Just discovered this through The Center for Progressive Christianity site: FAITHFUTURES FOUNDATION: working together for the future of faith FaithFutures Foundation is a grassroots response to a widely perceived need for new ways to express and explore the sacred knowledge that we have inherited from the past through our religions and spiritual traditions. Writing from within the Christian tradition, FFF Advisor Marcus Borg recently described the root issue as follows: Given who we have become, one of the imperative needs of our time is a re-visioning of the Bible and Christianity ... What is needed in our time is a way of seeing the Bible that takes seriously the important and legitimate ways in which we differ from our ancestors. [This] way of seeing ... leads to a way of being Christian that has very little to do with believing. Instead, what will emerge is a relational and sacramental understanding of the Christian life. Being a Christian ... is about a deepening relationship with the God to whom the Bible points, lived within the Christian tradition as a sacrament of the sacred.

I am meeting tonight with the speaker series committee at church. This year we had John Shelby Spong, and last year we had Marcus Borg. We are brainstorming ideas for next year. Any suggestions?

I've been on a little Googling expedition for prayer and meditation online. Thought I would share the results with you, my readers. Please feel free to share with me any sites you know of that help you create a sacred or peaceful space for yourself, at your desk. Ave Maria World Wide Online Meditation Center Online Finger Meditation Tool Melanie Online - Meditation Room The Mandala Project online meditation center Spring Rain A 10-minute mindfulness guided meditation -- Beliefnet.com The Lord Is My Shepherd, a guided devotional of the 23rd Psalm -- Beliefnet.com Guided meditations on mindfulness, peace, the 23rd Psalm, the way of the cross, a breathing exercise and more -- Beliefnet.com Intuitive Flash: Meditation Room World Prayers

An important discussion at The Village Gate I hope you will check out. How Can We Defuse the Anger and Bitterness? | The Village Gate Allen writes: Did I ever sleep through some excitement! Last night, Atrios at Eschaton blasted Melanie and me--of course, without mentioning us by name or giving us a link. He complains about discrimination against atheists and the bogus claims of persecution coming from White Christian Males. ... One has to admire Atrios and Kos. They've built the left side of the blogosphere into a more-than-equal counter to Reynolds and company. But if they continue to dominate conversation in the progressive blogosphere while holding to the attitudes that both have toward religion and specifically, Christianity, the potential of this medium to mobilize the Left and counter the corporate-controlled media will never be realized. It's not their being atheists or agnostics that's the problem. It's not that they bash the Christian Right. It's that they express and/or countenance such an intense hatred of religiosity in any form so that their sites will offend the overwhelming majority of the public and ultimately be an embarrassment to politicians who must seek votes from those 90% of Americans who consider themselves religious. I wish I knew how to defuse all that anger. From the feedback I receive on this site, it seems that those who actually spend time here, even if they came full of justified anger and bitterness against Christianity and Christians, usually find something at The Village Gate/The Right Christians that counters their previous negative experiences. But one must take the risk of being exposed to the feared and the hated "Other" in order to be freed from stereotypes." To add your own comments at The Village Gate, you need to register. You can register for free and comment, or you can join as a contributor or subscriber for additional privileges, such as submitting articles and maintaining your own blog at The Village Gate.

I'd never heard of Randall Sullivan before hearing him interviewed Friday night on the Majority Report radio program. He wrote a book called The Miracle Detective, in which he told of his investigation into the reports of the visions of the Virgin Mary in Medjugorje. I first heard about these visions in Medjugorje when I read the book Looking for Mary Or, the Blessed Mother and Me a couple years ago. I admit it, I am intrigued by these things. Not sure if I believe, but definitely intrigued. The following comes from a review on the Religion News Service web site: What Sullivan didn't know was that his own investigation would lead from Vatican City in Rome to the tiny village of Medjugorje in the former Yugoslavia, where the Virgin Mary reportedly first appeared to six young people in 1981. "The more I learned about the controversy surrounding Medjugorje within the Church," says Sullivan, "the more remarkable it seemed to me that an event considered to be on par with Lourdes and Fatima was happening right now in a country that was being torn apart by the bloodiest European civil war in fifty years. I had to go there." Sullivan's harrowing search for an explanation of the miraculous, specifically in Bosnia-Herzegovina, occurred at the very same time that the country was being torn apart by the worst of humanity's evils: war, ethnic cleansing and mass graves. "The war in Bosnia-Herzegovina and all its attendant horrors was an essential aspect of my experience and of this book," says Sullivan. "This was the first time I had ever seen the effects of war in person, and I doubt anyone is not changed by the direct and visceral engagement of humanity's capacity for savagery. In that place, at that time, it was difficult to doubt that evil exists. Equally impressive, though, was the human capacity for heroism, for charity and for sacrifice. I sensed almost immediately that the events in Medjugorje were somehow inseparable from the war, and I wanted to understand how that could be. What I learned about this was disturbing and inspiring in equal measures." It was in Medjugorje that Sullivan encountered an unexpected turn in his investigation -- a personal religious experience in which a mysterious young woman came to his aid as he made a pilgrimage up the mountain of Krizevac. "What happened to me in Medjugorje was a kind of conversion experience," says Sullivan. "I was raised by a pair of atheists who took the Jesse Ventura view of religion -- that it is a crutch for the weak-minded. Both my siblings are avowed atheists. I was never really comfortable with this; even as a child I sensed that there was a divine source. Yet I had an experience of God's mercy and of Christ's sacrifice that was unprecedented in my life, and that I found myself unable to deny and unwilling to disavow even after I returned to my secular reality in the United States." Sullivan interviewed dozens of theologians, believers, skeptics, and apostates in an attempt to make sense of what he found in Medjugorje, from the compassionate Father Slavko Barbaric, an intellectual priest known as the Medjugorje seers' "spiritual director," to the legendary Father Benedict Groeschel, who is continually called upon to investigate supernatural -- or at least strange -- phenomena across America, culminating an eight-year investigation of predictions of apocalyptic events, false claims of revelation, and the search for a genuine theophony, that is, the ultimate interface between man and God.

