community – Page 14 – Southwest Conference Blog

The Tyranny of Sunday

by Karen Richter

I was sharing work-related woes with a friend the other day. He was relating how there are some in his organization who have a penchant for making things more complicated than they need to be. Sometimes, he noted, work expands to fit the time available and some of us tend to be mesmerized by complexity.

“Your office needs a Sunday,” I told him.

Huh?

Here’s a glimpse into church life: Sunday comes after 6 days of non-Sundays every single week. Let’s say your church has a great Sunday: the pews are full, the offering basket is full too. The message is inspiring; the choir knocks it out of the park. At coffee hour, conversation is lively and welcoming.

Awesome. Now do it again in 6 days.

Let’s say, conversely, that Sunday doesn’t go so well. It’s a holiday weekend and lots of people are elsewhere. The microphone makes crazy noises; the coffee is burned. Someone forgets to grab the bread for communion and the congregation sings flat.

Awesome. Now do better in 6 days.

What I call ‘the tyranny of Sunday’ is this: whether things are good or bad, you get another chance the very next week. Buckle up, buttercups! At my friend’s workplace, they seemed to need the time crunch of a metaphorical Sunday to keep projects moving forward. Sunday is a cure for beleaguered decision-making, perfectionism, and micro-management.

This is the way calendars work, of course. But it makes for good theology.

The pressure is on! Every week, church clergy and staff and musicians and volunteers strive to put together a meaningful experience of connection to one another, connection to our lived experience, and connection to the Mystery we call God. People depend on their church family, and this work matters.
But hey, no pressure! We never know what someone brings with them on Sunday. We can’t foresee what might be touching or meaningful to the people in the pews. We can’t bat 1000 every week, so we do our best and leave the results in God’s hands.
The consistency of weekly worship guides us through the liturgical seasons. The combination of regular gatherings and the poles of the Church year (Lent/Easter and Advent/Christmas) promote balance and growth.
A regular day is okay! I’m sometimes astounded when I recall that I really enjoyed the sermon on a particular Sunday, but now I can’t remember the topic. Being together as a worshiping community is often enough. Lifetimes are made from regular days and vibrant active churches are made from regular Sundays.

Maybe other weekly rituals and tasks work the same way. If you’re a Saturday Night Live cast member, let me know your thoughts.

Take care, everyone. See you… on Sunday.

A Rushing Wind From Heaven: Pentecost Activity Ideas for Children and Intergenerational Groups

by Karen Richter

I love Pentecost! The story of Pentecost Acts chapter 2 is full of exciting, energizing images and symbols that can make a meaningful formation experience for children of all ages and for multi-age, intergenerational groups. Here are some ideas for your faith community!

Wear red! Eat a red snack! Talk about the liturgical colors for different seasons.
Colors of the Church Year:
Collect red scarves or make finger-knitted red scarves. How to finger knit
Build a “campfire.” People in Jesus’ time knew the power of fire – to warm homes, to cook food, to destroy. Build a safe inside campfire with a camping lantern, crepe paper and construction paper and a fire ring made of classroom blocks. Tell stories around the fire! Here’s a fire we made earlier this year.
Language exploration: Invite people in your congregation to share snippets of other languages. Explore and discuss: what languages do you hear around you? Take note of the languages people speak in your school or community. When people don’t speak the same language, what are some ways we can communicate? Can we learn different ways to say “welcome?”
Make kites or windsocks.
Experience the power of wind… when air is warmed it MOVES! Stretch a small balloon over a water bottle. Watch the balloon inflate when you place the bottle in a bowl of hot water. How do we move when we are warmed by love?
Paper airplanes!
Song Writing: It’s birthday of the Church… a large multi-age group might have a lyrics context for a new birthday song. You may want to have an idea list of some familiar tunes to pair with new Pentecost words.
Sharing a snack or bread. In Acts 2: 42-47, we learn more about the early church, how they broke bread together every day.
Speaking up! Think about the strength in Peter’s words in verses 17-20 of Acts 2. Kids can take turns using their “outside voice” and talking about when to use a strong voice to speak out.
Visions and dreams: provide a large piece of butcher paper or bulletin board background paper. Groups can share their visions and dreams from verse 17. For a multi-week activity, turn this art and the group’s ideas into a banner or other art project.
What does church look like? For an older elementary or youth group, use a laptop and Google image search to compile a collage of churches in different contexts. Maybe begin in Jerusalem and move out in all directions.
Art Form Conversation: Print some decent color copies of Pentecost art (thank you again, Google image search!). Strive for a fully participative discussion of art using the Focused Conversation methodology (also called Art Form Conversation). Begin always with Observation before moving on to emotions and meanings. Focused Conversation Basics
DIY Godly Play: use wooden peg figures or Lego minifigs and classroom materials to re-create the Pentecost scene. You might have these materials on hand to spark creativity: felt sheets and yarn (clothes and such), crepe paper or tissue paper, wooden or cardboard blocks, small bowl and water (for tiny baptisms!), chenille stems. Peg people
Perfection is not the goal… Here are my Palm Sunday peg people. Their palms are weeds from my yard:

