Hungering

An Inkling

From time to time someone will ask me about fasting.  “Why fast?  And if so, how?”  With Lent commencing this week, fasting comes to mind.

It’s strange that fasting is strange.  Fasting was both assumed and common through most centuries of the church’s life.  Now it is neither.  What is common is the assumption that desires are to be satisfied immediately, and the expectation that every meal should be a feast.  Few of history’s kings feasted as sumptuously as we dine daily.  And yet our prompt and plentiful platters have not fully satisfied our hungers.  Thus the questions about fasting.  And thus the attention Jesus gave to the Old Testament wisdom that “one does not live by bread alone.”

Fasting is a means of giving attention to a deeper hunger by shunning the satisfaction of a lesser hunger.  It is that deeper hunger which engages us more intently in our prayer conversations with God.  However it is that body and soul are wired together, the satisfaction of physical hunger often quells spiritual hunger as well.  Conversely, shunning physical hunger for a season serves to enhance spiritual hunger in ways that earnest efforts alone cannot.

How does one fast?  Begin by asking your doctor if it is safe for you.  If so, then start small.  Skip lunch and pray once a week.  Then build from there.  Try a day long fast (not from liquids!) and use some of that mealtime for additional prayer.  See what you learn.  And fill out your learnings by studying some master writers on such things.  I suggest Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline or Dallas Willard’s Spirit of the Disciplines.

We are entering the season of Lent, a time when Christians have traditionally given extra attention to various spiritual disciplines which posture us in readiness for God’s transforming work in our lives.  Fasting is just such a discipline, and the feasting of Easter is well-prepared thereby!

Hungering for something more,

Keith

The Master's Calendar

An Inkling

Do you remember the “Oracle of Delphi”?  Here’s how it worked:  a priestess sat on a tripod seat over a fissure which emitted vapors from deep within the earth.  As she breathed the vapors she would fall into a trance, and would ramble and rave.  Priests would record her words and then convert them into poetry, which would then be given as oracles to the inquirers.

Our oracles work differently.  Barometers, thermometers, and high altitude wind gauges breathe the vapors and then speak forth data, which “priestly” computers convert into weather prediction oracles.  I doubt that the Delphi Oracle hit it right very often.  But the local weather oracles have been amazingly accurate, especially considering the complicated weather systems that have been blowing through.

I wish they had been wrong!  But because they have been right about snow over and over (and over and over), we’ve had to adapt our church and personal calendars over and over and….  We’re long past Plan B, and on to at least Plan E or F by now. 

As I was mulling over this week’s weather oracles and a possible Plan F, I thought of James’ little reminder (4:13-15, from The Message):  And now I have a word for you who brashly announce, “Today—at the latest, tomorrow—we’re off to such and such a city for the year. We’re going to start a business and make a lot of money.”  You don’t know the first thing about tomorrow. You’re nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing.  Instead, make it a habit to say, “If the Master wills it and we’re still alive, we’ll do this or that.”

The weather oracle helps us make a Plan F.  But Plan F will happen only if the Master wills it.  So, whether or not the weather oracle is right and Plan F actually happens, is truly secondary.  I’ll take the Master’s certainty over mine any day.

Blessings,

Keith

Snow Daze

An Inkling

Wow – 10 to 14 inches of snow last weekend, and more predicted for next weekend!  Maybe this will be one of those legendary winters we tell our grandchildren about.  And it looks like exaggeration won’t even be necessary.

We transcend so many of life’s finitude fences.  We leap over distances in cars and jets, over fatigue with stimulants, over time limits with multi-tasking, over language barriers with translation software, and over information obstacles with Google. 

But we don’t leap over snow.  A formidable finitude fence rises one tiny flake at a time.  It’s a fence we cannot leap – at least not in Richmond.  Our northern neighbors leap more readily, but even they are slowed down.

