Not "apology," apologetics!

In every age, Christians have to figure out once again how to bring people to an understanding of the faith. New believers, skeptics, agnostics, atheists and curious folks of all stripes require some introduction to these odd things we do (worship? prayer? theology? morality? virtue?).

Don Miller has had some commercial success with his blog-esque approach: simple language describing interaction with non-believers and telling the story of his own journey.

But the strongest most-recently-published book in this genre is Deb Rienstra's So Much More: An Invitation To Christian Spirituality. Here's why: it's thoughtful, well-researched, incredibly well-written, funny, warm, and manages to serve folks who know little about Christianity while at the same time helping those of us who've been in the faith for a while to remember why this faith has captivated us as long as it has.

Need a book for your discipleship group? Need a summer read for your pastors' group? Need a gift for a confirmation or profession of faith? This is the book for you.

And if you're heading off to a summer mission trip/ camp counseling/ Chr Min in the Nat'l Parks/ vacation with fundamentalist relatives, bring a few copies and hand 'em out. Believe me, much good will follow.

So Ya Wanna Write a Memoir...

Many of the sessions I attended at the FFW this year addressed the topic of memoir--even when they weren't billed as such. Some of this was fallout from the Jim Frey scandal of earlier this year ("Lying bag of horse doo...", "skunk!"--Mary Karr on James Frey). Even sessions not specifically on memoir talked here and there about how to write truthfully and Gary Schmidt's talk even gave me some fodder for my dissertation (which is on preaching and virtue, for those of you who've forgotten).

But it was Richard Lischer's session on memoir that really placed the genre squarely within this particular writing conference: "There is something about the Judeo-Christian tradition that necessitates the telling of lives." Augustine, Lischer said, deconstructed the traditional life. His was the first biography addressed to God and he viewed all of life as liturgical action; as an act of worship to God.

Why do Christians tell our lives? Lischer had seven thoughts on this.

1. Salvation came through a life and is lived out in life. Col.3:3--"You died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God." Because of this, ordinary lives have the capacity for mystery.

2. Patterning. We can all read the scriptures as if they are addressed directly to us. There are no new plots. But the characters and their stories vary widely--the journey of Abraham, the tempation of Jesus, the call of Matthew, the conversion of Saul/Paul, Augustine's confession, etc.

3. Sacramental dying/rebirth. Part of every Christian's story.

4. Confession. "I tore our all these sins by their roots, like teeth."--Thomas Merton. Sins seem to be easier to tell and easier to remember. (And the preacher says, "Hmmm...")

5. Witness. There is a temptation to tidy up our stories a bit. Restitution narrative v. The Real Story.

6. Assurance. Yes, this is really Who God Is.

7. To encourage others. "Any sorrow can be born if a story can be told about it." --Isaac Dennison (Is this why we blog?)

The plot patterns that emerge in these stories generally fall into types: Lost and Found, Journey, Conflict/Purification, Entering into a Larger Reality, Irony of Providence (Amen!), and Hanging by a Thread (Yep, been there, too.) All of these themes are found in A's Confessions, by the way, so they are not mutually exclusive.

The tension in a Christian memoir is that the self becomes more important than God. Also: don't whine. "Whining is not good for the state of the soul."--Lischer.

I really liked Lischer's insight into the uniqueness of Christian memoir (he cited Merton, Dorothy Day, Anne LaMott). This resonates so strongly with something I have preached on: our stories fit into the larger Story. Our lives are not inconsequential. They fit into the big story of redemption and this is why we never tire of hearing about others' stories. Every other person's story helps me find the themes in my own, and if the story-teller is a believer, then her themes are my themes and we are drawn together into the larger narrative.

Will I write a memoir someday? Maybe. There's a chapter or two in my life that could be helpful to the larger community if I wrote about them. That's why I would publish them, by the way. I've gone through a few seasons where it would have been really helpful to have someone else's account of a similar experience. Maybe I'll publish anonymously though, so I won't have to go on The Today Show and pour out my heart.... ;-)

Quote for the Day

So I'm reading my latest issue of O magazine (yes, I read O magazine! Gotta problem with that?!) and they have this witty new columnist Lisa Kogan who in her inaugural column has this great line:

"I think every human being deserves a great mattress, a comfortable pair of shoes, and a very smart shrink--the rest is gravy." (p. 204)

Sitting out on my deck on a sunny afternoon watching a kingfisher dive for minnows, I set down my glass of iced tea and laughed aloud at this line.

Can you tell it's Reading Recess at the seminary?

Faith and Writing Recap

Here's what I said to introduce Don Miller:

"Donald Miller has written both Blue Like Jazz and Searching for God Knows What, books that could be classified as apologetics for the Starbucks generation. In his first book, Through Painted Deserts he tells the story of a road trip which as one reviewer warned “could cause unquenchable wanderlust and a sudden urge to search eBay for a used VW van.” Most recently he has released the book To Own a Dragon, which chronicles his account of growing up without a father. Because of his passion for this particular cause, Don Miller has started The Belmont Foundation, which seeks to aid single mothers in the rearing of their children. So while over these days here we may praise him for his words, in truth his actions speak much louder. Ladies and Gentlemen, Don Miller."

