A forgetful God!

The God Who Forgets

 Matthew 28:1-10

At Providence House Sister Elaine liked to tell
a story about a bishop
who made fun of an old woman
because she claimed that when she prayed to God,
God spoke back.

Now the bishop had devoted his whole life
to the study of God,
and he was sure that if God spoke to anyone,
it would not be to such as she.
But she insisted.
“It’s true. God speaks to me.”

“Prove it!” said the bishop.
Arrogant. Almost angry.
“Ask God what are my greatest private sins.
If you return knowing these then I will believe
that God speaks to you.”

The woman agreed to do so and they parted.
The following day she returned
and the bishop greeted her with a smirk.
“Well, did you ask God what are my most secret sins?”
“Yes,” she replied. And the look on her face
was so intense,
so knowing
that the bishop hesitated but asked it anyway
“And what did God say?”

“God said….”
The old woman spoke softly but with assurance.
“God said . . . he couldn’t remember them.”

The Easter message:
God forgets!

Every time a woman arrived at Providence House—
in her prison-issued trench coat
$20 in her pocket
a curious blend of exhaustion and bewilderment
and hope on her face—
she was almost at a point of Easter.
She had passed her Maundy Thursday with its dark betrayal
passed the judgment and even the crucifixion
and now she waited . . . waited . . . waited
for the stone to roll away
for freedom from the tomb
for resurrection.

Such a stone is heavy and not easily removed.
Easter is sometimes much more than three days coming.
But every time a woman arrived,
prison lingering in her eyes,
she mysteriously brought us a whiff of Easter.

She carried good news
of the God of forgiveness
and new beginnings
and hundredth chances.
The God of resurrections.
The God who forgets.

Kayla McClurg lived in the community of Providence House in New York for five years. Their work has inspired resurrection for thousands of women.

By: Kayla McClurg
Season and Scripture: Easter A, Matthew

Add your thoughts at inward/outward

Good Friday: Faith costs. . .

What people don’t realize is how much religion costs. They think faith is a big electric blanket when, of course, it is the cross.

Flannery O'Connor

Source: Flannery O'Connor's Library: Resources of Being by Arthur Kinney

Add your thoughts at inward/outward

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Fear Not!!!!

Watch beyond the divisive details to capture the spirit of this very important message.

Fear kills community.

To obey the command, "Fear Not!" is to begin a journey toward wholeness, healing and hope in community.

Reactions?

Hiding behind religion?

The thought has occurred to me often and increasingly that much of contemporary Christianity has become an elaborate system of ideas, experiences, traditions and ceremonies functioning as justification for American lifestyles and culture.  In a real sense, organized religion works to shield adherents from the radical values and expressed directives of Jesus.  Our lives have gone so far afield from what the founder championed and from the difficulty of real, devoted adherence to his seemingly near impossible demands. 

Our response?   We've fashioned a substitute or replacement religion that allows us to go on with our lives as they have been formed by our culture, while also inviting us to waiting for the next life to arrive. 

An irony is that embracing the protective substitute version of the faith is not limited to the well-to-do or even the middle class, but affects the underclass as well.  Media and marketing allow us all to believe that the rewards and certain outcomes of the American Dream will someday and soon be ours as well.  Embracing the gospel of the status quo sets us free to compartmentalize life into manageable sectors that may or may relate to one another at all. 

Countervailing voices to this mainstream, accepted accommodation get shouted down as "liberationists," "heretics," or worse.  Clearly, Jesus would not be accepted by much of the contemporary Christian community, just as he was rejected by the religious of his own day. 

Now comes conservative columnist, David Brooks whose words in an Op-Ed essay published on September 6, 2010 in The New York Times follow much the same train of thought. 

Tell me what  you think.

The Gospel of Wealth

By DAVID BROOKS

Maybe the first decade of the 21st century will come to be known as the great age of headroom. During those years, new houses had great rooms with 20-foot ceilings and entire new art forms had to be invented to fill the acres of empty overhead wall space.

People bought bulbous vehicles like Hummers and Suburbans. The rule was, The Smaller the Woman, the Bigger the Car — so you would see a 90-pound lady in tennis whites driving a 4-ton truck with enough headroom to allow her to drive with her doubles partner perched atop her shoulders.

