The Sacred Meal (Ancient Practices Series).
Nora Gallagher.
Hardback: Thomas Nelson, 2009.
Buy Now: [ ChristianBook.com ]

Reviewed by Chris Smith.

The “Ancient Practices” series from Thomas Nelson – with its deep historical rooting and careful theological attentiveness – is rapidly becoming one of my favorite ongoing series of books. Thus, I was pleased to see the release of two new volumes. The first of these volumes is Nora Gallagher’s THE SACRED MEAL, which explores the meaning of the practice of Eucharist (or communion, as it is called here Englewood and in many other churches). Gallagher eloquently reflects upon the communal nature of the Eucharist, the stages of participating in the Eucharist (waiting, receiving and afterward) and then explores the theological meaning of the bread and the cup as it has been honored in various traditions at various times in church history. My favorite chapter, however, is the book’s second-to-last chapter in which Gallagher explores the economic meaning of the Eucharist as expressed through a shared meal at a soup kitchen. “Here’s the irony,” she says, “the economy of scarcity appears to be abundant while abundance is marked by an appearance of scarcity. The scarce economy looks rich and full, but within it, people’s souls and bodies starve. The economy of abundance, on the other hand, is organized just to provide enough. Like the manna in the desert that could not be stored but was only enough to get through the day, so the economy of abundance releases no more than enough nourishment. I ran out of fruit one day (at the soup kitchen) at just the moment a farmer drove up with three cases of oranges.”

Throughout, Gallagher’s writing reminds me of one of my favorite writers, Madeleine L’Engle – in her rooting in the Episcopalian tradition, in her poignant use of personal stories and in theological clarity with which she sees complex questions like those related to the Eucharist. The Sacred Meal is another excellent book in The Ancient Practices Series and is well worth our attention and consideration.

A Conversation on the relationship
of traditional churches and the new monasticism

Date: Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Time: 5:30pm - 8:00pm

Location:
Englewood Christian Church
57 N Rural St.
Indianapolis, IN

Facebook Invite here:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=50272647267

On Wednesday evening, May 6, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove will lead us in a conversation based on the material in his book
NEW MONASTICISM:
WHAT IT HAS TO SAY TO TODAY’S CHURCH

Some topics of conversation might include:

• What is new monasticism?
• What can traditional churches learn from intentional Christian communities (and vice versa)?
• Parachurch groups vs. Pro-church ones?

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove is a founding member
of the Rutba House Community in Durham, NC
and author of several books.

Optional dinner preceding the conversation
$2/person Starting at 5:30PM

(If you are not part of Englewood Christian Church,
Please RSVP for the dinner: 317.639.1541 OR
englewoodcc [ at ] indy [dot ] rr [ dot ] c o m )

Conversation with Jonathan 6:30PM-8PM

We will take up a freewill offering for Jonathan’s
work with the Schools for Conversion.

Recently, because my son Noah has been diagnosed with Hodgkins’ lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph system, I’ve been thinking a lot about what cancer is and what it means to live in a world where cancer abounds. Put simply, cancer can be described as rebellion at the cellular level. Typically, as a body need more cells, older ones die off and new ones are produced. However, in some situations with certain combinations of genetic and environmental factors, cells can start to rebel and divide, making new cells when they are not needed; this condition is what we know as cancer. In many ways, cancer is a physiological manifestation of the rebellion of a fallen world. From the Garden of Eden to Western individualism, we the church use the term “sin” to describe this rebellion against Creator and creation. As Noah has started his chemotherapy treatments this week, I’ve been surprised by the intensity of it all – a combination of oral and IV drugs, which over the course of four months aim to kill off the cancer, but also will likely bring along a host of side effects: hair loss, moodiness, vulnerability to infections, etc.

And so, I wonder why we in the church do not taken rebellion/sin more seriously – and seek to “treat” it so intensely, as we treat the cellular rebellion that we call cancer? Certainly, there are personal forms of rebellion that require confession and restoration. However, there are many fruits of rebellion whose origins are much more complex – illness, death, injustice, strife (The story of Jesus healing the blind man, found in John 9, comes to mind here. The disciples asked “Who sinned? This man or his parents?” To which, Jesus replies “Neither.”). To these, our first response should be grief. Scot McKnight notes, in his new book Fasting (click here for my review), that fasting is a body’s natural response to grief. We should not fast, he says, to achieve a specific end, but rather to pour out our grief over our rebellion and that of a fallen world.

