Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, "Do you call yourself free? I want to hear your ruling idea, and not that you have escaped from a yoke." In thinking about this statement, I understand what it's like to have escaped from a yoke, and how that escape can at least initially feel like freedom. I also understand the longing for freedom that a "ruling idea" can create. But, with apologies to Nietzsche, the presence of this ruling idea is not only insufficient proof of freedom, it in itself can become another yoke entirely, moving us from the tyranny of one type of domination to another.
The religious system in which I grew up and today now serve as a minister, is part of the Christian faith (the Church of God, based in Cleveland, Tennessee). Somehow, probably not intentionally, that system managed to turn a ruling idea into a yoke. Even worse than that, this ruling idea/yoke over time became this system's primary reason for being, having replaced the God to which it claimed allegiance with a single attribute of how He operates, or at least their opinion of how He operates, and even then, probably managing to be off-base about that very attribute. After over a century of existence, this system continues to hold to this ruling idea so tightly that it is willing to do whatever it thinks necessary to either keep its members in line (or in yoke) where the ruling idea is concerned, or to remove those members who are willing to either question or suggest that there needs to be a re-thinking of the ruling idea.
This is currently happening to a man with whom I have been acquainted for most of my life, and with whom I worked a few years ago. He's been a pastor in this particular faith system for quite a long time now, and has spent almost the last 33 years at the same church in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which in itself is a pretty uncommon thing, especially in our tribe. He's a bit different than many pastors in our tribe in that he is influenced by thinking beyond our tribe's rather narrow, provincial approach to the faith. This has caused him to be celebrated by some, scorned by others. But, he has always made it clear that the tribe to which he belongs is the tribe to which he wants to belong. It's his tribe, and he's glad to be part of it. You would think this would count for something, but evidently not. He's currently being accused of "doctrinal infidelity" (I think they mean heresy) over the fact he has dared question whether the ruling idea is something we should re-think, or at least allow room for some additional thinking on the subject. It's embarrassing to even admit what all this fuss is about, but here goes: it's all about speaking in tongues.
There you go. This man's entire life's work, as well as his standing in his denomination, not to mention his livelihood, is being put at risk over a disagreement about tongues. This might even be funny if it weren't so completely pathetic and terrifying. And the craziest thing about it is that the pastor to whom I'm referring believes in speaking in tongues! He just happens to have a different take on it than the ones who consider themselves the keepers of the yoke/ruling idea have. We're way past theology or doctrine here kids. We're way past dogma. We are now in the land of the cultish and the dangerous. Very dangerous.
It's important to point out that although I've known this pastor for some time, and even though we used to work together, the passion of my post doesn't stem from the fact I have a deep friendship with him. The time that I worked with him was difficult at best, and the aftermath of having worked with him has been equally difficult. The last time we spoke was well over a year ago, and that was strained and uncomfortable. I'm not speaking out because a friend is being targeted. I'm speaking out because this is wrong...this is ridiculous...this is not the way of Christ! Furthermore, if they can gut him over this, they can certainly do it to someone like myself who refuses to be identified by the labels and the doctrinal stances so many keepers of the yoke insist on. I told a friend who's in the same faith tribe just this week that the time to stand up and speak up about things like this has come. So, I guess I'm following my own advice.
In a recent conversation with another friend about this issue, I told him, "how ironic would it be if after all these decades of our denomination elevating speaking in tongues, the thing that brought about its end was a fight over speaking in tongues?" How ironic. How sad. If these keepers of the ruling idea do in fact take this particular Chattanooga pastor down, I am fully confident that he will find a way to overcome what they've done to him and he will do his best to move forward. For those who will have done this to him, it is my sincere hope that the weight of the very yoke they insist the members of the tribe live under will crush them and their idolatrous ways. They know nothing of freedom and seem to want no one else to either. But, freedom is neither a yoke or an idea.
And where the Spirit is, there is freedom.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Finished
It's finished. I wish I could tell you what "it" is, but I can't just yet. That's another month away. For now though, let it suffice that it has been in the works for quite a long time, long before I actually began working on it, before I even knew what it was. It had been working on and in me for years, just waiting for me to finally get to the place where I could recognize it for what it is, as well as understand that it's time had come. Or maybe my time had come. Either way, it was time for it.
