Faith Works 9-26-15

Faith Works 9-26-15

Jeff Gill

 

Authority is the answer, what is the question?
___

 

Sometimes, I have two different thoughts at the same time.

 

I like Coke and I like Pepsi. Not often, usually not either, but if I'm thirsty in the right way, I'm intrigued by either.

 

There's something about classical music, like Aaron Copland's "Appalachian Spring," that makes me remember why I like bluegrass so much.  And vice versa.

 

All of my life, I've been a Protestant sort of Christian, growing up in the congregational tradition in which I minister today, living a town filled with Lutherans of a very protesting sort; yet the larger Chicago region in which we were set made me aware of archbishops and cardinals and just to my west was the high holy place of South Bend, Indiana and Touchdown Jesus. Notre Dame is just a little Catholic, you know.

 

So I relate to the attraction of having a Pope, even though the office and authority is foreign to most of what I've ever known personally in church life. Johns and Pauls and John Pauls were always in doorways and on dining room walls of friends' homes and Catholic churches are not unfamiliar to me.

 

And I'm used to, if disconcerted by, the deep-seated antipathy many Protestant folk, even clergy, have towards the Catholic church and the Papacy. There's a harsh side to this tension, rooted in the Klan's popularity in my own Indiana and right here in Ohio during the 1920s, a Klan that was as aimed at Catholics as it was at other minority groups. They preached a form of nativism, with the occasional collaboration of Protestant churches, that continues to be, apparently, the last form of acceptable bigotry for some otherwise educated people.

 

My friend Monsignor Paul Enke, when he had me help lead a series of devotional evenings at St. Edward's Parish in Granville, enjoyed pointing out as we went into the church building for the Stations of the Cross that they have no basement, so there can't be a tunnel to the Vatican, or a cache of guns hidden beneath the altar. The irony is that my own middle name comes from a political candidate a mere century ago who was willing to run for the presidency with support of the chant "Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion!" about the supposed unfaithfulness of Catholicism to American values: there really were people claiming tunnels to Rome or munitions for sedition.

 

This week we have seen much of the United States joyfully celebrating the visit of a pontiff to these shores for what is, for he who was Jorge Bergoglio, his first time in our county. Now Pope Francis, the Vicar of Christ and Bishop of Rome is coming to the US as the leader of Vatican City-State, and the chief priest of Roman Catholic Christians around the world.

 

There's much confusion among Protestants, let alone Catholics, as well as non-Christian folk, about how a Pope is "infallible." Infallibility is not a doctrine that says whatever any fellow elected "Il Papa" says is always true, it is a refinement of the teaching authority of the Roman Catholic Church that says when a Pontiff speaks "ex cathedra," from their authoritative role as a teacher of the faith, those statements will not lead the faithful astray.

 

You can call that belief a leap of faith in its own right, but it's certainly not a blanket validation of any comment a Pope makes as divine truth. He can mess up, just not when he issues a considered and official teaching on behalf of Christ's church, and for the guidance of the faithful. That's a teaching "from the official chair," or in Latin, "ex cathedra."

 

In fact, that's not far off of what is understood by believing Mormons about  their chief executive, the President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church). Thomas Monson is understood to be a "prophet, seer, and revelator," but that doesn't mean any comment he makes is to be taken as divine writ, but his official declarations are to be accepted as true and normative for believers.

 

As a Protestant Christian myself, I plan to listen closely to what Pope Francis has to say. His authority does not govern me, not officially, but I believe it is only gracious to hear him out, and to consider what he has to say about the faith we affirm, together.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; tell him what sources of authority speak to you at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

Notes From My Knapsack 10-8-15

Notes From My Knapsack 10-8-15

Jeff Gill

 

My political position

___

 

We're heading into the Cuisinart phase of our national electoral process, with the purée setting coming next spring. My own political recipe is as follows:

 

1.) I think you should vote. I believe voting is a meaningful activity, both in a practical & symbolic fashion. The meaning you derive from it is directly in ratio to the amount of care & effort you put into making that act.

