Preaching Peace

Van Jones

  As we view the latest cultural uproars, Van Jones is one person to watch.  He is an Obama administration official specializing in environmentally friendly jobs.  Nicknamed the "Green Czar," Jones can be viewed on youtube and other media.  Listen to his live speeches for yourself.
  Here is a link to what he says about Columbine and violence in males.  Apparently this clip is one of the reasons some want him to resign.  I hope he keeps his post, for he gets and speaks about violence in a way worthy of a Girardian, and not enough heard in public discourse.  Michael Hardin could have written his speech.  (Did you, Michael?)  Watch this clip for a breath of fresh air.  What you think about what he says?

http://www.breitbart.tv/van-jones-only-suburbal-white-kids-shoot-up-schools/

(suburbal - not my error here - just the avenue)

A voice from your Saturday,

mary mckinney
  dekalb, illinois

Shout It Out

Just a thought here - I've been hearing a lot about people shouting. Folks have been yelling at "town hall" forums and shouting at each other and at politicians. Pundits on television seem to shout a lot. It brings to mind some age old truths that somehow seem to have been misplaced in the popular culture mindset.

One truth is that if one's argument is based on the level of volume with which one espouses it, then it would seem that the level of volume is commensurate with the weakness of the argument. Wisdom cries out in the streets, but at a whisper. Truth does not require volume.

One of my favourite movies is Bad Day at Black Rock. The line I remember from that film, apart from when Ernest Borgnine tells Spencer Tracy, "I'm going to kick your lung out," is when Spencer Tracy tells one of the other characters, "Sir, you are not only mistaken, but you are mistaken at the top of your voice."

It doesn't matter how loud you shout it, you're still wrong.

I sat on a park bench with my brother the other day. We don't always see eye to eye on the issues, but we agree on many things. One of those being that if you are going to stand for something, then don't use cheap rhetoric in doing it. Think about your argument. And the more you think, the less apt you are to shout. And the less likely you are to shout, the more likely people will listen. They may not agree, but by listening, they are less likely to attack.

And that is what it's all about. Fewer people attacking each other. What a world that would be.

Take Care - John Mann

Complaints

  In sermon preparation for 8/2, I'm fascinated with the Israelite's complaining.  Comes up again and again and appears to have been a factor contributing to the elongated journey of forty years.  Yuh think??!
  Just what IS complaining?  Could it be the shadow side of vision?  Where there is no vision, the people complain (to paraphrase)?  Where I've lost my vision and hope for that vision, do I complain?  My vision might be personal, for a family member, or for the church, the nation, or some other person or entity.
  What about those "visions" for others?  I'm thinking of the youth pastor who came to a church where folks complained about the length of his hair.  Their former youth pastor had been a more formal sort, often seen in a grey suit.  He also had a crew cut, hair standing straight up and oh, so neat.  When the elders complained about the new youth pastor's hair and casual attire, and to their credit, to his face, they asked a question.  "When are you going to stop looking like a shaggy mop with a funky handle?"  HIs response was, "So you'd rather me look like a grey toothbrush?"  The elders had a vision for their new youth pastor, predictably the vision embodied by the one they liked.  It is easy to have a vision for others, and when it isn't shared for whatever reason, vision transitions to complaint.
    Complaining, at least mine, becomes an enjoyable exercise, delicious in a way, and then where am I? 
  What say you regarding the complaining you hear, and the complaining you do, or these thoughts I proffer?

Mary on the prairie ~

Narrative, narrative, narrative

  It started in Chicago, on the magnificent mile as they call it, that area of the city with a couple of buildings that survived the Chicago fire.  Lookingglass theatre makes its home in one of the buildings.  The Raven Foundation (do visit this wonderful group @ ravenfoundation.org) invited us to join them for Mary Zimmerman's adaption of the stories in ARABIAN NIGHTS.  At the heart it's funny, scary, foreign, with actors jumping, brandishing knives, carrying baskets, making love and more.  And it is about the power of narrative to heal, to transform, to be a tipping binary for violence.
  Two weeks later the feast was Barbara Brown Taylor.  Hearing her is something like being a lover of cars who gets to drive the Lambhorgini.  She poke of Kathryn Harrison's book, While They Slept, the story of a family's murder at the hands of their eighteen year old son.  He and his sister had been victims of violent abuse throughout their lives.  The sister's escape over the years had been Harlequin novels.  Here she had found a different world.  Here she learned how more normal people lived, what manners entail, what love might look like.  She found solace in the narratives, a small corner where her soul might survive, enough that the trajectory of her own narrative took her other than to prison.  I want to read the book.
  This morning I crawled with our brother Philip into the chariot and heard E2's question (my nickname for the Ethiopian Eunuch).  He had been reading THE narrative.  This refers to whom?  He had managed to find some verses to mirror the narrative of his own journey.  How old was he when he became.   .   .   ?  Was he a willing participant, or unwilling?  What did he gain in this "exchange?"  What did he lose?  Searching he found a narrative in which his life experience is not only mirrored, but honored.
  Ah, our stories, these narratives in our library, our Biblia.  There's one for you, for me, today in that vast library.  Rumi says "Take down a musical instrument."  Do that, and more, take down a book, THE BOOK, OUR LIBRARY.