Other random thoughts from the festival:

Debbie Blue likes the word "fecund."

Mary Karr has a wicked sense of humor.

I hate wearing nametages at conferences.

Don Miller clarified the difference between fiction and non-fiction for us; a discovery he made when he learned JRR Tolkein was not, in actuality, a hobbit. "Hobbit, my ass!" Miller said, speaking aloud a word which does not normally bounce off the walls of the college chapel.

Richard Lischer goes by Rick.

Deb Rienstra looked great in her black suit and scarf. (Hi Deb!)

I bought pounds of books. Kept walking out to deposit them in my car rather than schlepping them around campus.

Met a great new friend Jo Kadlecek via our mutual friend Shirley Hoogstra. Jo just landed a tenure-track gig at Gordon College in their Communications Department, is a writer by trade, and came to Mayfair church yesterday. We had a lot to talk about! Her website is www.lamppostmedia.net.

I'll add links to all of these people later. Now it's time to teach the covenant youth! (And yes, Nathan, I will post about the Rick Lischer session as I promised.)

Faith and Writing

The next few days I'll be indulging in the various workshops, lectures, and lessons provided via the Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing. They come up with amazing guests every time, and this year is no different. Check out the list here.

I'm introducing Don Miller at the 11:15a session on Friday in the College Chapel. Why? Cuz they ran out of people and asked John Witvliet for ideas and he suggested me. That's how these things work, you know. Last minute, plugging in people, who's got this part covered, yada, yada, yada, let's call Mary! A 2 minute introduction I am happy to do, and it's probably better that it's Don Miller whose words I have actually read as opposed to, say, Salman Rushdie (why a book titled The Satanic Verses didn't grab me, I just don't know). Although introducing Tony Hendra would totally rock, dude! I loved his Father Joe, and I'm just so proud that my alma mater is hosting someone from This is Spinal Tap. When can we get Christopher Guest? :-)

In any case, minimal posting the rest of the week, especially since I also have to write a sermon for Sunday. I taught a pre-profession of faith course for 3 weeks at Mayfair church and this Sunday 12 students are professing faith! How cool is that?! My sermon will be a small part in a really fine service. But it still needs to be written...about faith. So maybe I'll pick up some good ideas from the fine writers wandering about campus this week. Or maybe Tony Hendra will ghost-write it. A girl can dream.

Easter Excess

I went to three services yesterday. Yeah, three services in three different churches. I didn't wake up planning to do that, but as the 9:30a service was nearing its close, I realized I could catch an 11a if I left a wee bit early. So I did. Then I went again at 8p.

I'm looking for a church home--or maybe just a good lease--and now that I'm staying in GR for at least another year and most likely in West Michigan for only God knows how long, I thought Easter would be a good day to check out some churches.

And it was. Though I came away with many mixed feelings--about worship, church discerning (let's not call it 'shopping', okay?), my occupation/vocation, and even about being single.

First, there's the Recognition Factor. In Church A, the older couple down the pew from me did the 'glance-and-exchange-whispers-then-glance-again' appraisal of "Hey, isn't that the woman who used to pastor at Eastern?" I've gotten pretty good at picking up on these. There were a couple more before the prelude kicked in. And to my right was a man who greeted me with "Hi Mary," even though I had no idea who he was. Sorry, but that kind of thing unnerves me. Is it just me?

Then I try to see myself worshipping in the place regularly: What would I be eager to get out of bed for? The people? The music? The sermon? All of the above (so rare!)? Could I rear children in this church (not a pressing need at the moment, mind you, but in the mix)? Would I mind not being able to find a parking spot? Would the projection system drive me mad because it's impossible to see if you're 5'3" and behind someone who's 6'5"? Would I miss organ music?

Then there's the sermon. Since January I have listened to over 75 sermons by seminarians. Many have been fine. A few have been great. A few have . . . needed more work. But when preacher A began, I found myself falling into mental note-taking that ran along the lines of: keep your eyes up as you finish a thought rather than looking back at your notes. slow down. what need are you preaching to? why did you wear that shirt? nice job on the exegesis. tighten up the application.... For preacher B it was: calm down. speak clearly. lose the stutter. where are you taking us?....

See? I'm wrecked. Maybe a summer's worth of detox will help (any of you other homiletics teachers want to weigh in on this?), but I fell into this critique mode without even trying. 4 days a week I do this; guess my brain has been formed/deformed.

Mostly, though, being in church just made me want to be somewhere in my robe, sermon in hand, ready to go. It generally feels odd to be a pew-sitter. To be a pew-sitter on Easter felt wrong.

And, yeah, being single. Do people sit closer to each other on holidays? I felt very single in both morning services. Most days I don't mind being single, but jeez-o-pete sometimes the church is the hardest place to be: everyone is paired up or herding children and if they aren't, they at least have a cane or a walker to hold on to. (Okay, wee bit snarky there.)