 

2.) I think you should be involved in your local political process. This is not just putting up yard signs. Go to school board or village council meetings, even when you don't have a fox in that particular hunt. Do some public service, whether electoral (running for office) or volunteer (serving on a municipal or district panel by appointment), or supportive (clean-ups, set-ups, voting official, or even just serving on a jury without whining about it).

 

3.) I think the more local the election, the more important your vote, and you should think and discuss and act with that in mind. I believe it is not anywhere nearly as significant whom you vote for in the presidential election as it is when you vote for village council, school board, county commissioner, or state representative and the like.

 

4.) I think you should pick a party, and speak up in it as well as through it. To some degree, I don't care which; with respect, much of what passes for "I'm an independent" is really just "I can't be bothered." There are honorable exceptions, and I'm always willing to believe you are one, but generally, I think we all know there is no perfect fit for anyone. Just decide on some key principals you adhere to, vote in a primary (that's all it takes to "join" a party anyhow), and find a way to express both where you agree, and where you disagree. GOP, Dem, Green, Democratic Socialist, Libertarian -- none of those will fit you perfectly, I'm certain. But pick one, and push it.

 

5.) I think kindness & compassion are political values that can be expressed through the body politic, within the commonweal. The fact that arguably neither are much in evidence now does not mean you can't try to find and affirm a path to those two values through the political process.

 

6.) We will not agree on the shortest path to those principals, even if you share #5 with me. But if we keep the end in mind, the way ahead can be seen, in outline, and we can get closer to those goals even by different lines of approach.

 

7.) Politically, I am by nature a Mugwump. I will often find myself with my mug on one side of a fence and my wump on the other. Shouts of RINO & DINO are not going to move me from my fencerow. Sometimes the view up here ain't bad.

 

8.) Much of what passes for political discourse in this great land of ours today is actually maneuvering & manipulation by those with and/or in power to hold onto it, or powerful forces with access to money & media to gain further benefit for themselves under the cover of claiming the public's benefit. When I or anyone else calls out such behavior, it is neither a repudiation of anything I said above in this list, nor is it even an absolute rejection of a particular candidate or party when implicated in such behavior. That possibility was anticipated by the prescient Mr. Madison in his checks & balances built into the foundation level of this country; and corruption, whether mild, venial, or comprehensive is not a sign that the entire American Experiment is failed. It just needs more variables controlled for before the next run, and that's what elections are for.

 

9.) If you get involved on a nuts & bolts basis in your community political life, you may be surprised what that activity does to your political positions. Sometimes, the view from close up is clearer than the perspective from your sofa. Get up and come see.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; tell him your partisan non-negotiables at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

 

 

Notes From My Knapsack 9-24-15

Notes From My Knapsack 9-24-15

Jeff Gill

 

Making a list, checking it twice

___

 

Apparently Granville has made some lists.

 

They are provoking some discussion, and perhaps more in line with the list-makers' intentions, causing some clicks on websites you'd never heard of. Nicely played, internet.

 

We're beautiful, and we're snobby. Or in the top ten of those categories. Perhaps.

 

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and so is snobbery. We moved here the last week of 2004, and I have yet to run into snobbery. A little provincialism, but you can get that in Newark or Hebron or Buckeye Lake. No, I'm not from here, and effectively speaking never will be (when I lived in West Virginia, after my son was born, another non-native said to me at a party "Jeff, our kids will never be from here – I think it takes three generations for that to count"). But we've always felt included.

 

I think Norwich is beautiful, and Somerset, but I never see them on lists like this. Size, no doubt, and proximity to major traffic plays a role in these lists. Mount Pleasant is a refreshing surprise up above the Ohio Valley, and there's a small town up near Bowling Green I got routed through on a highway detour years ago I'd like to get back to when I can stop. Milan is delightful and often overlooked, almost due north of us but on the road to nowhere.

 

Granville probably deserves to be on lists that don't include us, or maybe it's more the case that some lists haven't been made yet that should be.

 

Top Ten villages where residents know how to pack a picnic basket for outdoor concerts: the summer GRC offerings on the Fine Arts Quad are always eclectic and enjoyable, with the enjoyment not always tied to the quality of the music. The fun is in seeing how people refresh themselves on their blankets and lawn chair clusters. Granville knows how to do this, whether it's fruit snacks and string cheese or paté and a nice Riesling.