         Rejoicing w/ E2, and rejoicing in THE narratives,

                  Mary on the Prairie
                        DeKalb, Illinois

And a little MORE humor

  Well, sort of.  Preaching Peace, while a global ministry, does have an address.  It's Lancaster, Pennsylvania, folks.  We love you, Michael and Lorri.  And now, news of the morning tells us that this fair city is becoming the most closely watched small city in the U.S.  Seems the work has been outsourced to the private sector, the company securing private citizens to monitor the good folks of Lancaster.  This front page news from the L.A. Times comes to you courtesy of the Drudge Report.
  This may be amusing, but then, Michael and others have mentioned that such things may become commonplace as we move into the future.  Michael, I imagine, is smiling as he reads this.  What do others of us think?

Mary on the Prairie
DeKalb, Illinois
  not currently under surveillance
      .   .   .   for now  (-:

A Little Humor

This is titled The Worst Sermon Ever.  As readers of this blog know I am tackling the doctrine of the inspiration of Scripture.  Some folks think it is passe to do so, but here is a hilarious reason why I do what I do.  Hard to believe it is real.    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47cHJR_IABw

Michael

Archaic Religion, Archaic Politics

Back in Genesis, after Cain kills Abel God marks him so others will not kill him and escalate the cycle of violence.  If someone kills Cain it will end up with a seven fold vengeance.  A scant few verses later Lamech boasts that his death will bring reprisals seventy fold thus indicating that the cycle of retributive vengeance has really gotten out of hand.

Today North Korea said it will initiate a retaliation that makes Cain and Lamech look like a couple of school yard bulllies; it has promised to "get back" at the US a hundred or a thousand fold.  Seven or Seventy has now become 100 or 1,000 fold retribution.

Lately I am astonished by naive liberalism which postulates that we are evolving as a species, we are getting better and better.  Yet our political responses, our military actions far surpass anything the biblical tradition ever imagined when it came to reciprocal violence.  I am certain that the CIA is working on regime change in North Korea, after all that is their job.  But I am afraid that it will be for naught; what we need as a species is not just a political makeover, but a true, real and lasting change of heart, a change of anthropological vision, a change away from violence toward forgiveness.  Politics is all about just retribution, but that is an oxymoron, all retribution is unjust because my retribution is justice, yours is just plain evil.

No wonder Rene Girard has become so pessimistic about our chances of survival as a species.  His new book on Clausewitz, coming out later this year from Univ. of Michigan Press will be a depressing read for many I am certain.  Yet is it pessimism or realism to say that we have not really evolved and in crucial ways have actually devolved, at least emtionally and spiritually, as a species.  Time will tell...until then maybe we should start practicing getting under our desks again like we did the 1960's...

Michael

Forgetting

My blog writing has been sparse of late. In mulling over why this might be I can’t say that I’ve reached any sure conclusions. Perhaps it has something to do with the volume of words that are inflating the information highway. I hearken back to one of my core philosophies, captured in the words of the Chinese philosopher Lao Tse -

“The purpose of a fish trap is to catch fish and when the fish are caught, the trap is forgotten. The purpose of a rabbit snare is to catch rabbits.  When the rabbits are caught, the snare is forgotten.  The purpose of the word is to convey ideas.  When the ideas are grasped, the words are forgotten.  Where can I find a man who has forgotten words?  He is the one I would like to talk to.”

Of all the words we hear, speak or read, which ones do we remember?

One of the tasks to which I devote myself is conducting funerals. On average I conduct 50 funerals a year. Each one is a remembrance and celebration of a particular life. Each one involves telling a person’s life story, whether that life spanned one breath or a hundred years. Each funeral involves a conversation with someone in order to learn the story.

