Thin-Slicing the Life of Faith

               Wow!  It's been almost two months since my last post.  Oh well, a breather every so often is probably a good thing, a "blog sabbatical," in this case.  However, I wanted to share some intriguing insights from Walter B. Shurden's journal.  Dr. Shurden was one of my church history professors and a life-long friend. . .

 

             In his national bestseller, Blink, (at last count on the NYT best list for 146 weeks) Malcolm Gladwell spoke of “thin-slicing.” “Thin-slicing,” he said, is “sifting through the information in front of us, throwing out all that is irrelevant while we zero in on what really matters” (pp. 34-35).

One day long ago in Jerusalem Jesus of Nazareth “thin sliced” two thousand years and 613 laws of his revered Jewish faith (Mk 12:28-31).  He cut through the density of theological history, the thickness of valued ritualism, the mass of doctrinal formulations and he went for essence. And he did not plead for more time “to think about it.” 

“Love God,” he said. “Love neighbor,” he said. In the blink of an eye, he thin-sliced Judaism and all genuine faith movements, including Christianity.

             In response to Jesus’ theological thin-slicing, the Pharisees, then and now, scream, “Theological reductionism! Doctrinal minimalism! Theology Lite! But what about the Sabbath and the hand washing?” 
 

And the Sadducees, then and now, retort, “But what about the work of the Temple? What about the liturgy? And the sacrifices?”  

And the Zealots, then and now: “Yeah, sure! Love neighbor! Tell that to the cross-building Romans!”

What do you think?  Was Jesus impractical?  Can we really follow him?

The Real Work of Christmas

This is my favorite "post-Christmas" poem ...

When the song of the angel is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the Kings and Princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,               The real work of Christmas begins.

To find the lost
To heal the broken
To feed the hungry
To release the prisoners
To rebuild the nations
To bring peace among brothers
To make music in the heart.

The author, Howard Thurman (1899-1981), was an ordained Baptist minister and influential author, philosopher, and educator. He was Dean of Theology and of the chapels at Howard University and Boston University for more than two decades, and he wrote 20 books.  The best-known of these, Jesus and the Disinherited (1949), deeply influenced Martin Luther King, Jr. and other civil rights leaders, both black and white.  In 1944, Thurman and a white pastor, Alfred Fisk, were the founding co-pastors of the first racially integrated, multicultural church in the United States, the Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples.

O Christmas Tree (and other trees, as well)

THE TREE
by Madeleine L'Engle

The children say the tree must reach the ceiling,
And so it does, angel on topmost branch,
Candy canes and golden globes and silver chains,
Trumpets that toot, and birds with feathered tails.
Each year we say, each year we fully mean:
"This is the loveliest tree of all." This tree
Bedecked with love and tinsel reaches heaven.
A pagan throwback may have brought it here
Into our room, and yet these decked-out boughs
Can represent those other trees, the one
Through which we fell in pride, when Eve forgot
That freedom is man's freedom to obey
And to adore, not to replace the light
With disobedient darkness and self-will.
On Twelfth Night when we strip the tree
And see its branches bare and winter cold
Outside the comfortable room, the tree
Is then the tree on which all darkness hanged,
Completing the betrayal that began
With that first stolen fruit. And then, O God,
This is the tree that Simon bore uphill,
This is the tree that held all love and life.
Forgive us, Lord, forgive us for that tree.
But now, still decked, adorned, in joy arrayed
For these gread days of Christmas thanks and song,
This is the tree that lights our faltering way,
For when man's first and proud rebellious act
Had reached its nadir on that hill of skulls
These shining, glimmering boughs remind us that
The knowledge that we stole was freely given
And we were sent the Spirit's radiant strength
That we might know all things. We grasp for truth
And lose it till it comes to us by love.
The glory of Lebanon shines on this Christmas tree,
The tree of life that opens wide the gates.
The children say the tree must reach the ceiling,
And so it does: for me the tree has grown so high
It pierces through the vast and star-filled sky.

from "A Widening Light: Poems of the Incarnation"
Luci Shaw, editor

"Breath of Heaven" with video from "The Nativity Story"