When future archeologists dig up the remains of that epoch, they will likely conclude that sometime around 1996, the U.S. was afflicted by a plague of claustrophobia and drove itself bankrupt in search of relief.

But that economy went poof, and social norms have since changed. The oversized now looks slightly ridiculous. Values have changed as well.

Today, savings rates are climbing and smart advertisers emphasize small-town restraint and respectability. The Tea Party movement is militantly bourgeois. It uses Abbie Hoffman means to get back to Norman Rockwell ends.

In the coming years of slow growth, people are bound to establish new norms and seek noneconomic ways to find meaning. One of the interesting figures in this recalibration effort is David Platt.

Platt earned two master’s degrees and a doctorate from the New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary. At age 26, he was hired to lead a 4,300-person suburban church in Birmingham, Ala., and became known as the youngest megachurch leader in America.

Platt grew uneasy with the role he had fallen into and wrote about it in a recent book called “Radical: Taking Back Your Faith From the American Dream.” It encapsulates many of the themes that have been floating around 20-something evangelical circles the past several years.

To read on click here.

Nick Vujicic

Nick Vujicic.

Not sure I've ever seen or heard anything quite like his story or his attitude.  Life through a million tears, tears that can inspire a transformation; better, a revolution of living!



Learn more at Nick's website here.

Our Core Values

Central Dallas Ministries operates from a very strong "value platform."

Our approach to defining our core operational values has been evolutionary since the beginning in 1988.

Check out where we are today!



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Teresa's tormenting darkness and the poor

Disconnected diary ramblings at the end of a difficult week with a view to recent revelations of the "darkness" surrounding the inner life of Mother Teresa, evidently for decades:

--Her call to serve the very poorest of the poor evidently came 61 years ago this month. Her mystical experience held out the most important question of her life: "Wilt thou refuse?" She did not refuse.

--By the 1950s, she was walking into a deep darkness that would remain with her for over 50 years. I found these words from the nun's journal quoted in an insightful essay that was posted on washingtonpost.com and appeared in The Washington Post by Michael Gerson ("The Torment of Teresa," September 5, 2007, A-21):

"Lord, my God, who am I that You should forsake me? The child of your love--and now become as the most hated one--the one You have thrown away as unwanted--unloved. I call, I cling, I want--and there is no One to answer--no One on Whom I can cling--no, No One. Alone. . .I am told God loves me--and yet the reality of darkness & coldness & emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul."

--I find it unsurprising that, called to be among the world's poorest people, the little nun falls into darkness--the suffering of the poor, the unfairness, the lack of hope, the continual and unrelenting road blocks to progress, to improvement, to life--no surprise that darkness is the result.

--The life of the poor in this world is beyond tough. Those who go there--invited or uninvited--will encounter darkness--darkness in their own lives. I have come face-to-face with this darkness, often. It has no explanation. There are no clear ways to the other side. The darkness must be set aside to allow for the work of justice and compassion with those who suffer needlessly.

--The little nun decided to believe, at times against all rational evidence. She decided to love her God, as her lover, in spite of the coldness, the fear, the abandonment that she felt and knew at that deepest place in her life. Only believers can know this sort of "doubt."

--Those who decide not to believe do not face this burden of hers. To say "no" to the idea of God is to simplify the struggle. God complicates everything about poverty and injustice. This nun's ever present smile, her joyful encouragement says to me, "I believe in the face of a darkness you will never be courageous enough to face."

--Her path in life was hard. It begs questions of God, whatever one's view of God.

--I like Gerson's essay. I like his point of view and his questions. Especially these words: "Assuming. . .that she was not self-deluded in her calling, what kind of God would set such a difficult path--ministering to lepers and outcasts for a lifetime--and then withdraw his presence? Mother Teresa herself seemed to struggle with the unfairness: 'What are you doing My God to one so small?'"

--Is it possible that God revealed to one of his most trusted friends the very darkness he faces while watching the madness of our world. Did this one, very simple but incredibly strong and lonely nun come to terms with the truth that hers was a God of the darkness? In the agony of her honest, unrelenting doubt, do I discover the ultimate expression of faith's deep places, its immovable center?

