I feel a bit awkward in writing this post. It is probably because I feel insufficient to be the one writing on this topic. I hold views about which I could easily get polemical...but I don't, or at least I try not to. I am committed to speaking my truth as through my experience in this world and in conversation with the Word of God (this is what I call self-responsibility). I am committed to voice. Voice meaning the proclamation and bearing witness of God experienced through my sense of agency. I give myself permission to take up space in this world. My feminist lens reminds me that many women and people of color often do not feel empowered to take up space because the dominate voice controls the landscape. In some sense I am aware that my very, נֶפֶש - nephesh (body, soul, mind), can initiate conflict by my mere presence.
Speaking Your Truth
I yearn for people to offer their truth and experiences in the public discourse just as much as I expect it from me. When people offer themselves there is bound to be tension, disagreement, and a difference of opinion. It can be uncomfortable and sometimes we don’t know what to do when we feel uncomfortable. Thus when someone offers their perspective that differs from ours we internalize this as someone attacking us thus we sometimes fight back with words that are quite mean and downright degrading of the image of God in the community around us.
Political Arena
An easy example of these mean spirited words (I won’t even say conversation) is often found in our political discourse. Our politicians sometimes act like hungry predators tearing apart their prey but they have forgotten that they are neither predator nor prey but people exchanging public policy in the efforts to better care and govern our nation. So the political arena, which is supposed to be filled with elected officials who care about the shaping of the city, often look more like a bunch of apes beating their chests to show they are the more powerful one. Politicians, who we elect to speak their truth because it resonates with our truth, end up spending more time, than I like to see, berating and belittling those who think differently than them.
What has happened to our discourse? Why is civility so damn difficult? How do we recover civility?
Richard Mouw
Every week I listen to Krista Tippett and her podcast On Being. On August 18, 2011 Ms. Tippett interviewed the president of Fuller Seminary, Richard Mouw. I sat captivated to their conversation as Mr. Mouw and Ms. Tippett engaged the topic of restoring political civility. His words and his composure were beautiful and refreshing. I offer the podcast to you here as I wonder with you all, how do we recover civility while being committed to speaking our truth? I am not interested in a watered down “niceness”. I am not interested in finding the lowest common denominator to unite us. I am, however, interested in people who hold different opinions coming together in civil conversation. How do we do this?
Love has been on my mind a lot lately. It's kind of the thing that theologically progressive Christian pastors hang their hat on when interpreting the Scripture. It also happens to be the thing that Augustine hung his hat on when interpreting the Scripture. In his book On Christian Doctrine he said, “The fulfillment and end of Scripture is the love of God and our neighbor.” This two-fold love is the window in which I choose to read the Bible through when preparing for a sermon, Bible Study or personal meditation
If you have been following the lectionary we are currently reading 1 John which is packed full of the topic of love. These texts have left me perplexed, challenged, and wondering what exactly does it mean to incarnate love? Then I think of John 3:16 when the author writes, “For God so loved the world….” The world in Greek here is cosmos, which doesn’t mean only an elect group of people but cosmos is an all-encompassing word, which means everything in this universe. One definition of cosmos I found that I particularly like says that cosmos means “the ungodly multitude”. Ah yes, for God so loved the ungodly multitude as well as those pretending to be godlier than they are. God loves all and God is love, period.
But again, what exactly does it mean to incarnate love in our daily lives. Here I look to 1 Corinthians 13 to give me an idea of some descriptors of love. I am reminded when I read this chapter that love is expansive, detailed, and quite aware of the community and not just the individual. Which leads me to believe that I probably fit more under “the ungodly multitude” definition of cosmos because the way I love doesn’t always match up with the way 1 Corinthians 13 suggests what love is.
Paul Tillich says that the first duty of love is to listen. This is powerful. Especially as a New Yorker where people rarely give you their full attention (and truth be told I rarely offer my full attention) - it is counter-cultural to listen to someone. When I listen to someone and their story I am choosing to say I am for you and I am making the movement of solidarity with you. No wonder it’s hard for us to love people because we are often so concerned with drawing lines of who is in and who is out - but that’s not incarnating love. Love is the movement of solidarity. Jesus made the movement of solidarity with us; Jesus incarnates love. That’s whom I want to follow.
I often say how much I love New York City – I do, I really do love it here. This video reminds me of John 3:16 and all the types of people God loves and thus all the types of people I should love. Granted, I fail royally at loving the way God loves. And yet I rest assured that God, who is love, never does fail. God sustains it all. I think if Paul Tillich is right, then God is listening to all these stories that are represented in this video. If God is listening to these stories then maybe God is making the movement of solidarity with each of them. Maybe that is what it means to enflesh the hermeneutic of love -- to make the movement of solidarity with those around us.
