faithasawayoflife

Youth, faith and doubt

I've been pretty awed by the profound things my own kids say about faith and doubt, not only now at 8 and 10, but for years. Sometimes my daughter will say she thinks all this Jesus stuff is what adults made up to make children behave (moralistic children's sermons, anyone?).  This week I got asked the following question by a teen and I think it is pretty interesting, both her way of framing the question, and what it represents in terms of what Charles Taylor talks about as our social imaginary.  She lives in a Lutheran family, goes to church most Sundays and has her whole life, and yet she lives in a culture where the questions raised are of the 'scientifically curious' sort.  How can we not deal with that in our apologetics? I think too often we side-step the fundamental of talking about how we might believe at all and move quickly to questions of the bible or Christian life.

So, she asked:

"Is it OK to be confused about God? I mean, I don't have any proof he's here, and as a member of the overtly cynical 1990s generation, I wanted to know if there really is evidence for Jesus and God's existence. If there is, could you show some? (Just so you know, this question isn't meant in a "ha there is no evidence" way, but rather a "I'm scientifically curious" way.)"

And I answered:

I hope it is okay. Most of the disciples who followed Jesus were confused about who he was! I love the story in Mark 9 that ends with this exclamation: "No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the father cried, 'Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!'" That for me is a faith statement.

Did Jesus exists? No question, really. The historical evidence is overwhelming. Similar to Aristotle or Julius Caesar, we don't have photos or video. But it is not really in doubt that he lived and died and then appeared alive again to his disciples whose lives were so dramatically changed by the events that they each--to a person--died in the service of their mission to tell the story of Jesus. God? Evidence is an interesting question. Science tells us about natural phenomena: does an apple always fall from a tree? (Newton, law of gravity). God questions have to do with other sorts of questions (non-scientific questions). Not 'how did the world get here' but 'why are we here' and 'what is life for?' How you answer the first can influence the second and third, of course, but belief in evolution, for instance, by no means precludes belief in God, or in a loving purpose behind the unfolding of life on earth. I think about the nature of human relationships as evidence--how deeply we need each other, need affirmation, need love, to thrive. It is in our deepest nature to need that. Doesn't that point to the possibility of an ultimate love as our source? I also think about the beauty of nature--a horse, for example, and the complexity and beauty of the variety of horses. Or a simple, single rose. Or a very amazing song. All have this creative and awesome spark that makes me feel grateful and awed. I take the leap of faith and say, the source of that creative spark, that original place of love and logic, is God. Do you have to come out there? No, lots of people don't. But I think it makes life harder, and makes less sense to not believe. Jesus, then, becomes a living guide in understanding God. He is like a window in the skies, helping me to know personally the unknown God.

Anon, and peace,
Chris

Greening farm country: census shows spike in micro-farms

Just pulled in the paper and on the cover I see stats from the recent farm census that shows that between 2002 and 2007 Minnesota added 2,200 small to micro farms.  We're among the only states with net gain in farms, and the growth in small farms is a big reason.  Also, as of 2007 there were 368 farms with a coop structure (the so-called CSA model).  While big farms are also growing, and that transformation is part of the story (economies of scale in milk production, for instance, pressing farmers to have thousands and not just hundreds of cows), I am so impressed by the huge growth of the local small farms and the turn towards local foods that the CSA movement represents.
Anon, and peace,
Chris

Green Sisters

 I'm trying to do some catch-up posts on things I've been thinking about / doing but haven't blogged, especially since the spring semester starts Monday so we'll see how busy I get (really busy, I think).

I presented a paper called "Broken Things, People and Ground: Environmental Justice in Dialog with Liturgical Theology" at the Society of Christian Ethics in early January. It was in part my effort to think through how I might bring together my everyday commitments to living sustainably and my academic concerns with worship and everyday life.  We're just about at launching for some 'Green' initiatives at Luther where I work, so hopefully I can help move along that process as well.

The paper was an evaluation and extension of Gordon Lathrop's liturgical theology, and that went well. I don't know where it will be published, but I have further work to do on it before it comes out anyway. But doing a session on environmental ethics led me further into conversation with my Yale colleauge, Willis Jenkins, who is a great young scholar doing good work at the intersection of theology and ecology. His book Ecologies of Grace is here.   I tried to build my arguments out of a case study of a particular cry, a specific site of broken things, people and ground, and that was the story of the arsenic poisoning in the Phillips neighborhood around our church in Minneapolis.  Willis said one of the best things he'd seen along these lines--starting with a strong case study--was the book Green Sisters.  I've just ordered it and it reminds me all over again that no matter the ebb and flow of Rome, their are communities of radical Catholics living faith in inspiring ways.  Here's another case, just out in the NYT, about sisters building a new 'Green Convent'. 

Anon and peace,
Chris

Mako Fujimura's new book Refractions

I've mentioned the amazing art of my friend Mako Fujimura which will grace the cover of my new book, Broken Hallelujahs.  Now let me encourage people to check out his new book, Refractions: A Journey of Faith, Art, and Culture.  It is new from Navpress and is a series of gem-like essays intersecting his own life, art and faith.  Lovely and a great meditation option for lent.  I have a free copy for the first person who leaves a comment describing the name of his specific style of painting with a short explanation of what it is that makes it distinctive.  Bonus if the explanation is theological!  It is, for Mako.
Anon and Peace,
Chris

The grace of the call

A friend, Mark Ostlie-Olson, was ordained yesterday. It reminded me how moving it is to see someone so gifted and at home in the office of pastor. In some profound sense he doesn't 'need' the ordination (I suppose I mean psychologically) so he can wear the call gracefully and with integrity. Blessing, Mark!
Anon, and Peace
Chris