As the contest to be the Republican nominee for President of the United States heats up, liberals and conservatives are arguing over what kind of theology is Biblical, Christian, and even what kind of Christian Jesus is.

Let me make this as short and direct as I can:

Jesus was not a conservative Christian.

Jesus was not a liberal or progressive Christian.

And maybe that makes sense out of the arguments today. One can claim that Ayn Rand, capitalism, tough love, and Christianity go together without having to bump up against the teachings of Jesus, because Jesus never claimed to be a Christian.

The way I read the Bible, Jesus seems to have been more on the social justice and income equality side than many of the teachers of the day.

So maybe that makes Jesus a liberal Jew.

When there's a war, some soldiers don't come home alive. We may use the term "hero" for many soldiers, but we especially use it for those who gave their lives in battle.We used to celebrate when soldiers return alive, but these days those celebrations are a lot smaller.

In many churches, there seems to be a lot more focus on how Jesus gave his life for us when he was crucified. Yet the big celebration is on Easter, which is about the resurrection - Jesus returning alive.

The Parable of the Prodigal is a story about a child who asks for the inheritance while the parent still lives, cashes it in, and then spends the money with prodigality. When the child has spent the last bit of money and hit rock bottom, and decides to return home as a servant. the parent throws a party because the child "was once dead, but now is alive".

I have less of a point here than some questions:

Are we a people who primarily proclaim Christ crucified and celebrate that he died for our sins, so we get a pass?

Are we a people who primarily proclaim Christ crucified and celebrate that he died, and we should similarly take up our crosses

Are we a people who primarily proclaim Christ resurrected and celebrate that he has conquered death for us?

Are we a people who primarily proclaim Christ resurrected and celebrate that he has conquered death and recognize that we also must be renewed?

Are we a people who primarily proclaim what Jesus taught and, if so, do we need to follow it? Teach it?

Are we a people who primarily proclaim how Jesus lived and, if so, do we need to live it?

I guess my question really is: are we a people of death, life, knowledge, or living?

As we move into Lent, I'm going to be meditating on Jesus' life, death, and resurrection, and how that informs my life.

Yes, that Kevin Smith.

Yes, that Trinity.

One of my favorite films is Dogma. This will surely make some of you concerned for my soul, others of you happy that I thought this was a clever film, and cause yet others of you to say "what is Dogma?"

Dogma is only one of several movies where Smith wrote, directed, and played a role (others are Clerks, Mall Rats, Chasing Amy,Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, and Clerks II).

As the writer, Kevin Smith creates a world. Yes, you may argue that his story exists in this world, but I disagree. There may well be a Bethany Sloan in this world, but she is not the Bethany Sloan of Dogma. Likewise for Cardinal Glick. The events in the Dogma world never happened in our world.

Kevin Smith is the creator of a universe.

Not only is Smith the creator, but his timeline is independent of the Dogma timeline. Smith sees the beginning, end, and middle of Dogma universe as one whole. Smith's pen arrives at any point in the USA at any time, because the time and space of the Dogma world have no claim on Smith.

But Smith is not content to merely create a universe. No, he becomes a part of it. Smith creates a character - Silent Bob - which inhabits the created Dogma universe. And then Smith is the soul that inhabits the Silent Bob character.

To the Dogma universe, Silent Bob is Smith incarnate.

Is Silent Bob the same as Smith? Yes, and no. Yes, the soul of the creator Smith lives out the character of Silent Bob, but no, Silent Bob is not independent of the Dogma time and space. And if the creator Smith were to decide that the Silent Bob character should die, the death would only be of the Silent Bob character and only in the Dogma universe - it would have no claim on the creator Smith.

Complicated? You bet. But Smith (as well as many other writers) has done this in many films.

Yet we're not done. Smith not only creates the universe and the characters within it, not only become the incarnation of Smith call Silent Bob, but Smith wants to speak to the souls that give life to the characters.

Smith takes on the role of director in Dogma. In doing so, he lives in the space between the timeless (to the Dogma universe) creator and the temporal created beings in the film. Director Smith speaks to the souls that inhabit the characters: Linda Fiorentino as she lives out Bethany Sloan's life, George Carlin as he lives out the life of Cardinal Glick, Jason Mewes as he becomes Jay, and yes, even Smith as he lives out Silent Bob.

Smith, as director, is the spirit that speaks to the souls that help to create the lives in the universe created by creator Smith. As director, Smith even speaks to the actor Smith as he lives out Silent Bob.

For those of you who haven't already closed this window and started praying for my immortal soul, let me assure you I am not saying Kevin Smith is our God. But Smith did create several universes, spoke to the souls that inhabited the lives in those universes, and even entered those universes to live among the creations.

