On Being an Ecumenical: Part 2

Last week, I introduced you to a new noun, Ecumenical, and why Evangelical has become tainted. In today’s post, I want to walk you through my new definition of the term.

Even though the original intent of the word has merit, I think Ecumenical is a better term than Evangelical. It is a term that might embody what the Jesus tradition is all about and allow us to tell a great and hopeful story, one that people are longing to hear.

As an adjective, ecumenical means promoting unity and oneness among the world’s Christian churches. It seeks cooperation and better understanding among different Christian traditions. It values the beauty of diversity, names and embraces our differences, sees everyone as members of the same community, all the while not letting these things bring division. A lofty goal, for sure.

Ecumenical comes from the Greek oikoumene, which can mean “the whole inhabited earth.” It’s used in a handful of different ways in the Christian scriptures, but many branches of Christianity have used it to denote the catholicity or the universality of the Church.

I have found that ecumenicalism is a movement back to the essentials, back to the apostolic faith, back to the affirmation of the Nicene and Apostle’s creeds, and back to the elements that actually unite all of us. Regardless of our traditions, if we’re honest, I think we can get on board with such a movement.

Before he was executed, Jesus prayed for all of us who would believe in him. A simple and profound prayer, Jesus prayed that, despite our differences, we might be one. He didn’t pray that we would be theologically correct in all doctrines, or that we would memorize the Bible, or that we would all be in the same church, or that we would all think or pray or worship the same way. He prayed an ecumenical prayer over us. He prayed that we would be one so that all people will know God loves them and sent them Jesus.

Does that blow your mind? It does mine.

So, when the Christian Church is one, unified, or ecumenical, that will be how all people will know that God loves them and became visible and knowable in the person of Jesus. That’s how the incarnation of Christ will continue….when we become Ecumenicals. It’s right there in our beloved scriptures and right there in Jesus’ prayer.

I’m realizing that this wasn’t what I was taught. Oneness wasn’t an esteemed value. Instead, I was taught my ‘one’ tradition was better than all the other false ones out there. I heard this message in each tradition I’ve been a part of. Those other Christian traditions were wrong and we were right and knew the real truth. Because they weren’t like us, they had no place with us. Such divisive hubris.

Additionally, particular spiritual practices or rhythms that seemed too Catholic or too Orthodox or too traditional had no place in our lives. What deeply saddens me is that in an effort to be uniquely relevant, we stripped away so many spiritual practices, rhythms, and liturgies that we ended up losing richness, depth, and beauty, and we became irrelevant.

I think we can do better. I think we can live better as Ecumenicals.

Stay tuned. In my next post, I will show you how to be an Ecumenical.

Read Part Three here.

On Being an Ecumenical

I am claiming an adjective as a new noun. I’m an Ecumenical.

I have been in a soul searching season for the last couple of years and I have discovered that I’ve always been an Ecumenical, I just didn’t have the word for it. This post is my attempt to define it. My manifesto on being an Ecumenical.

I grew up Lutheran, became a Baptist, spent years in non-denominational and evangelical Protestant churches, became ordained in a pietistic denomination, currently work as a chaplain at a university founded by the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and have started attending an Episcopal church. A church mutt, you might say, and I think being Ecumenical is deep in my bones.

For a long time, I proudly identified as an evangelical, but these days I find that term no longer means what it once meant.

The term evangelical originates in the Greek term euangelion, which means gospel, or good news. The Protestant faith tradition that took on that adjective is full of passionate people willing to share good news, who emphasize salvation by faith, individual and communal conversion and transformation, the authority of ancient scriptures, and a deep desire to bring people to a dynamic personal faith. I believe in this and it’s a part of who I have been for a long time.

But, to a lot of people, that is not what the term means anymore.

