Aj Schwanz

Again, crossposting a review for my Seminary class.  Thought it could stand some good ol’ Friendly input. 

When “Professor” Clark alluded to the fact that some of us were going off-roading with our elective reading choices, I think a bright flashing neon sign lit up above my head.  :) 

After reading about liturgy and fighting commodification through liturgy, I thought it would be beneficial to explore the core elements of worship and its manifestations within differing traditions.  For the past few weeks I’ve been sitting with Evelyn Underhill’s book “Worship”.  I say that I’ve been sitting with it because, at least for this sleep-deprived reader, it’s not a quick read.  Underhill’s most known work “Mysticism” explores the wider topic of communion/experience/”yadah” with God; this follow-up looks at some more practical ways individuals and groups experience this.  Divided into two parts, the book first details the purpose and the elements of worship and then explores these principles and values in specific denominational expressions. 

“Worship is here considered in its deepest sense, as the response of man to the Eternal; and when we look at the many degrees and forms of this response, and the graded character of human religion, its slow ascent from primitive levels and tendency to carry with it the relics of the past, we need not be surprised that even within the Christian family there is much diversity in the expressive worship which is yet directed towards a single revelation of the Divine” (xxi).  This statement contains elements of the sentiment of Luke Bretherton’s picture of Deep Church drawing from the same well of tradition as well as Andrew Walker’s thoughts on Deep Church and paradosis:  “What is new about this retrieval is that it is a quest for something old, and its modus operandi is not a technique, but a turning back (epistrophe)” (50). 

While looking at the fundamental characteristics of worship, Underhill often details the extremes manifesting from the response to Reality (most often comparing the Anglican church and the Quaker meetings) sharing the strengths and weaknesses of each expression.  For example:  “Habit tends to routine and spiritual red-tape; the vice of the institutionalist.  Attention is apt to care for nothing but the experience of the moment and ignor the need of a stable practice, independent of personal fluctuations; the vice of the individualist.  Habit is a ritualist.  Attention is a pietist.  But it is the beautiful combination of order and spontaneity, docility and freedom, living humbly - and therefore fully and freely - within the agreed pattern of the cultus and not in defiance of it, which is the mark of genuine spiritual maturity and indeed the fine flower of a worshipping life” (22).  This almost reminded me of the characteristics of the modern (ritualist) and post-modern (pietist) movements.  As she moves on to describe early Christian worship, she notes that the earliest form of Charismatic expression was taken on by Hellenistic Christians who moved away from the Jewish models (180).  This seems similar to the modern/postmodern movement as well where the postmodern group is trying to follow a new expression of worship that seems so dissimilar to the previous standard.

Underhill gives some details not only about current worship, but the history of worship starting with the Hebrews and moving to the early church and the denominational splits.  Interestingly she noted in Jewish life that “it was surrounded by a number of small ritual observances; which can easily be dismissed as formal or superstitious, but were really directed - like the small external pieties of the ‘good Catholic’ - to the sanctifying of all the common events of everyday life, by a constant and humble remembrance of the claims of the Eternal God and His Law” (156).  Sounds a little bit like Bretherton’s “mundane holiness” to me where “in our day Christian disciplines and practices must act as antidotes to the attempt to shape our personhood through consumerism, technology, and the myriads to Pasnopticanlike institutions of the corporation state” (244). 