Let Pentecost be a Sunday for your community during which the Spirit breaks loose and sets fire to your imagination! Have fun with this wonderful liturgical holiday. If you use any of these ideas, share your experience. I can’t wait to hear those Pentecost / Happy Birthday words to Yellow Submarine or see your paper airplanes and windsocks.

Blessings on your Easter season and Pentecost.

Why We Need a Spiritual Guide

by Teresa Blythe

While going it alone can be peaceful, even then there are times we need a spiritual guide.

Last week I intended to use the sacred spiral at the Steele Indian School Park in Phoenix as a labyrinth. I entered and began to walk the spiral clockwise because a native friend of mine convinced me that clockwise was the way of nature. My goal was to shed worries and fears moving into the depths of the spiral and feel empowered as I walked out. I didn’t want to offend nature so I veered to the left to work the spiral.

I began in good faith, but instead of deepening along the path to the center, I kept returning to the same starting point, which was frustrating. Surely this was a metaphor for my life. I seem to keep circling around to my same old worries and fears and staying on the surface instead of finding that deeper core where my spirit communes with God’s spirit.

How does this thing work?

Unsure whether I was “doing it wrong” or whether I had entered a spiritual twilight zone, I paused to ask a Native American family at the center of the spiral for directions.

“How many miles have you been walking?” asked the elder. “I don’t know, but I’m puzzled because I’m trying to circle down into the center but I keep returning to the same spot.” They just looked at me and smiled.

“What am I doing wrong? A friend of mine told me always to walk clockwise, as it’s the way of nature.”

A younger member of the family decided to let me in on the secret.

“Well, clockwise may be the way of nature, but this path winds counterclockwise.”

And that, my friends, is why we need guides along the path.

A guide sees what you have not yet seen or are too stubborn to see. (I was sure that spiral would be curling clockwise — big assumption.)

Good guides do not point your faults out until you ask them to. (I’m sure they figured out what was happening long before I asked.)

Listening to your guides and correcting your course rather than beating yourself up for not paying attention or being stubborn is how we grow in awareness. (After all I did round that spiral clockwise at least 3 times before I asked for help.)

Thank you, gracious family at the sacred spiral last week. Whether you realize it or not, you offered me a wonderful spiritual lesson.

Billy Graham and Our Desperate Need for Civility

by Ryan Gear

If the past two weeks have taught those of us in the religion world anything, it’s that Billy Graham is an even more controversial figure that we realized. After his death at 99 years old on February 21, a plethora of news articles and blog posts weighing in on his legacy flooded social media. It’s an understatement to say the reviews are mixed. That is likely the case among the readers of this blog, as well, and differences of opinion should be respected.

I grew up in a conservative evangelical household, and Billy Graham was an important part of my childhood. I actually came to faith in Christ while watching Billy Graham on television. I was only 11 years old, and while some may question an 11-year-old’s ability to make such a decision, my conversion experience was real, and it changed my life.

After 29 years of maturing faith, however, I hold different views than Billy Graham on some important issues, and I found myself conflicted since his death. The most oft-repeated criticisms cited his secretly taped 1972 conversations with President Nixon, his ambivalent relationship with the Civil Rights Movement, and his opposition to gay rights (although there is some question as to whether it was Billy or his son, Franklin, who was behind more recent political statements as Billy aged).

To his credit, Graham did assist Martin Luther King Jr. in small symbolic ways, he apologized profusely for his conversation with Nixon in 1972, and I wonder if, given health and time, perhaps he would have softened on his social views. While I wish Billy Graham would have been more open-minded, in his day, he was actually a moderate evangelical, at times expressing views that were not conservative enough for his base of supporters.

When the news of his death was announced, I expected a mixed reaction, but I was surprised by the extremes. The responses ranged from adulation and thankfulness to polite disagreement, and I would have to say, to revulsion and even hatred. The most derisive reaction, however, came from a Teen Vogue author who tweeted:

“The big news today is that Billy Graham was still alive this whole time. Anyway, have fun in hell, b*tch…” She continued, “‘Respecting the dead’ only applies to people who weren’t evil pieces of sh*t while they were living.”