Once the snow “fence” has gone up, we all must decide:  should we stay within its confines or dig our way out?  For me, the decision was specified as, “should we have Sunday morning activities or not?”  After watching a jillion weather reports and talking with several folks, I decided we would go for a scaled back Sunday morning – 11 o’clock service only.  Later, as I watched the ticker of cancellations, I saw that we were one of only seven churches meeting for some sort of service.  So a few churches dug through, but the vast majority decided the better part of wisdom was to sit tight.

Digging through is exactly what we did.  John Korman organized several good guys to come and shovel paths.  I suspect his invitation was tempting as an escape from the cabin confines.  Then 63 adventuresome souls came for worship.  It was a delightful service.  We baptized Carter Schumacher, and the praise was especially sweet.  I guess there is something about the extra effort to come that prepares the heart.

What we’ll do next weekend, I don’t know.  Shoveling through the barrier was an adventure once.  Next time the feeling of adventure will be harder to come by.  Stay tuned.  If we’re canceling, we will again notify by multiple means.

You all have faced the same challenges this week as you’ve decided whether to dare digging out and going to work, school, etc.  However soon we venture forth, these snow days serve as one of God’s periodic reminders that our capacity to transcend life’s limits is always tentative.  Whether sitting tight or venturing forth, look to him.  He has gifts for you in the midst of these snow days snow daze.

Blessings,

Keith

Mirth

An Inkling

We’ve all been around someone who is slow to catch jokes.  While everyone else laughs, he or she looks around with puzzlement, or tee-hees nervously to keep from being obvious.  Such folks add to the delight of the moment, for when the humor finally penetrates their innocent sincerity, they typically laugh loudest of all – which multiplies the mirth.  The “Oh, I get it now” moment is often even funnier than the original amusement.

G.K. Chesterton wrote, “I’ve often thought that the gigantic secret of God is mirth.”  It’s a secret not because it is hidden, but because we don’t get it – which is funny in itself!  And we’re definitely not missing the punch-line because of an innocent sincerity.  It has more to do with taking ourselves too seriously, which inevitably veils us with grimness.

One of the gospel’s great gifts is the “Oh, I get it!” moment, when Jesus removes the veil.  Then we begin to see life as it really is – both tragic and funny, the latter spinning forth from this gigantic secret of the Master of Mirth.

And part of the joke is that the secret’s been in plain sight all along!  Look at the mirth in the creation around us.  For slapstick behold the platypus, porcupine, and skunk. For the farcical consider the arrogant Siamese cat or the ferocious Chihuahua.  Then for absurdity, check out the elephant and the donkey.  (And by the way, could there be any better symbols for political parties who take themselves ever so seriously?)

After laughing with creation, look to the center of the good news.  When humanity had soured God’s mirthful world, God’s response was to send his Son.  To Nazareth?  Are you kidding?  Picking twelve clowns as disciples?  What kind of slapstick is this?  Who alone brings salvation, and yet is rejected?  This comedy can be very dark.  Whose murder provides life?  Ha!  Who now conveys this great good news through the church?  Ha!  Ha!

Could it be that heaven’s mirth grows yet more gigantic when one of us who hasn’t gotten it finally does?  Indeed it does.  It’s not just “hallelujah” up there, but the profoundly silly children’s song, “Ha!  Ha!  Ha-llelujah!”

Get it?

Keith

Learning to Tell the Difference

An Inkling

Webster’s Dictionary defines “wisdom” as “accumulated philosophic or scientific learning; insight; and good sense.”  Good enough.  But what it all boils down to is the ability to tell the difference.  We make dozens of choices daily between good and evil, greater and lesser, and so on.  The trouble is, it’s not always easy to tell the difference.  That’s where we need wisdom.