I record bits and pieces of the conversation, much like a reporter, by writing things down in a notebook while we speak. Sometimes the room where the conversation takes place is full people all speaking over each other. Sometimes there is just one other person there. Sometimes the atmosphere is palpable, as if emotions become physical realities. Sometimes the stories people tell have no basis in rhyme or reason, but a certain truth emerges. I’ve heard stories that have no explanation other than that there is a reality beyond that which we can see and touch and feel for ourselves.

I’ve had a few experiences lately where people have responded to something I’ve written by offering personal attacks. Some weeks ago I wrote about how I challenged what I perceived as racism in the title of a magazine article. The author responded with denial and indignation. Even from people who one would think of as allies in a given cause, I’ve received rather snarky ripostes.

It’s okay to disagree with someone. The challenge of disagreement is to be civilized about it. There may be opinions that I strongly challenge, but that does not grant me the right to challenge the worth of the person who holds those opinions.

The information highway seems to be stripping away the sense of the need for civility in debate. I am happy to trade opinions, but I will not engage in a dialogue of rudeness. Someone writing a letter which they sign off, “Have Fun in Hell,” does not encourage a desire to try to understand where they are coming from.

I once belonged to a civic betterment organization that I eventually quit. When asked why, the only reason that seemed honest was, “It reminded me too much of everything I disliked about high school.” In some respects it seems that the world hasn’t moved far on from there.

So for now, it’s back to the stories, the parables of Jesus, the proverbs and psalms. Back to the words that will help me forget so many words. Oh, you’ll keep hearing from me on this site. It’s a good outlet and relatively safe.

Take Care – John Mann

 

 

Book of Peace Book of Power Conference

Whew!  Lorri and I arrived home Thursday absolutely exhausted but quite content with the BoP BoP conference this past week in Philly.  The presentations were all first rate, Tony Campolo gave a one hour sermon that I wished could have gone on for another hour!  I plan on putting his video on the Preaching Peace site as soon as I can edit it.  Walter Wink was also in good form taking us through his talk on Nonviolence for the Violent, exegeting and role playing texts from the Sermon on the Mount.

The other presentations from the event will be put online hopefully by the end of the weekend.

Thanks to all who shared with us.

Next week I am off to Ohio to do a men's retreat on mimetic theory and then at the end of the month back to Ohio to present the Philly paper at a Mennonite conference.  In July and August I plan on editing several of the seminars we filmed so we can have a new set of DVD's available and will be working on finishing up The Jesus Driven Life book.  Thanks for all your support. 

Michael

One Would Think

During the last few weeks I’ve been off my blog. As the saying goes, “There is a time to speak and a time to remain silent.” These days I’ve been in a time of listening and reflecting on experience.

Theology is indeed important. I once served a church where there was an active disdain for any ethos of theological reflection. The spirit at work in that community was one of hands on action. People did a lot of things in expression of their faith. Mission trips, work camps, paint-a-thons and serving meals at charity outlets were but some of their duties.

But when it came time to think, well who needs to think about doing? We already know what we should do. The need is to get busy with it, not sit and around and talk about it.

But there are times when wrestling with the nuances of theology is as important as wrestling with the soup tureens. Is torture a legitimate tool of interrogation? Many Christians seem to think so. Many Christians think otherwise. Many Christians think not. When we think about important things, the process has the potential to lead to important actions. So yes, theological reflection is very important. Thinking is a step in doing.

Otherwise, when we meet crisis we are easily drawn toward to the path of least resistance, expediency and the ends justify the means. Sometimes one needs to resist the flow of popular opinion in order to get at the truth of the matter at hand. That’s not always a pleasant prospect, nor does it always lead to happy outcomes. But truth, unlike beauty is not always in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes truth just is.

The challenge is getting to it, recognizing it, accepting it and then living it. And then, reflecting on it, keeping it sharp and fresh and relevant; which means doing the same for ourselves. One would think that that sort of process would be a vital part of what being church was all about.

Tell us what you think.

Take Care – John Mann

Christians and Torture

Read this new piece from CNN on Christians and Torture:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/05/22/torture.christian/index.html

I am so struck by the fact that Evangelicals are in the forefront of those who who justify torture.  I cannot help but point out that the view that God was toruturing Jesus on the cross (the penal satisfaction theory of the atonement) lies behind such a justification. 

I point out that theology matters.  Some who wonder why we take such pains to mince theological hairs can begin to see that we live our theology; if we believe in torture we can only justify it from our theological tradition.

Won't you tihnk about the ministry of Preaching Peace and perhaps make a gift to it's ongoing work?