When I encounter words of this nature, I assume that the person speaks from a deep place of pain, and I wish this writer peace and healing. I do not know her personal story and what lies behind her comments, so I choose to empathize with her. I wish that she had been able to show more empathy to Billy Graham. Anyone is free to disagree with Billy Graham’s views, but I also must ask if this tweet supposed to represent some kind of goodness in contrast. In my view, when one tweets “Have fun in hell, b*tch” to someone, that person cannot claim the moral high ground.

More troubling, this comment seems to be indicative of where dialogue in our culture is headed. The coarsening nature of society is obvious to anyone watching, and as Pew Research recently pointed out, we have become more polarized over the past 25 years. Talk radio and cable news hosts have been lobbing verbal bombs at one another since in the 1990’s, and our nation is now as divided as it’s been since in the 1960s. The most recent presidential election only widened the gap and pushed the rhetoric to new a low. I don’t even bother reading the comments under social media posts anymore, because the immaturity and rancor are often discouraging.

Here is what gives me hope, however— I am convinced that there is a large, middle majority of Americans who would like to see a greater sense of maturity that actually helps us solve the problems we all face. In a word, we know that we need a greater sense of civility. Civility is more than politeness. Civility is the willingness to work together, even with those with whom we disagree, for the benefit of society. Civility is the act of speaking out, protesting, and expressing our convictions but in a constructive way. It is the opposite of the pithy, one-liner insult that is now considered a “win” on social media platforms. Insults, like the cycle of violence, only lead to more insults. Civility gets results.

The lack of civility in our society has reached a tipping point. The solution to a bad guy with an insult is not a good guy with an insult. Violence won’t put an end to violence, and insults will not help to offset the daily half-truths and outright conspiracies propagated by radio and cable TV commentators. We teach our children not to engage in vicious smears and name–calling because we know that behavior does lead to any solution to the problems we face and it only breeds more distrust and chaos. We need civility.

It starts with you and me. For those who desire to follow Jesus, we would do well to remember His words in Matthew 5:22:

“But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.”

The word “fool” is more literally “empty headed,” or “idiot.” It is a dehumanizing term, an epithet that allows the offender to dispatch of the one derided as though the person is less than human, worthless. The root word implies someone worthy of being spit on. Jesus’ words are clear— dehumanizing language is a much more grievous sin that many of us realize. In fact, dehumanizing language creates a form of hell that we are forced to live in. Does anyone doubt that we are seeing it’s effects on our society now?

In contrast, in the next two verses, Jesus instructs us:

“So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

Here, reconciliation takes precedent over worship. Right relationships are even more important than a religious act. Notice that Jesus also demands that we are sensitive and intentional to actually know when someone has something against us. Apparently, we should actively search for ways that someone might have something against us and then seek to reconcile with them.

This is a picture of civility, and for the sake of our society, those of us who desire to follow Jesus should start leading by example. After Martin Luther King Jr., Billy Graham was likely the most influential religious figure of the 20^th century, and his death further revealed our society’s incivility and polarization. Regardless of our feelings about Graham, perhaps his death can become part of a redemptive story, a move toward civility in our society that begins with followers of Jesus.

I’m Needy

by Karen Richter

I’m needy and so are you.

How do you feel about being called needy? Why is needy such a pejorative… one of the worst things we can call someone else? As you’re reading, do you even hear that word differently, like ‘nEEEEEEEEE-dy,’ with an exaggerated tone and a little eye roll?

Our culture, even in our churches, is so infused with American-style rugged individualism. For our children (in lots of families), no skill is prized more than independence. Whether it’s toileting or sleeping solo or shoe tying, we are hell-bent, so to speak, on passing on the values of independence and individualism. English idioms in the US evince a huge cultural preference for NOT being needy.

self-made / ‘self-made man’
pull up by one’s own bootstraps
your own person
independent as a hog on ice
making it / I made that
lone wolf
free mind
live and let live
cup of tea / ‘that’s not my…’
grit
stiff upper lip
spunk
stand up / ‘stand up guy’
elbow room
green light
like a dog (doggedness, dog with a bone)
run of / ‘the run of the place’

However… have you tried recently to declare your independence from oxygen? from water? from food? from sleep? … from love?

We need things, and those things are remarkably consistent from person to person. Besides the usual physical needs (food, water, air, shelter), we need respect and fairness; we need to be heard; we need our lives to have meaning; we need a sense of safety. Can you think of other needs?

Today, can you be gentle with yourself? When things go sideways, can you ask, “What need was alive in me when this happened? What need was I trying to meet?”

Today, can you be gentle with others? When you’re tempted to blame and shame, can you ask, “What need might that person be trying to meet?” Even if you guess that person’s need incorrectly, you will have awakened your spirit to empathy.

