Since you are almost certainly reading this on a computer, you are probably somewhat familiar with Facebook; if you aren’t here’s a link to my page: http://www.facebook.com/8stringster?ref=profile#/?ref=home. Anyway, everyone who is linked to your Facebook page is known as a “friend,” and they can all see whatever you write about or any pictures you might post, as well as other people’s comments on your comments. If you want to invite someone to link to your Facebook page, you “friend” them (yes, “friend” is now a verb), and that person decides whether or not they want to be your Facebook friend. In a lot of ways it’s like being in Junior High all over again, only without the acne.
Well, here’s a shocker: it turns out that not of all your Facebook friends are real friends. This is based on the scientific observation, first made nearly 20 years ago by anthropologist Robin Dunbar, that the human brain can handle no more than 150 friends, that is, “relationships in which a person knows how each friend relates to every other friend. They are people you care about and contact at least once a year.” You can read more about it in a short article from The Times of London: http://technology.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/tech_and_web/the_web/article6999879.ece Dunbar began this work before the rise of social networking sites like Facebook, but he has recently extended his research to discover if the new technology has enabled us to transcend this barrier. Turns out that it hasn’t: “The interesting thing is that you can have 1,500 friends but when you actually look at traffic on sites, you see people maintain the same inner circle of around 150 people that we observe in the real world,” said Dunbar. Whether online or face-to-face, we tend to self-organize into groups of about 150 because “social cohesion tends to deteriorate as groups become larger.”
So it’s really no surprise that so many churches have about 150 members, and it shouldn’t surprise us that even in a growing area it’s very difficult to grow beyond 150, unless we’re willing to give ups something. We like knowing everyone we go to church with, and if the church gets too large, we start complaining that it doesn’t feel like our church anymore. As someone remarked, when people say, “this is a friendly church,” what they often mean is, “all my friends are here.”
The challenge for us as churches is to move beyond the friendship circle, not necessarily to make new friends if your quota is already full, but to make disciples. That means thinking of people in a whole new way: not first of all as my friends, but as friends of Jesus. That, it seems, is what Jesus wants: “No one has greater love than this,” he says, “to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.” (John 15:13-15)
It’s a good thing Jesus isn’t limited by the 150-friend rule, isn’t it?
Monday, February 1, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Calvin on Perseverance
They indeed who have been illuminated by the Lord ought always to think of perseverance; for they continue not in the goodness of God, who having for a time responded to the call of God, do at length begin to loathe the kingdom of heaven, and thus by their ingratitude justly deserve to be blinded again. - John Calvin, commenting on Romans 11:22
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Calvin on the Fear of God
19. Thou wilt then say, etc. In the person of the Gentiles he brings forward what they might have pleaded for themselves; but that was of such a nature as ought not to have filled them with pride, but, on the contrary, to have made them humble. For if the cutting off of the Jews was through unbelief, and if the ingrafting of the Gentiles was by faith, what was their duty but to acknowledge the favor of God, and also to cherish modesty and humbleness of mind? For it is the nature of faith, and what properly belongs to it, to generate humility and fear. But by fear understand that which is in no way inconsistent with the assurance of faith; for Paul would not have our faith to vacillate or to alternate with doubt, much less would he have us to be frightened or to quake with fear.
Of what kind then is this fear? As the Lord bids us to take into our consideration two things, so two kinds of feeling must thereby be produced. For he would have us ever to bear in mind the miserable condition of our nature; and this can produce nothing but dread, weariness, anxiety, and despair; and it is indeed expedient that we should thus be thoroughly laid prostrate and broken down, that we may at length groan to him; but this dread, derived from the knowledge of ourselves, keeps not our minds while relying on his goodness, from continuing calm; this weariness hinders us not from enjoying full consolation in him; this anxiety, this despair, does not prevent us from obtaining in him real joy and hope. Hence the fear, of which he speaks, is set up as an antidote to proud contempt; for as every one claims for himself more than what is right, and becomes too secure and at length insolent towards others, we ought then so far to fear, that our heart may not swell with pride and elate itself. - John Calvin, commenting on Romans 11:19
Of what kind then is this fear? As the Lord bids us to take into our consideration two things, so two kinds of feeling must thereby be produced. For he would have us ever to bear in mind the miserable condition of our nature; and this can produce nothing but dread, weariness, anxiety, and despair; and it is indeed expedient that we should thus be thoroughly laid prostrate and broken down, that we may at length groan to him; but this dread, derived from the knowledge of ourselves, keeps not our minds while relying on his goodness, from continuing calm; this weariness hinders us not from enjoying full consolation in him; this anxiety, this despair, does not prevent us from obtaining in him real joy and hope. Hence the fear, of which he speaks, is set up as an antidote to proud contempt; for as every one claims for himself more than what is right, and becomes too secure and at length insolent towards others, we ought then so far to fear, that our heart may not swell with pride and elate itself. - John Calvin, commenting on Romans 11:19
Monday, January 25, 2010
The Lectionary
The Revised Common Lectionary is used so much in our churches that it’s easy to forget it’s a relatively recent development. Attending seminary in the 1970’s I heard nothing about the Lectionary, except in references to liturgical churches in books on preaching. The sermon planning style recommended to me was the so-called lectio continuo: preach through a book of the Bible.