Happy Easter! In a little while we will leave for Easter potluck brunch at church. I have been to Mass already and heard my daughter sing in the children's choir. We found out that the new associate rector is coming soon, and saw a letter of introduction from her. We are both happy that the new priest is a woman--I was thankful that my daughter got to experience something I never did, seeing Mother Astrid say Mass. When Mother Astrid was called to a church in New England, we hoped that her successor would also be a "Mother" rather than a "Father"--even if she didn't actually call herself that. After church, there was an Easter egg hunt in the cemetery--now there's some symbolism for you! Daffodils and headstones. Joyful discovery among reminders of our own mortality. Life, death, life, and hope. Spring again--finally. On the way home, we were pleased to find that the local grocery store does sell butter in the shape of a lamb . I told my daughter that it was a Polish tradition, swieconka and how I used to celebrate it with my grandmother (for whom my daughter is named). She said, "I know somebody who's part Polish!" and told me about one of her friends from school. I told her that I was mostly Polish, so that she also part Polish. She was truly amazed, and said she didn't know that. I'm sure I told her before at some point, but maybe it just hadn't been the right "teachable moment". I was really hungry, and she gave me one of the ears of the big bunny cookie she received from her choir director. I said, "Thank you for sharing" and she responded, "Thank you for having me born!" I'm not making that up--she actually said that! Fortunately, she was also in enough of a giving mood to share some of her loot with her brother when she got home. They still both struggle with the idea of what is "fair" and invariably every time one of them gets some treat and the other doesn't, unhappiness ensues. Last night she found the evidence of his trip to McDonald's--a Happy Meal toy--and marched into the office presenting it to us-- "I know where he went today!" But today, she got to go on an Easter egg hunt and he didn't. As a Radical Secular Humanist (a term my husband and I made up for him), he doesn't have to sit through church, but he also misses the occasional treat. It all balances out, more or less. But in a few minutes we will head back to church--this time all four of us--bringing my husband's fresh baked bread, the butter lamb, and a banana cream pie (Grandma's recipe--the kind I used to make when I stayed over at her house and helped with the Easter preparations.) Some words about Easter before I go... Thoughts on Easter from Andrew Greeley As Jews, the early followers of Jesus had no doubt that the environment was good. Yahweh had made it and that was that. Yet their law prohibited many material things, often for reasons that were socially functional when the laws were created–meat that was easily spoiled and poisoned, for example. But many of the sects among them were obsessed with the fear that they might be rendered "impure" by the corruption of the world around them. Hence these sectaries spent considerable amounts of time in ritual hand-washings and baths. Furthermore, Jews were suspicious of the pagan tendency to worship the forces of nature superstitiously (despite the vestiges of nature rites in their own religion). Finally, the Jewish intellectuals of their time–particularly outside of Palestine–could not help but be influenced by Platonic philosophy and its religious descendent, Gnosticism, both of which were strongly antimaterial and antibody. But in the Christ event at Easter the followers Of Jesus learned that the material world was saved too. God gave his supreme gift of himself, his ultimate revelation of himself, not in the form of a Gnostic angel but in the form of a man who eats, drinks, grows weary, and falls asleep like all other men. God had entered the cosmos, not as pure spirit but as very much part of the material world. Therefore, that world was holy. The body of Jesus shared in the resurrection, and that settled the matter once and for all. The world was good. It was both the object and the means of salvation. It was the recipient of grace. It revealed God's gift to us. Indeed it was part of the gift. The world is grace. Further thoughts from Greeley on the meaning of the Easter experience: There are different names to describe this Something Else: the Sacred, the Ultimate, the Transcendent, the Other, and, in a marvelous burst of German existentialist redundancy, the Totally Other. But whatever we call that phenomenon which flits across our preoccupied, mundane consciousness, religion is that kind of human activity which attempts to relate our life to the Something Else which may be at work in the universe. The most basic of religious questions–maybe the only one that really matters–is whether we can accept the claim to graciousness and loving care which the Something Else seems to be making in our occasional encounter with it. There have been some extraordinarily powerful and intense experiences of the Something Else down through human history. From these special events come the great religious traditions, which attempt to share these very special experiences with those who "were not there." A wandering collection of desert nomads became aware of their common peoplehood at the foot of a mountain, and in that awareness experienced the graciousness of the God who, on his own initiative, entered into a covenant with them that constituted them a people. The rest of Jewish religious history consists of efforts to keep alive the memory of the Sinai experience so that those who were not there could encounter the love and goodness of the gracious Lord of Sinai. Similarly, a group of Galilean peasants, fishermen, and tradesmen developed an extraordinary relationship with a very special kind of popular preacher. Much to their sorrow, he did not establish the temporal kingdom everyone expected. He was arrested and executed by the soldiers of the occupying power. But to their complete astonishment, his followers did experience him as supremely alive after he died. In the power of that Easter experience of the risen Lord they came to understand, as they never had done previously, what he was talking about when he preached. They perceived him as a special messenger of God who preached, more strongly than anyone ever had before, the great intensity and intimacy of the Something Else's love for humankind. Indeed, they saw that the Something Else–God–was present in Jesus in a unique and special way so that he was God's son in a way others were not. They saw that life did matter, that God did love his creatures, that death was not the end, and that with the coming of Jesus a new era in human history had begun. Humankind was getting a second chance, a fresh new start. Filled with enthusiasm and excitement over this experience –which ran contrary to the fears and insecurities of their own personalities–they immediately went forth to share the Good News of their experience with the rest of humankind. And finally, thoughts from Marcus Borg on Revisioning Chrstianity: If we take what we see in Jesus seriously, as a "disclosure of what a life full of God looks like," what does that life look like? I will describe that life with two pairs of words, and the two pairs are spirit – wisdom on the one hand, and compassion – justice on the other hand. I begin with the first pair. It will be a life centered in spirit and wisdom, and I will now talk about spirit and wisdom separately. When I speak about a life centered in the spirit of God, I am referring, of course, to my strong sense that Jesus, historically speaking, was a Jewish mystic. Now a mystic, very simply, is a person for whom God, or the Spirit or the sacred, are an experiential reality. Mystics are people who have vivid, and typically frequent, experiences of the sacred. I think, contrary to what some of my colleagues would say, the evidence that Jesus was a Jewish mystic is early, widespread, and persuasive. Thus for Jesus as a historical person, his relationship to the Spirit was utterly central, or foundational, to everything else he was. Jesus, I am convinced, knew the immediacy of the sacred in his own experience. He knew the reality of an unbordered relationship with God in his own experience. And, very importantly, he invited his followers into a relationship with the same Spirit that he knew in his own experience. At the risk of repeating myself, and to put it as simply as I know how, a life full of God is a life centered in the Spirit of God. If we take this seriously, it means that spirituality will be one of the two focal points of the Christian life. The other focal point will be compassion in the world of the everyday. That’s what I’ll talk about under compassion and justice, of course, but it means that spirituality will be one of the two focal points of the Christian life. I define spirituality myself very simply as: becoming conscious of, and intentional about, a deepening relationship with God. Let me expand that briefly by commenting upon three words. Conscious. What I have in mind there is that we are all already in a relationship with God and have been from the very beginning. Spirituality is about becoming conscious of that relationship that already exists. Intentional. Intentional means paying attention to that relationship. There is nothing terribly mysterious about the relationship with God. It is analogous to human relationships. The more you pay attention to it, the more it deepens. Relationship. When I speak about the third term I want to unpack, it’s about a deepening relationship with God. Spirituality is not very much about believing, at all. You don’t have to believe a thing to begin the practice of spirituality. Some people say, "Well, don’t you have to believe in God before you can start doing this?" No! Of course you don’t. Sometimes belief precedes. Sometimes belief follows. It’s about a relationship with that Mystery (capital "M") within which we live, and move, and have our being. Now, if we take spirituality seriously as one of the two focal points of the Christian life, this leads immediately to a way of thinking about one of the major purposes of our life together as "church." I say one, because I don’t want to say it’s the only one. I try to speak about one of the major purposes of our life together as ‘church’ with the twin metaphor, the double metaphor, of open hearts and thin places. That spirituality, or the Christian life, is ultimately about the opening of the heart, the opening of the self at its deepest level, to the reality of God. To be even more metaphorical about that, Allen Jones of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, in one of his books, speaks of spirituality as for the hatching of the heart. It’s a wonderful image, because it suggests that our hearts, ourselves at the deepest level, typically have a shell around them. If the life that is within is to come into full life, that shell must open. Christianity, the spiritual life in Christian form, is about the opening of itself at the deepest level to God.