Stop worrying, then, over questions such as, “What are we to eat,” or “what are we to drink,” or “what are we to wear?” Those without faith are always running after these things. God knows everything you need. Seek first God’s reign, and God’s justice, and all these things will be given to you besides.
~Matthew 6.31-34, The Inclusive New Testament (emphasis is mine ☺)

This kind of empathy for self and for others is a building block of Nonviolent Communication. It’s a helpful skill (I’m totally a beginner).

Explore more about human needs here.

Phoenix NVC Learners meetup

Blessings on your needy human journey!

In These Tough Times…

by William M Lyons

Ours is a world “no longer experienced as stable, predictable, or even comprehensible.”[1] Fear, anxiety and hopelessness have become hallmarks of how Americans feel these days, if not for ourselves, for our family members, our friends, or our neighbors. The question in our Gospel text is indeed the question of our day: What is this?!

In these tough times, Psalm 111 invites us to return to our spiritual center, focusing on the attributes and accomplishments of God.

“I give thanks to God with everything I’ve got—” writes the Psalmist. “Wherever good people gather, and in the congregation. God’s works are so great, worth a lifetime of study—endless enjoyment!

Splendor and beauty mark [God’s] craft; …generosity [that] never gives out, miracles [that make a lasting] memorial [to] this God of Grace, this God of Love.

[God] gave food to [ones] who fear him, remember[ing] to keep the ancient promise.

[God] proved to [Israel] that [what God said, God could really do]:

Hand them [a place and a home] on a platter—a gift!

[… manufacture] truth and justice;

[Everything God does is] guaranteed to last—Never out-of-date, never obsolete, rust-proof. All that God makes and does is honest and true: [paying] the ransom for his people, [ordering] God’s Covenant [be] kept forever. [God is] so personal and holy, worthy of our respect.

The good life begins in the fear of God—Do that and you’ll know the blessing of God. His Hallelujah lasts forever!^[2]

We may not see these qualities in our national or local leaders, but certainly God is:

Honorable
Majestic
Gracious
Merciful
Powerful
Faithful
Just
Trustworthy
Holy
Awesome

Because God is all those things and more, God does certain things. Psalm 111 calls them “wonderful deeds.” You can recount some of them; I know you can.

Creation
Leading the people out of Egypt
Giving them manna and quail in the wilderness
David triumphing over Goliath
Repeatedly saving the people from what appeared would be certain defeat
And the list goes on…

“The Hebrew word in Psalm 111 translated “wonderful deeds” is niphla’oth.” It means “something that I simply cannot understand,” or “something different, striking, remarkable; something transcending the power of human intelligence and imagination.” [3] Something that makes us say to ourselves and to others, “What is this?!”

If we must be caught up in what feels unstable, unpredictable, or even incomprehensible, then at least let us choose what things those will be! Both Psalm 111 and our Gospel story today invite us to choose the attributes and works of God as the center of our attention. There goes the oppression of powerlessness and hopelessness and anxiety -did you feel it start to lift?! If we must be caught up in what feels unstable, unpredictable, or even incomprehensible, then let us choose what things those will be: the honorable attributes and wonderful works of God!

In these tough times, we don’t see those honorable attributes or wonderful deeds in our most visible leaders, and so we find ourselves grieving our loss of those expectations and past experiences. And yet, honorable attributes and wonderful deeds are alive and well in our God. God invites us today and each day to center ourselves in God’s instability, God’s unpredictability, in God’s incomprehensibility, for there we find all that is holy and just, gracious and merciful, majestic and honorable, powerful, faithful, and awesome!

When the people in our Gospel story asked themselves and one another, “What is this?!” they weren’t crying out against their political or religious leaders, or their hopeless circumstances, or their own insecurities. They were raising their voices in awe for what Jesus was doing in their midst: speaking with authority, taking on evil, silencing accusing, judgmental, disruptive and divisive voices, calling out demons, and restoring wholeness to ones who were caught up in brokenness through no fault of their own.

As Karoline Lewis points out, Jesus’s Gospel dared to stand up to supposed authorities. His Gospel challenged assumed power which had never been earned. His Gospel ripped apart the barriers and boundaries and borders that separated people from God. His Gospel tore down walls rather than insisting on ways to build them. With His Gospel the dead didn’t even stay dead! [4]

But “there are risks in identifying the forces of evil and of God in contemporary struggles…,” writes Cynthia Briggs Ketteridge, “specifically, [and] particularly if one assumes oneself and ones’ own “people” to be on the side of God.” [5] Ones of us preaching out of positions of privilege or into communities with political and economic power must be careful about making that assumption. As Kettridge points out, “the community that performed and heard Mark’s gospel, was powerless and poor in a country occupied by a powerful empire. The theological imagination of the victory of God’s power over illness, disability, and danger was for them, lifesaving good news.”[6] The mere reminder that we can choose what kind of unpredictability, instability, and incomprehensibility we let ourselves get caught up in is for our time lifesaving good news!