"and your very flesh shall be a great poem" - Walt Whitman
Musical Roots
Along with playing pastor as a little girl I would also play rock star -- singing around the house like I was killin' it at a concert (and truth-be-told I may still do this on my days off...I'm just sayin'...). Music was in my household growing up. Though Dad didn't sing, and still doesn't, I remember him playing all these old school vinyls in his work area. Which made me wanna get a record player in my early 20's to be cool like him and all my hipster friends. But I soon realized I was a product of Steve Jobs and found the convenience of the iPod too alluring. Mom was the church choir director, soloist extraordinaire, and had loads of sheet music lying around the house that was as easy for me to read as the Greek New Testament (note: hardest class in seminary, Greek). While I wish I could perform dynamic solos like my mother did, I can't. Something about my aural perception that makes me unable to sing the notes in tune by myself. It's a sad reality. But this reality hasn't stopped me from devouring and learning about music.
Theopoetics
Anyone who knows me knows I love, love, love music. Music is where some of my best theology comes alive. Good music is poetry. Poetry inspires me, moves me, and tells truth (usually). I am a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Reformed Church in America but I translate that static title into Theopoet. I am/want to be a Theopoet as a minister -- I want the work I do as a minister to be art. I want this art to be the kind of art that tells stories of the Holy Scripture, of God, of humanity, of the soil, and of the tension of beauty and decay we live in. Music teaches me how to become the artist I am and want to be.
I remember when I was working at Mars Hill Church in Michigan and Rob Bell and I were talking about the work we do as pastors. He told me that he sees himself first and foremost as an artist. As an artist his medium of making art is in sermons, books, videos, and speaking engagements. This conversation planted the seed to see the dynamic, artful task the minister has as she dances with the Scripture and breathes out the stories of God to the people. I want to minister in such a way that, through the Holy Spirit, I inspire an imaginative reading of the Word that compels people to follow the way of Jesus in brand-new, courageous, life-affirming ways. This is the dance with God I partake in, daily.
WECC
My peeps at West End Collegiate Church are teaching me how to become a Theopoet as I am teaching them how to love God and love others. WECC is full of artists -- Broadway and opera talent; actors and actresses galore; musicians who play and sing at Carnegie, Lincoln Center, and the many other lovely smaller venues; and the plethora of peeps who are working their smaller gigs who are waiting for their break. These artists are teaching me, one of their pastors, how to become a Theopoet just by their presence. The stories they tell in their films, songs, and shows teach me how to be more creative with the Holy Story of God and God's people.They inspire me to become a Thepoetic minister. They free me up to tell The Story differently, faithfully, but differently. Their presence beckons me to be a minister that digs deep in order to become an artist in the pulpit and in the liturgical movements on Sunday morning. Worship is becoming an hour of lived poetry for me. I bless God for WECC, identity awakening, and the movements of the Spirit's art in worship.
Walt Whitman
"and your very flesh shall be a great poem" - Walt Whitman
What if this quote was true of the ecclesia? What if people looked at the church and instead of chastising us for being hypocrites (which we are -- totally depraved baby!) people instead looked at us and said "those who call themselves Christians are living poetry". What if we became the type of poem that rested solely in the lavisheness of God's grace which compelled us to have an expansive knowledge of God's love? I wonder what might happen if we became poems of God’s story?
I crave Tuesdays. I extend my hand to the man whose skin is colder than mine and dirtier than mine. His hands rough; each callous a story of survival. His hand greets mine; mine soft and small, tipped with black polish. I look him in the eyes and offer him dignity. I call him "sir" and he mumbles with his head down. Some cold, calloused hands greet me with a smile and say "Hello Reverend Jes". I tear up, just as I am now, I am Reverend Jes. When did I become the big kid and put on these big kid clothes?
Today one hand, hers, asked me to tell the story of Holy Week. She asked me to tell her what this all means. "You want me to tell you about Palm Sunday to Easter?" "Yes, but let me write this down". This is a pastors dream. So I begin with Palm Sunday and tell her about the crowd shouting Hosanna. I tell her about this man Jesus who the people believed were going to save them and how that meant different things to different people. I told her that there is a story that when Jesus was entering Jerusalem some of the political peeps were annoyed and wanted the crowd to quiet down but Jesus said that even if they were to shut-up the rocks themselves would cry out. She stopped writing and looks at me "For real? He said that?" "Yes" "Ah man, that's a good line. I gotta write that one down". This moment is enchanted -- I am on sacred ground.
I continue telling her the story of a dinner, of breaking bread with a man you love and that man betraying you. I tell her of a people, of a government, killing an innocent man. I tell her that this story is about God forsaking God. I tell her of disappointment and silence. I then tell her of two women and resurrection. "You know when you think death has the last word?" "Yes" she replies. "Well in this story death doesn't have the last word -- but it does have a word. Death and new life are held together".
By this time she has two sides of her canary colored lined paper filled up. "What do you think?" I inquire. "This is one dope story. I gotta write about this tonight." So do I...so do I..