 

Top Ten Fourth of July parades: I mean, c'mon. Why hasn't someone done this list, and why wouldn't we be on it? It's awesome. Even the politicians at the front are fun, and this year, one of them came back to the end to help me with the shovels trailing the horseback units (hat tip, Scott Ryan!). We may not have Rose Parade level floats, but as Linus would say about his pumpkin patch: they're the most sincere.

 

Speaking of pumpkins: Top Ten downtown Hallowe'en celebrations! Ours are entirely unofficial, door-to-door, indigenously originated, good fun festivities. Even the older kids know the boundaries (mostly) and enjoy their shaving cream finale with good cheer and exuberant high spirits.

 

Top Ten Christmas season observances: the Granville Candlelight Walking Tour, first Saturday of December, is awesome and delightful even when it's warm and not snowing. Candles, choirs, candy, carriages. When a gentle fall of flakes drape the luminary lit landscape (hat tip, Troop 65!), it is magical. 'Nuff said.

 

Top Ten Autumn landscapes: it's coming soon, and seriously, who can top us? College Hill's glories crowning the Broadway streetscape, the golden tunnel of Newark-Granville Road from Cherry Valley Road to Clear Run, the full fall spectrum across the Welsh Hills seen from Piper Stadium at a Denison football game. There's nowhere quite as beautiful as Granville from every angle in the height of autumn.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; tell him what top ten list you'd put Granville on at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

Faith Works 9-19-15

Faith Works 9-19-15

Jeff Gill

 

Disruption and healing

___

 

One of the critical roles of faith communities for members is to be a stable presence in the midst of disruption.

 

Disruption can be as disturbing as a death, or as simple as a change in plans. And on a personal level, some people take a major crisis in stride, but are completely dismantled by a minor setback.

 

There are personal blows that hit an individual where it matters: job loss, a car crash, the death of a pet. And there are family impacts that shake each member a little differently: a move, the moving of neighbors (and the arrival of new ones), major milestones like a graduation that changes relationships all through the family system.

 

In the mainstream Christian tradition, the starting point is God. God was and is and will be; from God as creator all things were made, and anything that is to come finds a resting place in God's purposes. As redeemer, in Christ all people find hope and promise for a future with God forever; through the Holy Spirit, all creation is sustained moment by moment by moment.

 

Jesus said "For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst," (Mt. 18:20 NASB) and it's that confidence that God is present, and caring, in which a ministry of presence becomes so important.

 

We can add elements to that ministry of presence: casseroles, a sliced ham, cards and flowers. Candy is usually pretty nice, too. (Sugar free for diabetics!) But they're simply tools to help us in visiting, and to maintain the memory of that act of presence, as outward expressions of what's usually most important inwardly for all concerned: you were there. You took the time, you showed up, you cared enough to call or write.

 

Someone else being present in the midst of that moment or place of disruption is the most effective reminder of that spiritual truth Jesus stated, when he said "in coming together, you bring me into the picture" (Mt. 18:20, Jeff's paraphrase).

 

People know you can't change the reasons we all came to the hospital, it's understood that the moving van is getting loaded pretty much no matter what anyone says, in prayer or personally, but your being present is a reference point, a solid place to stand in your mind and heart, when everything around feels like it's turning into broken glass.

 

Clergy are expected to be more at ease, and more reassuring in their demeanor, in a hospital or nursing home or scene of crisis. We've got special training, most of us, and generally more experience than the average person in standing on the edge of chaos. There are words to say, and prayers to offer, and scriptures to share . . . we each have our own preferred tool kit of those close at hand, in mind, ready to use . . . but there is so often nothing to say but to stretch out an arm, offer a hug, to shake a hand and offer up oftimes no more than a sympathetic look without words.

 

Prayers are usually very welcome, in any case.

 

But there are also those situations where, whether minister or lay leader, friend from church or neighbor with good intentions, you come into a circumstance and quickly feel that you're not where you're wanted. It happens. Some folks want, and perhaps many of us at certain times, to have our space and silence to ourselves. If you sense that you're not welcome, it can be as much of a pastoral gift to gracefully back away. Even then, I believe there's a blessing to simply have let someone know you showed up, and that since it's not about you anyhow, it's okay for you to go.