If you're picking up a note of fatigue in this post, yep, it's there. Church discernment is hard work. Life discernment is even harder. To hit (or be hit by) both in one morning makes one thankful for the restful bliss that is the Sunday afternoon nap.

Good Friday

While on vacation, I began reading The Ragamuffin Gospel, which I am very much enjoying. Here's a quote fitting for this holy day:

"This is the God of the gospel of grace. A God who, out of love for us, sent the only Son He ever had wrapped in our skin. He learned how to walk, stumbled and fell, cried for His milk, sweated blood in the night, was lashed with a whip and showered with spit, was fixed to a cross, and died whispering forgiveness on us all."

In preaching class this week, my colleague John Rottman read one of his sermons for the students. It was a sermon on Romans 10:11, "Those who trust in Christ will never be put to shame." In his sermon and in the discussion afterwards, he reminded students that forgiven people still feel their shame, and that preaching must also include regular reminders that Jesus hung naked on the cross not only to forgive our sins but also to take away our shame.

Shame is not the feeling that we have done wrong (that's guilt), but that we are wrong. That feeling, doled out upon us in ample measure by parents, the culture, and too many finger-wagging sermons--that feeling of shame has been nailed to the cross, too. In John's words, grace is "the answer to our guilt and the medicine for our shame."

In the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God says to us, "You are good enough. You are loved. You are accepted. You are mine."

May the God of grace, who forgives our sins and takes away our shame, whisper love and forgiveness over you today.

When it rains...

I received a letter in the mail today telling me that I have been selected as a DeKruyter Graduate Scholar in Communication. This honor is give to "select graduates of Calvin College pursuing studies in communication-related fields and desiring to pursue the relationship between faith and communication." I get a nice honorarium for this and an invitation to a fancy banquet this summer.

Here's the cool part: I didn't even know this award existed. This was a complete surprise. Like God is saying, "Hey, rent for this summer? Now you have at least one month covered. No worries, my dear." I imagine God telling the angels to hush while I was opening the envelope: "Hey! Watch this! She has no idea what's coming!" And then just giggling when he saw my face as I read the letter. I like to think of God giggling at his provision for me. Heaven knows I do!

I HAVE A JOB!

Yes, faithful readers, it's true! Beginning in August I will be employed full-time as "Assistant Professor of Communication Arts and Sciences" at Calvin College! It's a one-year term appointment and I'll be teaching two sections of intro to public speaking and one section of CAS 140, the gateway course for the department.

I interviewed (for 2 days!) before I left on spring break, and got the call last Wednesday evening from the chair of the department, who told me that their vote was unanimous! How cool is that!

So, thanks to all who were praying about this. As my sister said, "Welcome back to the land of the gainfully employed!" Welcome back, indeed: a great gig in a great department at one of the finest Christian colleges in the land. God is good. All the time!

Spring Break '06

I'm back from a lovely and restful spring break spent at Litchfield Beach, South Carolina. The weather was in the high 70's/low 80's with clear skies every day.

If you are saying to yourself, "Hey, didn't she just take a vacation to England, like, three weeks ago?" Well, yes, I did. And I took another one BECAUSE I CAN. This is the virtue of being under-employed. Plus, when you have friends who say to you "come apart and rest awhile," their words echo holy writ and you obey.

I was with 10 other people in this amazing house (click the link on the map for "Beachy Keen") just a 2:30 minute walk from the beach. I spent most of the week on the uppermost porch of the house, sitting in adirondack chairs and reading/sleeping/listening to music/staring at the ocean/reading some more. I also went hiking at Huntington Beach State Park and saw 7 alligators (!), rode a big ol' beach cruiser bike down lovely bike paths, walked the beach as the sun came up, and toured Brookgreen Gardens with my dear friend Shirley, who was my link to this whole incredible week.

It was Shirley's family, another family, plus a few extra teenage boys that made up our contingent. Three adults+7 teens for most of the week, as Shirley's husband had to fly back to work early in the week. (Bummer for him!)

Living with teenagers is like having two time zones in the same house. We were functioning on EST, up around 8a or so, in bed around 11p or 12a. They were on Hawaii time: up around Noon, in bed by, well, I'm not sure. It was also like living with The Eating Elves. We'd go to bed with a clean kitchen and a pretty good idea of how much food was left and arise to a kitchen stacked with plates, pans, cups and half-consumed cans of pop and several food items missing. Not a problem most days since I can't say I'm a connoisseur of Pizza Rolls or Sierra Mist. BUT, drink two containers of OJ in the process of making smoothies at 2 am, and leave none for me to sip while I sit on the porch a few hours later to welcome the day and you're gonna hear from me!

On the whole, though, these were fine kids; polite, thoughtful, and tall. Four of the boys will be starters on their high school basketball team next year. It was like living in the land of giants.

The whole week was really lovely. Ever have a moment when you feel truly blessed? Sitting out on the porch and watching the sun come up over the ocean while listening to the birds and feeling the breeze: oh, yes, indeed. Every morning. Great is God's faithfulness.