For example, we need wisdom to tell the difference between:  feasting and glutting; greed and prudence; faith and credulity; rest and laziness; drive and driven-ness; luxury and necessity; frankness and brutality; gentle words and insincerity; righteous indignation and self-important rage; true patriotism and blind loyalty; political posturing and high ideals; the preservation of tradition and the fear of change; genuine tolerance and moral laxity; the call of God and the call of ambition; zeal and fanaticism; stubbornness and persistence; pride and self-respect; assertiveness and selfishness; hope and fantasy; indulgence and forgiveness; busyness and vocation; the enduring and the temporal; the valuable and the expensive; justice and charity; and paradox and contradiction. 

Wisdom is not the exclusive preserve of religious gurus or PhD’s.  It is a gift of God, available to all who follow Jesus.  Thus James boldly promises:  “If any of you is lacking in wisdom, ask God, who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and it will be given you.”  What greater gift could God give than a wisdom which can tell the difference? 

But unlike pudding, there are no instant versions.  Thus, with our wisdom always incomplete, we inevitably make mistakes.  But that’s okay, for God does not require that we be wise, just that we be wising up.  He is able to capture up even our foolish mistakes into his plan to teach us his kind of wisdom.  Our part is to be willing and attentive students. 

Wise up, O men of God,

Keith

You Had to Be There

An Inkling

Have you ever been telling someone about some hysterical event, only to realize in mid-telling it that it’s no longer funny?  Such realizations usually end with the explanation, “Well, I guess you had to be there.”

Context counts.  We understand that readily enough with humor.  The Aggie jokes they tell in Texas don’t elicit many laughs here in Virginia – unless you tell them as West Virginia jokes.

Context counts in worship too.  You can tell someone about a song you sung or a sermon you heard, but it usually leads to the same blank stare that greets a joke out of context.  You have to be there.  As wonderful as audio and video recordings are, they don’t even come close to capturing the reality of worship.

Why?  Hearing words is one thing.  But it’s another thing entirely to hear those words together with the people to whom you have been joined by God’s calling, and with whom you have shared much joy and sorrow.  Hearing music recorded in a service is one thing.  Experiencing such music with your partners in faith is another altogether. 

Besides, the most important element of worship cannot be recorded at all:  it is the presence of God.  He shows up for worship in ways that are never predictable, nor even fully describable.  But his presence is always life-giving.  Yes, God is present everywhere, but his presence becomes dynamic when the Spirit joins us in worship.

“Well, I guess you had to be there.”  We won’t try to explain last Sunday.  We’ll just invite you to join with us this Sunday! 

See you then!

Keith

Names and The Name

An Inkling

What a joy!  I had the privilege of baptizing my grandson on December 27.  That’s Hilton Robert Sherrard in the picture with me, freshly baptized.

Part of the baptismal ritual is the naming of the child.  I felt a bit silly asking Lindsay and Matt for Hilton’s name.  And yet it was important for them to speak his name, for it was about to be paired with The Name, and as the ones who had named Hilton, it was well that they named him then and there.

People choose names for lots of reasons – they like the sound, or they admire someone of the same name (either famous to all or familiar to the parents), or they value the meaning of a name.  Some choose family names.  So it is for Hilton Robert, his maternal grandmother’s family name, and his paternal grandfather’s given name.  I like that – he’s unique, yet rooted.

All of which is fine.  But his name is now all the richer with promise because it has been paired with The Name:  “Hilton Robert Sherrard, I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”  Far more important than family roots is a rootedness in the One who is his Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer. 

Sometimes we talk about someone “living up to his name.”  Hilton Robert Sherrard is a moniker worthy of such pursuit.  But it’s not enough to build a life around.  The Name is enough – more than enough.  Hilton’s identity and purpose will be found in the pairing of his name and The Name – along with the power to fill out his identity and pursue his purpose.  All of this and more was signified in just a few seconds in his baptism.  God does very big things in very simple ways.

How about your name?  How were you named?  What does it mean?  Whatever the meaning of your name, its pairing with The Name now gives a promise far greater than your parents could ever have imagined when they first dreamed up your name.