These past few years have heavily influenced the beginning and completion of it, but I realize now that my whole life has been helping to form this time and this project. You know how you have that small, hidden space down inside that says maybe, just maybe I could someday do this thing or that thing, but there's also that other space in you, maybe not as hidden or small that keeps wanting to tell you all you will never do. This time, the small space won.
Here's to hoping yours does too.
These past few years have heavily influenced the beginning and completion of it, but I realize now that my whole life has been helping to form this time and this project. You know how you have that small, hidden space down inside that says maybe, just maybe I could someday do this thing or that thing, but there's also that other space in you, maybe not as hidden or small that keeps wanting to tell you all you will never do. This time, the small space won.
Here's to hoping yours does too.
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Prophet
He was someone who was on television a lot, but a person who so many people in my world seemed to dislike, maybe even hate. He didn't seem like a guy who needed to be hated, but hatred was one of the things that followed him around. He was a black preacher from Atlanta who spent a lot of time talking about freedom and rights, about justice and equality. The preachers of my culture just talked about sin, how angry God was with most of us, and how we all couldn't wait to get out of this world and into the next one...where we could have one long, never-ending church service. Welcome to Heaven.
But this black preacher from Atlanta seemed to have an idea that God might just be a bit more interested in the here and now than my preachers thought He was. All the preachers from my world were white, however, so that made the black preacher wrong, maybe even not a true follower of God. The South in the 60's. What a wasteland. Tons of religion, little to no righteousness.
Someone (or a group of them, depending on which conspiracy school you belong to) finally shut the black preacher from Atlanta down on a Memphis motel balcony in '68, but not before he had stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on a sweltering August day in '63 and told the audience, the nation, and the world that he had a dream. It was a dream that was meant for "all God's children," and it sounded kind of like some of the words Jesus used, but those words were typically overlooked by the preachers of my world. Freedom for the captive....good news for the poor, stuff like that. He stood there that day in '63 and called a nation, the world really, to return to true humanity, where we each are valued and each of us matter because all of us matter.
His words that day inspired millions, both that day and the days that immediately followed, as well as in the years to follow. The inspired ones included the man from Texas who occupied the White House at the time, later a young rock band from the north side of Dublin who sang about all that he did in the name of love, as well as a young preacher's son who grew up in the unrighteous South of the 60's...me.
Today we remember that black Atlanta preacher, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and all that he meant and means to us. And tomorrow in Washington, D.C., we will remember that his dream continues, as a man becomes president who would have never had a chance at it had Dr. King never dared to dream and then dare to share that dream with the rest of us. Tomorrow will be a great day, and I have to believe that on that hot August day in '63, the black preacher from Atlanta saw it. Had he shared with us then what he saw waiting for us tommorrow, I'm sure we would have all said he was crazy, but then we tend to respond that way to most prophets.
But this black preacher from Atlanta seemed to have an idea that God might just be a bit more interested in the here and now than my preachers thought He was. All the preachers from my world were white, however, so that made the black preacher wrong, maybe even not a true follower of God. The South in the 60's. What a wasteland. Tons of religion, little to no righteousness.
Someone (or a group of them, depending on which conspiracy school you belong to) finally shut the black preacher from Atlanta down on a Memphis motel balcony in '68, but not before he had stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on a sweltering August day in '63 and told the audience, the nation, and the world that he had a dream. It was a dream that was meant for "all God's children," and it sounded kind of like some of the words Jesus used, but those words were typically overlooked by the preachers of my world. Freedom for the captive....good news for the poor, stuff like that. He stood there that day in '63 and called a nation, the world really, to return to true humanity, where we each are valued and each of us matter because all of us matter.
His words that day inspired millions, both that day and the days that immediately followed, as well as in the years to follow. The inspired ones included the man from Texas who occupied the White House at the time, later a young rock band from the north side of Dublin who sang about all that he did in the name of love, as well as a young preacher's son who grew up in the unrighteous South of the 60's...me.