I remember how impressed I was when I heard that William Sloane Coffin had endorsed Howard Dean. I wish I'd had the chance to meet him--he has been such a source of wisdom and insight to me. Coffin ready: "Having spent his life raging against bigotry, nuclear arms and economic excess, the Rev. William Sloane Coffin says he intends to die gently, without fuss, without fury. 'We should cooperate gracefully with the inevitable,' he says pragmatically, acknowledging with some amusement that, while he's had a fiery public life, he is a man who picks his battles. 'If you don't come to grips with death early on, but know you'll die, it will make you insecure. And that's the worst thing that humans can do, try to secure themselves against insecurity. With money. Or power. Pretending that life will go on forever. And it makes others pay a gruesome price. 'You see, you can't get rich without making someone else poor. You can't get power without disempowering somebody else. All of these things are forms of pride ... and are essentially corrupt.'" -- Since he suffered a stroke, Coffin's speech is slightly slurred; he sometimes must repeat a word or two. His voice doesn't boom like it used to, but he can still rant against what he finds intolerable - lately the duo of Bush and Cheney, men he believes are muddied by deception and are putting U.S. soldiers' lives at risk in a war with Iraq that shouldn't even be. -- Death may be inevitable, he says, but atrocities and injustices are not. Mention the war in Iraq, and he says that he wishes the military brass had quit in protest. "Bush, Cheney, Pearl ... (they're) intellectually in a bunker. They're lacking in imagination, and have misled the country, including the military. I feel sympathy for those who are in Iraq." Coffin says the churches have grown too conservative, like the whole country, forgetting that the devil tempted Jesus with wealth and power. He thinks his thesis in a book published in the 1980s by Westminster/John Knox, A Passion for the Possible, still holds up - that the world the churches ought to be working to create is one without violent conflict, without pollution, and without "a yawning chasm" between rich and poor. Some churches are "irrelevant(ly) righteous," he says, and others are "more concerned with free love than free hate." He says the answer to bad religion isn't no religion - it's good religion. He laments that much about church life is "management and therapy. There is so little prophetic fire." "Anger has a very important spiritual benefit," Coffin says. "If you don't have anger, you end up tolerating the intolerable - and that's intolerable. I still have plenty of anger that is ready to be used at a moment's notice." He pauses, then adds: "When you get older, you find that you don't miss as much as you thought you would. I was a damn good tennis player. Now, I can hardly walk ... I don't grieve that. I was a serious pianist. But I no longer have the energy to keep up my digital dexterity. So, I listen to music; I don't play it. If you adapt in this way, it is a positive thing. You're not in control anymore, less and less. And that's very nice. ... "As I think I have said other places, it's a very good thing we don't live forever. ... If life were endless, we'd be bored to death. ... The fact that we're going to die gives meaning to life, gives meaning to our days. And that is a good thing."