Here’s to Hilton,

Keith

Christmas Greetings from the Hills

Real News

An Inkling

When I was in ninth grade I was the Editor of our Jr. High newspaper, having worked my way up through the ranks as a reporter and photographer.  As I think back on it, I’m amazed that we were so ambitious – a weekly, 6-pager, printed on newsprint, complete with photos and ads.  I’m sure our sponsor, Mrs. Davis, was the driving force in its scope and success.  I know she was the driving force behind good grammar and accuracy – and that from a bunch of Jr. High students.  God bless her with a dozen stars in her crown for such boldness, and its undoubted “opportunities” for long-suffering! 

Would you venture to guess the most popular section?  It wasn’t even on newsprint – just a mimeographed sheet inserted in the “real” paper.  Neither was it carefully composed.  It consisted mostly of sentence fragments taken from a contribution box in the hall.  Its title was the “Gossip Page.”  Its hot “news” items were bits like:  “Guess who Tony’s got an eye for.  Rhonda wants to know.”  And “There’s a reason Tina looks mopey.  Ask Mike.”  No last names, mind you.  The innocent must be protected!  And Mrs. Davis would nix anything too risqué or mean.  But the students did manage to get in their digs at each other, and especially at the popular kids, i.e., cheerleaders and football players.

The best part of being the Editor was that the Assistant Editor and I got to go through the gossip slips each week and choose which ones would be printed.  That meant that we got to see the risqué and mean ones that Mrs. Davis would nix for everyone else.  I’m embarrassed now to think back on how mature and privileged I felt!

I thought of that youthful episode as I observed the current Tiger Woods media feeding frenzy.  To put a twist on an old saying, “You can take us out of Jr. High, but you can’t take the Jr. High out of us.”  The “Gossip Page” is still the most popular section.  And, of course, the “news” providers excuse their appeals to the worst in us by saying that they only provide what the public wants – which was true with our Jr. High “Gossip Page” too.  Only now risqué and mean is the order of the day.  And if risqué and mean can bring the high and mighty down a notch, fine.  The foibles of cheerleaders, football players, and Tiger Woods are still high entertainment.

All of which is irrelevant for us Christians, since we’re exempt from such lingering “Jr. High-ness.”  Yeah, right!  Don’t we wish?!  The fact that the “Gossip Page” still piques our interest too can itself call us to serve the Lord in our Jr. High society in several ways:

§       First we can be readied to serve by confessing our own inner “Jr. High-er,” and by asking God’s forgiveness.

§       From the posture of confession, we can then pray for our fellow “Jr. High-ers,” including those who make lots of money calling forth the worst from us while disguised as news media – like Fox, CNN, etc.

§       From that same posture of confession we can pray for Tiger (in his shame) and the women (in their shamelessness).  Since we’ve known both shame and shamelessness, we’re well qualified to pray.

§       And we can thank God that he has sent a Savior for all of us perpetual “Jr. High-ers.”  It’s a good thing, because there is no sign of us saving ourselves.  Jr. High-ers can’t save Jr. Highers from their Jr. Highness.

We’re saved only by the One who left his highness to come among us.  Thus we celebrate his birth.

And that’s real news!

Keith

The Grand Illumination

An Inkling

Friday night Sarah and I went downtown for the “Grand Illumination” at the James Center.  This was the 25^th year for this popular Richmond tradition.  It’s a thrill to see tens of thousands of lights come on all at once, filling the cavernous corridors of downtown with their charming sparkle.  (If you haven’t been, you can get a more than this photo glimpse through the youtube video, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4r9h5cVy-c

Actually I found the people more fascinating than the lights.  Here’s why:

§       I’m guessing that there were over ten thousand people gathered – and this in the cold and dark.  That meant parking blocks away and walking.  We parked seven or eight blocks away, and as we walked we fell in with scores of others doing the same, many with the extra challenge of little children and baby strollers.  When people really want to do something, they will find a way to do it.

§       The crowd was a wonderful cross-section of Richmond, racially, socially, and in age.

