A VUCA world

We live in a VUCA world. So writes author Robert Johansen in his 2007 book, Get There Early. It is a world marked by volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity. We would like to think that VUCA is a new phenomenon, and although it may be a new acronym we have had these dynamics around for a long time.

And most of us don't like it. The Tea Party movement seems to me a misguided attempt to deny or collapse VUCA. And the outrage industry is fueled by the fear and anxiety that emerges from VUCA -- and indeed is an artifact of the VUCA world.

Paul lived in a VUCA world. And he had many responses to it; the most most profound (for me) coming in the first chapter of Ephesians: " I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power." (1:17-19)

This is not a solution, but an invitation. An invitation to look beyond the very real (and troubling) issues raised by VUCA, and to see a vision of hope by using wisdom and revelation -- which the Lord will provide.

Jesus was always re-framing the perspective of how to read the dynamics of the world. So does Paul.

The fullness of time

Time is a four letter word. While not a curse word, nevertheless time can feel like a curse given the relative lack of it. Especially at this time of the year.

We are often pressed for time; we try and find time for others -- or just for ourselves. We wonder where did the time go, almost as though it wasn't there in the first place.

As I read over the 10th verse of the first chapter in Paul's letter to the Ephesians, I am reintroduced to the "fullness of time." Which for me is kairos time. Time outside of time. Unbounded time -- when a moment can linger for what feels like an eternity. Moments when we literally lose track of time.

Most of us can recall moments of kairos time. The first few days after after our children were born was kairos time. More often than not for me, the breaking of the bread in the Eucharist is a kind of alarm clock for an encounter with kairos time.

No telling what might happen in the fullness of time. "In the fullness of time", Eucharistic Prayer B beseeches God to "put all things in subjection under your Christ" (page 369 of the Book of Common Prayer); which I think the Prayer Book authors took directly from Ephesians.

Children seem to be more open to kairos time than adults. Mainly because they are not bound -- as we adults are, to kronos time. Which is measured time. Most of us keep the measure of kronos time close at hand, if not literally wrapped around the hand. I think we have twelve clocks in our house, not counting computers or cell phones. I have three clocks in my office. If we are not slaves to time, we end up being indentured servants to it. Being on time -- and getting things done in time are important virtues, but our hyper-allegiance to kronos time runs the risk of erecting formidable barriers to the breaking in of the fullness of time. Where timeless kairos gifts await.

In the heavenly places

"In the heavenly places." (Ephesians 1:3)

Where are those heavenly places? Most of us have been taught to think that the heavenly places are up there; someplace beyond reach. A place flowing with milk and honey, and filled with serenity and peace. Certainly not here.

I have a good friend who sports a bumper sticker on his car: 'I would rather be here now.' Not fishing. Not at the beach or shopping. Here.

Which is where heaven is. Which is where God is working. When we go to a favored place for the purpose of getting away from it all -- or go on retreat, we may have a sense that we are going to a unique heavenly place. The fact is, God is no more there than God is here. The difference is that in that 'away from it all' place, we position our souls differently, and are more ready to receive God's presence.

Next month, a group of bishops in New York and New Jersey are planning to go to Haiti. Haiti is part of our province. We will go to offer support to our brother bishop, Zache, who has invited us. We also go because -- in spite of squalor and cholera and unspeakable grief, Haiti is a heavenly place. We go to witness, and to find out -- in new ways, how God is working.

And the Band Played On

And the Band Played On is the title of an important book written in the 1980's by Randy Shilts. A journalist, Shilts followed the developing AIDS epidemic -- and how the government and medical establishment intentionally ignored the spreading of a complicated virus and its inexorable and fatal outcome. "And the band played on."

Much has changed in the three decades since the outbreak of HIV disease. There is better treatment. AIDS is no longer a death sentence (provided people have access to the treatment). But more people are infected.

Today is World AIDS day. We remember those who have died from this disease, their families -and caregivers -- and the many self-organizing individuals and groups around the world who stepped in to help when the official entities wouldn't.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul gives blessing to God, "who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love." (1:3-4)

What an extraordinary statement about the abundance of God's blessing. It covers everyone and everything. In all situations.

But there is a tendency in us to ration that blessing. To limit it -- or to carefully direct it to the "worthy" places. A limited blessing was unofficial policy at the beginning of the AIDS crisis. It is less the case today, but prejudicial blessings still abound. Which meant -- and which means, that whole categories of people are thought -- in some quarters, to be expendable. Paul doesn't see it that way.

Nor should we.

Grace and Peace

Thanksgiving dinner has hardly been digested, and Advent announces itself. Advent is the season for waiting, for preparation and for getting ready. I don't feel ready to get ready; the preparation list seems daunting -- and the punishing pace of the season twists "wait" into a forbidden four-letter word.

Enter Paul's letter to the Ephesians. I have added this Epistle to my preparation list. And I have invited people across the diocese and beyond to add it to theirs. Part of the good news is that the letter is mercifully short. It is beautiful prose. The poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge called it "one of the divinest compositions of man (sic)." So we can take it slowly -- and allow the combination of prose, Spirit, beauty and brevity to speak to the soul. Let it not be a task, but a way to enter into the season.

"To the saints," Paul begins, and by saints he means us. Not just some of us. All of us. I don't think Paul is trying to flatter his audience. He says saints because he means saints. So ponder your sainthood. The goodness which has been given us -- and the giftedness that marks us. We are blessed. Through no fault of our own we are saints. Most of the time it seems that Christian theology asks us to sort through our sinfulness. Paul opens by identifying our saintliness. I invite you to deal with that.