John Dominic Crossan on Jesus' Kingdom Program -- Beliefnet.com After centuries of subjugation to various empires, the Jews of Jesus’ time wanted to know: if God is just, and the world belongs to God, why is the world so unjust? One stream of Jewish tradition answered that question with this mantra: God will overcome, someday. At some point in the future, God would not only clean up the mess but also create a perfect world. We sometimes mistakenly call that expected Utopia the “end of the world,” but for ancient Jews or Christians that would have been impossible. They believed that only God could destroy the world and that, having created it and declared it to be all-good in Genesis 1, he would never annul that creation. (We, of course, can easily imagine the “end of the world” since we ourselves can now do it atomically, biologically, chemically, demographically, or ecologically-and we are only up to the letter E.) What ancient people waited for with eager faith was an end not to earth or world, but to evil, violence, and oppression. What they expected was not a transfer from earth to heaven, but a transfer of heaven to earth. -- Jesus arose from this stream of Jewish tradition--but he also made three rather stunning mutations within it. Jesus did not create an innovation against Judaism but a transformation within Judaism. Here are Jesus’ ideas: First, he claimed that the Kingdom of God, a standard term for the Great Divine Clean-Up of Earth, was not just imminent but already here, was not just coming soon but had already started. And that, by the way, was a difficult claim to make. What may have been expected as an instant of blinding divine transformation was now proclaimed to be a process in time, an event with a beginning, a continuation, and an end. More about why the power structure of the day perceived Jesus as a threat: This kingdom is about God, not Jesus himself, and is on earth. It addresses two main concerns of peasants: bread and death. "They have too much of the second and too little of the first," quips Crossan. Jesus is a Jew, and the early kingdom movement'-the expectation of God's earthly rule and Israel's liberation from foreign oppression-is not the founding of a religion called Christianity but a thoroughly Jewish phenomenon. Unfortunately, we know relatively little of the Judaism of the first century, and much of what we do know derives from the New Testament.

From Frontline: from jesus to christ: jesus many faces: arrest and execution The plaque which names him as Jesus, the king of the Jews, suggests that the charge on which he was executed was one of political insurrection. A threat to the Pax Romana but he's also now a victim of the Pax Romana. Allen D. Callahan: Associate Professor of New Testament, Harvard Divinity School [Why was Jesus killed?] The Roman answer is good enough for me. He was causing trouble. He constituted a security risk and he was dealt with the way the Romans always deal with security risks in the provinces. This was a matter of not even so much politics, as policy. This is how the Romans handled trouble-makers, even if they didn't intend to make trouble. One of the questions that runs like a leitmotif in modern New Testament studies is whether Jesus was fomenting revolution, ...[whether] Jesus' self-concept had to do with being a revolutionary or being someone who was overturning the Roman establishment. For the moment anyway, I'm probably willing to leave that question unanswered. I think the Roman answer is the one that's important, and that is, whatever he was doing, it was considered dangerous enough that he'd be crucified for it. And, that's exactly what they did. Paula Fredriksen: William Goodwin Aurelio Professor of the Appreciation of Scripture, Boston University Would Jesus have stood out as being special and unique in the eyes of Pilate? Pilate was not a happy choice as Prefect of Judea. He had a reputation as a man who had sticky fingers. In a period where graft and corruption was the prerogative of a provincial official, he still had a high profile as somebody who was corrupt. He had a reputation for executing untried prisoners, for venality and theft.... He's not somebody you'd want to get on the wrong side of. Pilate occasioned riots in Jerusalem. He would get nervous when there were crowds of Jews. And of course he was legally responsible to be up in Jerusalem when it was the most crowded of all. He would leave this very nice, plush, seaside town in Caesarea, which was, you know, a nice pagan city. Plenty of pagan altars. All the stuff he wanted. And had to go up to Jerusalem where all these Jews were congregating and stay there for crowd control until the holiday was over. He was in a bad mood already by the time he got to town. And Passover would fray anybody's nerves. [And] remember in this period, government depends on spies. It's particularly [important] if you're an occupying power. You need to have spies to know what's going on. People reporting came back, "Lookit, there's somebody who's really getting people excited and agitated talking about a Kingdom of God." Pilate doesn't care about theological niceties. Pilate doesn't even care about legal niceties. This is why ... ultimately, he's fired for his corruption and incompetence. Hearing that somebody is a trouble maker would be enough. Boom. He's dead. I think that's probably what happened with Jesus....