To a lot of people, ‘evangelical’ is synonymous with fundamentalist, anti-women, anti-LGBTQ, and just plain anti-nice or -decent. When 81% of white evangelicals vote for a conservative presidential candidate that makes outlandishly racist, sexist, and xenophobic remarks, it sends a message, whether we realize it or not, that evangelicals are just that; white, conservative, racist, sexist, and xenophobic.

At this point, you might disagree with me and say, “Well, I’m not like that.” This might be true and I hope it is. We at least have to acknowledge, though, that this is how many people think of evangelicals. To them, evangelicals are not announcing good news, telling a better story for all people, or sharing hope.

The term evangelical has become tainted. Sure, we can try to reclaim it, and I know many individuals who are fighting to do just that. I’m thankful for their work. Sadly, I think that ship has sailed. I don’t think we should reclaim it, I think we should find a new term.

And, lucky for you, I did just that with turning Ecumenical into a noun. You’re welcome.

Of course, you’ll have to wait for my next post to understand how lucky you are and how I define Ecumenical.

Read Part Two here.

A Book Hoarder Set Free

I’m a recovering book hoarder, which is interesting considering I hated reading until I was in my mid-twenties. It became a dream of mine to have a huge personal library with hundreds (ok, let’s be honest, thousands) of books. It would be a visual reminder of all the knowledge that I soaked up but had most likely forgotten. Of course, I would regularly reference those books and reread them. People would come over and after we perused the spines, we’d sip tea and discuss deep questions of life found in a book’s pages.

Then I moved a few times and had to pack up all those books that adorned my shelves and I was quickly convinced to rid myself of most of them. Plus, I never had anyone come over to peruse some spines and drink tea.

My view of books has changed. Most books I treat as an experience which I enjoy while reading and can pass onto others. Most of the textbooks I’ve read for my degrees, I’ve rarely referenced. And the random goal I had to read every book by so-and-so author wasn’t thought out well. Only a few have I actually read a second or third time. To this day, though, I am still holding onto a Garfield book that was my favorite in elementary school.

So, I’ve been periodically whittling down my book collection to only the most impactful books and authors. These are the books that changed my way of thinking, transformed my soul, woke me up to a new level of awareness, and ones that I have and will read again.

I’ve linked them below if you’re looking for a great book to read. I’ve also included a few runner-ups.

East of Eden, by John Steinbeck

The Way of the Heart, by Henri Nouwen

Live of the Beloved, by Henri Nouwen

Wounded Healer, by Henri Nouwen

New Seeds of Contemplation, by Thomas Merton

Thoughts in Solitude, by Thomas Merton

Concerning the Inner Life, by Evelyn Underhill

Strength to Love, by Martin Luther King Jr.

Ragamuffin Gospel, by Brennan Manning

Lion and Lamb, by Brennan Manning

The Preacher and Prayer, by E.M. Bounds

Jesus and the Disinherited, by Howard Thurman

Becoming Human, by Jean Vanier

Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, by Ruth Haley Barton

Invitation to Solitude and Silence, by Ruth Haley Barton

The runner-ups:

Just This, by Richard Rohr

Reclaiming Conversation, by Sherry Turkle

The Prodigal God, by Timothy Keller

Just Mercy, by Bryan Stevenson

The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander

Mere Churchianity, by Michael Spencer

And most importantly, Garfield in Space, by Jim Davis.

Just a Reminder: You Are So Much More

For a while, it was a goal of mine to have a huge personal library with hundreds or thousands of books. Then, I moved a few times and had to pack up all those books that adorned my shelves and I was quickly convinced to rid myself of a few...hundred. Now, I’m trying to whittle down my book collection to only the most impactful books and authors.

One of my favorite authors is Henri Nouwen. A Catholic priest, Nouwen was one of the most profound spiritual writers in the last century.  Much of his work centers on humanity’s belovedness, identity, personal and spiritual formation, and ancient contemplative practices. I’ll read anything and everything he has written (and I encourage you to do the same).

