tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18265412789239538102024-03-04T22:38:17.421-06:00Anglican Community ProjectExploring the Renewal of Anglicanism through Intentional CommunityRev. Dr. Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13876155630669396163noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-77041846576501518802016-09-01T13:15:00.002-05:002016-09-01T13:15:26.716-05:00The Benedict Option in 2016<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Rod Dreher continues to write about the Benedict Option on a weekly basis, and has a book coming out on the subject. I think it is an approach (among many) that merits serious consideration. Utopian dreams aside, what would it take to create such a community?<br />
I think the best way to start something like this is to move to the same neighborhood, be that in a city, suburb, or smaller rural town. In my reality, that means staying in the same urban area that I live in, because that is where jobs are. Perhaps moving to the outskirts of major urban areas would make sense for this kind of approach.<br />
I am really just thinking out loud, but I would like to put some flesh on the bones of a theory. What does the Benedict Option (or whatever we want to call some kind of community organized to preserve our faith) look like in reality? How do things like the following work?<br />
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<li>Housing</li>
<li>Jobs</li>
<li>Church</li>
<li>Relation to government</li>
<li>Education</li>
<li>Preservation of texts</li>
<li>Dealing with people who lose faith in the concept </li>
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jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-87792635755046168272015-03-25T10:58:00.002-05:002015-03-25T10:58:26.939-05:00The Challenges for Neighborliness amongst Suburban SprawlOne of my passions as a church planter is to think more deeply about how the church can better inhabit our communities. I want <a href="http://emmausanglican.wix.com/" target="_blank">our church</a> to arise out of and serve our community here in Carol Stream. Community describes our <i>life together</i> within the church. That is internal community. Community is also where our church <i>lives together with our neighbors</i>. That is external community. And both matter. We must be intentional about both. Or else our mission will lose something vital--the real, embodied presence of Jesus Christ <i>in</i> our neighborhood.<br />
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I am convinced that many suburban churches struggle or fail at evangelism because they are not that living presence of Jesus in their various suburban neighborhoods. Outreach then feels and looks artificial. It becomes programmatic, assigned to a few church leaders or passionate lay people. It is not the living reality of who a church is. And unbelievers instinctively feel it.<br />
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But the context of suburban life is itself a huge obstacle to being that living presence. I am also well aware how we in suburban America confront certain challenges in doing community well. One significant factor, I believe, is so-called suburban sprawl. It is an intentional design of city planners to give the suburbanite maximal discretionary space for his/her individual life. And it creates obstacles for the church's mission.<br />
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In this post, I explore the challenge posed by suburban sprawl to the mission of the church. In future posts, I want to offer alternative visions for what might be instead. Specifically, here, I consider how suburban sprawl poses significant challenges for <b>neighborliness</b>.<br />
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I believe sprawl was born because modern American suburban planners thought they were giving people what they wanted or needed (or both). We wanted or needed our own little acre (or half- or quarter- or eighth-acre, or whatever) for a single-family home. That home was (is?) a signal feature of the American dream. And the easiest, most efficient way to plan for vast expanses of such homes was to group them all together, side-by-side, street-by-street, neatly into their own communities. Thus, the birth of the subdivision. Then connecting subdivisions would be vast stretches of arterial roads to deliver residents efficiently to and from work and play, shopping and home. (Today these roads have often grown into large, 4- and 6-lane divided highways, clogged by commuter traffic every morning, noon and night!) Note how everything along those arterial roads is zoned for commercial and (light) industrial purposes--the supermarkets, department stores, restaurants and places of employment suburbanites needed. Maybe you can find some multifamily housing along those busier arterial roads, but almost never a single family home. Those belong--only--in subdivisions.<br />
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For example: Where I live, the streets all pretty much run in straight, parallel lines. (The flat topography of Illinois wars against curves of all sorts.) So subdivisions of single family homes are sliced and diced at right angles, east-west and north-south. There is very little commercial or industrial real estate within (easy) walking distance. What there is, though, are large traffic arteries within a couple blocks of each home, ready to take us to commerce or industry--as we so choose. With very few exceptions, to take care of creaturely needs or comforts, you must drive. In fact, in our immediate neighborhood, we have no sidewalks, so if we walk anywhere we must walk in the road, contending with cars!<br />
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In one sense, it is a grand ideal: the home is a peaceful reality cordoned off from the hectic of commerce and work. It is a refuge, a safe haven--my own 'personal castle,' as it were, from the hubbub of contemporary life. <i>My home, my very own personal retreat center!</i><br />
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But those expanses and those roads, they also cut me off from my neighbors. The roads that slice and dice my neighborhood slice off one family from another; they dice a community into atomistic units which rarely interact with one another. And those same arteries that carry me miles away from home for work, food and fun? Their very existence means I have little or no on-going personal relationship with my workplace, with the stores or storekeepers who might provide my food, or with the places where I have fun. They are isolated from, external to my neighborhood. That isolation seems to reinforce the assumption that they exist <i>only</i> for utilitarian purposes.<br />
