This quarter in VLI we will be studying church history, and I can hardly wait.
It's kind of ironic, but two of my Jewish friends know more about Christianity (in the intellectual sense) than most of my Christian friends do, and perhaps more than I do. For example, 'J', a Jewish co-worker, listened to a conversation about the movie 'The Passion', and mentioned that he didn't remember reading any references to Veronica in the gospels and asked where it was. At least I knew that answer to that one (no place!). But that pales besides a conversation we had the other day when he mentioned the split between the Roman Catholic church and the Greek Orthodox church due to the 'filioque' clause. Seeing my look of puzzlement he kindly explained that the issue concerned a disagreement over whether the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and from the Son (filioque), or only from the Father.
'J' is so quiet that you don't immediately notice how smart he is. But as you can guess, he gently and respectfully skewers me if I show any sloppiness in my reasoning, when we are discussing religious topics.
Since this is the break between quarters for VLI, I've started reading Constantine's Sword again (which he had lent to me). I mentioned to 'J' that I was finding it difficult reading, because there are a lot of generalizations about what Christians think and believe, that I just don't agree with. According to the author, the very premise of Christianity is rooted in anti-semitism, and Christianity finds its identity in opposing Judaism.
He seemed dubious of my protestations to the contrary, so I ended up quoting the VLI mantra to him ("all meaning is context dependent"), and explaining that I am being taught to try to put on a 1st century Jewish mindset in order to properly interpret the New Testament. That caught his attention, I believe, because it is different from what he expects of Christianity.
The big sticking point for him is that he sees Christianity as violating monotheism. So he deems it fundamentally impossible for a Jew to become a Christian. I had to agree that even though I believe that Christianity is monotheistic, it is hard to explain how the Trinity fits into this.
Oh no, I'd better wrap up now...I feel a discourse about 'filioque' coming on...
Thursday, June 17, 2004
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
concrete and weeds
I work in Long Island City.
It is gray.
When you look out the window, you could be seeing something in black and white film, except for the fleet of yellow taxicabs. I mentioned to a co-worker that it looks to me like a second-rate industrial city in an Eastern bloc country, and he thought for a moment and then agreed -- the only difference is that he has actually lived in those places, so he knows what he's talking about.
Anyway, on my way to work I was thinking about all the concrete, and noticing the vigor and persistence of the weeds growing by the sidewalk, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'm probably one of the few people in Long Island City who sees the pigweed and views it as a food object -- it's just the right age now, to lightly steam it, and serve it like spinach. And then I turned the corner and the weeds changed and I saw milkweed, and thought about cooking the milkweed pods.
And then I realized how far we've gotten from nature, because people assume I'm kidding if I mention that these weeds are edible. (It is true that the last time we ate the milkweed pods we got a bit stoned, but that's another story). And yesterday walking past the train station, I saw dark purple berries on the sidewalk and wondered if it was a mulberry tree.
It reminded me that God gives us good gifts all the time, but sometimes we don't notice. I bet someone could starve to death without realizing that edible plants were all around.
p.s. It's important to not eat pigweed that grows around fire hydrants, or other favorite dog places...
It is gray.
When you look out the window, you could be seeing something in black and white film, except for the fleet of yellow taxicabs. I mentioned to a co-worker that it looks to me like a second-rate industrial city in an Eastern bloc country, and he thought for a moment and then agreed -- the only difference is that he has actually lived in those places, so he knows what he's talking about.
Anyway, on my way to work I was thinking about all the concrete, and noticing the vigor and persistence of the weeds growing by the sidewalk, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'm probably one of the few people in Long Island City who sees the pigweed and views it as a food object -- it's just the right age now, to lightly steam it, and serve it like spinach. And then I turned the corner and the weeds changed and I saw milkweed, and thought about cooking the milkweed pods.
And then I realized how far we've gotten from nature, because people assume I'm kidding if I mention that these weeds are edible. (It is true that the last time we ate the milkweed pods we got a bit stoned, but that's another story). And yesterday walking past the train station, I saw dark purple berries on the sidewalk and wondered if it was a mulberry tree.
It reminded me that God gives us good gifts all the time, but sometimes we don't notice. I bet someone could starve to death without realizing that edible plants were all around.
p.s. It's important to not eat pigweed that grows around fire hydrants, or other favorite dog places...
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Sunday in the Nursing Home
Sunday I went to the nursing home, as usual. We go twice a month and lead a church service. This week was a little hard, because 'R' was out of town and so I was the only one there.
The aides were a little late wheeling people into the room, and at one point there was quite a commotion. 'L' was blocking the doorway like a stopper in a bottle, because she kept standing up, so the aide couldn't wheel her in.
She wanted to walk, but couldn't seem to quite remember how, so she would reach behind to steady herself on the arms of the chair, lean forward to walk, and then forget to move her feet. We were all afraid she would fall flat on the floor. The aide tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Other residents tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Then, feeling unsteady, she turned sideways to lean both hands on one arm of the chair. Now she was really stuck. She couldn't walk or sit, or go forwards or backwards.