Rosalind

The tears flowed freely here last week.

On Tuesday morning, we learned that our dear friend, Rosalind Sanders had died at home following a massive stroke.

I was in a meeting talking about housing development for the homeless when the news interrupted the conversation and brought everything to a complete halt.

Memories of this woman washed over all who had known her.

Rosalind volunteered at CDM for almost 13 years. She was one of the first of our low-income neighbors (others might think of her as a "client"--for us she was always "Rosalind, our friend and ally") who joined us to build up the community by serving it, listening to it and responding to it with dignity, love and great respect.

She first came to CDM looking for all of that. Rosalind discovered what she was looking for in the community she loved and worked hard to improve. Unlike the rest of her world, the life she found among her friends here was exceptional, supportive, welcoming and authentically affirming.

As a single mother, she faced her challenges.

In addition, she endured a number of chronic health maladies. She worked hard to improve, with little success.

The people in her world whom she should have been able to count on often let her down terribly. Again, I believe this is why she spent so much quality time with CDM and with the Central Dallas Church. In our extended family she found the love that goes along with knowing and being known.

One of our long term team members put it best when she said, "You know, Larry, I just wasn't finished with Rosalind. . .I just wasn't finished."

Throughout the day, those of us who knew her, offered up prayers for her family and shed tears over her passing. We wondered what her children and grandchildren would do next. We shared memories and began to think about a funeral.

You can imagine my surprise when toward the end of the day I got the news that the earlier report was wrong.


Rosalind was not gone, she wasn't even ill!

There has been no stroke. That misfortune had befallen another person, the mother of one of the teens with whom we work.

Rosalind was alive!

We all were concerned for the children of the woman who had passed and the part of our organization closest to that very hard and troubling reality went to work on responding with love and nurture. . .

. . .but Rosalind was alive!

There was rejoicing all around, as relief set in throughout our organization.

After settling down with our good news, and still worrying about the loss in the other family not so closely related to us, we all began to give thanks for Rosalind, for the community of which she is such an important part, and for the fact that we would have more time together.

Strange. The report of her death validated the truth of our relationship.

We are friends and partners in community development.

We have more time, thankfully.

What gladness! I haven't seen her since the terrifying rumor ran through our lives, but when I do, I promise we will rejoice!

Darkness

David Van Biema published a story this week in Time magazine describing the doubts of Mother Teresa and her long struggle with "spiritual darkness"--her personal experience of a "dark night of the soul."

The story points to a collection of her letters published in the new book, Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light (Doubleday 2007), edited and compiled by Brian Kolodiejchuk.

The letters draw readers into the long (66 years) and terrible struggle the founder of the Daughters of Charity experienced in her personal faith and spirituality.

As she performed her amazing and often heroic work that gained her international acclaim, she struggled with deep and profound loneliness, doubt, darkness and silence. She confesses that her trademark smile was simply her "mask" or "a cloak that covers everything."

Not surprisingly, at least to me, the darkness settled into her life shortly after she began her life's mission among the poorest of the poor. Her story will be surprising to many and a relief to many others. Sadly, in my view, far too many will have no clue what she is describing in her letters and journals.

In the end, with the help of one of her confessors, she was able to reframe the silence of God and of her beloved Jesus as a participation in the darkness Jesus experienced in his own death and suffering--the dark silence of the Passion.

I am eager to read the book.

Barbara Brown Taylor

My good buddy, Mike Cope, posted this quote from Barbara Brown Taylor’s Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith on his blog not long ago. A fitting entry for a Sunday morning.

If you are a church person, it's more than worth pondering.

“I know that the Bible is a special kind of book, but I find it as seductive as any other. If I am not careful, I can begin to mistake the words on the page for the realities they describe. I can begin to love the dried ink marks on the page more than I love the encounters that gave rise to them. If I am not careful, I can decide that I am really much happier reading my Bible than I am entering into what God is doing in my own time and place, since shutting the book to go outside will involve the very great risk of taking part in stories that are still taking shape.”

Check out Mike's site at: http://www.preachermike.com/.