I spent more time looking at Underhill’s evaluation of Quaker/Free Churches than the other denominations because this is the tradition I come from.  I have been a bit disheartened reading “Consuming Religion” with Miller’s thesis that liturgy fights commodification of religion.  One of the main characteristics of the Friends is the lack of symbol/ritual/liturgy of the high church.  In the preface to George Fox’s “Journal”, William Penn notes, “The bent and stress of their ministry was conversion to God, regeneration and holiness, not schemes of doctrines and verbal creeds or new forms of worship, but a leaving off in religion the superfluous and reducing the ceremonious and formal part, and pressing earnestly the substantial, the necessary and profitable part, as all upon a serious reflection must and do acknowledge.”  After hearing this most of my life, it’s easy for me to assume that Quakers are anti-ligurgy.  Miller quotes Terrance Tilley:  “The significance or meaning of the doctrine of the Real Presence can be paraphrased or summarized theologically, but it cannot be fully understood except when it is connected with the ritual practices of the community that holds the doctrine” (202).  Tilley was speaking of the Eucharist, but his reference to the “Real Presence” seems to mesh with some of Underhill’s thoughts:  “It points past all signs and symbols to the Invisible Holy, trusts the immanent presence with men of the Invisible Holy, and perpetually reminds us of the awe and humility, the pause, the hush, the deliberate break with succession, with which man should approach the great experience of communion with teh living God:  ‘not hurrying into the exercise of these things, so soon as teh bell rings, as other Christians do’” (237).  Perhaps there’s more liturgy involved than I had previously thought, but it simply looks different.  But what does that look like today within the differing branches of Quakerism with some being evangelical and some not, some being programmed and some not? 

I’m uncertain as to what to do with this book.  It seems very black and white, all or nothing.  Underhill describes strengths and weaknesses, but it’s either the best of the strengths or the worst of the weaknesses - not a lot of inbetween or what happens with the introduction of shallow bricolage.  It reminds me of the difference between analyzing something in the lab under ideal conditions versus using it in the real world with unknown variables.  Her explanations of symbols and sacraments were incredibly helpful (they are a means of God sharing Truth with us).  I greatly appreciated the pointing out of similarities of truth and purpose and principles within the traditions:  she detailed the similarities without making them the “same” - showing the beauty of each characteristic or expression, like a family portrait.  Perhaps as I chat with others we can take some time to gaze deeper at our latest family pictures - the good and the bad, the modern and the postmodern, the institutional and the emerging, and see the beauty of each grandparent and parent and child and wait in anticipation of the generations to come.

A while back C. Wess asked me a question about why in the world I listen to Mark Driscoll’s podcast.  Honestly, I don’t know, but something inside resonates with what he says, although I often bristle at the presentation.  Perhaps I sense the truth behind his words, looking beyond the stuff I don’t agree with which often seems to be spoken out of a place of brokenness.

Yeah, that’s a totally girly answer.

I haven’t listened to last week’s teaching, but reading Bob Hyatt’s post has me actually looking forward to my 2:30am wake up call so I can pop in my “ears” and take a listen.

However, words are one thing; attitude and actions are another.  I am eager to see how this “confession & repentance” manifests itself both in the pastor and the congregation, particularly in regards to the women I’ve connected with who have felt squashdicated in following their calls.

Goodness does.

I like books. I like books on interesting topics - cooking, parenting, ecclesiology (as opposed to my dad who has books on chaos theory, chess strategy, and the penguin history of the world, and yes: he’s read them all). And I *really* like books on interesting topics that I get for free, so it was a banner day when I opened up my mailbox to find a copy of “It’s a Dance: Moving with the Holy Spirit” by Patrick Oden.

“It’s a Dance” takes a look at the daily life workings of the Holy Spirit through fictional discussions of a newspaper reporter and an a-typical faith community functioning out of a pub. Luke, a jaded journalist, interviews Nate, the “pastor/bartender,” about his nontraditional approach to church. As Nate gives the background of the community, as well as introducing Luke to various members, the discussion weaves functionality with spirituality, exploring the form their faith expressions take as well as the inner workings of God, the Son, and the Spirit that’s been sent to believers.

The book hits a lot of “buzz word” topics floating around the blogosphere and beyond:

• What does it mean to be missional?
• What does it mean to be incarnational?
• What does it mean to welcome the stranger?
• How and why do we worship creatively?
• Is there a boundary between the sacred and the secular?