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To be fair, our sprawl could be worse. We are delighted that in our neighborhood (aerial picture above) there are two nice parks within an easy walk. The Illinois Prairie Path is a little less than a half mile away. Our beloved bowling alley, <a href="http://www.wheatonbowling.com/" target="_blank">Wheaton Bowl</a>, is also only a block from my house. (We drive that distance, however, for two reasons, one very much based in sprawl: first, bowling balls are heavy and second, we would take our lives in our hands trying to cross a busy, four lane artery to get there!) Save for these conveniences, we would be afflicted even worse by suburban sprawl.<br />
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In general, sprawl is our reality. I cannot realistically shop for dinner or clothing or other goods by walking. I have to include usually at least 30 minutes of travel time (there and back), holed up alone in my car, when I do go out. <i>At least</i>. And I have little or no incidental contact with folks in my surrounding neighborhood, except for maybe people within a block of my home.<br />
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The <b>challenges for neighborliness</b>--that art of living together well with whomever happens to be next door--are pretty clear.<br />
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<b>First, we do not enjoy enough <i>shared spaces</i>. As a result, we might not even know our neighbors because it takes an effort to overcome the distance. </b>I learned this lesson the hard way. I still feel ashamed about it. We did get to know our next door neighbors to the north of us when, some years ago, we first moved in our neighborhood. They were a kind, elderly couple who loved to see our infant son. A few years later, during one of those brutal midwest winters, we lost touch with them. We did not see them outside for several months. And when we were back outside, I did not notice until months later that I had not seen the husband for a while. Yes, he had passed away and I did not even know it until months had gone by. <b style="font-style: italic;">If you live in suburban America, you must make an intentional effort to know your neighbors because you can go weeks and months without even seeing them. </b>That distance and lack of shared space is a challenge to neighborliness.<br />
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<b>Second, we do not have enough <i>shared experiences</i>. </b>Consider this contrast: Living in multi-family housing puts people in closer proximity to one another. There is a greater shared reality--a shared experience of life in the same building. In urban contexts, neighbors are more likely to shop at the same stores or eat at the same restaurants because they are within a certain walking radius from where they live (and driving is sometimes impractical because of parking). In both multi-family and urban contexts, there are more shared experiences rooted in shared place. Let me be clear: I am not romanticizing living in an apartment complex or in an urban neighborhood. The point is rather to show this: how the single-family suburbs are more isolated than two alternative modes of living. <b><i>So suburban isolation is a challenge to neighborliness because you and your neighbor have less of life to connect you.</i></b><br />
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The final challenge is a bit more speculative, but here it is:<br />
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<b>Third, I am convinced that the distance and isolation of the suburbs create a false sense that neighborliness is itself <i>optional</i>.</b> The suburbs school us in certain individualistic assumptions about ourselves and our neighbors. If you do not have to know your neighbors, and if you have even relatively few common experiences, why should you bother to care about them? I'm not saying you wish ill upon your neighbors. No, that would be far too 'unnice' for most Americans. Rather, I think we often blissfully go through life <b>ignoring</b> them. Again, probably not with a hostile or unfeeling heart. Rather, the distance and isolation of American suburb makes it far too easy for us go about our merry, self-absorbed way without our neighbor ever really entering the picture.<br />
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As a consequence, we do not even bother with the question which Jesus wants to bother us with: <b><i>Who is my neighbor? What do I owe her or him?</i></b> (Luke 10.25-37) Of course, Jesus's answer in that passage is the parable of the Good Samaritan. And basically, that parable removes any doubt about who our neighbor is (or is in God's eyes): our neighbor is anyone and everyone whom we meet. Jesus insists that <b>you do not choose your neighbors as much as you encounter them along life's way</b>. And when you do, you should be prepared to be a good, caring neighbor to all. What do I owe my neighbor? Compassion: We should help bear our neighbor's burdens. Care for them with a generous, self-denying concern.<br />
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Let me put it bluntly: <b>being a good neighbor--according to the Jesus way--<i>is</i> the mission of the church! </b>It is the mode in which we should be making disciples wherever we go. But if the suburb atomizes neighbors from one another--if it keeps us from sharing space, experiences and <i>life</i> together--how do we live differently in the suburbs? That's the subject for future posts!Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12470962136640196969noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-90740791353636527082014-07-18T15:57:00.002-05:002014-07-18T16:32:44.384-05:00Communal Suburban Living<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.rubbermaid.com/assets/images/tipsandsolution/outdoor-order-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.rubbermaid.com/assets/images/tipsandsolution/outdoor-order-large.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">The focus of most of my thinking about intentional community within the Anglican tradition has two foci: the academy and the suburbs. I focus on the academy because until just this summer, my professional home has been in the academy for my entire adult life. And while I have enjoyed urban living briefly in stints in my 20's and early 30's, I was raised in the suburbs, have lived in the suburbs most of my life and am living here now. So I guess that makes me a suburbanite.</span></div>