But there is another risk. “…[ones] of us who decide to go about in the world, insisting that God is even for the unclean spirits, or for [ones] whom others have determined are unclean, will be suspect. After all, once God is really for everybody, well, there goes merit-based immigration. There goes regulation of pulpits. There goes justified discrimination. And there goes our own deep desire to make claims about God that are created in our own image.”[7]

Our Scripture readings today “provoke us to stop assuming that “the way things are” must always equal “the way things have to be.” The reign of God promises more, whether the “more” can be realized now”[8]

“In this first skirmish, Jesus prevails, but not without the unclean spirit protesting and acting out.”[9] By the end of Mark, the forces of evil launch an all-out campaign to silence and immobilize Jesus in death. “… the world’s response was to crucify that Gospel.” [10] But Jesus won’t stay dead, because who God is (attributes) and what God does is wonderful, and powerful, and bigger than death!

Psalm 112 reminds Israel that the same honorable attributes and wonderful works that characterize God should also characterize them.

In John 14:12 Jesus told his followers, “The person who trusts me will not only do what I’m doing but even greater things, because I, on my way to the Father, am giving you the same work to do that I’ve been doing. You can count on it.^[11]

So why are we so afraid to take on demons – our own, or the forces of evil in the world? Why are we willing to give ones who act for evil so much power – power they’ve not earned, and that God’s people have the authority to call out?

As it did in Jesus’ day, the cosmic conflict between good and evil has a socio-political dimension. We can be sure that if we are on the side of the powerless and poor, the marginalized and the oppressed, we are on God’s side. God has a long history or championing the cause of the disadvantaged, the suffering and the victimized, of siding with ones who have lost “their ability to control their movements and their voices” and are being “immobilized”[12]

“What is this?!” really is the question of our time. Let us live in ways that put skin on the honorable attributes and wonderful works of God! When ones around us see what we are up to and how we are going about it, let them be amazed and exclaim, ““What is this?!” And we will reply, “This is what the Good News of Jesus for our day looks like!”

¹Praise the Eternal [One]! How blessed are [ones] who revere [God],
who turn from evil and take great pleasure in [God’s] commandments.
²Their children will be a powerful force upon the earth;
this generation that does what is right in God’s eyes will be blessed.
³[Their] houses will be stocked with wealth and riches,
and [God’s] love for justice will endure for all time.
⁴When life is dark, a light will shine for [ones] who live rightly—
[ones] who are merciful, compassionate, and strive for justice.
⁵Good comes to all who are gracious and share freely;
they conduct their affairs with sound judgment.
⁶Nothing will ever rattle them;
the just will always be remembered.
⁷They will not be afraid when the news is bad
because they have resolved to trust in the Eternal One.
⁸Their hearts are confident, and they are fearless,
for they expect to see their enemies defeated.
⁹They give freely to the poor;
their righteousness endures for all time;^[^b^]
their strength and power is established in honor.
¹⁰The wicked will be infuriated when they see [good people] honored!
They will clench their teeth [pause] and dissolve to nothing;
and when they go, their wicked desires will follow.[13]

[1] Watkins, Mohr, and Kelly. Appreciative Inquiry: Change at the Speed of Imagination. p. 2

^[2] Language made inclusive and adapted from Peterson, E. H. (2005). The Message: the Bible in contemporary language (Ps 111:1–10). Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress.

[3] Nancy deClaissé-Walford. https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=232

[4] Adapted from Karoline Lewis. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5047

[5] Cynthia Briggs Kittredge. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3535

[6] Cynthia Briggs Kittredge. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3535

[7] Karoline Lewis. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5047

[8] Matt Skinner. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2343

[9] Cynthia Briggs Kittredge. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3535

[10] Adapted from Karoline Lewis. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5047

^[11] Peterson, E. H. (2005). The Message: the Bible in contemporary language (Jn 14:12). Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress.

[12] Cynthia Briggs Kittredge. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3535

[13] Psalm 112, The VOICE

There Is Hope for The Last Jedi… and for All of Us

by Ryan Gear

Reviews of the latest installment of the Star Wars saga The Last Jedi are as mixed as U.S political opinions, but one thing is certain. As much as the galaxy far, far away needs hope, we need it too. With a culture war raging in the U.S. and a resurgence of fascism in Europe, the Dark Side seems to be winning in our world at the moment.