But due to the conversational nature of the writing the book never takes on a “textbook” feel. As the characters share their lives and experiences, they also share the reasonings and theology behind their actions. Considering much of the “emerging church conversation” is supposed to be, you know, a *conversation*, this book seems to be an appropriate way to convey the thoughts, ideas, and inner leadings of this current movement.

I greatly enjoyed the emphasis on the movings of the Holy Spirit. The evangelical movement (at least certain streams) seems comfortable with dicussions about God and Jesus, but the Holy Spirit seems a little . . . impish: something we don’t really see that seems a little tricky. And while the emerging conversation has discussed a great deal of the implications of being missional/incarnational, not a lot of emphasis has been given to the promptings which move folks to live that out: that of the Spirit. Instead of getting into a lot of eccesiological/eschatological/insert another word that they use in Seminary that makes lay people go “enh?” stuff, Oden uses the characters to share and show how the Spirit is inclined to move and act in the day-to-day. Practical. Tangible. Helpful.

My only minor complaints, totally coming from my snobby writing/lit background:

• I had a hard time differentiating between speakers (their voices sounded very similar).
• I could use more plot/action, which I know wasn’t the point, but if it’s going to be fictional, a little more movement has got to happen to keep mothers-of-fourth-month-old-yowlers alert.
• Nobody talks that eloquently. Correction: I’m jealous because I can’t articulate my faith and theology that well (ah, blessed sleep deprivation: I’m lucky if I can remember what name goes with which creature I’m currently ministering to).

“It’s a Dance” is hitting the streets November 1st. I suggest you take it out for a spin on the dance floor: it likes the night life; it likes to boogie.

You know how much fun it is when women get together: to engage in quality worship, to participate in relevant discussions, the share their journeys and listen to the journeys of other, and to eat yummy food?

It’s *SO* much fun!

This coming Saturday Northwest Emerging Women Leaders are hosting “Convergence @ Fox“:

Come and engage with other emerging women leaders as we explore our questions together! We will be sharing an afternoon of conversation and connection at the George Fox Seminary campus near Tigard, Oregon. As women shaping the church of the future, we desire to share our journey with others and actively engage the questions that our lives, experiences, and observations raise for us.

You may think: um, that’s two days away, and it’s too late. But it’s NOT! You can still register (and you can still show up Saturday, but food stuffs may not be as adequately planned for).

You may think: enh - that’s sounds too girly/touchy/feely. Actually, the resounding comments have been: “Wow: that’s was so NOT girly/touchy/feely.” I mean, you know me: I have yet to attend a Mother/Daughter tea with my mom (poor Mama: I’m sorry). I swear: we won’t make you wear pink or talk about the gloriousness of “managing the household” (although maybe I should attend an event with that emphasis, come to think of it :)).

You may think: eek - I don’t know you people, and that’s a little uncomfortable. Come. Get to know. These are the most amazing women who are actively seeking God’s will for them and their means to live that out.

Come play! Plus, the cutest little leprechaun will be there, and I’ll be bringing baked goods. Enough said.

Last week there was a flurry in the emerging conversation blogs regarding, as Bob so eloquently puts it, Battle of the Mars Hills. Basically one pastor, whose podcast I listen to, called another pastor, whose podcast I listen to, not so biblically-based. Which, since I hear adult conversation more from these folks that I do in my unplugged life, is somewhat hard for a personality type that desires peaceful relations at all times. It’s sort of like two big brothers aren’t getting along, or one big brother is talking smack about the other, and I just want to bake cookies for everyone to make them happy and agreeable. Because nothing makes people happy and agreeable like Giant Ginger Cookies.

While working on a Beth Moore lesson from my Women’s Bible Fellowship study, I came across an interesting section that seemed to apply to this situation as well as my daily life. The study is on the Fruit of the Spirit: Living Beyond Ourselves. In week two she’s looking at what it means to live by the spirit. This chapter focused on what it means to be spiritually mature. She outlines three types of folks: the natural man (without the Spirit), the carnal man (have accepted the Spirit but have not been transformed), and the spiritual man.