From The Center for Progressive Christianity At his last supper with his disciples, Jesus invited all twelve to share in the bread and wine, although not one of them had yet developed any faith in him. Of the twelve - one betrayed him, one denied him, and the rest ran away. Following the example of Jesus, we think that all people present should be offered bread and wine whenever the church celebrates the Lord's Supper. As they share the ritual meal, they participate in the vision of a just world where all people live at peace. The "banquet" that always begins with the bread and wine has been a symbol of inclusiveness and reconciliation throughout the Jewish and Christian traditions. How ironic it seems that the church for centuries has used communion as the symbol and tool for divisiveness, often creating complicated rules, laws and policies about who can receive the communion elements and who cannot. And yet many of our favorite stories of Jesus's life are about his open table, his table of fellowship, and the wonderfully strange and unique people with whom we find him "breaking bread" and dining. It is probably no coincidence that many scholars today believe the stories about Jesus's open table are considered some of the most authentic historical passages in the gospels, in part because they are so unique for the times. Marcus J. Borg wrote in Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, "one of his (Jesus's) most characteristic activities was an open and inclusive table." (p.55) Later he notes that, "The inclusive vision incarnated in Jesus's table fellowship is reflected in the shape of the Jesus movement itself." (p. 56) John Dominic Crossan writes that Jesus's open table fellowship is a core teaching component and symbol of his life. He notes that Jesus's practice of "open commensality (rules of tabling and eating) is the symbol and embodiment of radical egalitarianism, of an absolute equality of people that denies the validity of any discrimination between them and negates the necessity of any hierarchy among them." (Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography, p.27, 1994) Most modern scholars believe that this unique table fellowship was the precursor of what became the Lord's Supper, or the Eucharist. Borg writes, "ultimately, the meals of Jesus are the ancestor of the Christian Eucharist." (p.56) Progressive Christians then assume that we are following the instructions and model of Jesus when we practice open communion. We are acting out of a long tradition and a fundamental expression of God's love, the heart of the original Jesus movement. More on open commensality: Jesus told a parable which summed up his views on the matter. It was about a man giving a feast for his friends all of whom, when the time came, found excuses not to come. Undaunted by this, the rich man sent out his servants to invite in any they could find - Luke's version talks about "the poor and maimed and blind and lame", and when they have been found and there is still room at table, the servants get sent out again. The host replaces the absent guests with anyone off the streets. Now, as soon as you start inviting people off the streets, normal commensality breaks down. If taken literally, in such a situation one could have classes, sexes, ranks and religious status all mixed up together. Anyone could be reclining next to anyone else, female next to male, slave next to free, socially high next to socially low, ritually pure next to ritually impure. An absolute social nightmare. That, it seems, is not only how Jesus thought, it is how he lived. His parable advocates, and his practice was, open commensality, a sharing of bread and cup together without using the table as a miniature map of society's discriminations and separations. The almost predictable accusation against him was that he was a man without morals, or as the socially and politically correct of the day expressed it, a glutton, a drunkard, and a friend of tax collectors and sinners. He makes no appropriate distinctions and discriminations about those with whom, in the strict commensality of first century Judaism, open and free association should be avoided. And why did he do this? Quite simply, Jesus' radical vision of the equality of people under God. Or, one might say, Jesus' vision of the radical equality of people under God. It is difficult in the relative egalitarianism of our democratic New Zealand society to stress how disturbing in a highly structured society were Jesus' convictions and actions. Society was rigidly divided socially, politically, economically, and religiously. And within the first century Jewish framework of thinking, where you stood within the social, economic and religious distinctions, represented where you stood in relation to acceptability with God. Being male put you closer to God than being female. Being rich put you closer to God than being poor (because clearly you were blessed by God). Being of priestly descent (because priesthood was hereditary not something you felt called to) put you closer to God than ordinary people. Being healthy put you closer to God than being ill or disabled. Your occupation put you closer to or further from God - so being a shepherd, for instance, despite all the lovely imagery of the Hebrew scriptures such as psalm 23, put you about as far away from God as you could get. Unless, of course, you weren't a Jew, in which case God wasn't in the least interested in you. Jesus, the subversive sage, the indiscriminate healer, the social prophet, would have none of this. His primary thrust was to break down definitions of acceptable and unacceptable, to remove all socially- and religiously-imposed barriers between people and God, and to express the compassion of God, the caring of God, regardless of who people were. Indiscriminate caring and loving was demonstrated by meals in people's homes and meals in open places, where no one was considered inappropriate. It was, scholars like John Dominic Crossan assert, in this open commensality, this indiscriminate table fellowship of sharing and caring, that the holy communion found its roots, despite later developments linking bread and wine to Jesus' own body and blood and impending death and the so-called Last Supper. And, if that is so, it means that each service of Holy Communion is not just a time to be religious, spiritually fed; it is at heart a political, economic and social action. "When we come together to break bread, we must break it to the hungry, to God himself in his poor members," wrote Henry L'Estrange in the mid-seventeenth century. John A T Robinson, writing in the mid-twentieth century, wrote, "The sharing of bread, concluded now sacramentally, must be continued socially - and thence economically and politically." Andrew Greeley writes about the mystery of the Eucharist: The followers of Jesus were not likely to forget that at the Last Supper Jesus washed their feet. Nor were they likely to forget that on the next day he suffered and died for them. God, through Jesus, had revealed a love for his creatures which meant that he would serve them. The secret of keeping the community together after Jesus had gone would be to continue this generous, self-giving service which, in Jesus, reflected the love of the heavenly Father for all his creatures. If God had served unselfishly, so must they. That is the secret of sustaining friendship. One keeps an intimate relationship going by calculating, not ways of getting but ways of giving. One sustains affection, not by being served but by serving. One keeps the fires of love burning hot and bright, not by thinking about oneself but by being concerned with the good of the other. Paradoxically, one gets the most for oneself by being the most unselfish. Only he who gives himself generously to another can expect any generosity in return. The aim of love is not to possess the other but to be possessed by the other. This is what the Christian Eucharist was supposed to be. Having received the gift of God in Jesus, Christians give themselves to one another. The warmth and generosity of the Christian ritual meal was supposed to spill out and transform all the other common meals in which a Christian participated–particularly those with the ones he loved the most. It is obvious that such a transformation does not always occur. The imagery of the Eucharist has been obscured, and many people do not realize what they are about when they take part in it. But this may not be the basic problem. The imagery was quite clear to the Christians of Corinth, yet we have Paul's testimony that they were still able to ignore it and continue fighting with one another. If the Eucharist does not transform completely the atmosphere of the other common meals that Christians eat, the reason is not that the message of the Eucharist is obscure. It is rather that the message of friendship through self-forgetting sacrifice is one we would much prefer not to receive. It has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found hard and not tried. The Last Supper was connected (there is some debate about how) with the Jewish Passover. A purified spring fertility rite, the Passover celebrated the liberating and life-giving love of Yahweh for his people in the past. Holy Communion (or the Mass) is a paschal banquet, an Easter dinner. It is Easter every day of the year; for it celebrates, commemorates, and re-presents the Christ event which the followers of Jesus experienced on the first day of the week. It is the Easter experience all over again. It also may be thought of as a wedding banquet in which the union between God and his people is celebrated. We mark great events in our lives with splendid meals. The nuptials between God and his people took place when God gave himself completely for his people (as a husband and wife give themselves completely for and to one another in marriage) in the summing-up acts of the last three days of Holy Week. The Mass is a wedding banquet precisely because it is Easter every day of the year. The Eucharist, then, is the center of the Christian life because it is the ritual that contains in one package all the mysteries we have so far described–God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, cross and resurrection, salvation, and grace. If one wants to know what Christians believe about the nature and purpose of our existence, one need only consider the Eucharist. Life is about love–joyous, intense, generous, self-giving love–which seeks not to be served but to serve others. God invites us to love by giving himself to us, and we respond by giving ourselves to him in the loving service of others. Holy Communion is not merely the reception of the host, it is a whole style of living. It is, like the rest of Christianity, not the performance of certain actions but rather a style of performing all actions, a style of generous, celebrating joy. The Sunday Holy Communion of Christians may not always look very joyous or very generous or very loving. But then Jesus never expected perfection from his followers (a good thing, because he never got it). He does expect effort, effort at making the Eucharist a joyous, generous event, and effort at transferring the joy and generosity to all our common meals and to all the intimate relationships which are commemorated, and hopefully strengthened, in such meals. Here you can read about the Passover meal, as Jesus and his Apostles might have experienced it, and see a diagram of the likely seating--or rather reclining--arrangements.