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Part of my vision for <a href="http://www.greenhousemovement.com/index.php/pages/steve_lake" target="_blank">my new ministry venture</a>, <a href="http://emmausanglican.wix.com/home" target="_blank">Emmaus Road Anglican Fellowship</a>, is to turn the suburban culture on its head. There are things we do every day in the suburbs that we could do better if we did them communally. So I thought I would stop and run off a quick blog post before I undertake a great suburban ritual that fits that bill perfectly--namely, mowing my lawn. A suburban church could turn the suburban culture on its head if it fostered such community that its members shared expensive and rarely used lawn tools like lawnmowers, rakes, shovels, etc. <br />
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Let's face it: There is no good reason that lawnmowers, used about once a week from late spring to late fall, sit idle most days in our suburban garages and sheds. We should be able to share, especially us Christians who--allegedly--believe that even that mower is on loan to us from our Father who owns the cattle on a 1,000 hills. The same thing goes for all sorts of other lawn and garden tools. </div>
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What's more, an servant-minded church <i>should</i> mow the lawns of the elderly or shut-ins...if we only knew them well enough to know of their needs. But do we? </div>
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Three incidents drove this home to me:</div>
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First, we have had a couple of terrible storms since we moved into our suburban home. Twice the power has been knocked out for 50 hours. It was a difficult time but made so much more bearable by the spontaneous outbreak of suburban community we experienced. For the first storm I did not have a power generator but one of my neighbors did. He gave us power to keep our food fresh in the fridge and our sump pump pumping. I acquired my own generator by the next storm and paid that good dead forward to other neighbors. </div>
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Lesson: Sharing large tools and equipment only makes sense. It is part of how we can serve each other and the common good.</div>
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Second, a neighbor once asked me where I got my lawn mower. He was in the market to buy a new one. I told him where, but then I offered to let him borrow mine each week. If he would agree to refill after each use, that would more than compensate me. He looked at me like I was crazy. And bought his own.</div>
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Lesson: Sharing things is counter-cultural. The church needs to model it. If we did, maybe it would not be so odd when we offer to serve our neighborhood by sharing.</div>
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Final incident: An friend of mine, a retired cop who is not a church-goer, recently told me how he has, for years, mowed an elderly neighbor's lawn. For free. No money exchanged, he just did it because the neighbor needed it. Here is a non-Christian who seems to understand more about the Jesus way of living than many American Christians! He told me how someone in the neighborhood once noticed him doing it and was astonished he did it for free. But my friend insisted it was just the right and good thing to do for one's neighbor.</div>
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Lesson: How often have we, as Christians, spontaneously and without any compensation, served our neighbors? Imagine if that were a pervasive part of our <i>church</i> culture. We would act not just because it is the right and good thing to do for a neighbor in need. We would also be visibly acting in Jesus's name. Such selfless living might give us and our Lord a lot more credibility in the eyes of our neighbors if they knew 'those church-goers' as the good servants of the neighborhood. </div>
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Let's ask ourselves, then, how we can create a culture of sharing in our suburbs. It is one of the things I hope we practice well at Emmaus Road Anglican. And maybe, just maybe they will know we are Christians by how we <i>share</i>.</div>
Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12470962136640196969noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-85583997490220313982012-06-13T12:28:00.001-05:002012-06-13T12:28:01.503-05:00Another Benedict Option PostFrom Rod Dreher:<br />
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<a href="http://www.theamericanconservative.com/dreher/the-benedict-option-secularist/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=the-benedict-option-secularist">A Secularist Sees The Benedict Option</a>: <br />
I haven’t mentioned it in a while, but a few years ago, in my book “Crunchy Cons,” I suggested that traditionalists should consider what I called “the Benedict Option” — living in variations of monastic communities for the sake of preserving certain countercultural values in an increasingly dark age. The name comes from the Benedictine monks of Western Europe, whose monasteries were oases of faith, order, and light during the Dark Ages, and eventually helped midwife the rebirth of civilization.<br />
Cultural historian Morris Berman thinks this might be necessary. From a review of his <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Why-America-Failed-Imperial-Decline/dp/1118061810">new book “Why America Failed”</a>; the reviewer is George Scialabba:<br />