So that’s what I did for the first couple of years, though it didn’t take long for me to realize that I had to pick and choose. There are after all 16 chapters in the shortest Gospel, Mark; to preach through every word and do it any kind of justice would take at least half a year, and that wouldn’t fit into the celebrations of Christmas and Easter. (I know that wouldn’t bother John Calvin, but it bothered me) I also realized, with a shock, that in my picking and choosing I was unconsciously ignoring certain themes. I was truly abashed to realize that in working my way through one of the Gospels I had omitted all the healing stories. It wasn’t because I disbelieved in healing. It was evidently because I subconsciously preferred not to talk about it. Sigmund Freud would have a field day with me.
So I turned to the Lectionary, and I found another benefit: I got involved in a Lectionary study group. If you’ve never been part of one of these, I can’t recommend the practice too highly. It forces you to look at the texts further away than a few days; it lets you bounce your ideas off other preachers and hear what they have to say; it may even make you argue your position on a particular text or compel you to change your mind. Besides, every Lectionary group I’ve been part of has turned into a support group, and goodness knows we can all use a little support.
No, the Lectionary isn’t perfect, and there are times when I depart from it to work through a shorter book or follow a theme. But week after week, I find the discipline of Lectionary preaching the best way to feed a congregation, and nourish my own spiritual life as well.
So that’s what I did for the first couple of years, though it didn’t take long for me to realize that I had to pick and choose. There are after all 16 chapters in the shortest Gospel, Mark; to preach through every word and do it any kind of justice would take at least half a year, and that wouldn’t fit into the celebrations of Christmas and Easter. (I know that wouldn’t bother John Calvin, but it bothered me) I also realized, with a shock, that in my picking and choosing I was unconsciously ignoring certain themes. I was truly abashed to realize that in working my way through one of the Gospels I had omitted all the healing stories. It wasn’t because I disbelieved in healing. It was evidently because I subconsciously preferred not to talk about it. Sigmund Freud would have a field day with me.
So I turned to the Lectionary, and I found another benefit: I got involved in a Lectionary study group. If you’ve never been part of one of these, I can’t recommend the practice too highly. It forces you to look at the texts further away than a few days; it lets you bounce your ideas off other preachers and hear what they have to say; it may even make you argue your position on a particular text or compel you to change your mind. Besides, every Lectionary group I’ve been part of has turned into a support group, and goodness knows we can all use a little support.
No, the Lectionary isn’t perfect, and there are times when I depart from it to work through a shorter book or follow a theme. But week after week, I find the discipline of Lectionary preaching the best way to feed a congregation, and nourish my own spiritual life as well.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Calvin on the Church
It hence follows, that they egregiously mistake who form an opinion of the Church according to their own perceptions. And surely if that celebrated Prophet, who was endued with so enlightened a mind, was so deceived, when he attempted by his own judgment to form an estimate of God’s people, what shall be the case with us, whose highest perspicuity, when compared with his, is mere dullness? Let us not then determine any thing rashly on this point; but rather let this truth remain fixed in our hearts — that the Church, though it may not appear to our eyes, is sustained by the secret providence of God. Let it also be remembered by us, that they are foolish and presumptuous who calculate the number of the elect according to the extent of their own perception: for God has a way, easy to himself, hidden from us, by which he wonderfully preserves his elect, even when all things seem to us past all remedy...