More from Gustavo Gutierrez on "action"

". . .the rediscovery of the eschatological dimension in theology has also led us to consider the central role of historical praxis. Indeed, if human history is above all else and opening to the future, then it is a task, a political occupation, through which we orient and open ourselves to the gift which gives history its transcendent meaning: the full and definitive encounter with the Lord and with other humans.

"To do the truth," as the Gospel says, thus acquires a precise and concrete meaning in terms of the importance of action in Christian life.

Faith in a God who loves us and calls us to the gift of full communion with God and fellowship with others not only is not foreign to the transformation of the world; it leads necessarily to the building up of that fellowship and communion in history.

Moreover, only by doing this truth will our faith be "verified," in the etymological sense of the word.

From this notion has recently been derived the term orthopraxis, which still disturbs the sensitivities of some. The intention, however, is not to deny the meaning of orthodoxy, understood as a proclamation of and reflection on statements considered to be true.

Rather, the goal is to balance and even to reject the primacy and almost exclusiveness which doctrine has enjoyed in Christian life and above all to modify the emphasis, often obsessive, upon the attainment of an orthodoxy which is often nothing more than fidelity to an obsolete tradition or a debatable interpretation.

In a more positive vein, the intention is to recognize the work and importance of concrete behavior, of deeds, of action, of praxis in the Christan life. 'And this, it seems to me, has been the greatest transformation which has taken lace in Christian conception of existence,' said Edward Schillebeeckx in an interview. 'It is evident that thought is also necessary for action. But the Church for centuries devoted its attention to formulating truths and meanwhile did almost nothing to better the world. in other words, the Church focused on orthodoxy and left orthopraxis in the hands of nonmembers and nonbelievers'"

(A Theology of Liberation, page 8)



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"Putting legs on prayer"

Several years ago I attended a "National Day of Prayer" breakfast event here in Dallas. The keynote speaker for the morning was, then mayor, Ron Kirk.

I remember noticing the mayor as he entered the hall. He wore his familiar bright smile and he greeted people already seated at tables, as well as those standing visiting with one another. He carried a black Bible in his hand.

When it came time for Mayor Kirk to speak, he stood before the crowd and looked us all over. His opening line was unforgettable.

"I realize this is a prayer breakfast and I didn't come here to cause a problem," he began. "But, you know what I think?"

He paused to let us think for a moment.

"I think we've prayed long enough in this city! It is past time for us to go to work changing things for the better!"

Kirk went on to challenge us about the pressing issues facing Dallas, including a number of concerns he shared about the poor and the weak among us.

I don't remember the details, but I'll likely always remember his opening challenge to us--we who were, and remain, so religious, so full of faith and so ineffective in really bringing about community transformation.

The Mayor's words remind me of Gustavo Gutierrez, the father of Liberation Theology in Latin America. For Gutierrez, as for Kirk, faith doesn't matter if it is not connected to the streets of a community. Faith is about how we relate to and engage other human beings, how we work together to make things better, more just and more open to the possibilities of peace and community.

Faith that does not embrace the pain of world is really no faith at all.

I appreciate the way Gutierrez puts it,

". . .charity has been fruitfully rediscovered as the center of the Christian life. This has led to a more Biblical view of the faith as an act of trust, a going out of one's self, a commitment to God and neighbor, a relationship with others. It is in this sense that St. Paul tells us that faith works through charity: love is the nourishment and the fullness of faith, the gift of one's self to the Other, and invariably to others. This is the foundation of the praxis of Christians, of their active presence in history. According to the Bible, faith is the total human response to God, who saves through love. In this light, the understanding of faith appears as the understanding not of the simple affirmation--almost memorization--of truths, but of a commitment, an overall attitude, a particular posture toward life" (A Theology of Liberation, page 6).

I think this was the mayor's point. We've had enough prayer in this town--we're way "long" on prayer. We've got churches on every corner!

What we need is some action motivated by faith and love. You know, the kind that doesn't mind getting the dirt of the street under its fingernails.


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A theology for the street

Across the years, people have given me strange looks when I confess that my faith has been shaped significantly by reading liberation theology. I do what I do in large part because of what I have discovered while exploring this very rich school of thought.

Years ago, while in seminary, I enjoyed the good fortune of sitting in a summer school class with Dr. James Cone from Union Theological Seminary in New York City. Cone's course, Black Liberation Theology, provided me with hope, courage and even healing. I found him even more amazing in person than in print, which is saying a lot!

