What is Faith?

Hebrews 11:1 gives a straightforward answer: Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.  But is faith all about convincing ourselves of the reality of things we can't see?  Too often modern Christians hear the second half of this verse, and neglect the two critical words in the first half: assurance, and hope.

I'm continuing to contemplate the idea that there may be no real gap between the Divine Reality (God) and the human reality (us).  God does not have to bridge an infinite distance to reach us, and we are not forever alienated from the Source of our Being. (see previous post) If that's true, however, then it has implications for how we define "faith."

Mind the Gap

On my first trip to London I noticed the very helpful signs that were posted in useful places.  "Look Right" appears at crosswalks so that pedestrians check one last time for oncoming traffic.  And on train platforms the message "Mind the Gap" keeps passengers from slipping a foot into the space between the platform and the train itself.

While contemplating the ancient story of Christ's birth over the past few days, however, a very different application of the phrase, "mind the gap," came to mind.  The whole point of the Incarnation, the whole reason why God sent His Son, as it was taught to me for many years, was to reach across an unbridgeable gulf between God and humanity, and close the gap Himself.  In the same way, the purpose of the crucifixion was so that Christ could pay a debt, our debt, that we could not pay on our own.  Both of these interpretations suggest a separation between God and God's beloved human community that has never made sense to me.

An Advent Meditation on Justice

 What follows is an Advent meditation which was shared today with my brothers and sisters in the Lindisfarne Community.  May it be a blessing to others.

Brothers and Sisters,

Many of us are deeply troubled by the violence in our streets.  Race, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, class, even religion, all the things we thought back in the 60s and 70s that we'd confronted and named and faced down seem to be roaring back with a vengeance to divide God's beloved children into warring camps. And yet, the very word, religion, comes from a root that means to bind back together what has been separated.

Returning to the Core

Sure is a busy semester!

How can I tell?  I've only managed to post once each month since September, and it won't get any better over the next month or so.  But that doesn't mean that there hasn't been plenty happening!

Back in September I shared a story about a cosmic 2 x 4, and the resulting understanding that there is an Indestructible Core within me that is God-given, and keeps me safe. And while I've been busy with school work and writing, more has been happening with that image of the Core and what it signifies.

Something Bigger than Oneself

There's been a lot of talk in the media lately about how ISIS is recruiting young men and women from Western countries, young adults who are searching for some meaning in their lives.  They are reportedly searching for "something bigger than themselves" with which to be affiliated, to live for, and to die for.  What they are gravitating to is a 10-cent version of Islam, but while they may perceive their quest to be a religious one, ISIS does not appear to preach any form of Islam that the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, would recognize.

The Indestructible Core

Has anyone else ever received the spiritual blow to your head, or heart, or ego, the one that turns everything upside down?  It's happened to me a couple of times, and I sometimes call it the "cosmic 2 x 4," it can hit that hard.

This one was completely unexpected.  A few weeks ago. the wonderful Elizabeth Gilbert posted a quick exchange from a recent interview onto her Facebook page.  At a public event, an attendee walked to the microphone and asked, "What do you know more than anything?" 

Back to School

It's September, and for us students and teachers, that means getting back to the work of teaching and learning.  For the past several years I have actively been and done both things, teaching in a small college as an adjunct assistant professor in Religious Studies, as well as crafting my doctoral dissertation on three texts that tell the stories of early medieval Celtic (and one Anglo-Saxon) saints.  Both endeavors are stimulating and inspiring, both get my intellectual juices flowing. And what's particularly fascinating is that in both settings I find, in Wesley's words, my heart strangely warmed.