Genesis 2 says humans are created in the likeness of God. If we can create whole worlds, and inhabit them with the beings we create, cannot God do so on a grander scale?

What if our creator is like an author, and Jesus like a life played out within that creation by our creator, and the Holy Spirit like that same entity with a foot inside our universe and a foot outside it?

Perhaps all the world is indeed a stage.

I know a lot of Christians.

My personal history includes Evangelical Free, Bible Students, Metropolitan Community Churches, and United Church of Christ. My family history includes the Roman Catholic church (on my Mom's side) and a Presbyterian minister on my Dad's side.

And, among others, I know Eastern Orthodox, Catholic, Anglican, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Reformed, Congregationalist, Baptist, Methodist, New-light Christian, Evangelical, Mennonite, Pentecostal, and non-denominational Christians.

I know there are some churches that have made the news (or at least the blogs, Facebook posts, and Twitter tweets) for being a bit controlloing of their members.

I know a lot of Christians are considered "unchurched": they have no regular church they attend.

And I know the mainline churches are in decline. Seminaries are closing and suspending their programs.

This is not my worry.

Every time I read a story that offers a way to revitalize a church to keep it alive, I wince. Every story about a denomination's attempt to bring in more members makes me cringe. Every sermon about how to bring more people and money into a church makes me want to hide under a pew.

It's not that I don't like churches.

Churches feed people spiritually. They are important ways for people to have a sense of community. They're kind of like restaurants: places where people meet and eat.

And in a fast-food world, restaurants need to change to bring in customers and their money, right?

But even if churches bear some resemblance to restaurants, they are not restaurants. The call of Jesus is not to create a self-sustaining place that turns a profit and pays its workers. Really, it is not.

Then Jesus told his disciples, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

- Matthew 16:24-26, NRSV

We usually think about these verses as referring to individuals, and that's appropriate - though we individuals (especially in the USA) have grown less willing to lose our lives, or our comfort for that matter, in the service of God.

Then he said to them all, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it. What does it profit them if they gain the whole world, but lose or forfeit themselves? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words, of them the Son of Man will be ashamed when he comes in his glory and the glory of the Father and of the holy angels.

- Luke 9:23-26, NRSV

But I think the churches need to hear this as well. Yes, I have heard that churches must change or die. I have heard that churches must be renewed, I have heard so many ideas of how to revitalize existing churches. But that's not the point at all.

Remember Lot's wife. Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it.
- Luke 17:32-33

As long as churches are more concerned with their survival, with their balance sheets, with the number in worship on Sunday morning, they have precisely the wrong focus for Christian churches.

Churches have to risk death.

I'm very serious about this.

Churches, and the believers who are their members, have to start putting the good news first.  As uncomfortable as it may be, churches must risk their own survival by preaching in the public square, in word and deed, the message that inspires them.

Are you a social justice church? What evidence of this exists beyond your walls?

Does your church preach "the priesthood of all believers?" What does "all" mean to you, and does anyone outside the church know?

I was once in a church meeting around the idea of becoming Open and Affirming to Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender people. One question raised was "what will other churches think of us?"

Here's a clue:

It's not about you.

When the early Christians stayed with the sick, it wasn't about the Christians: it was about the sick.

When the early Christians sold their belongings to give them to the poor, it wasn't about the Christians: it was about the poor.

When Jesus ate with prostitutes and tax collectors, believe it or not, it was not about Jesus! It was about the prostitutes and tax collectors!

It's possible that new outreach may increase membership or donations.

But it might not.

And that's okay.

The church must die to itself.

Because a church's ministry is not about the church. It's about reaching those who need the church's ministry.

And a church that is only focused on surviving, as far as the world outside can see, is dead already.

So I'm doing preliminary research on a possible summer retreat for LGBTQ Christians in IL.

What I'm looking at is a Friday night-Sunday morning retreat centered around the sacred stories of our own lives. I'm imagining volunteer-led sessions on telling our stories through prose, poetry, song, art, and anything else we can think up and lead. Participants could choose one or several of these sessions and, if they choose, share their stories in a wrap-up worship. Those choosing one or two sessions would have free time to meditate, read, etc.

My present guess is that it might run $165/person single occupancy and $150 double occupancy.

While I'm working out logistics, I'm curious about how many people might be interested. You can comment here, or if you use Twitter, use the hashtag #LGBTQstoriesRetreat.

Feel free to forward this to others. If there's enough interest and if I can make it work logistically, it will happen.

I've moved around a bit.

When I was born, my immediate family lived with my grandmother in a three story grey slate Victorian.

When I was seven years old, my family moved to a house in the suburbs.