 

Because that's really the power of presence in those situations. If it's about you, then the expectations and the blessings are about you, and that's usually not the case. You're there to represent and embody and open up the connection to the One who will be there even after you go, and sooner or later, you will go.

 

Make sure you leave room for God to show up with you, because it's God you want to leave behind.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; tell him about how you've offered the ministry of presence in your care for others at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

 

Faith Works 9-12-15

Faith Works 9-12-15

Jeff Gill

 

2-1-1 and when things just don't fit

___

 

Depression is a funny thing.

 

Not funny ha-ha. But you can be depressed, deeply depressed, even clinically depressed, and still laugh. It rings hollow inside your own head, but it's not that difficult to keep up the appearances.

 

It's funny, it's odd, it's downright strange how depression can creep up on you, like a slowly developing storm cloud, going from a lovely day to gloom and darkness without your noticing until the rain starts to fall. Depression can come on like distant thunder, or a sudden clap of lightning out of a blue sky. It comes in like the tide, except when it's a tidal wave that barely gives notice that the beach beneath your feet will disappear beneath you, the sky coming down with a roar. We all know a death, a loss, the end of a relationship or job can trigger it, but when your psyche is thrown off balance, you can be pitched into a serious depression by the cancellation of a TV show or the distant assassination of a foreign dictator.

 

Scientists and doctors keep investigating depression. It has a biochemical component, your internal chemistry and flow of hormones pulling you down one way, your sugar and sodium and potassium tugging in another, and somewhere in there are the key compounds that turn a mood into a crisis.

 

Head injuries can cause depression. Stroke. Surgery, even successful surgery. Addiction certainly doesn't help, especially to substances that are themselves "depressants," but any addictive behavior can dance the mournful gavotte of a depressive episode.

 

It's not your fault any more than a broken hip is your fault; yes, you left that bowling ball bag out in the hallway and tripped over it, but who would say to you on the ground, or in the squad, or at the hospital, "Hey, that broken bone is your fault!"

 

Depression, when it becomes serious, when it gets severe, is isolating, disrupting and desolating. Hope that seems obvious to someone sitting right next to you is invisible to you. And solutions get twisted, warped, confused at best and suicidal at worst.

 

Maybe you've called 2-1-1 to get information about a social service, or to find a phone number for a program you or a friend needs. Pathways of Central Ohio has been known as the Crisis Center and the Suicide Hotline and a number of names they may never even have actually had, but they're not only still at 740-345-HELP (4357), they and their Crisis Hotline and Information & Referral Services can be reached simply by calling 2-1-1.

 

If you have someone you're worried about, you can call 2-1-1 for support and guidance. Clergy and professionals, that means you, too. We don't know everything, and the folks at Pathways answering those 2-1-1 calls have access to pretty much everything, plus training that can come in handy when you're feeling overwhelmed by someone's need.

 

When there's a weapon at hand, an active threat or you think someone's taken something to hurt themselves, you still call 9-1-1. That's basic. But if you need to talk, you need to talk to someone about how to talk to someone else, and as anyone is trying to figure out how to get help, 2-1-1 is ready and waiting.

 

In Licking County, this summer has been bracketed by two high-profile, much-discussed suicides. In late May, a pastor, and as August ended, a student leader in college. Both were people who gave help to others, who knew something about where to find help, and had gotten basic training in knowing when sadness was turning into depression, and what to do about it. Knowing that even those sorts of people were vulnerable to the worst depression can do to a person is shocking, even scary to the rest of us.

 

We have to keep saying to each other, over and over: it's okay to need help. It's fine to admit you're at the end of your rope. There are resources that can help you…can I make the call for you? There is no single, lasting solution to this, anymore than we can guarantee an end to broken hips. It takes awareness, understanding, and the ongoing willingness to affirm treatment and celebrate recovery.

 

For Seth, for Wendell, we keep reaching out to put our arms around each other, and to listen, and when necessary, to call for help.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he's called 2-1-1 before and will again! Tell him where you think we can help each other in our community at knapsack77@gmail.com