal of the color black from their homes, I can appreciate it.

What I mean is that I too have my rituals and my disciplines which, to some viewing them from afar, might seem silly or unrelated. I read the Bible. I engage in conversations on theology. I maintain a blog. I cross my forehead, wipe my face and kiss my left ring finger after a prayer. I worship on Sunday. I even have a ritual when I get to work each day.

Ritual is something in my life that is very helpful not because I believe I am persuading the ‘gods’ to work on my behalf as though my wishes are first on God’s ‘to do list’. Nor do I engage in rituals in order to keep ‘the gods’ happy. I do not worship to persuade or keep God happy. I worship, I partake in ritual in part because it “encourages exacting and conscientious” living.

Everyone has rituals in their lives. You might not even be aware of them. So the next time I see someone praying in a certain way, walking in a certain way, or even to the extent of practicing what I might consider “superstitions”, I will give pause to consider that perhaps their ritual may not be as silly as it looks.

Theologizing on Dave Balter mini-essay in the “What Matters Now” project – “Dumb"

A long time ago, starting a company that made software for computers was dumb. Microsoft and Apple may beg to differ. A company that manufactured cars: dumb. Putting a college yearbook online: dumb. Limiting updates to just 140 characters: dumb.

Here's what's easy: to regonize a really smart new business concept as just that. What's hard is recognizing that the idea you think is just plain dumb is really tomorrow's huge breakthrough.

But what makes dumb, smart? The ability to look at the world through a different lens from everyone else. To ignore rules. To disregard the 'why's' and 'how's' and 'never-succeeded-befores'. Then you need conviction, and the ability to stand by that conviction when other (smart) people look at you in the eye and say, "no way, nuh uh."

So, how do you tell a good dumb idea from a bad dumb one? Good dumb ideas create polarization. Some people will get it immediately and shower it with praise and affection. Others will say it's ignorant and impossible and run for the hills. The fiercer the polarization, the smarter your dumb idea.

Of course, dumb can just be dumb. You just have to be smart to tell the difference.

This essay evoked in me a question as to why we in church leadership, generally, are afraid of the word polarization? Jesus polarized people - boy did he ever! Mother against daughter and brother against brother as the scripture goes. I want to share a quote from a favorite thinker of mine James Alison:

"Someone who begins to believe in the living God automatically begins to lose faith in the inevitability of things, in fate, in the sacredness of the social order, in inevitable progress, in horoscopes and so on, because the moment the imagination and emotional and mental structures begin to absorb what is meant by the vivaciousness of the Creator God who brings into being and sustains all things, all those other elements start to be revealed as part of a dead sacred order, as attributions of divinity and thus fixity, to things which are human, which are structured socially, culturally and economically, and are for that reason dependent upon human responsibility and potentially mutable through the exercise of that same responsibility."

Beyond being one of the longest constructed sentences in known existence, this quote speaks about the polarization the Gospel creates. The Gospel takes us on a process characterized by the collapse of certain sacred structures. Specifically, the Gospel leads us down a path that calls us to abandon anything which contributes to the sacrifice of others. The Gospel leads us down a road that calls into question ANYTHING that leads us to victimize anyone/anything. Which might even be something that we, at this point, would consider foundational to our religious tradition. It might lead us down the path of abandoning some traditional and popular understandings of why Jesus died.

How fast are we willing to fail?

"It’s important that nobody gets mad at you for screwing up. We know screwups are an essential part of making something good. That’s why our goal is to screw up as fast as possible."

—Lee Unkrich, director of Toy Story 3

I ran across this quote the other day and it really jazzed me up in regards to the life of the church. What I mean is that we seem to have a great aversion (generally speaking) to failure in the life of the church. I have yet attended a clergy meeting which everything was not a 'success'. If there are failures that are brought up in conversations, I am not privy to those conversations.

So I share this quote with you, those readers who humble me with your time, in order to ask the question, "When and where was the last time you failed in ministry?"

Are you failing fast enough?

I will post tomorrow the last time I failed.