As a people, we seem to be aware that we are trapped in a tragic time in history, and we need a spark of hope. Like the seven previous episodes, The Last Jedi is a great modern example of Greek tragedy. In his foundational work on drama, Poetics, Aristotle instructs that one of the features of a tragedy is that the main character possesses a tragic flaw.

The tragic flaw is a character deficiency or a mistake that leads to the main character’s downfall, and that downfall creates suffering both in the character’s life and usually in the lives of those around them. The first six episodes of Star Wars follow the life trajectory of Anakain Skywalker who becomes known as Darth Vader. His tragic flaw is obvious— for a combination of reasons he turns to the Dark Side of the Force. Brilliantly, he is also a physically flawed character who is so deformed by his choices that he needs his suit to live, move, and breath. Those first six episodes could be titled “The Tragedy of Anakin Skywalker.”

Similarly, in the latest two episodes, like his grandfather before him, Kylo Ren is a character with a tragic flaw. He wants to follow in the footsteps of his grandfather, Anakin, and a turn to the Dark Side is a necessary choice. In The Last Jedi, we see Kylo Ren’s tragic flaw contrasted primarily with the pure character and choices of Rey. She is a light to his path, and we can’t tell whether he is in love with her or only wants to use her power to accomplish his plans. The tragedy of Kylo Ren is unfolding in a way that will make Episode 9 interesting, and possibly just as controversial.

Aristotle’s Greek word for this tragic flaw is hamartia (pronounced Ha-MAR-tia). It was originally an archery term for when an arrow misses its mark and falls short of its target (an ancient form of an “airball” in basketball). About 400 years after Aristotle, the word finds its way into the books and letters of the New Testament, also written in Greek. English translations of the Bible translate hamartia as the word “sin.” And like a basketball feels heavy to a child who can’t even make it reach the rim, sin is a heavy word.

Hamartia can be both individual and collective. A woman in a church I pastored shared with me one time that she was the “sinner of her family.” She grew up in a church-going, 1950s, pure-as-the-driven-snow environment, but she was the black sheep who transgressed the boundaries. In other words, she had sex before marriage and a child out of wedlock.

She felt like the worst person in the world because the people she loved the most defined her by a decision she made in her youth. It’s as if she wore a scarlet letter to all family functions, and the word sin became a soul crushing word that made her wince whenever she heard it in a sermon (despite her family’s disappointment, she was a regular church attender all of her life).

Collective hamartia is a description of the human condition. We live in a fallen world of conflict, turmoil, and an uncertain future, and we all play a role in the drama. Yes, our world leaders influence global conditions far more than the common person, but we all share collective responsibility more than we would like to admit— as voters, as citizens, and as “actors” in our everyday lives.

If you feel like the sinner of your family, or if in your most reflective moments you feel heavy guilt and wonder if there is hope for your spiritual life, the biblical meaning of hamartia might be helpful here. In the same way, an understanding of collective hamartia and its role in our society might also be the spark that gives hope to our galaxy.

In Aristotle’s definition of a tragedy, and in the Bible, the tragically flawed character is not the worst person in the story. Think about it— Emperor Palpatine is the evil, Satan-like presence in the first six Star Wars films. Compared to the Emperor, Darth Vader is a sympathetic character. In fact, we feel pity for Darth Vader throughout the series, because he is a man who was deceived and manipulated by Palpatine. Even in his rage and hatred for rebels, Darth Vader loves his children. He protects them from the Emperor, and in that climactic moment in The Return of the Jedi, he turns to the Light and throws Emperor Palpatine into a reactor to save his son. The conflict within Kylo Ren is just as pronounced, and we feel pity for him compared to the absolute evil of Supreme Leader Snoke.

I’m going to guess you’ve never murdered an entire village with a lightsaber, so you’re no Darth Vader or Kylo Ren, let alone the Emperor or Snoke. Maybe you transgressed the moral boundaries of your family or your church. Like every human being alive, you have not always acted in love toward your fellow humans. You’ve made mistakes, just like I have, and just like every other person. Those flaws and choices are damaging. They are serious, and they do have consequences. However, the tragic flaw does not mean that you are irredeemable or a hopeless case.

Similarly, the collective hamartia of our world is an outgrowth of individuals missing the mark, the cumulative brokenness of all of us throwing up moral and spiritual airballs. If individual hamartia does not make one an irredeemable monster, then collective hamartia does not damn our world to repeat the same needless conflicts that create the same absurd misery for so many.