The aide had left to bring other people in, and I was afraid 'L' was going to fall, so I went over to try to help. As soon as I got near, she roared again "NO". So I asked her "What do you want?" "I'm going to WALK!" she proclaimed. "If you want to walk, you need to face this way" So I oriented her facing forward, towards me, and suggested that she watch my feet, and take a step when she saw me take a step.
Suddenly, this determined old woman who was desperately trying to walk without moving her legs, took two big steps, aiming for my feet. Aiming Exactly for my feet. She ended up standing on top of my feet, like big toddler who is pretending to dance with her father. By this point, the bystanders were enjoying the show -- this was much more interesting than the sermon they had come to hear. We successfully took several steps (I even managed to reclaim my feet), and then she decided she had had enough, and sat down.
Then 'D' started calling for help. She is a sweet, tiny little lady, with huge insect-like eyes, who slides lower and lower in her wheelchair until she is afraid she will slide off. Her only prayer request is world peace. I don't know how to help her when she slides like this. I've seen the aide struggling with her before. It's like trying to nail jello. So when I saw another aide walk into the room, I called to him for help. He came over and gently lifted her back to her seat. Then he sweetly kissed her on the top of the head and asked if she was ok. I finally noticed that his nametag was marked 'building services' so he wasn't even a patient aide, but I watched in awe as he went up and down the row, greeting each one, giving a pat or a kiss or a word. Love in action. So real, so true, so heartfelt. Their faces lit up. He called them beautiful, and they were. He asked how they were feeling, and they felt better. He made them feel cherished and pretty. He was a big, strong, black janitor, and they were tiny, frail, old white ladies, and he made each of them feel like a princess.
I don't have a fraction of the love he showed. I asked if he could come back for the service; I asked if he could sing, anything just to keep him in the room. But he had to go. I really wanted to watch him in action. It's a special gift. I can show kindness and respect, with maybe a bit of love thrown in on a good day, but he has the capacity to make each person feel special.
The aides were a little late wheeling people into the room, and at one point there was quite a commotion. 'L' was blocking the doorway like a stopper in a bottle, because she kept standing up, so the aide couldn't wheel her in.
She wanted to walk, but couldn't seem to quite remember how, so she would reach behind to steady herself on the arms of the chair, lean forward to walk, and then forget to move her feet. We were all afraid she would fall flat on the floor. The aide tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Other residents tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Then, feeling unsteady, she turned sideways to lean both hands on one arm of the chair. Now she was really stuck. She couldn't walk or sit, or go forwards or backwards.
The aide had left to bring other people in, and I was afraid 'L' was going to fall, so I went over to try to help. As soon as I got near, she roared again "NO". So I asked her "What do you want?" "I'm going to WALK!" she proclaimed. "If you want to walk, you need to face this way" So I oriented her facing forward, towards me, and suggested that she watch my feet, and take a step when she saw me take a step.
Suddenly, this determined old woman who was desperately trying to walk without moving her legs, took two big steps, aiming for my feet. Aiming Exactly for my feet. She ended up standing on top of my feet, like big toddler who is pretending to dance with her father. By this point, the bystanders were enjoying the show -- this was much more interesting than the sermon they had come to hear. We successfully took several steps (I even managed to reclaim my feet), and then she decided she had had enough, and sat down.
Then 'D' started calling for help. She is a sweet, tiny little lady, with huge insect-like eyes, who slides lower and lower in her wheelchair until she is afraid she will slide off. Her only prayer request is world peace. I don't know how to help her when she slides like this. I've seen the aide struggling with her before. It's like trying to nail jello. So when I saw another aide walk into the room, I called to him for help. He came over and gently lifted her back to her seat. Then he sweetly kissed her on the top of the head and asked if she was ok. I finally noticed that his nametag was marked 'building services' so he wasn't even a patient aide, but I watched in awe as he went up and down the row, greeting each one, giving a pat or a kiss or a word. Love in action. So real, so true, so heartfelt. Their faces lit up. He called them beautiful, and they were. He asked how they were feeling, and they felt better. He made them feel cherished and pretty. He was a big, strong, black janitor, and they were tiny, frail, old white ladies, and he made each of them feel like a princess.
I don't have a fraction of the love he showed. I asked if he could come back for the service; I asked if he could sing, anything just to keep him in the room. But he had to go. I really wanted to watch him in action. It's a special gift. I can show kindness and respect, with maybe a bit of love thrown in on a good day, but he has the capacity to make each person feel special.
Don't despise small beginnings
Remember my post from last month about praying for Barney?
I was hoping that praying for the dog would open the door to praying for the humans. Well, I was really excited today to get a phone call from 'S', who said that he and his wife were planning to travel by plane next week, and she asked if I would pray for their safety, since Barney was doing so well.
It reminded me of what we learned in VLI in the courses on Church growth and Evangelism -- that people respond best when you address their felt needs.
I was hoping that praying for the dog would open the door to praying for the humans. Well, I was really excited today to get a phone call from 'S', who said that he and his wife were planning to travel by plane next week, and she asked if I would pray for their safety, since Barney was doing so well.
It reminded me of what we learned in VLI in the courses on Church growth and Evangelism -- that people respond best when you address their felt needs.