If we have faith at all, we must be witnesses of it. If we do not have enough conviction to share what we have felt, seen, experienced as faith then we are either selfish and don’t want to include others in the joy that we have found or we have found nothing and do not really have a faith at all. Our relationship with others can never be real if we fail to share that which is most meaningful to us.

It is a complicated reality to be a spontaneous person who plans everything. To set goals and know that there are steps required to get there. To always have a plan, but at the same time an awareness that nothing is ever really set in stone. We plan for almost anything, but we don’t know which plan we will use until the time comes. It sounds confusing, but that’s the problem with trying to understand another persons thought process or even to explain your own. It’s not about committing to things or not committing, but it does mean that we are responsive to the possibilities that present themselves. Life is a little like chess in that way. We make our move, but as we do we have to try to see every possible scenario of every move we make and every response plus our counter response until the game plays out. We anticipate as much as we can, but we can’t predict so we have multiple plans because life often changes which plan we end up using or even forces us to create a new plan.

If there is good to be found in everything, is there also evil? Are sin and evil the same thing? Matthew 7:11 “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” We tend to gloss over the, “though you are evil” part, but it actually speaks to us even more deeply about the need to seek and do good. There exists in every opportunity, in every choice the ability within our freewill that we have been given to choose evil, to choose good or to remain neutral and allow others and circumstance to choose for us. The fall of humankind in stories from all over the world is most often the result of the inability to resist temptation. That doesn’t always mean to choose evil, but in the case of the Biblical story it is actually the giving in to temptation which leads to the knowledge of what is good and what is evil and ultimately to the choice which would have to made from that point forward.

It’s not exactly tourist season in Washington DC, but as always there were plenty tour groups walking around DC today. The thing that was funny to me though was how underdressed I felt walking around in my jeans and coat, because even the tourists were wearing ties (I do have mine packed so I guess I will be prepared if I go into DC again, but that’s not why I’m here). I am always struck by the monumental (literally) sense of history that exists in DC. I have been to much older places in the world, but in places like Rome and Paris the cities have such a different feel as though their history is a part of them and it’s still alive but in DC it can feel awkward like the whole place is a museum. At the same time though it’s also where the governance is suppose to be getting done and the real history that exists here is more recent. People come here and I think they can get stuck in the atmosphere of these pristine white marble temples/government buildings and like most museums there is this feeling that you shouldn’t really touch anything. To be fair though, a lot of the buildings actually are museums and they are pretty incredible and more inviting than the government buildings. At the Supreme Court building they have this huge wide staircase that when deserted is pretty imposing and uninviting (which is kind of the point of the design as a larger than life entry portal for the “Temple of Justice” based on the ancient temples of Grease and Rome). I suppose it could be just that there weren’t tourists wondering around in shorts and tank tops all over the place and the snow does have it’s own effect, but whatever it was, it felt different than on previous visits.

As I rounded the corner about halfway through my run I caught a rare glimpse of another runner up ahead (I tend to run at odd times and in a year and a half I have seen another runner only perhaps ten times). They were running along the same path about a quarter mile ahead of me and instantly my competitive instinct kicked in and I found another gear as if this other runner and I were in some kind of race (which they clearly knew nothing about). In mere moments I had closed the distance by half and my heart rate actually slowed as if my whole being had fallen into a methodical rhythm when much to my chagrin the other runner turned off onto a side road and my exhilarating surge of adrenaline quickly subsided. Almost as quickly as it had started, just like that the chase was over and I was back to my solitary and contemplative run (which is actually what I prefer, but the thrill of trying to overtake a competitor certainly awakened something within me). I freely admit to my extremely competitive nature, but what struck me about this was that it was more reflex than thought. My body responded without any prompting from my thoughts and clearly my instinct was to catch anyone who was ahead of me. Running, like any endurance sport, is mostly mental. Like that fact that for me, no matter how hard I have run, something clicks in my mind and I always have to finish stronger than I started. Training is important, but being willing to hurt is more important and I believe that a personal expectation that you can win is what separates the good from the elite. I am by no means placing myself among the elite, but I do understand the mindset that is required.

Anthropomorphism

I asked my daughter the other day how the tires of her stroller got covered in mud and her response was, “Bob (the stroller is made by “Baby On Board” and has always been known as Bob) likes the mud.” Having a name is one thing, but having likes and dislikes is something new and it made me think of all the ways that we anthropomorphize things. Perhaps the objects we most often ascribe human traits to are our cars, but if we really think about it, we do it with all sorts of things. “The washing machine is acting up.” “I think my computer is mad at me.” People give names to their guitars (B. B. King’s “Lucille” is one of the more famous examples of this) and have quasi love affairs with their instruments. There are commercials running where people have conversations with their bed or their car after traveling, we have talking geckos, dancing peanuts (complete with top hat and monocle) and any number of other things we animate and make like us. In a manner of speaking you could say that it is an attempt at relationalism in the sense that we are personifying these things so that we can relate to them by seeing them in our own image.