§       The crowds displayed a simple, child-like delight in the occasion and the spectacle.  The plaza swelled with “oohs and aahs” when the lights went on, and then continued to buzz as people resonated with Santa’s antics, or the high school band, the brass ensemble, and the mariachi band.

§       The crowds were polite.  The tightness of the space might well have prompted some pushing for the best views, yet I saw people deferring to each other.  There is something about the Christmas occasion that can call forth the best from people.

Were all of the people there for the same reason?  Yes and no.  No, they don’t all know the One who really is “the reason for the season.”  But yes, they were all there out of a natural human delight in festivity, celebration, pageantry, and mutual enjoyment.

Sometimes we Christians get too much on our high horse as we exhort the larger culture to “keep Christ in Christmas.”  Such exhortations are best directed to ourselves – those who know the Christ of whom we speak.  Those who don’t yet know him can only hear such words as stuffy scolding. 

We would do better to focus our attention on finding as many ways as possible to unite with our fellow Richmonders in such festivities, and along the way to show them by word and deed that the season does have a reason – a reason of great substance and joy.  It’s the something more they’re all looking for, braving even in the cold and dark.  We can bring that “something” with us even to cultural Christmas celebrations.  We thereby live in the light of the truly Grand Illumination!

Ooh, Aah,

Keith

Little and Big in the Kingdom

An Inkling

There is an extra joy in our family gatherings these days, as a new generation is making its appearance.  Jack, who turns three this month, and Hilton, who is six weeks old, were very much at the center of things at our Thanksgiving gathering.  And I’m sure they’re still seeing stars from the camera flashes.

The picture attached here is of my hand and Hilton’s.  It’s fun to see a hand fully formed, yet tiny.  And the tiny-ness is most apparent in contrast to the big hand.

It’s a visual image of how much the little needs the big.  Little Hilton needs big hands to provide virtually everything for him – food, clothing, protection, cleansing, and guidance.  His hand, though fully formed, is not yet fully able.  And it is very satisfying to be on the big hand end of things, caring in such important ways for the little one.  (Of course it’s also exhausting!  But I’m the grand dad now, and so the satisfaction is more mine and the fatigue more his parents’!)

But in fact the big hands need the little ones too.  Jesus thought so.  He once set a little-handed child in the midst of his big-handed disciples.  They had just been having a big-handed debate about who would be the greatest in the Kingdom of God.  And Jesus said, “Unless you become as children, you will never enter the Kingdom.”  Big hands posture in power and feign competence.  Little hands can’t even pretend to such.  And thus they are more ready to receive the Kingdom that comes only as a gift, not an accomplishment.

The picture is actually a bit deceiving.  Most of us would see it as the big hand guiding the little hand, but Jesus saw it as just the opposite.  May he give us grace to follow such guidance, and to see just how tiny our hands in fact are.

In his grip,

Keith

Praying it Forward

An Inkling

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he told about the letter.  His mom had just died at the age of 97.  As he was cleaning out her house, he found an old box of letters, one of which was written to him as a baby by his grandparents.  His mom had filed the letter away, and he had never known that it existed.  In the letter his grandparents told him that they were very proud to have him in the family, and that they would pray for him daily to become a Christian, and then to become a pastor.

The man I heard tell about the letter is Gary Demarest, a retired pastor, and a leader among evangelicals in the Presbyterian Church.  One reason that the letter touched him so deeply is that he never really knew those grandparents.  Moreover, his parents were not practicing Christians, and so Gary grew up ignorant of the faith.  By God’s grace others introduced him to Christ as a teenager.  Soon after, he determined that God had called him into the ministry.  He served as a pastor for over 50 years.  Gary was so overwhelmingly grateful for those grandparents who prayed for him that he could hardly tell the story.

All of which leads me to ask:  for whom are you praying?  In particular, for what children are you praying?  Gary’s grandparents never knew how God answered their prayers – at least not in this life.  But answer he did, and in a way that has multiplied blessings across many families and years.  They prayed it forward.