“Finally, let’s look at the third type of person. The Apostle Paul calls this person the spiritual man. First Corinthians 2:15 tells us that “the spiritual man makes judgments about all things.” The Greek word is anakrino, and it means “to discern, judge, to examine accurately or carefully.” What are the things we are to discern or judge? Look back at 2:14: “the things that come from the Spirit.” The spiritual man does not judge people. He or she judges “things.” Very specifically, those “things that come from the Spirit.”

No wonder Galatians 6:1 says only those “who are spiritual” should restore one who has fallen. Only a spiritual person could judge the situation without judging the sinner [emphasis mine]. Go back and review the passage. God even warns that the spiritual individual must restore very carefully and soberly, “or you also may be tempted.”! The spiritual man is constantly aware of the fine line which separates him from the carnal man — a moment’s hestitation.”

I found that interesting, and incredibly challenging. What does that look like? I know I judge people, i.e. live out of the Spirit: so what would it look like to judge things rather than people? How am I called to posture myself so that the Spirit may change that carnalness in me?

Does this resonate with you? Have you experienced this in your life? I’m curious to hear experiences: helps me put things into better context and to contend better with the anxty relationships.

Lately I’ve been getting an energy spurt around 9:30 at night. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, except that I end up falling asleep at 11:30, have one at-least-twenty-minute night feeding, have one toddler-waking incident, and end up getting up after the first morning feeding which is usually around 6:30. Which, again, wouldn’t be a bad thing, except that I have Turbo Tot and Attention-Adoring Infant to manage all day. It makes for some interesting brain functions (or lack thereof).

Last night during the spurt, I decided to start organizing - something I do when feeling listless or out of control in areas of my life. So I tackled Abel’s room, weeding out clothes and baby items he’s not going to use (like the piles and piles of burp rags I had saved from when his brother was little - it’s so nice not to have a yarfer), but then I was getting bored. Lo and behold, a thought entered my mind. “Wait! I could listen to that Graham Cooke talk on my ipod. But I’ve listened to it a lot lately. But wait! I could find something else to listen to . . . like a podcast. What a novel idea.”

See, my brother got me an ipod for Christmas because a) he loves me, 2) he knew I’m too cheap to buy one, and iii) he’s a big spender (when you have a gift). And I’ve used it here and there, occasionally on walks, but mostly Jason uses it while he’s mowing the lawn. Most of the time I have to have my ears on full alert lest someone start playing baseball naked after turning on the outside faucet. Oh wait . . .

I went online to download Rob Bell’s sermons - I’ve enjoyed them in the past and heard they were doing a “God is Green” series. Then I noticed the handy “people who download this listen to this as well” box, and oh how the clicking began. The most enjoyable podcasts I’ve found so far happen to be Alan Roxburgh on Allelon. As I weeded through clothes and toys, I got to hear stories about mission-shaped churches and church/coffeehouses and the world-wide emerging church rather than U.S. centered. How delightful to engage another part of my brain that is usually focused on tallying grocery needs and mentally calculating how many minutes of freedom left until the next feeding.

So, are you listening to podcasts? What are some of your picks? I’d love to add them to my subscriptions: I’m such an “ooh, something new!” junkie.

A couple months ago a wonderful friend and advocate got for me a great gift: an autographed copy of Dan Kimball’s They Like Jesus, but Not the Church. And my wonderful advocate told him that I’m a writer (or at least doing a good job pretending to be one), and Dan actually knew that I had a blog. Totally made my day!

My experience of reading the book wasn’t mind blowing but rather, “this friend speaks my mind!” I greatly appreciated him detailing the stories of those who were willing to share experiences that honestly reflected modern churchdom. I became more aware of wanting to seek those folks out: the folks who dig Jesus but question the way the church is lived out.