Nouwen speaks of three lies we believe about ourselves in order to earn love, happiness, reputation, success, or belovedness. These three statements he calls the lies of our identity. They are:

1. I am what I do.

2. I am what I have.

3. I am what others say or think of me.

It is upon these statements, Nouwen believes, that we try to build our identity and our lives.

We try to achieve so much we can feel like human doings rather than human beings. We purchase unneeded material possessions to impress people we don’t really like, sometimes with money we don’t even have. And, we believe the thoughts or words of another person, even a stranger, summarize the entirety of our personhood. Building our lives upon such statements, though, often brings more stress, frustration, and unhappiness than peace, joy, or love.

The profound mystery of the spiritual life, however, is a truth that proves these statements to be lies. For the truth is you are not what you do, you are not what you have, you are not what others say or think of you.

You are so much more than that. You are a beloved child of the Divine. That changes everything. I hope you’re reminded of that today.

Attentive to Advent, Not Social Media

Because of a new software update on my phone, every Sunday morning I get a notification from Apple’s Screen Time app telling me how many hours I used my phone in the last week. Have you looked at that app? It tells you how many times you pick up your phone, the minutes you use each app, the number of notifications in a day, and your average weekly and daily usage.

At around the same time as I started getting these notifications, I starting looking at rhythms in my life; daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly rhythms. Those which were life-giving, those which were draining, those that I would like to change, and those that I would hope to incorporate. This has been a refreshing and deliberate process for me.

Over the last couple years, I have changed the way I use technology. I have realized that the technology which was created to connect us with people far away has actually become the barrier in connecting us with people directly in front of us. More often than not, I’m tethered to a device, almost a slave to its notifications and vibrations, and that makes me less present to life around me. And, I know I am not alone.

About a year ago I decided to make a few simple changes. Now, I no longer keep a phone near my bed at night and instead bought myself an old school alarm clock. I’ve deleted a lot of apps that wasted my time, such as Facebook, CSR Racing, Monument Valley, Candy Crush, and SimCity Build It (Ah, how I miss them). And, I’ve tried to make sure there are times in my day and week where I am not near my phone or laptop.

These simple changes have been great and helped me be less tethered to a device. And, I thought I was doing OK...until Screen Time. Now it’s been visualized just how much time I spend on other social media apps such as Instagram, Twitter, Amazon, and Gmail. These are keeping me connected to something other than my family, they are my go to when I’m waiting in line or am ‘bored,’ and are always there when I’m hoping to see the latest and greatest post.

So, with the arrival of the Advent season, I’ve decided to take a break from all social media. (Incidentally, I feel like a complete nincompoop posting on social media that I am stepping away from social media. That seems so counterintuitive.)

I’m deleting all apps from my phone and blocking websites on my laptop. I’m going to intentionally make my smartphone a dumb phone. I’m also planning to shut off my phone for an entire day once a week. Although this new rhythm will only be for a matter of weeks, I think it might be a great one; one that allows me the space to wait for the One’s arrival we celebrate in Advent, to open myself to the One who is always present to me, and to step away from things that seek my attention so that I might be attentive to the One who became the Christ.

This is the time of year we celebrate the incarnation, the Divine becoming “in fleshed,’ and I want to better model incarnation in my own life. I want to be present to God, be present to my wife, be present to my sons, be present my friends, present to nature around me, and present to Christ who is in all and through all. Here’s to a new rhythm. See you soon.

Leaving Behind Santa for the Divine

I was recently reminded of the following quote from the English author, Karen Armstrong:

We often learn about God at about the same time as we are learning about Santa Claus; but our ideas about Santa Claus change, mature, and become more nuanced, whereas our ideas of God can remain at a rather infantile level.

What a striking thought for us to ponder as we enter the holiday season. Have our views of the Divine remained infantile? Are they no longer working for us? Or, have our views of the Divine grown deeper, evolved with our experiences, become more nuanced, and introduced us to a God that is bigger than the box in which we often put God?