Today we remember that black Atlanta preacher, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and all that he meant and means to us. And tomorrow in Washington, D.C., we will remember that his dream continues, as a man becomes president who would have never had a chance at it had Dr. King never dared to dream and then dare to share that dream with the rest of us. Tomorrow will be a great day, and I have to believe that on that hot August day in '63, the black preacher from Atlanta saw it. Had he shared with us then what he saw waiting for us tommorrow, I'm sure we would have all said he was crazy, but then we tend to respond that way to most prophets.
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Current
Almost 2 years since my last post here. There are lots of reasons for that, some of which include the intensity of life, my own internal struggles, as well as the general feeling that I might not have anything to say. I've actually had to lots to say, and I guess I've said some of it, just not here. Anyway, what's been said or hasn't been said doesn't matter much at this point.
My last post here came after sitting on the bank of the Mississippi in Minneapolis on a Sunday afternoon, taking in all the life being lived around me, as well as the life I was living at the time. A lot of living has happened since, just not the kind I really wanted to participate in. But, lived in it and through it I have, and just like the current of the Mississippi that presented itself to me that April day, my own current has continued to move and to take me where I needed to go, even if I haven't always agreed with where it's taken me, or where it has me right now.
I just recently finished a project (more on that in March) that required me to think a great deal about standing, about moving and about how this river called life refuses to cooperate with my occasional complacency, fear or desire that all my dreams and goals just fall into place for me, and that they all fall into place NOW. I realize this sounds very simple, but I think most of life is...I didn't say easy, but simple. Life is simply about choices, the choices we make about both our opportunities and our challenges, as well as the choices we make about our responses when our initial choices don't necessarily work out the way we intended or hoped that they would. Maybe those choices make up the current to which I'm referring, the things that take us to previously uninhabited places. These are the places we could not have seen and experienced without stepping into the current that responds to our choices, but that isn't governed by them. My journey on this river is an outcome of how I've responded to the amazing opportunities and the crushing disappointments that have met me at an earlier spot along the river.
So, 2 years later I continue to watch the river do what only it can do and I continue to be moved by it and down it. So much has happened since that day in Minneapolis and so much hasn't happened. I have experienced many things I didn't expect or want, and I continue to wait on things that I am convinced are way overdue. But, I am in the current. I continue the journey along the river that changes everything. I am alive.
My last post here came after sitting on the bank of the Mississippi in Minneapolis on a Sunday afternoon, taking in all the life being lived around me, as well as the life I was living at the time. A lot of living has happened since, just not the kind I really wanted to participate in. But, lived in it and through it I have, and just like the current of the Mississippi that presented itself to me that April day, my own current has continued to move and to take me where I needed to go, even if I haven't always agreed with where it's taken me, or where it has me right now.
I just recently finished a project (more on that in March) that required me to think a great deal about standing, about moving and about how this river called life refuses to cooperate with my occasional complacency, fear or desire that all my dreams and goals just fall into place for me, and that they all fall into place NOW. I realize this sounds very simple, but I think most of life is...I didn't say easy, but simple. Life is simply about choices, the choices we make about both our opportunities and our challenges, as well as the choices we make about our responses when our initial choices don't necessarily work out the way we intended or hoped that they would. Maybe those choices make up the current to which I'm referring, the things that take us to previously uninhabited places. These are the places we could not have seen and experienced without stepping into the current that responds to our choices, but that isn't governed by them. My journey on this river is an outcome of how I've responded to the amazing opportunities and the crushing disappointments that have met me at an earlier spot along the river.
So, 2 years later I continue to watch the river do what only it can do and I continue to be moved by it and down it. So much has happened since that day in Minneapolis and so much hasn't happened. I have experienced many things I didn't expect or want, and I continue to wait on things that I am convinced are way overdue. But, I am in the current. I continue the journey along the river that changes everything. I am alive.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Minneapolis
Every 5 1/2 months I come to Minneapolis to do on-campus work at Bethel University for the graduate school program in which I'm enrolled. Until October of 2005, I'd never been to Minnesota. I'm now in the middle of my fourth trip here. Every time I come to the Twin Cities, I fall even more in love with the place. This trip has been no exception.