Since then the grace of God prevails so much in an extreme state of things, let us not lightly give over to the devil all those whose piety does not openly appear to us. It also ought to be fully imprinted on our minds, — that however impiety may everywhere prevail, and dreadful confusion spread on every side, yet the salvation of many remains secured under the seal of God. f338 But that no one may under this error indulge his own sloth, as many seek hiding-places for their vices in the hidden providences of God, it is right to observe again, — that they only are said to be saved who continue sound and unpolluted in the faith of God. This circumstance in the case ought also to be noticed, — that those only remained safe who did not prostitute their body, no, not even by an external act of dissimulation, to the worship of idols; for he not only ascribes to them a purity of mind, but that they had also kept their body from being polluted by any filthiness of superstition.- John Calvin, commenting on Romans 11:2
Since then the grace of God prevails so much in an extreme state of things, let us not lightly give over to the devil all those whose piety does not openly appear to us. It also ought to be fully imprinted on our minds, — that however impiety may everywhere prevail, and dreadful confusion spread on every side, yet the salvation of many remains secured under the seal of God. f338 But that no one may under this error indulge his own sloth, as many seek hiding-places for their vices in the hidden providences of God, it is right to observe again, — that they only are said to be saved who continue sound and unpolluted in the faith of God. This circumstance in the case ought also to be noticed, — that those only remained safe who did not prostitute their body, no, not even by an external act of dissimulation, to the worship of idols; for he not only ascribes to them a purity of mind, but that they had also kept their body from being polluted by any filthiness of superstition.- John Calvin, commenting on Romans 11:2
Monday, January 18, 2010
Cleaning Day
Today is the day I clean up my study. A friend reports that he was asked in an interview, “Are you a filer or a piler?” and if those are the choices, I have to describe myself as a piler. Every available horizontal surface is covered with stacks of paper, books, and miscellaneous objects. The upside is that it makes dusting easy. It’s probably a good thing that I have a small desk or it, too, would be piled with stuff. (See picture)
Those of you with neat work spaces will tell me how much easier it is to clean up as you go. Everything I’ve ever read about it has the same advice: every piece of paper should be handled once: filed, discarded, or passed on. Books, once read or consulted, should be returned to the shelf. Miscellaneous objects should be put in place or eliminated. It all makes perfect sense. But after working the other way for so long I have just about come to the conclusion that there’s no hope for me. I will always be a piler.
This is where I make a virtue of necessity: those who keep their workspace neat have no conception of the thrill of straightening up: of seeing the piles of paper disappear, of seeing the stacks of books back on the shelves, of seeing the knicknacks go in their proper places. The Indiana Jones-like excitement when a long-missing document is unearthed. The guilty pleasure of knowing you really should be doing something else but now have a perfect excuse not to do it: sorry, have to do this later, right now I’m cleaning up my study.
Finally I take comfort in the knowledge that nowhere does the Bible command us to be neat. “Cleanliness is next to godliness” comes, not from Scripture, but from John Wesley. When Paul says that all things should be done decently and in order, he’s talking about the community’s worship (1 Corinthians 14:40).
Now that that’s off my chest, it’s time to start straightening up.
Those of you with neat work spaces will tell me how much easier it is to clean up as you go. Everything I’ve ever read about it has the same advice: every piece of paper should be handled once: filed, discarded, or passed on. Books, once read or consulted, should be returned to the shelf. Miscellaneous objects should be put in place or eliminated. It all makes perfect sense. But after working the other way for so long I have just about come to the conclusion that there’s no hope for me. I will always be a piler.
This is where I make a virtue of necessity: those who keep their workspace neat have no conception of the thrill of straightening up: of seeing the piles of paper disappear, of seeing the stacks of books back on the shelves, of seeing the knicknacks go in their proper places. The Indiana Jones-like excitement when a long-missing document is unearthed. The guilty pleasure of knowing you really should be doing something else but now have a perfect excuse not to do it: sorry, have to do this later, right now I’m cleaning up my study.
Finally I take comfort in the knowledge that nowhere does the Bible command us to be neat. “Cleanliness is next to godliness” comes, not from Scripture, but from John Wesley. When Paul says that all things should be done decently and in order, he’s talking about the community’s worship (1 Corinthians 14:40).
Now that that’s off my chest, it’s time to start straightening up.
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