<blockquote>As a former medievalist, Berman finds contemporary parallels to the fall of Rome compelling. By the end of the empire, he points out, economic inequality was drastic and increasing, the legitimacy and efficacy of the state was waning, popular culture was debased, civic virtue among elites was practically nonexistent, and imperial military commitments were hopelessly unsustainable. As these volumes abundantly illustrate, this is 21st century America in a nutshell. The capstone of Berman’s demonstration is a sequence of three long, brilliant chapters in <em>Dark Ages America</em> on the Cold War, the Pax Americana, CIA and military interventions in the Third World, and in particular U.S. policy in the Middle East, where racism and rapacity have combined to produce a stunning debacle. Our hysterical national response to 9/11 — our inability even to make an effort to comprehend the long-festering consequences of our imperial predations — portended, as clearly as anything could, the demise of American global supremacy.<br />
What will become of us? After Rome’s fall, wolves wandered through the cities and Europe largely went to sleep for six centuries. That will not happen again; too many transitions — demographic, ecological, technological, cybernetic — have intervened. The planet’s metabolism has altered. The new Dark Ages will be socially, politically, and spiritually dark, but the economic Moloch — mass production and consumption, destructive growth, instrumental rationality — will not disappear. Few Americans want it to. We are hollow, Berman concludes. It is a devastatingly plausible conclusion.<br />
An interval — long or short, only the gods can say — of oligarchic, intensely surveilled, bread-and-circuses authoritarianism, <em>Blade Runner-</em> or <em>Fahrenheit 451</em>-style, seems the most likely outlook for the 21st and 22nd centuries. Still, if most humans are shallow and conformist, some are not. There is reason to hope that the ever fragile but somehow perennial traditions and virtues of solidarity, curiosity, self-reliance, courtesy, voluntary simplicity, and an instinct for beauty will survive, even if underground for long periods. And cultural rebirths do occur, or at any rate have occurred.<br />
Berman offers little comfort, but he does note a possible role for those who perceive the inevitability of our civilization’s decline. He calls it the “monastic option.” Our eclipse may, after all, not be permanent; and meanwhile individuals and small groups may preserve the best of our culture by living against the grain, within the interstices, by “creating ‘zones of intelligence’ in a private, local way, and then deliberately keeping them out of the public eye.” Even if one’s ideals ultimately perish, this may be the best way to live while they are dying.</blockquote>On his blog, <a href="http://morrisberman.blogspot.com/2012/04/pitirim-sorokin_28.html">Berman discusses Pitirim Sorokin</a>, the Harvard sociologist who, 75 years ago, predicted the crisis of culture that has only deepened in our own time. Longtime readers will remember that we talked a lot about Sorokin in this space a few years ago. It might be worth revisiting Sorokin’s work, which is stunning in its prescience.<br />
Before you go out and buy the Berman book, be aware that Michiko Kakutani, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/16/books/16book.html">reviewing it in the NYTimes</a>, denounced his previous volume thus: “This is the sort of book that gives the Left a bad name.”<br />
(<a href="http://andrewsullivan.thedailybeast.com/">Via Sullivan</a>).jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-10341520574629118222012-06-13T09:23:00.001-05:002012-06-13T09:23:00.688-05:00New Benedict Option StuffRod Dreher has published several posts on the Benedict Option lately, which I will link here for future reference:<br />
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<a href="http://www.theamericanconservative.com/dreher/tomorrows-christianity-today/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=tomorrows-christianity-today">Tomorrow’s Christianity Today</a>: <br />
<a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/jonathanwilsonhartgrove/2012/06/a-school-for-the-world-to-come/">Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove gets all Benedict Option-y:</a><br />
<blockquote>By the end of the fifth century, when a middle-class, young Italian named Benedict left his home in Nursia to go to school in Rome, the Empire that had been centered there was in total disarray. The church whose faith had become the official religion of that Empire was in turmoil. It was in every way a time of transition. In short, it was a moment not unlike our own. Everyone knew that a new future was being born, but no one was sure just what it would look like.<br />
In a moment of clarity, Benedict saw that the system of education that had been designed to prepare him for a world that was passing away could only lead to a dead end. While it could teach him what had worked in the past, the system did not have the resources to present a way forward. A different kind of school was needed. Benedict had a hunch that the Desert Mothers and Fathers were creating it. He went to a cave, built himself a prayer cell, and so matriculated in the “university” of the world-to-come.<br />
We started <a href="http://newmonasticism.org/about.php">School for Conversion</a> out of a conviction that the challenges we face today demand an alternative form of theological education. With kids in the neighborhood, with folks inside of prisons, and with people in radical faith communities, we’ve been carving out spaces to imagine a new society in the shell of the old. Our experiments are small, but they’ve taught me something important: people are hungry—starving, even—for spaces to imagine the world-to-come. Even if they’ve never heard of him, folks today resonate with Benedict.</blockquote>JWH has <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Rule-Saint-Benedict-Contemporary/dp/1557259739/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1339430262&sr=1-1&keywords=rule+of+benedict+wilson-hartgrove">a new paraphrase of the Rule of St. Benedict</a> out, so contemporary Christians can learn more easily from it. Looks pretty interesting.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-16457115722371938512012-02-16T08:19:00.000-06:002012-02-16T08:21:19.543-06:00Craig Bartholomew on PlaceThis <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/thisisourcity/7thcity/craig-bartholomew.html?paging=off">interview</a> has a lot of affinities with a Benedict Option future for the Church. A sample:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>In your book, you not only provide a biblical and theological discussion of the concept of place, but do so in a way that addresses the crisis of place in contemporary culture. What's the nature of the crisis</b>?