What did the Apostles experience at the Last Supper in the washing of the feet? What does it mean for us? And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. It would have been different if he had greeted them with this; or had taken the slaves' ladel as well as the bowl. Or had waited 'til the end of the meal. There were many ways he could have done this differently. But this is what he did. During the meal, while they all ate and talked, he rose from the couch he reclined on with his friends and followers. He took off his outer robe. [The garment worn for decency in public, for covering nakedness, for keeping some things private.] And tied a towel around himself. [Think of it this way, you have your dress shirt on, only it has an even hem and comes down to between mid-thigh and the knees. No boxers. No socks. You take an extra long dish cloth and wrap one end of it round your hips. Tuck the other end in at the waist for the moment or throw it over your shoulder.] Then he poured water in a basin [More like a bird bath than a mixing bowl. Large and shallow, not really designed for carrying about.] and began to wash the disciples' feet. [They are reclining at table, heads in, feet out. And the Master of all comes round, like a slave to wash them, and not their hands that they use for eating, but their feet. Their feet covered with the dust of the world. The dust of past travel. Of past action.] And He made them clean. As with the love that lays down life for friendship, so is this. That lays down pride and postion, image and doing-the-right-things. That is seen talking to the homeless on a main street. Cleaning the toilets at church. Taking the single mothers children to the beach so she can have a free day. The endless round of servant tasks that make this world closer to the Kingdom. Indeed, loving the other enough to make the Kingdom appear in their life. Yes, there is risk. But the world has never been comfortable with those who serve rather than be served, who give rather than take. 'Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,' and He told us his will. 'Love God [] and love your neighbour as yourself.' But let us go back again to what He did. This person participating in a meal with a group of his friends and students, wearing the power suit of the day, gets up and takes off his jacket. Puts a towel over his arm, fills a bowl with water, and attends to their comfort. Assuming the tasks and appearance of a servant. Changing roles freely, joyously? for love of those who he served. He proclaims in word and deed, 'I am your servant, this is how I lead you, how I love you, how I wish you to love me.' There are other examples if you look for them. Those who are healed when they are listened to, when they, with all their faults, are accepted and declared whole. Those also, who are healed because they believe. That are ready to accept the grace, the service, of God. But this is all immediate, hands on, one to one service offered and received between people long ago and in another context and culture. Is it not? MSBC Dateline Special: The Last days of Jesus Dateline seeks out some of the world's most respected scholars -- believers and non-believers -- to find out what they think happened almost 2,000 years ago. NBC's Stone Phillips reports.