I suppose what I find most attractive about the thought of writers like Cone and Gustavo Gutierrez is the fact that everything is rooted deeply in the here-and-now.

Everything is practical.

Action in the real world is the key to every expression of faith.

Instead of becoming lost in the past or distracted by a future that will be experienced on a completely different plane of existence, thinkers like Gutierrez and Cone keep calling me back to the street and its reality.

In a system of thought like this, it becomes almost impossible for middle class types like me to rationalize my failure to engage the pain, injustice, suffering and oppression of my world.

My responsibility in this day happens to be this world or, better, that part of the world where I will find myself living today.

There is not much time for dwelling on the past, except as precursor for the present that is currently "in my face."

There is little reason to focus much on the future, it will take care of itself.

My call is to live and to act in faith for the transformation of the world as I find it.

Liberation thought demands an entering into the life of the world. To put it theologically, it calls for radical incarnation. I must enter the pain and the struggle of this world for the sake of and alongside the poor, the marginalized and the oppressed.

There is no way to heaven but through the earth.

My responsibility is the life and the world in which I find myself. In community with others, I am called to live out my faith from a street level perspective.

The old hymn, "This World Is Not My Home," might be true; but this world is without a doubt my current assignment, it is where I am rooted by faith, and I dare not "pass through" without thought, sacrifice and focused attention. It is what I have been given and called to engage.

Maintaining this very real, practical and "down-to-earth" focus keeps me on track. And, in this regard, I find reading Cone, Gutierrez and other liberationists to be most helpful.

They bring my faith to life and into my world.

Jane Lowe

I'm thinking of you today, Jane Lowe.
Lots to remember as I stop to think of you;
Your dirt-floored shanty nestled under
That Claiborne Street overpass right downtown
New Orleans--folks driving by, but never seeing your truth.

Been now nearly thirty years since you made your rounds in that
Wild and wonderful city of light and song and fear,
Coming by my place in the mix to read my palm, tell my fortune
And share a story to draw down a tear and a laugh or two--
Always asking about my babies.

I remember your dirty face, your toothless, grinning mouth;
Your black and gray hair pulled back tight in a greasy knot,
All you owned--a treasure trove--piled high on your grocery cart;
And you, the most optimistic person I've ever known,
Who had so much pain and little else to show, or so it seemed at first.

At times you worked me for a buck or two,
A meal, a bit of cash for the bus, or
A bottle that I'm sure consoled you in the
Darkness of your lonely nights and
Very hard days on those stressful, amazing, wonderful streets.

You were my church, truth be known, smelly though it surely was
And full of frustration and gaping need; but I never could relate much to the holy folks come into town from elsewhere
To make their bucks and secure their futures, and pay my salary
But you just coming by to make sure I was okay, and to help yourself.

Cheap assurance you sure provided,
No doubt in my mind your wisdom about life was more than sound;
Your needs so simple, your laughter so real, old, homeless woman, I know you were an angel, sure enough,
Come down to those streets for me.

God stuff in the State Capitol

They're at it again in Austin.

You can read all about it in yesterday's edition of The Dallas Morning News ( "One State Under God," by Karen Brooks, A1, Sunday, April 22, 2007).

Defending God and "His values" can be tough work in such a secular place as Texas and in such a "godless environment" as the halls of our state house, right? Serious business protecting the "In God We Trust" and "under God" heritage of the Lone Star state.

But, never fear, God's cause has lots of help from lots of courageous warriors this session!

Why, this session has produced bills dealing with offering Bible classes and prayer in public schools and declarations of the state's faith in public places. On more than one occasion, members of the legislature have risen to proclaim and affirm Texas' unshakable commitment to Judeo-Christian values, while, on at least one occasion, protesting the involvement of a Muslim cleric who had been invited to offer a prayer in the Senate chamber.

I always find these debates and such efforts curious and a bit amusing.

Curious, because the lawmakers shouting the loudest for keeping God and the values of our Judeo-Christian heritage at the center of the public square are also those most opposed to extending justice, opportunity and assistance to the poor, the weak and the marginalized--actions and policies that are central hallmarks of the faith of both Jews and Christians through the centuries (as in "Judeo-Christian values").