An understanding of hamartia insists our world is not a hopeless case. In The Last Jedi, while Luke Skywalker has resigned himself to Kylo Ren’s turn to the Dark Side, Rey protests his fatalism by saying, “His choice is not made. He can be turned.” Regardless of how Kylo turns out, perhaps we as a people are not doomed to wallow in a cyclical view of history that expects a return to fascism every few generations.

The New Testament author who is most known for his use of the word hamartia is Paul. He observes both the individual and collective definition of hamartia. In Romans 3:23 he argues that “all have sinned (hamartia)” and in Romans 5 that the consequences affect all people collectively because of it.

Paul experienced personal redemption. According to the New Testament accounts, prior to his conversion he presided over the arrest and even murder of Christians he persecuted. Hamartia does not mean you have to wear a scarlet letter to family functions or view yourself as an evil character God cannot stomach. You are not the devil. Sometimes even Lebron James tosses up an airball, and the hamartia in your life means that you’re human in need of God’s grace.

In the same way, the human race is not evil incarnate either. Our future is not decided. Our choice is not made. World history can be turned. From a Christian perspective, Paul insists that Jesus Christ’s “righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people,” and that gives us a continual hope that things can made better[i]

Basketball players can increase their field goal percentage. Darth Vader can turn to the Light. Kylo Ren might too— we’ll see. Like the once-controversial The Empire Strikes Back, eventually most Star Wars fans will probably approve of The Last Jedi (there is even hope for flawed movies). In an atmosphere of forgiveness, grace, and resulting self-acceptance, we as individuals can learn to make better choices over time, and we are redeemed, both personally and collectively.

So, as we enter the New Year, here’s to holding out hope for all of us. Hamartia is a tragic flaw in otherwise decent people, and together we can write our comeback story. Yes, our world condition is serious… and for a Christian that is exactly what makes the Good News such great news, in fact. It is the great news that redemption is possible for even the most flawed of characters. It’s even greater news that redemption is available to all of us together, and consequently, there is hope for our world.

[i] Romans5:18b

Younger Generations Uninterested in Organized Religion Not Missing Out

by Greg Gonzales

Never did I think I’d find God on the internet, but I did toward the end of December 2017. On Radio Garden, a radio station streaming service, I found a Dubai station called Ananaz that played awesome song after awesome song that I’d never heard before — I learned Paul Mauriat covered the “Godfather” theme and that a band called Banda Do Sul covered “Evacuate the Dance Floor.” Each song I learned about helped me branch out to discover more artists, more songs, and to fill my playlists for my own radio show. Those connections, that branching out, is one way I experience God; rather than a being, it’s the process of being, of participating in the world, of moving forward and bursting forth into the future as an effect of an infinite preceding cause, part of the nonstop cosmic evolution. To many, that kind of spirituality is nothing more than hippie-dippie hocus-pocus, but it’s central to my mode of living.

Turns out I’m not alone. A third of Millennials surveyed by Pew Research Center said they don’t affiliate with a religion, but two-thirds of that third said they still believe in a God, or some sort of universal spirit. Adults 18 to 25 apparently aren’t fans of traditional congregations, and I’m one of them. Though I grew up in a Disciples of Christ church, I never have liked the way a service comes off like a performance, or the way some people use church like a way to wash themselves of their wrongdoings. I appreciate the divinity in music, community, and ancient texts, but I don’t feel a need to have all those things bundled for me. I get all of those things in my daily life, through my volunteer work at the radio station, through sharing my homemade wine with friends and family, and by exploring the works of every philosopher from Ancient Greece to post-modern France. For me, choosing non-religious spirituality means not expecting anyone to curate these things for me, and more freedom to explore when I feel inspired (it’s not really acceptable to pull out my phone during the sermon to follow up on a Bible verse, for example).

That’s not the only reason my age group is turning away from organized religion. Some of them are indeed atheists. But the main reasons have more to do with feeling left out of the picture. We feel left out of traditional institutions, but find the same love and divine presence when we get in touch with our bodies at the gym or in yoga, when we join strangers at dinner or in support groups to share honestly our griefs and joys, or get to know our own minds through meditation — we get to become something larger than ourselves without the guidebook. We get to write our own books.

And isn’t the point of that word, gospel, is that it means good news? Those pages have some dust for good news. Though I don’t believe in magical miracles, I do believe in miracles of great fortune, of divine experience, and unconditional love — and those miracles happen every day. As we connect to each other, as we listen to each other’s stories and use those lessons to grow, we gather our own “good news.” Perhaps the only reason the Judeo-Christian traditions are so important still is because the people who lived out those stories bothered to write them down. This generation, and the generations who inspired us, have new gospels to write for a new era.