Passover By Lynn Ungar They thought they were safe that spring night; when they daubed the doorways with sacrificial blood. To be sure, the angel of death passed them over, but for what? Forty years in the desert without a home, without a bed, following new laws to an unknown land. Easier to have died in Egypt or stayed there a slave, pretending there was safety in the old familiar. But the promise, from those first naked days outside the garden, is that there is no safety, only the terrible blessing of the journey. You were born through a doorway marked in blood. We are, all of us, passed over, brushed in the night by terrible wings. Ask that fierce presence, whose imagination you hold. God did not promise that we shall live, but that we might, at last, glimpse the stars, brilliant in the desert sky.

Today is the anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. The following is an excerpt from his acceptance speech upon receiving the Nobel Peace Prize: Martin Luther King - Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech: "I accept this award today with an abiding faith in America and an audacious faith in the future of mankind. I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the 'isness' of man's present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal 'oughtness' that forever confronts him. I refuse to accept the idea that man is mere flotsom and jetsom in the river of life unable to influence the unfolding events which surround him. I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality. I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of thermonuclear destruction. I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. I believe that even amid today's motor bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow. I believe that wounded justice, lying prostrate on the blood-flowing streets of our nations, can be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men. I have the audacity to believe that peoples everywhere can have three meals a day for their bodies, education and culture for their minds, and dignity, equality and freedom for their spirits. I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, men other-centered can build up. I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed, and nonviolent redemptive goodwill will proclaim the rule of the land. 'And the lion and the lamb shall lie down together and every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree and none shall be afraid."

I just got an e-mail from People for the American Way. Please pass this info along to any lists or blogs you frequent. "With members and supporters like you, it is hard to imagine that a day might come when People For the American Way's voice for democracy, fairness and justice would be muted. But we, and almost all other nonprofit advocacy groups, are facing the unimaginable because of proposed rules being considered in April by the Federal Election Commission. The FEC - an appointed body of three Democrats and three Republicans - is considering new rules that would muzzle virtually all nonprofit advocacy groups, right in the middle of this critical election year. These over-reaching, unjustified rules would severely limit, if not outright prohibit, People For and other nonprofits from engaging in advocacy activities that are vital to our democracy, such as registering voters in the months before a federal election or informing voters of federal officials' policy positions and the potential impact of those positions. Urge the FEC to reject the harmful and unwarranted rules on nonprofit free speech and advocacy - send a free fax to the FEC today: http://www.pfaw.org/go/FAX_the_FEC/ Note: The FEC's deadline for comments is April 9th, but we encourage you to get your comment in by April 8th to make sure it is considered. Outside of a few brief articles, little media attention is being paid to this enormous threat to freedom of speech and democratic debate. We really need your help to spread the word, especially to friends and family members who belong to nonprofit organizations. The FEC's proposed rules would affect nearly every type of nonprofit: big and small; activist- and research-oriented; left-wing, right-wing, and centrist. If you or a friend works for, or sits on the board of, a nonprofit, urge that an organizational letter of opposition be sent."