Jes Kast-Keat | Wednesday, March 21, 2012 at 10:50AM
Enneagram
I love personality tests. They provide me the tools to know more about me, those around me, and help us understand why we do what we do. Of all the personality assessments that are out there I am most fond of the enneagram. Ennea what? Glad you asked. The enneagram is a nine pointed geometric figure that represents nine basic personality types and shows the interconnectedness of each type. While the enneagram has more recently been popularized by Don Risso and Russ Hudson in the RHETI personality assessment the origins of the enneagram goes back much farther. The Christian mystic, Evagrius Ponticus, wrote about the ideas of the enneagram in his 4th century writings.
8
I am an eight on the enneagram which means that I generally like to be in control and mostly have no problem at asserting my truth. Those of us who are eight-types are sometimes named “the challengers” because we are the people that like to challenge ourselves and those around us. Put another way, I remember coming home from college and in a moment of nostalgia went into the basement to explore boxes from my childhood. One box I opened up was full of books with titles like How to Rear the Strong-Willed Child, What to do When Your Child has No Problem Saying No, and the blessed Dr. James Dobson’s book The Strong-Willed Child. I asked my mom why she had these books and she just looked at me and laughed. Strong-willed to the core since I was young (maybe some of you are raising children who were like me…it gets better, promise). But when eights are unaware we do a great job at dominating people, controlling others, and sometimes making people feel like crap (guilty of all of this!). All this to say it comes very natural for me to be against people and ideas that don’t fit into my values. But I’m afraid when I stand in the energy of against I lose the power of truly being an influential disciple of Jesus.
Brian McLaren + Diana Butler Bass
Two weeks ago I was in Marco Island with my peer learning group facilitated by Wes Granberg-Michaelson. The nine of us hung out at Brian McLaren’s house all day and welcomed Diana Butler Bass to join us in the afternoon as we hung out by the pool talking about the future of the church and issues of social justice. For this church geek it was magical. I have had the opportunity to be with Brian over meals before and every time I am with him I am utterly impressed by his graciousness and his ability to hear, listen, and respond (not react). I think I hold him up as one of the most enlightened church people I know. When I hear him talk I know I want to talk like him. I’m not saying I want to replicate his message (though I resonate with his message) I want to instead emulate his method. The way he chooses to talk with people is the message.
Belhar Confession – Unity
Everything about the Belhar Confession resounds as truth in my flesh. I have particularly been meditating on this line for the past six months, “Unity is, therefore, both a gift and an obligation for the church of Jesus Christ; that through the working of God's Spirit it is a binding force, yet simultaneously a reality which must be earnestly pursued and sought: one which the people of God must continually be built up to attain”. When I read this and reflect upon the current climate in the Reformed Church in America I wonder what the heck unity means? What in the world does it mean to incarnate the truth of the unity of the body of Christ? Is it possible for us to be so moved by the Scripture we love and have such vastly different opinions on issues that matter? I brought this question up to Brian and asked him if he thinks it’s possible for unity. I asked him how do we enflesh unity when we can’t even name certain topics, some want to break away, and mistrust seems pretty apparent. Brian’s words to me were “move towards”. He went on and this is how it landed on my ears, “move towards those who hold different opinions on topics that are passionately important to you..., move towards those who want to condemn you..., move towards those who curse you..., and move towards those who crawl under your skin.” Ummm…thanks Brian but don’t you remember I’m an eight and I like being against? Yet he was speaking truth and in my body I knew it. The way to unity, not a watered down unity, but true unity is the movement towards people and bringing your needs in that movement towards.
Moving Towards
I’ve been reflecting on this “moving toward” theology and realizing that this has echoes of Jesus on the Sermon on the Mount. So let me offer two personal reflections on what moving towards means for me.
As a board member on Room for All I am aware there are those in the denomination who curse me/us because they believe we are being unbiblical for advocating for LGBT inclusion. Incarnating a moving towards theology means I do not curse back, I seek to befriend the one cursing me, and I affirm the image of God and fight hard to love those who think differently than me. I offer empathy to hear the need behind the one throwing the curse. I stay in the conversation even when the conversation is delicate and thin.
In my family we talk about the two things all the time: religion and politics. Trust me; we all have very different and vibrant opinions. A moving toward theology then demands of me that I must not curse the candidates my family are rooting for and instead seek to understand what’s at stake for them. I also have the responsibility to offer why I posture myself the way I do and what’s at stake for me.
As an eight-type enneagram I am finding this moving toward theology is a very powerful way of navigating conflict (and eight-types like power so this is a win!). In moving-toward people grace is apparent as incarnated exemplary in Brian McLaren and the love of neighbor is incarnated. Isn’t this what this Jesus business is about?
TEDxMactawa – Ann McKnight
Recently my friend (and a fellow eight-type) Ann McKnight spoke at TEDxMactawa on the topic of turning toward conflict. She is brilliant, gracious, strong, and just as sassy as every other eight I know…I love her. She is someone else I look to who has it a bit more figured out than I do in this moving toward theology. She incarnates the graciousness of God, not in a watered down cheesy VBS way, but truly in a powerful expansive Gospel presence. In conclusion I offer her TED talk to you as another medium to engage what moving toward might mean for you.
Jes Kast-Keat | 