Beginning today, we enter the church’s season of Lent, a time when God’s people have historically grieved the rebellion of humanity. I hope and pray that during Lent this year, we will begin to learn anew how to grieve our sin and rebellion and that of the world. Getting my head shaved for Noah last Sunday night was a fun thing to do, but it is also a bodily reminder of our need to address rebellion in radical ways (just as the intense regiment of chemotherapy addresses the rebellion of cancer). During Lent, and throughout Noah’s treatments, I will be praying, fasting (at least on the occasions of Noah’s treatments) and reflecting on what it means to be God’s people who are called to embody wholeness in the midst of a cancerous world that is rooted in rebellion and division. I invite you to join me on this journey.

Chris Smith

Ash Wednesday

25 February 2009

Here are some pictures from the evening…

All of the shaved heads:

Noah Before:

Noah After:

Mike Bowling, after:

What part does spirituality play in the green movement?

In his Ethical Living blog, Giulio Sica wonders whether the environmental debate is to be centered around emissions targets and fear, or whether concepts such as love and reverence for nature can give us a positive attitude and inspire us to live in harmony with the planet.

What do you think? Do YOU have a moral obligation to care for the environment?

Here is the first blog that I’ve written for this event:

To launch us in the direction of the questions that frame the “Imagining Creation” conversation, allow me to state that I believe that some sort of spirituality is essential to environmental concern.   Regardless of our ideological starting point, our desire to live more peaceably with our environment pre-supposes some level of connection with – and thus respect for – our larger environment.  This connection is typically rooted in our spirituality.  Even atheistic naturalism, maintains a universal connectedness via a common evolutionary origin.

The renowned twentieth century botanist, Liberty Hyde Bailey, puts it well as he begins his book The Holy Earth:

So bountiful hath been the earth and so securely have we drawn from it our substance, that we have taken it all for granted as if it were only a gift, and with little care or conscious thought of the consequences of our use of it; nor have we very much considered the essential relation that we bear to it as living parts in the vast creation.

It is good to think of ourselves – of this teeming, tense, and aspiring human race – as a helpful and contributing part in the plan of a cosmos, and as participators in some far-reaching destiny. The idea of responsibility is much asserted of late, but we relate it mostly to the attitude of persons in the realm of conventional conduct, which we have come to regard as very exclusively the realm of morals; and we have established certain formalities that satisfy the conscience. But there is some deeper relation than all this, which we must recognize and the consequences of which we must practice. There is a directer and more personal obligation than that which expends itself in loyalty to the manifold organizations and social requirements of the present day. There is a more fundamental co-operation in the scheme of things than that which deals with the proprieties or which centers about the selfishness too often expressed in the salvation of one’s soul.

We can be only onlookers on that part of the cosmos that we call the far heavens, but it is possible to co-operate in the processes on the surface of the sphere. This co-operation may be conscious and definite, and also useful to the earth; that is, it may be real. What means this contact with our natural situation, this relationship to the earth to which we are born, and what signify this new exploration and conquest of the planet and these accumulating prophecies of science? Does the mothership of the earth have any real meaning to us?

All this does not imply a relation only with material and physical things, nor any effort to substitute a nature religion. Our relation with the planet must be raised into the realm of spirit; we cannot be fully useful otherwise. We must find a way to maintain the emotions in the abounding commercial civilization. There are two kinds of materials – those of the native earth and the idols of one’s hands. The latter are much in evidence in modern life, with the conquests of engineering, mechanics, architecture, and all the rest. We visualize them everywhere, and particularly in the great centers of population. The tendency is to be removed farther and farther from the everlasting backgrounds. Our religion is detached.