I found out about this site a while ago, but it somehow kept slipping my mind and I don't think I ever posted about it... Jesus No Republican Would Jesus be a Republican in America today? Jesus of Nazareth was a man famous for being a paragon of virtue and yet the epitome of humility, a man who gave the rich a hard time, while associating with the dregs of society, much less like a Conservative Republican than a Liberal Democrat. This site was created by Ray Dubuque, who also created Liberals Like Christ. I've seen him around the internet, and in Yahoo groups, but today is the first time I've seen his "about me" page that tells something of his history. Ray is the younger of two sons born in Chicago to a very devout Roman Catholic family. All his early schooling was in parochial schools, where a really dedicated priest turned him on to what Catholics were then calling the "Social Gospel", and which Conservatives today cannot distinguish from "socialism" or "communism". Wanting to be like his saintly mentor, Ray then spent twelve years in Catholic seminaries. including four extra years devoted to the study of the empowering and liberating philosophy of Aristotle, theology of Thomas Aquinas and Good News of Jesus Christ. After earning the equivalent of a Master's degree in Theology at Catholic University of America, in D.C., and being ordained a priest, he became a seminary professor. When, however, he saw his church take a U-turn after the Second Vatican Council and start heading back to the dark ages again, he lost any hope that the Roman Catholic Church would be reformed in his lifetime and became a minister in the United Methodist Church, where the Reformation had already taken place. Before leaving the church, however, Ray used every opportunity to preach this powerful sermon, challenging the Roman Catholic hierarchy, on behalf of the voiceless people in the pews, and then sent a copy of it to the Pope and to every Catholic bishop in America. Ray then married Jane, one of the most genuine Christian women imaginable, who like Ray had outgrown the R C church. Jane had five children at the time, but the Dubuques were persuaded by the teaching of Jesus ("when you did it to the least of these, you did it to ME") to rescue and adopt five more children, three of them severely handicapped and to promote the adoption of many more by others. Wow--color me impressed!

Something reminded me recently that Fred Rogers' wife Joanne published a book of his writings entitled The World According to Mister Rogers, and I have ordered it from the library. We really need--okay, I really need--his gentle wisdom in the world right now. Here is an article I just found, written by a minister, about what he learned from Mr. Rogers. Theme: Good Neighbor Policies - LeadershipJournal.net What I learned about ministry from Mr. Rogers. "It's you I like" Mr. Rogers always reminded his viewers that he likes them just the way they are. It was something his Grandfather McFeeley used to say. While other family members discussed young Fred's introverted nature, his praise-worthy qualities were celebrated by someone he esteemed. I needed that reminder in my first church. Early on, a few vocal critics challenged my adequacy as a spiritual shepherd. It was painful. I didn't feel loveable or loved. But when I heard Mr. Rogers telling my daughters "I like you just the way you are," it felt good—to them and to me. People could like me, just the way I was. Mr. Rogers said so. I began to take the power of affirmation more seriously. As hard as it was, I determined to focus on the positive qualities of my detractors. If the puppet-residents of Make Believe could find something likeable in the wicked, self-centered, bulbous-nosed Lady Elaine Fairchild, then surely I could like the head of my church's mission society. Everyone has something worthy of appreciation, right? To my amazement, when I celebrated aspects of their personalities I genuinely liked, their attitude toward me was less critical. Yesterday I found an article about the book, including an interview with Joanne Rogers. This part really stood out for me, and I try to take it to heart. She was often inspired by her husband's example, in particular by his scrupulous effort to avoid condemning the behavior of others. He was not only a generator of great quotes, but a collector of other people's sayings. Among the many quotes that he kept folded up in his wallet was a line from a Benedictine nun, Sister Mary Lou Kownacki: "There isn't anyone you couldn't love once you've heard their story." Not always easy. Maybe I should keep that quote folded up in my wallet too.

Archbishop of Canterbury Palm Sunday Sermon Jerusalem Sermon given by the Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams at the Cathedral Church of St George the Martyr, Jerusalem, on Palm Sunday, 13th April 2003 As believers and as human beings, we stand at the gates of the city a city of wrong as one great Muslim writer called it in the title of his fictional meditations on the last week of the Lord's life; a city where so many sufferers are silenced and where so many innocent on both sides of the terrible conflict are killed and their deaths hidden under a cloak of angry, selfish, posturing words, whatever language they are spoken in. We know that in this city, trying to live by faith, hope and love leaves us looking pretty helpless. And we also know in our hearts that so much of what fuels the violence is in ourselves too: the passionate longing never to be a victim again, the hunger for security expressed in the ownership of the land, the impotent near-mindless fury that bursts out in literally suicidal ways, and brings destruction to so many.something. We too are citizens of this city of wrong. Jesus does not steer us away from the gates and send us back into the holy silence of the desert or the peace of the countryside. He keeps us close to him as we stand at the gates, and he tells us that these are also the gates of heaven. If you recognise your involvement and prepare to walk with Jesus into the city, to the cross and the tomb, there is a joy and a mystery at the end of the path, because it is inexhaustible divine love that walks with us. We stand not just at the gates of the city of wrong, the great city where the Lord was crucified, as revelation says, but also at the entrance to the Garden of Eden. --- Today we reaffirm our desire to live there, whatever the cost. We pray that God will raise up leaders, on all sides, whose vision of this is clear. Halevi quotes a Muslim friend saying: There are enough politicians in the land of the prophets. But where are the prophets in the land of the prophets? Prophets arise when there is real, hungry openness to the healing Word of God; perhaps things have to be very dark indeed for such a hunger to be felt. But we look to One who is more than a prophet, who has cleared the way for us not just back to Eden but forward to the new city, new Jerusalem, in which the nation are healed and strangers live gratefully together. This Land was touched by God so that it would be forever a sign of our hope for the commonwealth of heaven. The gates are open. Let us with Jesus prepare to go through, to walk with him to his cross and his resurrection.