Since there are too many great things about this city to mention here, I'll just give you a brief look at what today has been like for me. It's Sunday, and the weather has been beautiful all weekend. The four of us (the other three guys I room with and myself comprise a group known as "The IR-Reverends." Trust me, it would require far too much explanation and disclosure), got up and walked down the block to get coffee at Dunn Brothers. Since we stay right in the heart of downtown Minneapolis, the walk to Dunn Bros. is always a great experience. Today was no exception. Dunn's is a chain in this area, and the one close by us is one of the more relaxing places you'll find. We had some great conversation about old TV shows we love (Crockett and Tubbs rule) and then the three of them took off for a park. After some errands, I set up shop with a book and the newpaper at the Nicollet Island Pavillion and began to let my heart, mind and soul be fed. I sat right on the bank of the Mississippi River with the skyline of Minneapolis in front of me, and was nearly overcome with how amazingly blessed I am to have been given the gift of this city. It brings something to life in me that just doesn't get tapped into back in Tennessee. I don't know what that is, but I know it's great to experience it.
The truth is, that's not even half of the what has made this day so great. And, the day continues. Our good friend from Chicago, Mike Johnson, just showed up at our hotel with enough food to feed an army, so the good times roll on. I wish you were here. I wish ALL of you were here. Wherever you are, my wish for you is that you have truly experienced and celebrated being alive today. Got to go now. There's life to be lived.
Since there are too many great things about this city to mention here, I'll just give you a brief look at what today has been like for me. It's Sunday, and the weather has been beautiful all weekend. The four of us (the other three guys I room with and myself comprise a group known as "The IR-Reverends." Trust me, it would require far too much explanation and disclosure), got up and walked down the block to get coffee at Dunn Brothers. Since we stay right in the heart of downtown Minneapolis, the walk to Dunn Bros. is always a great experience. Today was no exception. Dunn's is a chain in this area, and the one close by us is one of the more relaxing places you'll find. We had some great conversation about old TV shows we love (Crockett and Tubbs rule) and then the three of them took off for a park. After some errands, I set up shop with a book and the newpaper at the Nicollet Island Pavillion and began to let my heart, mind and soul be fed. I sat right on the bank of the Mississippi River with the skyline of Minneapolis in front of me, and was nearly overcome with how amazingly blessed I am to have been given the gift of this city. It brings something to life in me that just doesn't get tapped into back in Tennessee. I don't know what that is, but I know it's great to experience it.
The truth is, that's not even half of the what has made this day so great. And, the day continues. Our good friend from Chicago, Mike Johnson, just showed up at our hotel with enough food to feed an army, so the good times roll on. I wish you were here. I wish ALL of you were here. Wherever you are, my wish for you is that you have truly experienced and celebrated being alive today. Got to go now. There's life to be lived.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
A good day
Last Friday, March 30, 2007, my grandfather died suddenly of a heart attack. His name was William Sterling Redman, Sr. Bill Redman. Papa. He went by a lot of names, but had pretty much the same identity with everyone. When you knew Bill, you knew a guy who was the same with everyone. A straight shooter, plain talker, always told it like he saw it, and most of the time the way he saw it was pretty much the way it was.
He was a World War II veteran, was married to the same woman for almost 70 years, built at least 3 successful businesses, lived to not only see his great-grand kids, but also his great-great-grandkids, and was still working at the age of 90. In fact, when he died last Friday, he was out working his job in Orlando, making deliveries for the Celebration company. He died like we all expected him to, on the job and immdediately. Most people didn't know that for years his heart had only operated at about 30% capacity, but he still went at it every day, up at 4:30 every morning, and out the door before 6:00. He had more energy and drive than a lot of people I know who are half his age. He had no quit in him, and lived life wide open, with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.
He was tough, demanding, honest, tender, funny and generous. He lived his faith in the best way I know how- fully human, without a bunch of useless or ridiculous crap that has nothing to do with being a person of faith. He was the same kind of man as is described in a recent John Mayer quote about Eric Clapton: "The man is absolutely bullshit-free." That was my grandfather.