</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What we are experiencing in our world is a wide sense of displacement, which does not lead to human flourishing. Outside Christian circles, the literature on the crisis of place is huge, but within Christianity, it's only starting to get attention.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Contemporary life roots against this deep implacement through the speed of culture, technology, the automobile, and the state of economics. The middle class is always on the go <em style="z-index: 0;">through</em> places and are not generally deeply rooted in a particular place.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When I travel I have opportunities to see new places, but many are all the same corporate chain stores that we have here in Hamilton. Everything is monochrome. All the houses look the same, and houses are not viewed as homes but as assets. Wendell Berry wrote that "a house for sale is not a home." It is not wrong to move, but if we want to flourish as humans, the house must become a home, not an economic asset.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I want to wake Christians up to the crisis and have them take off their blinders. We are out of touch with what is going on. Christians haven't led the way on this issue. Non-Christians are capable of enormous insight and in a sense, we have to catch up.</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>What contributes to Christians' blinders</b>?</span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The diagnosis is that we have lost a robust doctrine of creation. Place is rooted in the doctrine of creation. If we recover that doctrine of creation and see the wonderful redemption in Christ as God recovering his purposes for his whole creation, then suddenly all these issues—like city, home, gardening, and farming—are spiritual and thus not second-rate.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of the several hundred thousand churches in the United States, many are property owners. Just imagine if each of these churches attended closely to their property as a place and develop it in healthy—not necessarily expensive—ways. This would make a major contribution to the commons of our culture and bear plausible witness to Christ. Just as the creation constantly declares God's goodness and power (Psalm 19), so too our places would continually bear witness to this extraordinary God who has come to us in Christ.</span></blockquote>
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If my wild idea for moving to a certain place and in effect "colonizing" it does not work, the next best thing is to flourish where we are at and sink deep roots into a place, rather than forever longing to be somewhere else - Florida, Arizona, or wherever.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-72051912261808018032011-12-07T12:04:00.000-06:002011-12-07T12:04:23.722-06:00Theoretical Words via Leithart<a href="http://www.leithart.com/2011/12/06/theoretical-words/">Theoretical words</a>: <p>Eric Gregory offers this wise counsel: “Words do not work the same way in normative theorizing as they do in historical inquiry. It is enough that ‘Donatist,’ ‘Pelagian,’ and “Manichean’ exist as live options in moral, political, and religious discourse – even if Augustine or later storytellers invented them in order to coordinate doctrine with their experience of God in Christian faith and practice. These words, and the narrative scripts they signify, provide broad classifications for a range of commitments.”</p><br /><p>Historical study has an important role in helping “dislodge settled grooves of thought and make us skeptical of the stories we tell. They can show the normative consequences of how we construct intellectual histories. They can also challenge us with an Augustine we thought we already knew by helping us understand the world behind the texts.” But also those uses don’t rob terms like “Stoic,” “Platonic” or “Augustinian” of their conceptual usefulness, especially in “normative theorizing.”</p>jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-49048181689841464982011-11-08T18:03:00.001-06:002011-11-08T18:03:28.795-06:00Dreher Follows up on the Crunchy ConsThe article is <a href="http://www.theamericanconservative.com/blog/the-greening-of-conservatism/">here</a>.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Tahoma, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">As Pope Benedict XVI has said about believing Catholics in secularized Europe: “I would say that normally it is the creative minorities that determine the future, and in this sense the Catholic Church must understand itself as a creative minority that has a heritage of values that are not things of the past, but a very living and relevant reality.” So it must be with us crunchy cons. What else is there?</span></blockquote>jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-67221710478700153042011-10-30T10:39:00.000-05:002011-10-30T10:39:29.362-05:00R.V. Young on the Benedict OptionMy friend Scott passed along <a href="http://www.firstprinciplesjournal.com/articles.aspx?article=1482">this article</a> to me. The conclusion of the article says:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
At the end of After Virtue, Alasdair MacIntyre remarks that the world is waiting not for Godot but for a new St. Benedict. When Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger took the name Benedict upon his election to the papacy, an important motive may well have been to inspire a renewal of the civilizing work of Benedictine monasteries amidst societies in cultural decline during the anarchy of the Dark Ages of the first millennium. Perhaps a new “Benedictine moment” is already at work during our current era of cultural decline, carried out quietly and modestly by dozens of small liberal arts colleges, many of them Catholic or Protestant, by private preparatory schools and high schools, by institutes and foundations dedicated to nurturing the Western tradition, and by home-schooling parents and associations. The monks inspired by St. Benedict withdrew from a corrupt, chaotic world to do their work of restoration; the small traditional centers of liberal learning in our time are regarded with disdain—if noticed at all—by the progressive elites who dominate the decadence and disorder that we observe all around us. Nevertheless, the seeds planted in obscure corners may one day flourish, and the meek may indeed inherit the earth, as modernity at length completes its slow disintegration, displaced by a renewal of tradition.</blockquote>