Michael

Vets Making Peace with the Earth & Themselves

This article really is a hopeful one.  In Washington State, an organization is helping returning vets who find it difficult to make it in the civilian world by training them in "green" jobs, working in the wilderness.  Now that is green peacemaking!!

http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/worklife/05/19/veterans.green.jobs/index.html

Michael

Pope Rummy & America's Crusade

I am going to do something I probably should not do, I am going to label GW and Rummy as fake Christians, false Christians, followers of a false Christ, indeed, an anti-Christ.  I am going to say that their version of what constitutes Christianity is not only heresy, it is the most damaging sort of synchophantic nationalistic nonsense we haven't seen since Charlemagne or Pope Urban II.  Even Adolf Hitler was not so stupid as to try and merge some kind of Christian dogma into his version of National Socialism (although many of his followers sought to).

The reports out on the now released Defense Intelligence Estimates given to Bush have pictures of US soliders in battle with Bible verses on their covers.  If this is not some kind of holy war mentality I don't know what is.  I cannot fault the Muslim world if they should get the impression that Christian (sic) America is out to destroy them. If the churches in America do not stand up and absolutely denounce this use of Scripture, if they are afraid of being politically incorrect or if they think they can stand idly by wait until we get a President whose mind is as sharp as Bill Clinton's and whose heart is as dark as Dick Cheney's they are dead wrong and not counting the cost of discipleship.

As you can tell, I am disgusted, distrubed, bothered and hot under the collar.  I did not once see Rummy quoting Jesus, for if he had, he could not have EVER justified this war we are in.  And I think of all those flag-waving Christians who think they are doing honor to both God and country at the same time, who sing militant hymns in church, who show triumphalist videos in their sanctuaries and I say: False shepherds, false Christians, you listen to a lying Spirit, a spirit of deception and murder, the Spirit of your progenitor who was a liar and muderer from the beginning.

This is not a political issue, this is a theological issue, it is to use the texts which are in the process of denouncing violence to justify violence and here is the rub:  it all comes down to a view of the inspiration and authority of Scripture which is believed to be fully inspired, infallible or inerrant.  It is time to get to the heart of this issue before a Christian fascist really takes hold of the White House.

Michael

Driven By Desire

After seven years and 97,000+ miles, my car gave me clear notice that I had a choice; either replace it or spend about $4,000 to get it back into shape.  

And so I entered the world of new car shopping.  There were two different cars I was considering, so I visited two different dealers. The experiences were an eye opening exercise in being manipulated by desire.  The first dealership greeted me enthusiastically and answered all my questions. When I asked to test drive a four cylinder basic model car, they produced one and sent me on my way. I liked the car; it was the updated model of my former car. It was comfortable, the new contours were streamlined and appealing, and the mileage was very good. It was also not an expensive car.  I left saying I'd like to think it over; the saleswoman graciously encouraged me to do so and to return at my convenience. The second dealership also greeted me enthusiastically.  However, the car they provided for me to test drive was not the four cylinder basic model I had phoned ahead and asked for. Instead it was a BEAUTIFUL bright red, 6 cylinder fully loaded car with every option I'd ever heard of and at least two that I didn't know existed. It boasted power everything: doors, seats, windows, locks; on-board navigation, cruise control, redundant sound controls on the steering wheel, separate air conditioning controls and vents for the back seat, a Bose sound system, tinted windows, and push button ignition, along with a new safety feature built into the key-less entry system.  While the electronic push button start spooked me after a recent electronic malfunction nightmare, there was a back-up key system. Oh, and the sunroof- did I  mention the sunroof? The car would do just about everything but talk to me, and I swear that was probably an option if I'd wanted to pay for it. The sales man insisted that I'd get the same feel for the car if I drove this one as I would if I drove what I'd asked for, which now seemed pretty puny by comparison. Besides, if I really insisted on test driving a different car, it was going to take him a while to get it out from it's gridlocked position in the back lot. Never mind that I had called ahead; never mind that I knew this was a marketing ploy; never mind that I was never, not in a million years, going to buy this particular car- I graciously got in rather than put him to the trouble of getting what I'd asked for and I drove the super power car.