Dark Nights: The Spiritual Promise of Grief Work

by MK LeFevour

Editors note: Southwest Folklife Alliance, an affiliate of the University of Arizona, recently interviewed Mary Kay LeFevour. She has graciously shared her words from the interview with us.

Grief work is very spiritual work. How do you spiritually survive losing a beloved? It’s the family members that are left after a death. Trust is the biggest thing that gets jettisoned. There’s the primary loss, of course. But the secondary loss can be a trust in the universe, God, the idea that life is beneficent.

So all those wonderful questions of spiritual inquiry come forward: Who am I now? Who is God? What’s my meaning in life? You’re now swimming in unchartered territory. For a lot of people this is the first time they’re having an existential crisis. You are in the dark night of the soul.

I’ve always loved dark. What’s wrong with the dark? As a Taoist and Buddhist, I know you can’t have one without the other. We are a society in America that denies death and denies grief. When someone experiences a death, society says, “Get over it. Just start consuming, start eating, buy something, find someone new.”

But this place of despair is a great cauldron to bubble in, to find your essential self. This is the time when I feel people are the most open to wisdom or beauty or reconnecting. They have to reinvent themselves. Some call it “post-traumatic growth.” It’s an opportunity for growth, for differentiation, for resilience, to become more of who you are or who you were. Because you have to.

Of course you don’t say any of this to the bereaved. You don’t say it’s all going to be okay, when they’re thinking, I’m lonely and I hate my life and what am I going to do? I just go, Yeah that sucks.

I might quote Victor Frankl, who wrote Man’s Search for Meaning, who says we are happier humans when we have meaning. It doesn’t matter what the meaning is, whatever it is you have to create it. Some don’t like that because they believe there is one meaning and that they have to find it.

The trick is to let them swim in the despair or sink into the quicksand and hold that space. Sometimes you have to just let them sit in there. You can’t fix it. You can hold a branch, maybe, but people have to move through it. I just hold the grief and I don’t do anything but hold the grief.

I saw a guy this morning—77 years old, just lost his wife of 50 years. He said, “I’m okay.” He’s been grieving for almost a year. And he did sound pretty good. “I’m okay because I’ve got lots of stuff to do, he said. But it’s hardest at night, when I’m alone.”

People say the nighttime is the worst, the evening. It’s the time of intimacy, snuggling, having dinner, watching TV. That’s when you feel absence. Insomnia is most common presenting grief symptom. So night becomes the enemy, because we make it the enemy instead of the friend.

But mammals, when they’re hurt, find a dark cave and lick their wounds. It’s natural for us to want to go into a cave—it’s dark, we don’t want external stimuli. Bereavement work is not about giving people a spiritual bypass with distractions. They get that from friends and family. I’m the one person who lets them wallow. This is the tax we pay for being human.

Grief isn’t good or bad. It is a human thing. Loss begins from the time we’re born. We lose this cozy place in the womb. Loss is inherent to our life as humans. My feeling is if you can’t avoid it, then what can you do with it?

Grief takes away your artifice, every shred of dignity you’ve had and makes you this mass of vulnerability and also someone who’s open to a different way of living, one that makes sense. That’s what’s exciting to me about it. I get to be at somebody’s birth. You’ve lost and you have to be reborn. I feel like a midwife in that respect and it’s such an honor.

Sometimes you’re just hoping people don’t commit suicide before they get through the dark night. You hope and you hold and that’s all you can do. I don’t even have faith. I have knowing on my side. I’ve seen people go from being barely able to crawl into the room to having a full life again. I see it again and again. I can sit with you in the not knowing. I don’t know if you’re going to make it but I have seen the most desperate people make it.

Rather than resist, through denial, the very thing that’s going to happen–which is that we’re going to die and we are going to lose things we love along the way and we are going to lose parts of ourselves–we can reclaim the night. We may never be able to embrace it wholeheartedly, but we can aim for it. We distract ourselves so we don’t have to pay attention to grief, mortality, death. And then we are unprepared when they come for us.

Many cultures have mourning ritutals–wearing the arm band, the day of the dead, putting a stone on the tombstone, sitting Shiva. The ritual of mourning. But there are so many ways in which we no longer participate in the night. We look at is as something to get through, instead of something to enfold ourselves in.

Again, I’m not going to tell you this when you’re in the quicksand. I’m just going to hold you and tell you it’s okay to feel everything that you feel–angry, abandoned, miserable. All of that is welcome here. That’s what people need–a steady presence that radiates the idea that this is a cycle. This is a cycle. Life is a cycle. It’s going to be a roller coaster, but all things arise, develop, and fall away. All things. There’s no one thing in nature that doesn’t. And grief is that way. Because grief is part of nature.