This fits in well with a lot of our thinking on this blog. In other words, small pockets of people preserve the classical Christian heritage through dark times. I must confess however, that my own thoughts on the Benedict Option and the way I envisioned it (moving to one location and 'taking over' a town culturally) have moved into a bit of despair.<br />
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I would like to believe that a move towards an intentional parish with a vision of the Benedict Option is possible, but it runs into the realities of everyday life that frustrate it. Jobs, family, commutes, and so on militate against establishing a new community like this. What is ultimately required is a critical mass of people with the same vision who are willing to make big sacrifices to make something happen, and I don't know that such a vision is necessary. Perhaps we do better to flourish where we are and attempt to build institutions that will last.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-32573836127940141872011-02-27T17:48:00.001-06:002011-02-27T18:18:09.777-06:00Thoughts on Christian Community. . .from Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, author and activist in the 'new monasticism' movement:<br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/11274827?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=cc6633" width="400" height="250" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/11274827">Christian Community w/Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/twotp">The Work Of The People</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12470962136640196969noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-39749466761584457162011-02-02T17:51:00.001-06:002011-02-02T17:51:35.491-06:00The Church Must Preserve our CultureOver at the Touchstone blog, Anthony Esolen <a href="http://merecomments.typepad.com/merecomments/2011/01/of-the-burning-of-books.html">writes about the history of the Church in preserving our cultural past.</a> He writes:<br />
<blockquote>When I was in Sweden with my daughter this summer, we saw some churches with plaster ceilings that were entirely white. But now and then we'd see a shadow beneath the white, and that made me wonder if there hadn't been paintings underneath, whitewashed over. My guess was correct. In the Enlightenment, that period of self-satisfied bigotry, the constriction of the arts, and the consigning of centuries of human learning to the flames, the smart people of the day commissioned the destruction of works of folk art that were learned, intricate, and quite beautiful. It is hardly an isolated instance of the phenomenon of culture-destroying among deistic or antiecclesiastical elites. Francis Bacon consigned Aristotle to irrelevance, but it is much to be doubted whether he actually read such Renaissance Thomists as Suarez and Banez, much less Thomas himself. The smarties of the eighteenth century sniffed with contempt upon things medieval -- for almost two hundred years Dante is almost wholly unread outside of Italy. What happened, too, to all the stained glass windows in the cathedrals of France? One wonders how much literature has been lost because the courtiers of the Renaissance, unlike the monks, were simply not interested in preserving medieval manuscripts. John Dewey, despiser of all learning originating in an age before John Dewey's, tried his hardest, and with wonderful success, to eliminate classical learning from American public schools.</blockquote><blockquote> And now in our own day, who are the burners of books? I note with real pleasure that homeschoolers, the large majority of them Christian, and those in charge of upstart evangelical and Catholic high schools and colleges, are the ones in the United States who are preserving classical learning. They study Aristotle -- with impressive care -- at Thomas Aquinas College in California. They learn Latin and Greek at Patrick Henry College, a school whose students are to the typical Ivy Leaguers what linebackers are to waterboys. I could say similar things about the Torrey Honors Institute at Biola University, the Great Books program at Baylor, the Catholic Studies Program at the University of Saint Thomas in Minnesota, Thomas More College, and many more such places, but I could not say them about too many other schools.</blockquote>If we as a people do not work hard at passing our faith and our past on, it will not be preserved. Knowledge is fragile and must be tended, just like anything else worth having.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-664373039193164122011-01-04T17:27:00.000-06:002011-01-04T17:27:09.267-06:00The DifferenceWhat should be different about community life in an Anglican parish vs. in any other strand of Christendom? Off the top of my head, it seems that our office of prayer provides the opportunity for small groups of people to pray in a church building or outside it in an equally structured manner. The lectionary means that we can theoretically be reading in harmony with large segments of the Church at the same pace and thus think about some of the same topics together.<br />
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But these elements can be duplicated in Lutheran settings, Catholic settings, and a host of other traditions, so it is not uniquely Anglican. But perhaps that is a good thing. While I see a revived Anglicanism as the best hope for Protestantism in America and elsewhere, it is not the One True Church (copyright). So my attempts at thinking through an ideal Anglican community do not have to uniquely apply to Anglicanism, but should be able to be duplicated in many communions.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-19134286576105678612010-03-14T18:53:00.000-05:002010-03-14T18:53:19.570-05:00The Barbarian ConversionRichard Fletcher [<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Barbarian-Conversion-Paganism-Christianity/dp/0520218590">The Barbarian Conversion</a>] notes that ancient Christendom was not monolithic:<br />