Some theologians have described the spiritual path as one that includes times of construction, deconstruction, and reconstruction. And, I think this is the point Karen Armstrong is making. For many of us, a spiritual path was constructed for us, but as we have grown up we have found it no longer works.

Just as we deconstruct our view of Santa Claus after childhood (at least I’m assuming you’ve done this), it is easy for us to deconstruct (and even reject) an infantile view of the Divine, rather than reconstruct a faith that leads us to new levels of spiritual awareness. One of the early Saints described such a spiritual journey as moving from drinking only milk to feeding upon nutritious solid food.

I have experienced such a process in my own spiritual journey. In fact, I moved away from not only an infantile faith, but one that correlated the Divine as some sort of Heavenly Santa who would give me presents, or blessings, when I was good and give me coal when I was bad, or sinned. This type of God reflected the Santa Claus seen in Coca-Cola commercials; an old plump white guy with a beard who seems, at the same time, both jolly and somewhat creepy.

Yet, I crave a spiritual path and a God that is bigger, more complex, and more mysterious than a Heavenly Santa Claus. I want to embrace the Divine who is Love, Grace, Truth, Hope, Peace, Justice, and Joy. The One who is always present to me, as close as my very breath, who is before, through, and in all things, and is working to make everything new.

Maybe you do, too.

If so, my hope for all of us this holiday season is that we sense the Divine in fresh and new ways, that we encounter a spiritual path that embraces nuances, doubts, and ambiguities, and that we reconstruct a bold and mature faith that leads us to love, hope, joy, and peace.

Two Years Transforming; Forever Grateful

For the last two years, I traveled to a monastery outside of Chicago every three months for a three day retreat to tend to my soul. With a group of 70 others, as part of the Transforming Center, we practiced ancient spiritual practices and rhythms such as silence, solitude, centering prayer, lectio divina, confession, the daily office, and more. We traveled together down a road of spiritual transformation and it happened in this place.

For the last two years, I was fortunate to sit under the teaching of Ruth Haley Barton. I had one of her most well-known books, Sacred Rhythms, for about a decade. A mentor of mine had given it to me years before I entered ministry. I had never opened that book. A few years ago, though, I finally took it off my shelf….and donated it. I was going through a minimalism phase and thought I had no need for it.

Then, as part of this community, I had to re-buy, read it, confess to Ruth what I did with her book, and, of course, have her sign my new copy.

During these years, Ruth became my rabbi. We read her books, listened to her stories, studied her teachings, and practiced spiritual rhythms. I was honored to sit at her feet and follow in her footsteps.

It’s difficult to put into words what this experience has meant to me because it has radically altered my soul, mind, and life. For someone who was so eager to enter ministry and do work for God, I was shocked at how quickly I became burnt out and forgot to be with God. The Divine has become more real for me, present with me, and alive to me. It has truly been one of the most profound spiritual experiences of my life and I am ever grateful for this community.

I have learned to be present to the One who is always present to me.

I have learned to be with God before doing for God as well as how to be in God for the world rather than in the world for God.

The best thing I can bring to my leadership, life, family, and work is my own spiritually transforming self.

Silence and solitude have become essential practices for spiritual health.

The Daily Office gives me a rhythm to commune with God throughout my day.

Centering Prayer and the Breath Prayer have settled my soul.

Spiritual transformation happens, not because I do anything, but because I open myself up to the God who transforms.

And I have learned that in returning and rest you shall be saved, in quietness and trust shall be your strength, for the Lord waits to be gracious to you.

If you follow the Christian tradition, perhaps as a leader of an organization or work in ministry, want to pursue seminary, yet feel as if the Christian faith isn’t working anymore, if you’re tired or worn out, if it seems as if God is distant, or if ministry is killing your soul, I encourage you to join a Transforming Community.

It has made me a better husband, father, friend, coworker, and neighbor. It has made me a better human. It has healed my soul. God will use it to change your life, too.