So can you.  So again I ask:  for what children are you praying?  Your own children and grandchildren?  I hope so!  That’s a high calling.  But many other children also need your prayers, which means that those who are not parents themselves can be central to the praying.  Which children does God particularly place upon your heart?  Be diligent in prayer.  God uses such prayers to multiply blessings across generations.

And one more idea:  how about writing a letter to the children for whom you pray, and letting them know?  Gary was doubly blessed:  by how his grandparents prayed God’s blessing forward for him, and by the testimony of the letter.  It’s a wonderful way to serve some people who are very special to God, and in ways beyond our view – and likely beyond our lifetime.  They need it.

And so do we,

Keith

A Savior For Our Fears

An Inkling

How much of your behavior is driven by fear?  We’d like to think that it’s not much.  But truth be told, fear is one of our biggest motivators.  It’s easy to identify fear-based behavior when there is a clear physical peril – we run for our lives!  But the more subtle fears also prompt a lot of our behavior, and we don’t even realize it. 

Years ago I heard James Mallory, a Christian psychiatrist, describe some subtle fears that haunt men and women, and that twist their relationships with each other.  Typically men fear that they will be found inadequate and controlled, and women fear that they will be used and abandoned.  Of course our gendered identity is more complex than that, but time and again I have seen these fears played out, both in my own marriage, and in those of others I’ve counseled. 

We laugh at the stereotypical male reluctance to stop and ask for directions, but it’s a behavior that arises from deep within (i.e., fear of appearing inadequate).  And how many comedy shticks have you seen featuring a hen-pecked man (i.e., fear of being controlled)? 

As for women, which one wants to be valued only for the “3-M’s” – meals, maintenance, and mating (the fear of being used)?  And so common are tales of wives being dumped for sweet young things that many a wife clings to a relationship that is little more than those “3-M’s” (the fear of being abandoned).

When 1 John promises that God’s perfect love casts out fear, we usually picture some terrifying scene of peril.  And it is true that we need not finally fear terrorists or cancer or assault, for God himself holds us in his perfect love.  But day to day, in our closest relationships, God’s perfect love also releases us from fear.  And as it so often is with our Lord, his approach is paradoxical.

To men that fear they will be found inadequate he offers no assurance of adequacy.  Rather he says, “Of course you’re inadequate.  It’s high time you admitted it and turned to me.”  As one of the male persuasion, I can report that it’s a huge relief simply to go ahead and acknowledge the obvious:  I’m inadequate.  Okay.  There is One who is adequate, and he’s my Savior.  And as for being controlled, that fear also gets unplugged in a paradoxical way.  Jesus calls us to total obedience to him and mutual submission to each other.  How’s that for being controlled?!  And yet therein is freedom.

To women who fear that they will be used, the Savior issues an invitation to join him in serving the very people who are prone to take others for granted.  A willing servant need not fear being used.  And as for being abandoned, the steadiest promise in the whole Bible is God’s assurance that he will be with us.  No matter what others may do, it is literally impossible for a Christian woman to be abandoned!  God himself stays with her.  Thus his perfect love casts out fear.

May it be that we would grow up into Christ in such a way that even our gendered fears fade away!  That fading fear will be matched by a rising reflection of the One who saves us – and who lives free of all fear.

Blessings,

Keith

Veterans Day

An Inkling

            The Post Office may not be carrying mail on Veterans Day (November 11), but our E-News is still flying!  Still, it’s well not to treat Veterans Day like just any ol’ day.  We want to honor our veterans!

            Veterans Day began 90 years ago today.  On the previous November 11th (1918), an Armistice was signed that ended the hideous slaughter of World War I.  President Woodrow Wilson designated the next November 11th as Armistice Day, a day set aside to honor those who had served in the war. 