<blockquote>In terms of custom and practice there were many churches in sixth- and seventh-century Europe, not One Church. Christendom was many-mansioned.</blockquote>Fletcher talks about the motif of exile in the monastic expansion. Christians, following the writing of Augustine, saw themselves as exiles and pilgrims and then the monastics took this exile literally. They often left their homeland and people to found monastic missions amongst others. Fletcher says:<br />
<blockquote>Pilgrimage, in the sense of ascetic renunciation of homeland and kinsfolk, is of special importance in our understanding of the phenomenon of conversion in the early Middle Ages. Pilgrimage merged insensibly into mission. The monasteries that were founded by the exiled holy men had something of the character of mission stations. It was not that they were established primarily among pagans; indeed, they could not have been, dependent as they were on wealthy patrons, necessarily Christian...for their endowments...But their monastic communities were situated on the margins of Christendom, and had what might be called "diffusive potential" among nearby laity who were Christian only in the most nominal of senses.</blockquote>It seems to me that we could apply this same method to the diffusion of the faith in our day. Establishing tightly-focused communities at the margins of our society, for example in rural areas and urban areas that aren't glamorous. Communities devoted to Biblical saturation, mission and learning which could aim to gradually convert the surrounding area.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-50442048734090159172010-01-01T13:46:00.002-06:002010-01-01T13:46:57.015-06:00JoyOne of the puzzling facets of the Christian life as I live it and see it lived is the lack of joy that we have. It seems to me that many Americans are living lives of quiet desperation, under layers of regret, hopelessness, frustration and outright depression. This applies to the unsaved as well as the saved, but in our case it is puzzling because of what Jesus has told us.<br />
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Jesus said, “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” I imagine that the joy of Jesus is of such an infinite magnitude that it would be wonderful to experience. Furthermore, God sternly rebuked Israel for not serving him with joy. He said, “Because you did not serve the Lord your God with joyfulness and gladness of heart, because of the abundance of all things, therefore you shall serve your enemies whom the Lord will send against you, in hunger and thirst, in nakedness and lacking everything.”<br />
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That seems to summarize our American condition succinctly - an abundance of things but no joy or gladness of heart. I’m sure that the reasons for this condition are many, “you must realize the depth of your sin and the reality of God’s sacrifice” I can hear someone saying. But I have some ideas on why we feel down in the middle of everything, or sometimes in the face of great actual suffering. In no order they are:<br />
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1. We don’t do what we should due to fear of man, i.e. we don’t suffer because we are too worried about our reputation. I often hold back in public situations when I think I will be mocked for Christ, I don’t identify with him when I should. Jesus said that in this world we will have suffering and he is the prime example of it. The Apostles rejoiced to be counted worthy to suffer with him. The mockery, beating and death they endured was a liberating cause of great joy for them. I avoid this kind of suffering and therefore my joy is not full.<br />
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2. Church isn’t what is should be. I don’t mean this in terms of a primitive, “New Testament” church or in terms of doctrine (thought it might be that too), but rather in terms of love, relationships, care for the poor, missions mindedness, and so on (think about the ‘one anothers’). To me, this is a huge factor in joylessness. Our relationship with Jesus is supposed to be lived out horizontally amongst God’s people. Instead, churches are full of people with clue about how to be hospitable, how to love, how to eat together, talk to each other, or otherwise be the body of Christ. When your church situation is good, the rest of life coheres and is easier. When it isn’t, the rest of life suffers from isolation, alienation and depression.<br />
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3. Debt. Our society is structured around debt slavery. Because we are in debt, we cannot contribute like we should, help those in need like we should and so forth. In my case, there aren’t good church options around me and I can’t move close to a good church due to the housing situation which essentially boils down to a debt situation.<br />
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There is a certain grim determination to put one foot in front of the other that gets many of us Christians through life and I think that is fine in a sense. The lie of “happy all the time” positive-thinking Christianity is a nauseating answer to legitimate suffering and depression. That’s not what I’m advocating at all. We will all suffer. Until recently, when I though of suffering I thought of persecution, medical problems or death. But now I think suffering includes (and perhaps primarily includes) the daily grind, boredom, Groundhog Day like repetition, rejection from the Church you are part of, not being able to exercise your gifts for God, things like that.<br />
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There are many other legitimate reasons for this lack of joy. I don’t have the answers, I just know the dilemma. Thank God we do have Jesus, for without him this joylessness would be truly overwhelming. The world if full of people numbing themselves with movies, consumption, hobbies, family activities or whatever and all for nothing. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. Fear God and keep the commandments, this is the whole duty of man.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-51691479102990965262009-07-24T07:30:00.004-05:002009-07-24T07:30:00.562-05:00Anglican Studies HousesIn <a href="http://anglicancommunity.blogspot.com/2008/12/vision-for-anglican-educational.html" target="blank">two</a> <a href="http://anglicancommunity.blogspot.com/2008/12/keble-house-curriculum.html" target="blank">previous</a> posts on this blog, I have written about an idea for an Anglican educational community, what I now call an "Anglican Studies House." I can report some progress on that front, and would like to issue a call, as well.