Tuesday, October 21, 2008

The New Song

I enjoy reading the Church Fathers (although I must confess the archaic online translations are ponderous) and I came across this gem by St. Clement of Alexandria in his "Exhortation to the Heathen":
  • "Behold the might of the new song! It has made men out of stones, men out of beasts. Those, moreover, that were as dead, not being partakers of the true life, have come to life again, simply by becoming listeners to this song. It also composed the universe into melodious order, and tuned the discord of the elements to harmonious arrangement, so that the whole world might become harmony. It let loose the fluid ocean, and yet has prevented it from encroaching on the land. The earth, again, which had been in a state of commotion, it has established, and fixed the sea as its boundary. The violence of fire it has softened by the atmosphere, as the Dorian is blended with the Lydian strain; and the harsh cold of the air it has moderated by the embrace of fire, harmoniously arranging these the extreme tones of the universe. And this deathless strain,—the support of the whole and the harmony of all,—reaching from the centre to the circumference, and from the extremities to the central part, has harmonized this universal frame of things, not according to the Thracian music, which is like that invented by Jubal, but according to the paternal counsel of God, which fired the zeal of David. And He who is of David, and yet before him, the Word of God, despising the lyre and harp, which are but lifeless instruments, and having tuned by the Holy Spirit the universe, and especially man,—who, composed of body and soul, is a universe in miniature,—makes melody to God on this instrument of many tones; and to this instrument—I mean man—he sings accordant: “For thou art my harp, and pipe, and temple.”—a harp for harmony—a pipe by reason of the Spirit—a temple by reason of the word; so that the first may sound, the second breathe, the third contain the Lord..."
Clement began this work with a scathing criticism of the popular music of his day, music that celebrates evil and sensuality (sound familiar?). The "new song" he mentions here is the song that was sung at Creation and renewed by the Son of Man, and is now sung by redeemed Man -- homo adorans -- whom Clement calls the "instrument of many tones": a harp, pipe, and temple for God, so that we might "sound, breathe, and contain the Lord." God has "made men out of stones, men out of beasts" simply by our having become listeners to the new song.

Hallelujah!


Wednesday, September 17, 2008

The GOOD Old Days

Allow me to wallow in nostalgia for a moment. My Dad likes to say that the "good old days" frequently weren't good -- just old. I suppose that's true, especially since he was talking about an incredibly difficult childhood and adolescence growing up on a rented farm, raised by his aunt and uncle. But when I manage to pry stories of the "old days" out of him, I hear a mixture of American Gothic gloom and rural Indiana joy. During my childhood trips to his roots and our extended family who stayed in Indiana, I saw Dad step back to those difficult years and remember what life as a young man was like. Before college, marriage, children, and 40 years of full-time pastoral ministry in the far-away places of Oklahoma, Pennsylvania and Maryland.

In those early years Dad learned to drive a tractor before a car, and he witnessed the lives of three uncles interspersed with a few glimpses of his own father. Dad was forced to grow up fast: his uncle Frank (with whom he lived) died when Dad was 17, and Dad ran the farm on his own for a few years before heading off to college and destiny.

The 50's were a time of exuberant teenage happiness, and this wasn't entirely lost on my Dad, in spite of the hardships of running a farm and living with his Aunt Margaret. Occasionally my siblings and I heard stories from Dad's sister Lois about how he had lots of girlfriends, danced, and went to movies. Our Dad did those things? we responded in shock. He was a real teenager? Dad has always defined sincere kindness to me, but he never displayed the joie de vivre I associate with post-war America.

I continue to look to Dad to see how life is managed. Unwittingly, he taught and I learned how to be a husband, father, and pastor, and someday I'll pull out the lessons I'm learning about how to live with an empty nest, and then never to retire. My prayer has always been that I will walk -- however haltingly-- in his footsteps.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Teach Your Children Well

"Pastor, we'd like to have our baby dedicated. What Sunday would work out best for you?" I love hearing this. One of my favorite pastoral "duties" is to commit a child's life to serving God and formally welcome him or her into the church community. In our church, we don't baptize babies, we dedicate them. (We reserve baptism for those old enough to make a confession of personal faith in Jesus Christ.) Baby dedication is primarily about parents publicly affirming their commitment to raise their children in the church and teach them to be faithful followers of Christ. It's also about the congregation pledging its support of the family in recognition that we are a community and God uses our fellowship with each other to strengthen us.

But too often the process stops with dedication. I make sure to sit down with parents and I encourage them to seriously think about the vows they make in dedicating their children. But, just as in wedding counseling, I'm afraid my admonishments are too quickly and easily forgotten.
Like weddings, dedications seem to be more about a photo op than a vow to be taken seriously. A baby's dedication should be the first of many steps that child will take on the path with Christ. The next ones should be consistent, weekly attendance at worship and Sunday School. But that depends on the parents taking their vows seriously, something too many parents don't do. What really upsets me is how parents let their kids make their own decisions about church and spirituality ... namely, that if the kid says "I don't want to go to church" or "I don't want to go to Sunday School," parents say "OK." WHY??

I've heard parents use these excuses:

#1 -- "I don't want to shove church down my kid's throat. He might end up resenting it and leaving the church altogether." It's funny how that doesn't apply when it comes to safety and health issues. After all, we don't care if we're "imposing" when we tell our children to use hygiene, eat their vegetables, and don't play on the street. We're certainly willing to impose on them the things we know they need, so why don't we include our faith in that category? It could be that parents themselves are unconvinced about the necessity for church involvement and spirituality. Kids aren't stupid; they're quick to see hypocrisy when their parents force them to do things they themselves don't want to do. So parents, where is your commitment?

#2 -- "Sunday is our only day to sleep in." I sympathize with those who have to work on Saturday evenings or even 1st shift on Sunday morning, but those are the minority. Most of us can get up early if we want to. If we would see worship and Christian education as necessary spiritual disciplines -- as important as eating -- then we won't put sleep ahead of them. Parents, your children will not suffer if you make them get out of bed for church. YOU might suffer a little -- especially at first -- but typically everyone's OK once they get to church. I'm convinced Satan loves to attack us on Sunday mornings to keep us away from church. Don't let him get away with it.

The Church is here to help parents spiritually train their children (schools certainly won't do that), but we can't do that if parents don't bring them.

"What we have heard and known, what our fathers have told us, we will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, His power, and the wonders He has done. ... Then they would put their trust in God and would not forget his deeds but would keep his commands." -- Ps. 78:3-4,7