Automatic Water Faucets and Humility

The guy at the sink did every move imaginable - the standard-palm-slow-push, the blackjack-dealer-hand-flip, the peanut-butter-finger-spread, the three-stooges-hand-up-and-down, and the catch-a-fly-clap - all to no success.

And he was getting visibly frustrated that he slid down to the sink net to me, hopeful that faucet would produce the water needed to wash off his soapy hands. After he apologized for violating the unspoken rule in men’s restrooms (known in the south as the “Porcelain gap”), he then said something I will never forget. “I hate having to beg for water.”

No wonder Christianity is a tough sell to the world.

Christianity teaches about the need to let go of control, the value of humility, and how we are not self-reliant. I am aware that automatic faucets are not the greatest things in the world, but I am saying that there is something for each of us to experience being a beggar. For we are each just that, beggars for mercy and grace. The Good News is that God is the source and giver of mercy and grace.

The tough part is that when we receive mercy and grace it feels like we did not do anything to earn it or that we deserve it. It is almost as though we were beggars who received that which was given by another.

Those water faucets (and paper towel dispensers while we are at it) are opportunities for those of us who have to practice what it is like to be in need. What it feels like to beg for something and have to rely on someone/something else for help.

And if we are going to get frustrated when that water does not come out right when we ask for it, perhaps we can consider our fellow sister or brother in need who is asking and we are just as difficult as the faucet in that bathroom that refused to share the water.

Spiritual Hypothermia

There continues to be a conversation within the UMC about the need for or the emphasis on different metrics. More often than not, the conversation about metrics and numbers is quickly tampered with the need for accompanying narratives. That is to say, that it is not just numbers but the stories in tandem that are important.

However noble the goal of marrying metrics and narrative, in practice the metrics win out. In part because they are easier to capture and they are easier to read and digest. It is why the USA Today has those little numbers on the bottom of each section highlighting something newsworthy. It is also why the internet is full of “top ten” lists and perhaps is the only reason that “10 weird things kids do at communion I wish more adults would do” is my most popular post - ever.

Numbers are easily digestible and give us a sense that we understand something about that which is measured. Stories are even more powerful than numbers, but that power is a slow build. It takes time to read the story and it takes imagination to understand the power within the story. Thus stories are often lost in the effort to marry metrics and narratives.

Recently I was in a conversation with a District Superintendent from New Mexico, Dr. Eduardo Rivera, who used the phrase “spiritual hypothermia” to describe the state of the UMC. Here is what he said:

Spiritual hypothermia: the gradual decline of vitality and of resources given to the extremities of the church that keep its witness and presence in the world (we often speak of the church being the hands and feet of Jesus - In spiritual hypothermia those are the first to go). What happens next is a church that enters a survivalist mode that only keeps its vital functions alive (sadly, only for a reduced time).

There is much to consider in what Dr. Rivera says for us as a denomination. How do we know if we are in a state of spiritual hypothermia? What one might call an extremity of the Church another might call that same thing vitally core? How do we know the difference?

Those suffering from hypothermia highly privilege knowing the number of heartbeats in a minute and know their core temperature. In a state of hypothermia there is a hyper focus on the vital signs of your body: heart beat, breaths per minute, temperature, etc. It is much less important in such a state to take a stock of the inner life of your soul or even how your actions affect the lives of others. The narratives take a back seat to the numbers when in suffering from hypothermia.

As the UMC considers her future structure and make up, pay attention to what information is privileged in the conversation. Is the conversation focused on the numbers of people in worship or the amount of money the denomination is loosing? Does the conversation focus on the numbers of churches or people that might leave? Or even who gets what amount of money?

Or will the narratives and stories be what we privilege as we consider the future of the UMC? Will we focus on the what God might be doing in and through us? Will we focus on the reality that the UMC is on the precipice of discovering a different way to live together that is different from other denominations that have only found the way to the courtroom? Can we privilege the knowing of how the UMC is being used by God to draw people closer into relationship and converting hearts?

When you visit a doctor, they look over your vital signs. However, when we are healthy, the doctor only looks at these signs once or twice a year. It is only when we are sick that we need a doctor to look at these signs every day or week. It is not that these metrics are unimportant it is only the degree of privilege given to them that is a symptom of possible spiritual hypothermia.

The Boxing Preacher

Preachers have different goals to their preaching styles and content. Some talk about changing our heads and thus preach intellectually engaging sermons. Others talk about changing our hands and give us actionable steps to go out into the world and do something. Still others speak of preaching to the heart so that over time the heart is converted to Christ and love for neighbor expands beyond our small identities. Still others argue for a combination of these three goals.

In this way, preaching is like boxing. Using different moves, statements and arguments, the preacher is attempting to spar with the congregation. Not in a combative way, but in a way that builds stamina and endurance for the struggles of life.

Photo by Johann Walter Bantz on Unsplash

And so, many preachers are looking for the one line, the one idea the one point for a sermon that can “land”. Something so poignant, clever, beautiful or compelling that it hits people and knocks them off their feet. Some preachers might even try to preach to hit you in the face so hard that it knocks you out! The preacher is trying to land blows on a congregation that is sparing with her.

However, in our attempts to "“knock people out” or “hit em in the head” with such powerful sermons, we are overlooking that Jesus is more of a body puncher than one who goes for the face.

Going for the knock out blow is quick and exciting, and going for the body is slow and less flashy. The preacher who “hits” people in the stomach with the sermon, may never knock anyone out. But after we are hit in the body a few times our breathing changes.

Rather than preach to the head, hands or heart, what would it look like for the preacher to preach to the breath.

What would it look like for sermons not to change our minds or even our hearts, but the very way we breathe? The very way we take in and let go of the breath/spirit in our lungs?

Reading the Bible Like a Zacchaeus

Canadian Lutheran theologian Jann E. Boyd Fullenwieder wrote in Proclamation: Mercy for the World:

Like Zacchaeus of old, we climb up into the scriptures, a great tree of life grafted to the Crucified One’s cross, that we might see Jesus. There we discover that we, too, are seen, named, invited, and welcomed to share the life of God, whom we spy through the branches and leaves of scripture, even as Christ has already spied us.

Photo by Jon Asato on Unsplash

First of all, can we just admire the beauty of Fullenwieder’s language?

Reading the Bible is much less about learning all the nuances of the leaves and branches and much more about an encounter with the Divine. It is less about knowing how to understand the Bible as it is about seeing and being seen by Christ. If our engagement with the scriptures lead us to know more about the Bible but nothing about Jesus Christ then we are just studying dead trees.

If our Bible study is interested in “going deep into the word” then we may very well miss an encounter with Christ as we are busy with our heads in the book.

Perhaps the reason reading the Bible for many of us is boring is that we are reading it like we read a map: for information. Scripture reading is less about the information in the tree and more about looking for God, who knows your name and invites you to join in the journey.