Boy, did it drive! It was smooth, it was quiet, and it was wonderful. It handled as if it was part of me; responding to every move I made, seamlessly.  The driver's seat (with its own power controls) wrapped me in comfort, supporting my back and cradling my sensitive aging joints with well cushioned upholstery.  The air conditioning simply happened; there was no blast of hot air in my face to start and no stream of cold air to freeze my head while the rest of me simmered either. There were so many vents that the whole vehicle just seemed to cool off spontaneously.  The sound system made me think I was at the symphony, and the sunroof illuminated the interior with natural light.  When it comes to mode of transportation, heaven may provide this car for the angels; winged flight would be more work than this ride.  I drove around in a very big circle, down country roads, out onto the highway, and back to the dealership.  With the exception of the non-stop chatter meant to be encouraging from the salesperson in the back seat, it was an amazing experience. Of course, when we got back to the dealership, the sales pitch kicked into high gear. Did I like the car? Of course! Anyone with eyes to see would like the car! Did I feel how smooth the ride was, did I recognize how well appointed the car was, did I understand how the features would keep me safer and get me wherever I was going better than anything else I'd driven? Again, of course. I understood all of these things. I also understood a sales pitch when I heard one, and I wasn't particularly impressed with the lengths the salesman was going to to pitch his product. It was amusing; I felt like I'd stepped back in time to an era when consumers were ignorant of how they were enticed to consume, when advertising was regarded as factual and true instead of pitched to get a particular response. I didn't appreciate the rather obvious ploys to entice me to buy this car. As an educated consumer, a person aware of the dynamics of desire and the tactics used to elicit it, I had thought myself, if not quite immune, at least beyond the reach of such techniques. And in many ways, I was. I easily ignored the chatter about the cars desirability, instead measuring my own experience up against the first one in my head and discovering to my horror that I WANTED this one. I did. I really wanted all the bells and whistles, all the comfort and luxury, all the special power features. After all- it would keep me safer- and who could argue with safety as a legitimate reason for making a purchase?  Wasn't that why I was buying a new car in the first place?  Ultimately the salesman's full frontal attack wore thin, and I had no trouble telling him that I was leaving without purchasing the car. I knew I had been set up and manipulated to bring me to the point of desire for this car. I could see and name just how that was accomplished. What stunned me was that it worked. While I found the sales pitch to be so obnoxious that I'd have gone to another dealership for the same car if I'd decided to buy it, I was deeply surprised by the desire that the experience of driving the car aroused in me. Why shouldn't I have this car? Why shouldn't I spend my money this way?  Didn't I deserve it? Wasn't I worth it?  I have to tell you that I honestly felt different about myself when surrounded by luxury, and recognizing that horrifies me.  What brought me back to my senses was the encouragement from both the sales agent and my husband to "buy what will make you happy." That did it. I know that a car will not make me happy. Many things in life contribute meaningfully to my happiness, but cars have never been one of them. Teetering on the edge of losing my own identity in the desirability of the car, I backed off and said no. No, I was not buying the car, at least not today. I'd have to think about it.

I think the salesman and I were equally crushed. He because he had failed to sell me the car; me because he almost succeeded. What he didn't know was that it would take me another two days before I could embrace the first car with anything resembling enthusiasm. Cars are powerful symbols in our culture, and as such they are powerfully desirable objects. I had to literally back off and review my own desires before I could make a rational decision about which car to buy. I went home and considered other cars that weren't even initially in the running, so disturbing was this process.  Ultimately, my decision was still driven by desire, but at least I can say that I was able to separate my genuine desires from the cultural overdrive of desire that I was caught up in. There's no way out of it; desire is what moves us in life to love and compassion and response to the gospel just as surely as it is what distracts us from those very same pursuits.

This experience of temptation and desire was a healthy surprise for me; I really don't care about cars, never have and probably never will. Yet even I was tempted to buy more than I needed or wanted by the images and experience that luxury conveyed. It was a powerful reminder that we are indeed driven by desire.  The response to an old slogan may be appropriate here: "If God is your co-pilot, switch seats." 

I bought the first car.  And I'd like to think I switched seats.

nancy hitt.

Theology & Peace Conference

May 26-28 is the second Theology and Peace Conference.  Three years ago Tony Bartlett, Tom Nicoll and I convened a group of folks interested in the relationship between mimetic theory and peace. Our first gathering featured presentations by Willard Swartley, Gerald Mast, Tony and others.  For two days we hammered out how we saw the mimetic theory in relation to historic Peace Church perspectives.  That gathering was such a success that a provisional board was developed and last year in Maryland was held the second T&P meeting.  It has been broadened ecumenically to include all Christian perspectives. The group grows year by year with pastors, theologians and laity all sharing in this new revolutionary paradigm.  Here is the link to the story of how T&P began.

http://theologyandpeace.org/our-story.html

If you have these days in May free, I encourage you to register NOW for this year promises to bring lots of light (and I suspect a little heat!).  For more information and to register here is the link:

http://preachingpeace.org/theopeace2.htm

For all those waiting until the last minute to decide, please consider joining us at Techny Towers near Chicago.

Michael