As an adult, I have lived in a dorm, two relatives' houses, a relative's hotel, two friends' houses, a rented townhouse shared with a roommate, eight apartments, and two houses I have owned.

Of all these places, my grandmother's house is the only one to which I had any real attachment. Perhaps it was the age of the building that touched me, or perhaps it was the architecture. Or maybe it was a symbol of my early childhood.

Yes, buildings can be symbols.

A church had a piece of property on which they intended to build a large building as they became a megachurch. Years later, they released the land and moved into a rented space. For some, letting go of the land meant letting go of the dream of being a megachurch. While that dream had actually died some time before, it was hard to let go of the symbol.

And so it is with the seminary I attend.

In 1999, I visited the school as part of a conference. I fell in love with the spirit of the school, and with the building that housed it. I looked forward to staying in the dormitory.

While I worked part time toward my undergraduate degree, I periodically visited the school for various reasons. I met graduates of the school, including one who was present when a bookstore coop was founded and took residence in the basement of the building. Long before being accepted in the MDiv program, I had built a relationship with the school and its history.

By the time I began attending classes, the dormitory was rented out to a university for office space. I regretted not having the opportunity to spend nights in the space, but was grateful for the opportunity to be part of the community and to study in a space where so many had done so before.

And then the building was sold.

The sale made perfect sense. In exchange for the building, the seminary received compensation in many ways, not the least of which was a lease on a new building built largely to the specifications of the seminary. The new building is more energy efficient, more spacious, has better technological infrastructure, and none of the maintenance problems that had afflicted the old building.

I visited the new building on Tuesday. The left side of my brain thinks it makes perfect sense. The right side of my brain isn't sure whether the beauty of the new building meets or exceeds that of the old building. And deep within the emotional core, my amygdala says

"Mommy, I want to go home!"

For me, this building had come to symbolize more than just the current community we call the seminary. It symbolized decades of students and faculty and a tradition that reached back long before I was born.

I don't dislike the new building, but some nights I wake up realizing I will never again walk the old building's cloisters, where so many had walked before. Sometimes I even cry.

Yes, I know it's just a building. But for me, it's also a symbol, and it's going to take a while for me to accept a new symbol.

First I have to release the old symbol.



Extra credit to those who can name the artist and album that contains a song with the same title as this post.

This will be a bit of a rant.

I understand deconstruction of text.

I also understand the impulse toward non-hierarchical, non-androcentric language.

I still don't like replacing kingdom with kingdom.

Note: Though I prefer inclusive language, I will be using male language in the first few paragraphs to remain close to traditional language.

First of all, kindom is a made up word. I'm not completely opposed to neologisms, but this is a factor in my distaste for its usage, when considered with the other issues.

Second, it is "close" to kingdom in spelling and sound, which implies that it is a reasonable substitute.

Third, the connotation of kindom (can there be a denotation yet?) is completely different from the word it replaces, kingdom. Stating that "yours is the kingdom" portrays the Father as sovereign; "yours is the kindom" portrays the Father as a person related to us. The theology is not indefensible: we are called "sons of God." It is hard, however, to defend the interpretation as exegetical: there is a distinct difference in meaning.

There are plenty of ways we could slightly alter words to make them fit our theology. We might drop the "i" from Savior because we savor our redemption. And isn't Heaven a haven for us, or maybe Jesus will heave us there? We might think Father is too androcentric and choose to call the one who holds our fate by the name Fater. (I get extra points for the neologism on Fater.)

What may begin as well-intentioned reframing in inclusive, non-hierarchical language may appear to be sloppy interpretation, and for some it discredits the message.

"So, Cindi," you may ask, "what would you do?"

When we reframe an idea, we should be deliberate and obvious about it. Consider this rendering of the Lord's Prayer:

Our Creator, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy dominion come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the dominion and the power and the glory for ever.

I first heard this in a self-help group, and later at a church. Father is deliberately replaced with Creator: there is no implication that it is the same word, and Creator has a meaning that is at least close to the older, traditional idea of Father as source of life (modern science notwithstanding). Dominion keeps God as sovereign, but removes the androcentricity. No one would ever confuse dominion as a spelling variation of the word kingdom (though the syllable dom has the same etymology).

Purists may say "you're changing the words!" and they would be right. Then we can have a discussion about why the word choices are important.

Another approach is to reframe the prayer entirely, as Jim Cotter did in Prayer at Night (this  version is often referred to as the "New Zealand" version):

Life-Giver, Pain-Bearer, Love-Maker.
Source of all that is and that shall be.

Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:
The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by all peoples of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth.

With the bread we need for today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.
In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.

For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever. Amen.

Would anyone take this rendering as anything but an intentional reframing? It's clearly a new interpretation of the text.