We come out of the earth and we have a right to the use of the materials; and there is no danger of crass materialism if we recognize the original materials as divine and if we understand our proper relation to the creation, for then will gross selfishness in the use of them be removed. This will necessarily mean a better conception of property and of one’s obligation in the use of it. We shall conceive of the earth, which is the common habitation, as inviolable. One does not act rightly toward one’s fellows if one does not know how to act rightly toward the earth. (p. 1-2)

Yesterday, we enjoyed a marvelous day highlighted by an assembly of worship with the church in Kenmare. They were gracious enough to ask me to speak about Englewood. Although they kept thanking me for the words of encouragement to them, we were the ones most encouraged. We take for granted the opportunity for real conversation; we operate on the edge of fear something will be said which is controversial, or someone will get angry, but some of these folks would give anything to be in such a “risky” position. They are only now approaching the wall which separates polite and comfortable worship with a tepid commitment to mission from the radical white-hot faith which calls for unswerving trust in God through a willingness to be bound to one another. I think of the times at Englewood when we have made exploratory excursions into the land of the latter only to retreat back into the security of the former. I have had three weeks now to think about, read about and pray about the reasons why a land filled with monastic communities once upon a time, now suffers through a culture seemingly void of life in the Spirit. All that remains are the literal ruins of these communities and a nostalgic remembrance of nominal faith. I have not figured out all that went wrong, but I have list started. I am convinced that the real issue is how a community sees itself and how folks will be bound together by God’s Spirit as each member lives out love for the other and keeps faith with this identity. Rules and the exercise of authority while appearing neccesary must always be seen as a poor substitute for love and mutual submission. Also, it seems a community either gets off the track or bogs down when it begins to bear the burden of those who want only the benefits of community without the responsibility of sacrificial love. Ancient monastic communities suffered the weight of those who had romanticised dreams of a “special vocation”. I think it is time we make clear that intentional and integrated expressions of community is what God desires for all peoples not just for a band of religious heroes. The trick seems to be how we establish neccesary temporary borders (be a holy people) that are permeable (invites others in). Although I am grateful for and have tremendous respect for our many friends in intentional Christian communities, it is important we take seriously their sincere words of humility concerning their pursuit of God’s kingdom in Christ. When they say they haven’t “arrived”, we ought to believe them, even if they are far ahead of us (or at least in a differant place than us).

Our guest speaker will be Dr. James Lewis.  James is Professor of Theology and Ethics at Anderson University School of Theology.  In 1994, he received his PhD in theology and ethics from Duke University, where he studied under Stanley Hauerwas.

When: Saturday October 25 - 9AM-Noon
Where: Englewood Christian Church, Indianapolis
57. N. Rural St
Cost:  Free!

We hope that you can join us for this important conversation!

 Questions?  Contact the church office:  317.639.1541
or englewoodcc [ at ] indy [dot] rr [dot] com

With the prompting of a collaborative artist website - LearningToLoveYouMore.com - our Summer Art & Agriculture class set out in our neighborhood with a similar aim; to ask our neighbors to sing us a song, play us an instrument, and let us record it for a sampling of the music that we hold in common, that may be part of our local culture.

Many participants were friends already, others were strangers to us. And although many were willing to participate without question, some rejected on various terms: “I can’t play any instruments any more”; “he’s eating right now”; “my only talent is work.” Those included (and just asked to participate) span ages and races for a democratic sampling.  Some recurring melodies emerge throughout: five people sing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ (the mailman, a woman on her porch, a kid on the sidewalk, a woman in the laundromat, the three-year-old daycare class); often all of the lyrics remain elusive without accompaniment: Jesus Loves Me (sung in a garage under demolition) and Jingle Bell Rock (sung at White Castle).

Five recordings are posted here:
1. William Dyke: Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

2. Denise Ford: Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

3. Emily:  Piano

4. Patrick Bowers; Saxophone Improv

5. Miriam, Alex, Noah, Jeni; Amazing Grace

For me, the striking thing about Isaiah 58 (and a similar passage, Micah 6) is that they are written to a specific people in a specific time and place.  I point out the specificity of these passages not to dismiss their message as irrelevant to the Church today, but rather as a key to understanding how they apply to us.  My tendency in reading these passages (and I know this applies to others as well) is to read the call to action (Is. 58:6-7) as an inspiration for getting engaged in the struggle against the largest global injustices of our age (hunger, poverty, AIDS, slavery, etc.).  While I do believe that such struggles are important, I don’t believe that they are primarily what the prophets are addressing in these passages.  I am particularly wary of this sort of large-scale interpretation of these passages in an election year, when the political parties co-opt the Church into believing that a vote for their candidate is a valuable expression of one’s desire for justice.