So the other night as my Hubby and I are getting ready for bed, he mentioned that he needed a new book to read. Being his personal librarian, I wracked my sleep-deprived brain for a good recommendation, and Dan’s book came to mind. I don’t normally recommend my emerging-quaking-churching-books to Jason, not because he’s not into that, but he generally seems to appreciate hearing my rundown rather than reading it himself (and I appreciate hearing his rundown of the status of the Red Sox or the latest Mozilla creation rather than reading it myself). But he seems to be enjoying it, and it’s stimulating some conversation rather than “did you water the lawn” and “your turn to walk with the Yowler.”

Dan Kimball’s book is the being reviewed and discussed this month at Barclay Press. I’d highly suggest you tune in: should be some good conversation. Who knows: you may even hear from my hubby.

So Convergence is coming up this weekend.¬† I’m excited and want to get going!¬† And I’m tired and want to crawl in bed!¬† It’s hard being a hormonal female, isn’t it?¬†
At times like these I always do battle with my idealistic dreams versus the realistic expectations.  When dreaming about this gathering a couple of months ago, it sounded so easy and simple:  provide space for women to gather and share.  No speakers to schedule:  our stories and passions will be the main topic.  No conference center issues:  just provide registration online and leave booking of rooms up to individuals.

But then came the questions.¬† Which came faster than I can idealistically respond to.¬† Somehow the demands of being a wife and mother of a whirling dervish, a.k.a. my toddler, and facilitating a bible study and dealing with the whole “ten weeks of holidays” (I swear it starts before Halloween) encroached in my time to calmly and rationally be proactive in helping plan the event.

And then came the details with registration:¬† folks who couldn’t get the registration to work, folks who needed to cancel, funky technical issues, not being able to transfer money from the Paypal account to the real bank account (somehow virtual money doesn’t get you far in this world).¬† Details:¬† nitty gritty details.¬† Not idealistic planning and dreaming and saying, “Make this happen” - but actually having to make it happen.¬† That makes me all squirmy.

Just recently we found out about more details.  In our initial talks with the hosts of the place where we are gathering, we figured out a (what we felt) very reasonable registration cost - trying to keep it as low as possible so that folks from all walks would be able to attend.  But details:  oh, details.  Like additional costs for using equipment.  Food prices fluctuating.  The most recent:  a lovely, not-previously-mentioned, decent-sized gratuity percentage tacked onto the food costs.  Oy.

Everything’s still a go.¬† But it’s tight:¬† like having-finished-Thanksgiving-dinner-and-forgetting-to-wear-your-stretchy-pants tight.¬† In light of that, we’ve created a way for folks to make a donation online:¬† even a small contribution would give us some more elastic, helping the facilitators focus more on the events of the weekend rather than the monetary elements.

I know once I get there and everything’s in full swing, I’ll really be digging it.¬† I’m *really* excited for that time.¬† Until then, you’ll find me in the stretch jeans isle, muttering things about gratuity might be given more gratefully if known about ahead of time and does this *really* fall under the whole “God loves a cheerful giver” umbrella? . . .

Last February I was lucky enough to get to participate in the Emergent Theological Conversation on the East Coast.  During that time I connected with a number of fantastic women who had some amazing stories to tell:  stories that were exciting (about how God was moving in their community) and stories that were, frankly, sad (about how people were not supportive of their compassions and callings).  But it was a quick conference, with little time to figure out where to go from there - how are we called to support each other as women in ministry?

I connected with a few women from my area, and we’ve been meeting regularly to plan a space, a space to Converge - with our stories, our journeys, our leadings, our art, our talent, our dreams, our worship.¬† And so January 26th-28th a group of women will be gathering at Edgefield Manor in Troutdale, OR to do just that.¬† It’s called Convergence because we hope that the women will bring elements of their selves to the time, rather than simply consuming a message from a speaker.¬† (And, no, Convergent Quakers, I had nothing to do with the name, although I did giggle a lot when it was decided upon).