The elements of the original prayer can be found, with Our Father expanded to Life-Giver, Pain-Bearer, Love-Maker./ Source of all that is and that shall be./Father and Mother of us all,/Loving God and kingdom rendered as reign.

There are many ways to change the emphasis or focus of a prayer. We can be explicit about the changes we make, or we can make subtle changes and hope no one objects.

When we veer from well-known texts, let us be intentional about what we are doing and why we are doing it. Kindom may be clever, but, at least to this hearer, comes off as more of a linguistic trick than as a deliberate expression of Biblical hermeneutics.

After talking with one of the full-time chaplains where I do Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), I've put together a first draft of a gender variance 101 document for hospital chaplains. I welcome and encourage comments. Is there something I got wrong or could express better? Is there something else I could address?

You are also welcome and encouraged to post/forward/retweet/share this with others.

The document (a work in progress) is here: trans101.pdf

While this document is intended for a specific hospital, a generic finished version will be published here at a later date.

There are some really tough people out there. In fiction, we have people who are even tougher. There are heroes and villains who singlehandedly take on multiple adversaries and triumph.

There are also many examples of people who use teams of bodyguards, armies, or other groups of protectors. They may talk tough, but they need a lot of help/

For those who believe in a god, what is your god like? Does this god need to be protected from insults? From bad theology? From transgressions of god's law?

If so, what does that say about your god? Why does god need you for protection?

Whenever we punish others for saying or doing something we believe our god doesn't want, or for demeaning our god, or for misinterpreting what god says, I have to wonder how weak and vulnerable we are imagining our god to be. Maybe instead we are defending ourselves and our own understandings of god, because we are too weak and vulnerable to allow competing thoughts.

If I have a resolution for 2012, it is this:

Stop praying for things I'm not willing to work for.

The usual phrase is "be careful what you wish for: you might get it." For me, it's "Be careful what you pray for: you might have to work for it." For all of the miracles in the books we call the Bible, I don't think life works like that very often.

If one were to pray for stronger muscles, would the expectation be that one morning the muscles would just be stronger? More likely, opportunities would present themselves for the muscles to be exercised.

One story I have often heard is about a person praying for patience, and then getting stuck in traffic and stopped behind freight trains.

My mistake was asking to trust God more.

Of course I didn't wake up trusting God more.

Instead, as a condition of my starting Clinical Pastoral Education, I had to have a Measles, Mumps, Rubella, and Varicella antibody titer test, which required a routine blood draw.

On Tuesday, December 27, a nurse and a physician made three attempts to come up with a single vial of blood. They came up with two partial tubes.

On Thursday, December 29, I got a call telling me the tubes were insufficient and I needed to come in for another draw, either Friday (December 30) by 4:00PM (I work until 5PM), or Monday (January 2) before 5PM.

I had Monday off, so I arrived at 1:45 PM to find they had closed at 1:00PM.

On Tuesday, January 3, a doctor and nurse made two more attempts to draw blood and failed. They told me a previous titer test would be ok.

On Wednesday, I called my physician's office. They couldn't find the records, but would search elsewhere. I got a call back that the records - from a previous physician - had been destroyed.

I'm starting to panic. [see that lack of trusting?] All of this HAS to be done by the 16th.

I look up my previous doctor on Google and it looks like she has relocated to Ohio. I'm hoping it's another doctor with the same name, but when I call her listed number, AT&T helpfully offers to connect me to a similar business as this number is disconnected.

This doesn't seem to be helping my trust.

I look up the physician who shared a practice with my prior physician and call her office. They have the records, and can FAX them to the place where I'm doing CPE. This gives me hope, but I still stop by the CPE site after work. They tell me it's not what they need and I will still have to give blood.

I'm losing hope. I share my worries with my spouse and with my friends on Facebook. I start to wonder if this isn't some kind of message to stop.

Thursday I have another appointment at the CPE site. Yet another doctor is going to attempt a blood draw, and he's going to try a little squiggly surface vein that has failed many times before (including one of the first draws in this saga).

I feel a pinch, and I hear and feel a little movement, and he mutters something and pulls the needle out. I know he too has failed.

The nurse shows me the full-to-the-brim vial.

Oh me of little faith.

We don't get magically stronger. We get stronger by exercising. Runners push themselves another few hundred feet. Weight lifters add a couple more pounds to what they're lifting.

What we often call "tests" might more properly be called "exercises". Our faith isn't tested so God knows how much faith we have. It's not even tested so we know how much faith we have.

Our faith is tested so that our faith may increase.

I'm going to try to remember that, when I'm praying for God to strengthen me, I'm really praying for tougher exercises.