Any careful study of the voting records of many of our legislators comparing their stances on "values issues" with their votes on major, social policy matters, such as the Children's Health Insurance Program (CHIP) or Medicaid or prison reform or any number of Health and Human Services issues, undoubtedly would reveal an inverse correlation.

Amusing, because those making the most noise for God don't seem to know what God cares about most.

Here's one for the books. One bill introduced in this session would ban chemical dependency treatment clinics within 1,000 feet of a church. The same bill bans prostitution within that same distance from a house of worship.

Hmmmm. Maybe I misunderstood the real meaning and purpose of faith, the Torah and the Gospel. Who is protecting who from whom?

Such a bill would make it less convenient for church goers to visit their family members recovering in such facilities!

As for prostitution, I thought that was against the law in Texas already? And, never mind that Jesus would have welcomed such women to his table and inside his band of merry disciples. And by the way, why wouldn't a church consider housing a drug treatment center?

Of course, politicians simply reflect the will and worldview of their constituents. And that is the problem. It's not the legislators that are the main issue--though a bit of independent leadership would be refreshing.

Here's the issue: Somehow lots of church folks have missed the major point of the faith.

Throughout the Bible, it is very clear that caring for the poor, the weak, the alien and the oppressed is much more important to God, and those who speak for God, than are personal expressions of religious devotion. In fact, according the Bible, such expressions of faith are always considered hypocritical and counterproductive in view of how the poor are treated by people who claim to be devoted to God.

In view of the clear ethical and moral priorities of the holy writings of Judaism and Christianity, and considering the nature and opportunities afforded us in our constitutional democracy, every value proposition related to personal piety and religious devotion would be best left to individuals to apply as conscience directs.

At the same time, those values relating to the quality of life we craft together as a state community should be worked out in the public square to the benefit of the weakest and most needy among us. Such would be the response of a faith-filled state.

People of faith are not called to fight the world or withdraw from it or shut it out or despise it. My faith tells me we are called to love it, serve it and welcome it to a God of love, light, hope and joy.

In my view, when people of faith walk in the way of the faith, there will be no need for publicly endorsed prayers, school-sponsored Bible study (unless it is as literature) or religious statements etched in stone or carved in wood.

Our lives will be our sermons and everyone we seek to influence will hear us loud and clear without even a word being uttered.

Mental Health Services in the Lone Star State

More "good news" on the status of public health in Texas:

· Mental illness is a leading cause of disability in the U.S.

· One in five Texans (20%)faces some form of mental illness.

· Texas ranks 49th in per capita spending on treatment of mental illness.

· Inadequate community-based mental health programs increase the likelihood that persons with mental illness will wind up in the criminal justice system.

· Approximately 900,000 adults in Texas met the DSHS mental health priority population definition in 2005, yet less than half in greatest need received mental health services.

· Forty-six percent of ER visits have behavioral health issues as a basic or contributing factor.

· Untreated mental illness results in increasing pressure on state and local resources.

· Community-based services reduce the rate of costly care in emergency rooms, hospitals, jails and prisons, and reduce the need for transportation to state hospitals for stabilization.

· Every $1 spent on mental health services saves $5 in overall health care costs.

· In Fiscal Year 2005, Texas average monthly emergency room costs were 27% lower for Medicaid clients receiving needed community mental health treatment than for those who received no such treatment.

· In Fiscal Year 2005, Texas average monthly emergency room costs were almost 35% lower for Medicaid clients receiving needed substance abuse treatment than for those who did not.

· Untreated mental illness costs Texas $16.6 billion per year.

· Treatment for mental illness is highly successful. (Depression: 80%, Panic Disorder: 75%, Schizophrenia: 60%, Heart Disease: 45-50%).

[Mental Health Association of Greater Dallas]

If you live in Texas, you might want to pass this information along to your State Senator and your House Member.

Journey. . .mission. . .walk

Keep walking, though there's no place to get to.

Don't try to see through the distances. That's not for human beings.

Move within, but don't move the way fear makes you move.

Rumi

[Lifted from SoJo.net, the on-line service of Sojourners magazine and community.]