In fact, Wilson and others had hoped that these veterans had fought the last big war, the “war to end all wars.”  It was certainly horrid enough to make everyone shudder at the thought of another.  But another came, one even more ghastly – World War II.  This time no one was so glib as to call it as the “war to end all wars.”  And sure enough, the Korean War soon followed, and then Vietnam and several others, leading up to our ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Even if smaller, every one of these wars is horrid.  To recognize the ever-growing roll of veterans, in 1954 our nation changed the holiday’s name from Armistice Day to Veterans Day.

Across the centuries Christians have dealt with wars in many ways.  Sadly, some have acted as if our faith had nothing to do with it.  But gratefully most have recognized war’s evils, and have tried to respond accordingly.  Some have refused to participate at all – pacifists.  Thankfully our nation has allowed for conscientious objectors.  That, as much as the strength of our nation, makes me proud to be an American.

But many more Christians have participated in the Armed Forces, seeing some wars as unavoidable – the lesser of evils in a broken world.  Such Christians have sought to corral war’s chaos with “Just War” principles, and to some measure they have succeeded.  In the process they have secured our freedoms as a nation.

We as Christians can join with all Americans in celebrating the sacrifices of those who have served to preserve our freedoms.  As they say, “freedom is not free,” and thousands have paid with life or limb.  That is a huge gift, for which we must thank both God and the veterans.  We especially celebrate the service of our St. Giles veterans.  If you’re a Vet, check out their monthly meeting - http://www.stgiles.org/veteransgroup.cfm.

There will never be a war to end all wars, but there is a Savior who will end all wars.  Until he does, we serve him by doing all that we can to foster peace – prayer, bridge building, negotiations, and yes, service in the armed forces.  The challenges of both peace and war give urgency to our prayer, “Come, Lord Jesus!”  It can’t be too soon.

Thanks Vets!                                                                                   

Keith

Modified Christians

An Inkling

A couple of weeks ago I was visiting with another Presbyterian Minister, and in the course of conversation I referred to St. Giles Church as “evangelical.”  He responded, “And we’re not?”  Granted, it’s not the first word that comes to mind as I think about the church he serves.  But his readiness to claim the term made me think.

The modifiers with which we nuance our identity frequently obscure as much as they clarify.  That’s because these words pick up baggage along the way.  Wisdom would suggest that we use fewer such adjectives, and let the proper nouns carry their own freight.  “Christian” says quite a lot on its own. 

But sometimes we need to specify our beliefs and commitments with modifiers.  If we’re to do so, then we must also have periodic conversations about what we mean by our modifiers, and that’s to the good, for we are thereby forced to clarify both our thinking and our vocabulary.

So with that in mind, let me clarify some modifiers that I use for myself these days.  I’m a liberal, conservative, evangelical, charismatic, feminist, Presbyterian – which might lead you to add one more modifier:  schizophrenic!  But here’s what I mean:

I’m liberal.  Some use the word to describe those who discredit the scripture.  That’s not me.  By it I mean that I try to be open to diverse opinions. 

I’m conservative.  It’s not that I’m opposed to change.  I just want to conserve what’s true and best. 

I’m evangelical.  Though some use the word politically, I don’t.  Rather I mean that I’m confident in the good news of Jesus, and I welcome others to follow him too.  (And in conversation with my pastor friend, I was also using the word to mean a full trust in the scripture’s teaching – one of the great divides in our denomination.)

I’m charismatic.  It’s not that I roll in the aisles, but I’m open to all that the Spirit would do to enliven us and equip us for ministry.  (We need all of the help we can get!) 

I’m a feminist.  Some would cast women and men as just alike and ready for all the same roles.  I don’t.  But I do support the long overdue efforts to recognize the full range of women’s gifts, and to see that they are treated fairly in every setting.

I’m a Presbyterian.  Of all the modifiers I bear, this is the one that causes me the most angst, due to the current dysfunction of our denomination.  But for centuries it has been an effective arrangement for serving Christ, and it remains the one to which I’m called.

I’m sure you have your own modifiers for me!  Let’s continue to talk and clarify who we are, what we believe, and what we want to do as “modified Christians.”

No mere Christianity,

Keith