            In contrast, the message of these passages seems to be a call for a just people, a community that embodies justice in its daily life in the place and time that it finds itself.  It is important to note that the audience is a community, not an individual.  It is, I believe, our good-ol’-American individualism that leads us to jump to interpretations like the one I have described above.  Given the assumption that I am an isolated individual, what can I do to stand for justice? Well, I could vote for this candidate or that one, or give money (or even time) to this service group or that one.  This tendency to interpret these passages individually stands in contrast to the warning in the text itself to “[desist] from your own ways, from seeking your own pleasure and speaking your own word” (Is. 58:13).  Perhaps we jump too quickly into the “doing justice” parts of these passages and miss the prophet’s point that the sabbath fast to which we are called begins with self-denial, a setting aside of our own agendas, desires and even our own convenience.  We cannot ultimately live justly with our brothers and sisters if we cannot prefer them and their needs over ourselves. And, of course, the words of Isaiah serve as preparation for the way of Jesus, which also began in self-denial.  If, however, the primary audience of these passages is a specific community and not individuals, what is the meaning of the prophets’ message for that community.  First and foremost, I believe that the call is to be a community shaped and characterized by just living.  Are there hungry people in our church communities? Are there homeless ones? Are there people enslaved by drugs or debt or workaholism, etc.?  As we struggle to be a people marked by justice, we inevitably will come into conflict with the injustices of our local environment.  Although it is perhaps easiest to see the injustices of an urban neighborhood, injustices abound in any locale.  The planned environment of suburbia that inhibits community, isolates people and requires frequent gasoline consumption is the origin of a host of injustices.  In rural places, the rape of the land by big businesses (coal mining in

            The German theologian Gerhard Lohfink often refers to the Church as a “contrast society,” and I think this language is useful for understanding the prophets’ call to justice in these passages.  As we strive to live justly together, we demonstrate that another way is possible, a way that stands in stark contrast to the pattern of the world (Rom. 12:2).  The tendency of individualistic interpretations of these calls to justice is that we often are trapped into pursuing good and just ends through the world’s channels.  What then typically happens if we are persistent enough to follow these paths for some significant amount of time, is that we begin to make compromises and our ends get more and more watered down until they are swallowed up by our pursuit of the means.  Let me be clear, I am not advocating isolation for the church, but rather that church communities engage the powers of the world as communities and not individuals.  Furthermore, our engagement can and should be formed by the shared life of the community in which we are seeking to live justly together.  I see more hope of discernment and resistance in this way than in that of individualism.  It is interesting that the language of bearing witness that Paul uses throughout Ephesians 3-4 is that of the church bearing witness to the powers, not individuals.

            Frankly, being a community of justice is hard; it demands that we know our brothers and sisters and daily give of ourselves to make sure that they are taken care of; the closeness of life together brings out the worst of our brokenness, which we would much rather keep hidden away (Thanks be to God that “where sin abounds, grace abounds even more”!).  But despite the difficulties, this is the way in which we have been called to follow: to live justly with each other, with our neighbors and to watch the justice of Christ flow outward from our communities into our states, our nations and the uttermost parts of the earth.

            Lord, have mercy upon us, may we heed your call to live justly together and may your justice flow through us and heal our fallen and rebellious world!

Creative Cures for the Common Christmas (by Shane Claiborne)

A few years ago I remember a pastor friend telling me they tried something a little different for their Christmas services. Instead of the usual holiday décor and clutter of the sanctuary, they brought in a bunch of manure and hay and scattered it under the pews so the place would really smell like the stank manger where it all began. I remember laughing hysterically as he described everyone coming in, in all their best Christmas attire, only to sit in the rank smell of a barn. They even brought a donkey in during the opening of the service that dropped a special gift as it mosied down the aisle. Folks looked awkwardly at each other, and then busted out laughing. It was one of the most memorable services they’ve ever had. Certainly folks came face to face with the “reason for the season” and the reality of what it must have been like for the Savior of the universe to enter the world, far from the shopping malls, as a refugee who found no room in the inn.

Imagination.

That’s what our Church and our world seem to be so hungry for–that “renewing of the mind” that will allow us not to “conform to the patterns of the world” as Romans says. I am incredibly hopeful this Advent, because there are so many signs of Christians who are longing for new ways to celebrate our Savior that are not cluttered with the noise of shopping and infected with the myth that happiness must be purchased.

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