On Sunday, May 19, 2013 the church will celebrate its 1,975th birthday.  (Well, 1,980 maybe . . . we're being conservative here, for once.)  In any case, Happy Birthday!

Now, when you're that long in the tooth, it's important to see your optometrist.  Understandably, your vision might be impaired.  So, on the occasion of this year's birthday celebration, how might we attend to the health of our defining (and motivating) vision as a community of people that call themselves "Christian?"

A good place to begin is at the beginning . . . nearly, but not quite, 2000 years ago, however you count them up.

"Pentecost" is the name given to the church's birthday celebration and it commemorates the pouring out of the Holy Spirit upon an assembly of early Jewish Christians who travelled from all parts of the Mediterranean to gather in Jerusalem.  Perhaps the most important take away meaning of that event is that, because of the indwelling of God's Spirit, each could understand the other although they spoke in a variety of different languages.

Surely, it is that Spirit that defines "church."  No?  It's missing creedal formulations, doctrines?  Well, consider this from                     Fr. Richard Rohr, one of the leading voices in the Emerging Christianity/Church Movement:

"The Christian tradition became so concerned with making Jesus into its God, and making sure everybody believed that Jesus was God, that it often ignored his very practical and clear teachings. (Has Christianity been known for loving its enemies, or even building bridges of understanding between peoples?) Instead, we made the important issues abstract theological questions about the nature of God (which ask almost nothing of us except argument). Much of our church life has been on that level, and no one ever really "wins," and so it goes on for centuries. Churches divide and separate largely over nonessential Gospel issues. "Who can pour the water, when, and what do they say?"

What the Buddha made clear to his people is that the crucial questions are first of all psychological and personal, and here and now. I think that Jesus was also first talking about the human situation and describing the issues of human liberation right here and now. Clearly the Kingdom of God, as Jesus describes it, is first of all here and now, and is the very thing we ask for in our official "Our Father" prayer: "thy kingdom come" here!

Despite it all, we turned Jesus' message into a reward-or-punishment contest that would hopefully come later-instead of a transformational experience that was verifiable here and now by the fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23). Probably more than anything else, this huge misplacement of attention anesthetized and weakened the actual transformative power of Christianity. It all got moved into "later" and frankly only for a few. For both Jesus and for the Buddha, rewards and punishments are first of all inherent to the action and in this world. Goodness is its own reward and evil is its own punishment, and then we must all leave the future to the mercy and love of God, instead of thinking we are the umpires and judges of who goes where, when, and how. What a cosmic waste of time and energy and attention."

Adapted from "Jesus and Buddha:  Paths to Awakening", CD, DVD and MP3.  This was Rohr's daily email meditation for May 14, 2013 and is available free from https://cac.org/sign-up.


Or consider what another leading thinker of the same Emerging Christianity/Church Movement has recently written.  Brian McLaren comes at the same theme but more from-the-outside-in than Rohr, who is an inside-to-the-outside contemplative.  McLaren asks what Christianity and its churches would look like if they were similarly "Spirit filled."  He provides an answer in his latest book with the very intriguing title,
Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road?: Christian Identity in a Multi-Faith World. 

The publisher's review on Amazon describes well what McLaren is up to here:

"When four religious leaders walk across the road, it's not the beginning of a joke. It's the start of one of the most important conversations in today's world.

Can you be a committed Christian without having to condemn or convert people of other faiths? Is it possible to affirm other religious traditions without watering down your own?

In his most important book yet, widely acclaimed author and speaker Brian McLaren proposes a new faith alternative, one built on 'benevolence and solidarity rather than rivalry and hostility.' This way of being Christian is strong but doesn't strong-arm anyone, going beyond mere tolerance to vigorous hospitality toward, interest in, and collaboration with the other.

Blending history, narrative, and brilliant insight, McLaren shows readers step-by-step how to reclaim this strong-benevolent faith, challenging us to stop creating barriers in the name of God and learn how affirming other religions can strengthen our commitment to our own. And in doing so, he invites Christians to become more Christ-like than ever before."

Clearly and thoughtfully, with a passion both for Christianity and it's central value of hospitality, both Rohr and McLaren represent voices that provide a new vision which our churches . . . many of them woefully myopic . . . would do well to consider.  As with any vision worth following, their vision seems instigated, infused, and informed by the Spirit . . . just as was the vision rooted in the church's experience on that first day of Pentecost so long ago.

We live in a time in which the Spirit is blowing strong and free amongst many Christians.  But if you're uncomfortable trusting such modern writers, consider that it is only their words that are new . . . not the Spirit.  An example of an ancient but similar voice is that of Eochaid Forchella a.k.a. Dallan Forgaill.  Who?  Born in Ireland in 530 A.D., he was the poet/monk who penned, among other things, the lyrics to a hymn often sung today:  Be Thou My Vision.

Somehow, he became blind at an early age, and so acquired the nickname Dallan or "little blind one."  How apt, then, that he should write his poem addressed to God and which begins, "Be Thou my vision."  In 598 A.D., and unable to see the approach of the enemy, he was killed in a Viking raid on the island of Inniskeel where his monastery was located.

His poem was translated into English in 1912 by Eleanor Hull, herself an authority on ancient Irish texts.  Her work appears below.  Usually set to the Irish folk tune, "Slane," it's an appropriate birthday song for us to sing . . . perhaps when we take a break from reading McLaren's book. 

       Be Thou My Vision 

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven's joys, O bright Heaven's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

<Back to Seasonings