From a faith perspective we do the same thing with God as well, limiting God and trying to comprehend things from within the scope of our own understanding. It is one thing to think in theanthropic terms seeing the divine in the human and the qualities and attributes, which are both, but it is another thing entirely when we create God in our image instead of the other way around. For Christians, both Jesus himself and Paul pushed us to see the divine in each other and showed us that as we relate to each other we relate to God, but they were both careful not to limit God into only being seen in us. Again, it is a relational thing in a sense of trying to understand God better by quantifying God in human terms, but as I often quote one of my favorite theologians, Nicholas of Cusa said, “If we could understand everything about God, God would not be so impressive as God.”

It makes sense and being able to relate is something special. Feeling like you know God better because of any way that you feel you can relate is probably a good thing. There is something to be said though in our ability or inability to relate to things that are not like us. We should be able to relate without having to make them like us. We should be able to see something as different and understand that that’s okay. In terms of god we need to accept that we don’t get to know everything. On the other hand, maybe Bob really does like the mud and what do I know.

There is something very special about a relationship in which you can go for months or even years without talking and then when you do you quickly slip into your old rhythm as though you had spoken every day. You miss them when you don’t talk and there are always thoughts of picking up the phone and calling, but then you get distracted, you get busy, you end up with some reason you can’t and then a week goes by…a month…more until finally one of you makes that call, sends that email, you manage to be in the same place, whatever and you pick things up because the connection and the foundation is so strong that the saying, “absence makes the heart grow fonder” holds true. This is not true for every relationship, but for the special ones the connection really can be so strong that time is not so much of a barrier. If we find a relationship like this, cherish it and be thankful because they are all too rare in our lives. We should never take it for granted, but instead take advantage of whatever chance we get to be in connection with each other. Technology has made it so much easier to connect, but we still have to do it and be intentional about it. I am personally more thankful than I could express for the several relationships I have which are like this. If you are one of those people in my life you have my love and gratitude for the gift you give me by being you and I look forward to whenever we will connect again.

When I was in graduate school I was asked to spend some time with perspective students and to give them a tour of the school. There was a standardized tour that they had written up directions and instructions for, but anyone who knows me knows that if you are asking me to do something it will be my version. My tour was a little different and if you ask me more comprehensive than the standard tour. The highlight if you happened to be assigned to me was a trip outside through some bushes down a dirt path to the corner of the seminary’s first building. As you came through the overgrowth you reached a forgotten, though once hallowed place where the “cornerstone” was laid and inscribed with the words, “Christ Jesus Himself being our chief cornerstone.” For me this was an important introduction to the school. It wasn’t because I am a Christian and wanted them to see that Christ is the cornerstone, it was more about showing people the thing on which the institution was built upon. The cornerstone is a symbol of what is or at least was important to the builders and framers of the school and there is something significant in that. It is a Christian school though it promotes the study of all religions and is both ecumenical and interfaith in its scope and practice. The point for me was to introduce the importance of having a cornerstone; of having something substantial holding you up, because without it you just become whatever they teach you and you loose whatever “self” you started with. You can learn many things, but without something substantial in you and of you to apply those learnings to, you never really gain knowledge, you just have stuff that you know.

On Sunday January 31st, 2010 I attended the laying of the cornerstone of First United Methodist Church in Seattle. First Church was literally the first church of any kind in Seattle and they have just moved into their fourth building after a long process of deciding where to move and what would work. The other part of the process for the church was to decide what they are about, what their “cornerstone” really is. It is not easy to be a downtown city church in today’s suburban world where less people live in the city and churches are swallowed up by the skyscrapers and highrises that supposedly mark progress. First church decided to stay downtown (though in a different part of downtown than before) and to be a downtown church. They decided that that was who they had to be. It is a unique place where multimillionaires and homeless people can and do worship together. They built themselves on an ideal of being able to reach the population of the city around where they are. The building includes a social services center and is very intentionally an open place while at the same time being a safe place. Their “cornerstone” is laid as a foundation of being a welcoming and serving presence in the heart of the city. The motto is, “serving the soul of the city” and the whole thing works because everyone that is a part of it understands that that is their foundation and they refuse to let even themselves get in the way of this collective ideal.

As I walked into their new building on a day that was proclaimed as First Church Day in the City of Seattle by the mayor and First Church week in King County by the county executive, I felt compelled to think of my own cornerstone. In one of the classes I teach regularly the question we ask ourselves on the first day is, “what do you believe in so strongly that you would stake your life on it?” in other words, “what is your cornerstone?” A cornerstone has elements of faith, family, national/cultural identity and any number of other factors. Whether you feel strongly about any of those, they have an influence both good and bad on how we form the foundation of ourselves and of our core beliefs, which become our cornerstone. It may even be that we rebel against one of these things, but that rebellion defines us just as much as a strong affinity does. For both an individual and for an organization like First Church or my school, our cornerstone is constantly being built upon, but those things, which are most important remain the same even if they sometimes seem to get covered up by the things we place around them. These aren’t opinions or ideas, because the reality is that we all should be open enough to change any one of those, but there are some things that simply are who we are and we couldn’t change them even if we wanted to. The important thing for all of us is to take the tour from time to time; through the bushes and down the overgrown path to remind ourselves of the things that matter most, the things, which hold us up and make us who we are. As long as we can hold onto these the whole world can crumble around us, but we can always rebuild because our cornerstone is intact.

When your memory starts to fade, what will you hold onto?