Yesterday I stood over his casket before the funeral and put my hands on his and said the only words I could say, but they were also the only words I needed to say: "Thanks for everything." Later, at the Floriday National Cemetary where he was laid to rest with thousands of other American heroes, I stood between his casket and the people who had come to tell him goodbye and tried my best to honor my grandmother's request of saying the final words over him. Among a few other things, I said that were all thankful. Thankful for a life well-lived, for the long shadow he cast that we were all covered by, thankful for his humanity, and thankful to the God who gave him to us. We then gave him back to Him, full of thanks. It was a good day.
He was a World War II veteran, was married to the same woman for almost 70 years, built at least 3 successful businesses, lived to not only see his great-grand kids, but also his great-great-grandkids, and was still working at the age of 90. In fact, when he died last Friday, he was out working his job in Orlando, making deliveries for the Celebration company. He died like we all expected him to, on the job and immdediately. Most people didn't know that for years his heart had only operated at about 30% capacity, but he still went at it every day, up at 4:30 every morning, and out the door before 6:00. He had more energy and drive than a lot of people I know who are half his age. He had no quit in him, and lived life wide open, with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.
He was tough, demanding, honest, tender, funny and generous. He lived his faith in the best way I know how- fully human, without a bunch of useless or ridiculous crap that has nothing to do with being a person of faith. He was the same kind of man as is described in a recent John Mayer quote about Eric Clapton: "The man is absolutely bullshit-free." That was my grandfather.
Yesterday I stood over his casket before the funeral and put my hands on his and said the only words I could say, but they were also the only words I needed to say: "Thanks for everything." Later, at the Floriday National Cemetary where he was laid to rest with thousands of other American heroes, I stood between his casket and the people who had come to tell him goodbye and tried my best to honor my grandmother's request of saying the final words over him. Among a few other things, I said that were all thankful. Thankful for a life well-lived, for the long shadow he cast that we were all covered by, thankful for his humanity, and thankful to the God who gave him to us. We then gave him back to Him, full of thanks. It was a good day.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
My week
Most of us, including myself, are quick to tell others how lousy our day or our week has been. Not nearly often enough do we seek out people to tell them how well things have gone for us, how un-expectedly great our week has been, etc. I'm guilty of this. So, in the interest of full disclocure, let me tell you about how GREAT this past week was.
Since I started this new venture, no week has been as important than the week we just finished. I knew going into the week that it had the potential to be very strategic for me. I just had no idea it would turn out to be even more than I had hoped it would be. It was a week full of important meetings with people who have a good deal of influence and connections, and I must admit I was nervous over how the meetings would go. They were all positive, productive and even more than that. By the time I wrapped up my final meetings on Friday, my head was almost spinning from the un-expected things that had come my way, as well as the new possibilities that had presented themselves, none of which I had anticipated.
Everything I'm referring to is still in the very earliest of stages, so I can't lay out the specifics of things, but it is safe to say that if even a little bit of what came my way last week happens, things for The Leadership Group & FutureLife are going to be very good. After my last post, where I wrote about having experienced a week of some real challenge and pain, I thought it was only right to tell you about a week of encouragement, hope and promise. God knows we could all use more of that. Don't be afraid to tell your good stories as well. There aren't nearly enough of them being told.
Since I started this new venture, no week has been as important than the week we just finished. I knew going into the week that it had the potential to be very strategic for me. I just had no idea it would turn out to be even more than I had hoped it would be. It was a week full of important meetings with people who have a good deal of influence and connections, and I must admit I was nervous over how the meetings would go. They were all positive, productive and even more than that. By the time I wrapped up my final meetings on Friday, my head was almost spinning from the un-expected things that had come my way, as well as the new possibilities that had presented themselves, none of which I had anticipated.
Everything I'm referring to is still in the very earliest of stages, so I can't lay out the specifics of things, but it is safe to say that if even a little bit of what came my way last week happens, things for The Leadership Group & FutureLife are going to be very good. After my last post, where I wrote about having experienced a week of some real challenge and pain, I thought it was only right to tell you about a week of encouragement, hope and promise. God knows we could all use more of that. Don't be afraid to tell your good stories as well. There aren't nearly enough of them being told.
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