You wanna come?¬† I’m going:¬† you know you wanna.¬† It’s affordable; it’s at a supercool location; it’s with rockin’ women; it’s time and space to converse and reflect - sweet!
Some folks might say, “But I’m not a member of an emerging church!”¬† Well, neither am I.¬† But some of the ways I feel called towards moving in ministry don’t necessarily fit into the typical traditional church box.

Others might say, “But I’m not a leader!”¬† Enh:¬† I don’t buy that.¬† We all lead in our own spheres of influence, and no matter if it’s on a national level or a superduper local level, it’s leading all the same.¬† It might not look like a pastor/teacher, but you know what?¬† There’s a couple of other job descriptions that the Bible lists out, and leading is going to look different in each realm.
And then there’s the “But I don’t have anything to offer!”¬† Have you lived life?¬† Do you have a life story to tell?¬† Do you interact with people?¬† Do you want to worship God in your current place in life?¬† Do you want to follow Christ?¬† You have something to offer.

If you have any questions, feel free to drop me an email.  Or better yet, just register, and then we can chat sometime.  You know you wanna. 

It’s afternoon-time:¬† my little Mover & Shaker is down for a nap, and while I’d like to avoid working on my Yearly Meeting workshops by reading a Fluff Book or watching the E! True Hollywood Story on Desperate Housewives, I couldn’t handle the restless tension anymore - must. sit. think. write. prepare.¬† (underlying motivation:¬† must. not. look. like. boob. when. facilitating. workshop.).

And while I feel somewhat saturated with thoughts and experiences, of both mine and others, the white canvas of NeoOffice seemed very threatening and overwhelming.¬† Sometimes I just need a little distraction, so while compiling notecards (just like my 11A teacher taught me to do when working on a project:¬† she’d be so proud:¬† I’m such an English geek), I listened to an Emergent podcast of Tony Jones and Doug Pagitt (who has a few blogs:¬† what is it my dad says?¬† Gross excess is only half enough?¬† ) sitting at Chipotle talking about Emergent ’stuff’.¬† I’m not so surprised about the location:¬† I mean, how can one talk about our response to God’s callings in present day culture without a quality amount of guac present?¬†
At two points Tony and Doug talk about their experience as authors:¬† as folks receive the writings, many have looked beyond the words to the authors, somewhat ‘dehumanizing’ them to be a concept or an idea rather than a person.¬† It reminded me of my weekend.

This weekend I had the chance to meet some a) fellow Quakers and 2) fellow bloggers.¬† A little over a year ago I began a ‘real blog’ - a place to share non-Mama thoughts (or at least not go into the graphic details of how much my infant son yarfed that day) and to connect with other Quakers.¬† And honestly, at that time, I was thinking solely of Christ-centered, evangelical Quakers:¬† you know, people just like me!

And I did connect with people like me, but they didn’t look how I expected.¬† In fact, the folks I’ve engaged in the best discussions with on how to respond to the calling of the Spirit have been folks coming from non-evangelical Quaker backgrounds.¬† It’s so easy to group people:¬† folks from FGC are like this, folks from EFI are like this.¬† And yet, that’s so truly dehumanizing.¬† Only when we come into true relationship and conversation with each other can we see each other as God intended:¬† God’s blessed creations.

So thanks, convergent f/Friends for sharing of yourselves.¬† I’m so glad to have met *you*:¬† not an idea or a thought or a generalization of you, but the real you.¬† Blessings to you all in the continued journey.

Ps.¬† Gregg, while you blogged your picture sooner than I did, Jason had this one up on Flickr that evening.¬† I think I win:¬† you decide the prize (one year without being called out during service?¬† A Judah-free night?¬† Sugar-free Moose Tracks ice cream?¬† All-expenses paid trip to the next ETC?¬† I’m easy).¬†