"Grace to you and peace." I think he means that as well. I want to greet people with that same graciousness. And it doesn't always work. It certainly didn't this afternoon when I spent an hour trying to get across the George Washington Bridge. Let's just say that I didn't greet every other driver with a warm and open heart.

A couple of years ago I was remarking in a parish forum about the challenges of driving in New Jersey. Not just the driving part, but the etiquette part. One woman said that whenever she got cut off on the road, she responded with "go in peace to love and serve the Lord." I had a hard time believing her, and so I asked how long it took for her to say that. She indicated that she said it right away. Still not believing her, I asked her with what tone did she use when she said it. "As if I mean it", she replied. She was able to pass on the grace that had been given to her. Grace begets grace.

Now there is an Advent challenge.

An Advent Invitation: Lectio Divina Of Ephesians

This Advent, I invite you to join me in the practice of Lectio Divina -- or divine reading. The text we will be using is Paul's letter to the Ephesians. It's short -- six chapters. It will take about a half hour to read. (You can read Paul's Letter To The Ephesians online (New Revised Standard Version) using the oremus Bible Browser.)

But Lectio Divina is a different kind of reading. It is a practice of reading as much with the heart as with the brain. It invites the reader to sit with images and metaphors of what is written -- and to ponder what they are saying to our soul.

Paul's letter to the Ephesians is probably misnamed. Many scholars think one of Paul's disciples wrote the letter, to an audience that was much wider than the community of Ephesus. No matter. It is filled with the powerful expressions of the Christian faith -- "now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than we can ask or imagine" (3:21); which raise some important questions: what is the power? How does it work? What are the limits of what we can imagine?

And there are some serious theological speed bumps: "Wives, be subject to your husbands as you are to the Lord" (5:22). What is that all about?

Paul's' purpose in writing the letter was to pull the community together -- to create unity in diversity.

As we get ready to enter the season of Advent, which is preparation time for the coming of the Prince of Peace, the irony is that Advent is lined up with (or against) the time of the year that is perhaps the most chaotic, confusing -- and unpeaceful.

I trust that Lectio Divina and Paul's wisdom will provide a spiritual anchor for us. I will be sharing regular ponderings on my blog. I invite us to take this journey together.

How The Online Discussion Will Work

As a guide, during the four weeks of Advent I will focus on the reading as follows:

1. Nov. 28 - Dec. 4: Chapter 1
2. Dec. 5 - 11: Chapter 2
3. Dec. 12 - 18: Chapter 3
4. Dec. 19 - 24: Chapters 4-6

You are invited to post your own insights and reflections in the comments section at the end of each post. While I look forward to reading everyone's reflections, I regret that I won't be able to respond to individual comments.

Support And Protect Our Children

Imagine a large empty room. Place a group of children in the center. The children may be the children of your church, the children of the local community, the children of the world -- or a combination of all three.

Then imagine the four corners of the room, each promoting its unique cultural influence. One corner is the mall. Another corner is the entertainment industry. The third is the sports industry, and the fourth is the violence industry (in both its legal and illegal forms). Each corner bombards the room with messages -- well-funded and market-tested messages that beg the children’s attention, and that boast of some immediate glory if the children head in their direction.

Surrounding the children is the body of Christ. That’s us. On one level, the body of Christ is no match for the relentless, if not ruthless, messages coming from the four corners. We can’t buy the air time. We can’t produce the technical wizardry which provides such astounding promises.

But we can provide relationship and guidance and hope that is real and abiding. And necessary.

Children are vulnerable -- to no end of unhealthy cultural influences, to each other (with the escalating incidence of bullying) -- and increasingly, to poverty. One in four children in the United States lives in poverty. In the last twenty years, 300 million people from around the world have died of poverty-related causes. Most of them were children.

Last spring, the interfaith group I work with in Newark -- the Newark Interfaith Coalition for Hope and Peace, came up with a message: support and protect our children. We are hoping to have the message on T-shirts, and next spring when the Dalai Lama comes to Newark to bring his unique message of peace, to have the message on billboards.

Support and protect our children. That is what the body of Christ does as it surrounds the children. It is not an easy job. On one level our kids often indicate that they don’t want us to surround them for protection and support. They often insist that they can do it on their own. Or we can’t gather the kids in order to surround them.

Support and protect our children. It is holy work. The newly created Justice Board of the Diocese (made up of deputies to General Convention along with some other folks in the diocese with a demonstrated commitment to justice) has identified children as the primary focus for our justice work in the diocese. The purpose of the Justice Board is to sort through the many issues that come our way -- by way of General Convention, international concerns or local community needs. When we think of hunger, I invite you to think of kids. When we engage in homeless ministry or environmental work -- or respond to any of the eight Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) endorsed by the United Nations in 2000, I invite you to imagine faces of children who are most affected if we don’t make more progress on those goals.

The Justice Board and I will be formulating opportunities and challenges to galvanize the ministries of congregations and individuals in the area of justice -- with a focus on children. I invite you to do the same. We know that our children are our future. How we surround them -- and protect and support them, is a benchmark for how well we live out the invitation -- and challenges -- of the Christian faith.

For more about the Justice Board, please see “A Witness To Justice” on page 10 of the September 2010 Voice.

Photo by M. Christyanne Ward.