<br /><br />Progress: I have now shared this idea with several leaders in the ACNA (and to a lesser extent, the Episcopal church), and it has received enthusiastic support. Along the way, I have also learned of at least one other such initiative already under way. I am working to organize people locally so that we might begin planting one in the Chicagoland area sometime in the next year or so.<br /><br />In these conversations, I have sensed a deeply felt need to 'do education' differently, in a way that forms young people in the Anglican ethos with a uniquely Christian worldview, to the glory of Christ and the advancement of His kingdom. Many have genuinely agreed with my general assessment that Anglicans (in north America at least) have done a poor job at this. We might worship Him well in our liturgy, but do we equip people faithfully, rigorously with the mind of Christ? All our endeavors, including learning and intellectual inquiry, should be seen as sacrificial offerings unto the Lord.<br /><br />Ultimately, it is my vision to see these popping up around the country and in a variety of settings. Some may be connected directly to an existing college or university (a kind of 'fraternity' or 'sorority' for students wishing to be formed in the Anglican ethos while in school). Still others might be 'free standing,' in a part of town where unique work and/or ministry opportunities might provide a inspiring context for community building (e.g., in an arts district, a poor inner city neighborhood, a pastoral location in the countryside, to name just a few). Uniting these Houses could be a network(s) for sharing ideas or collaborating. A network of Houses could be united by a common rule of life.<br /><br />Now for my call: I would like to connect with <b>you</b> if this vision moves you. Check out my initial posts (links above) which are brief sketches of the basic vision. I want to begin organizing a conversation about these Houses, perhaps the beginnings of a network.<br /><br />Are you interested? Please leave a comment, below, with your e-mail address, identifying yourself and explaining the nature of your interest. The comment will need to be approved by me, the moderator. However, out of confidentiality, I will not approve it (unless you say so). In short, your email or identity will be held in confidence by me. Then, I will know to contact you privately from my own email address. Thanks!<br /><br />Of course, feel free to leave comments, too! Either way, let's <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">do</span> talk. . .Rev. Dr. Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13876155630669396163noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-89513156170788573892009-07-21T09:50:00.000-05:002009-07-21T09:50:08.427-05:00A Canticle for Leibowitz and the Benedict Option<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> I have been reading and enjoying A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller, Jr. The novel outlines a grim future where a global nuclear holocaust has sent man back to primitive times and an order of Catholic monks preserve any knowledge of our age that they can get their hands on. They laboriously copy and re-copy blueprints, scraps of textbooks and so on. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> The book describes how in the wake of the nuclear war, the people who survived turned on anyone of learning and killed them because they blamed the intellectuals for creating nuclear weapons and allowing or causing the massive death and suffering across the globe. In their fury the mobs kill anyone with knowledge and burn every book they can get their hands on. Vast stores of learning are wiped out of existence by these mobs. Add to this the nuclear war which has turned cities into lakes of glass and you have almost erased our civilization overnight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Reading this scenario in 2009 conjures up a Cold War feelings and the whole thing at first seems a bit quaint: mutually assured destruction and all of that. But when I step back and think about it, how absurd is it really? There is no real cause for the United states and Russia, China, or another nuclear power to start a war right now, but will it always be that way? India and Pakistan could certainly nuke one another which would not be a global conflagaration, but could produce horrors. And the future possibility of the USA and Russia nuking each other cannot be ruled out totally because we don't know what the future will look like and one thing is certain: man's evil nature has not changed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> I highly doubt that there will be a "Flame Deluge" such as the one portrayed in Leibowitz, but the book does illustrate the fragility of our cultural heritage. With the increasing reliance on electronic storage for our texts, this heritage becomes even more fragile. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Beyond the possibility of worldwide destruction, there is a more potent threat of the simple vanishing of knowledge due to self-imposed ignorance and the loss of habits of virtue. What I mean is that if texts are not studied by people living in community and then lived out in real life, they also can cease to exist in some sense. If the Bible is just a book that gets studied and no one lives what it teaches, it has lost all cultural value, at least for a time. If texts on electronics exist but no electronics are manufactured, the texts have no impact on the world.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> This again leads me to reflect on an Anglican Benedict Option. I see the preservation of texts by a community in an intentional way as part of that option. This would involve buying books, re-binding old books, printing books and perhaps acquiring the ability to hand-copy books for the unlikely eventuality that our society would experience a catastrophic reversion to a pre-Guttenberg age. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> Most important however is for us to re-invent ways of living the good life together that can be sustained in the modern world. The fragmented suburban life is not conducive to living out the Gospel, period. The suburbs could be made to sustain such a life, but it would still involve moving to the same subdivisions, working near them and having a parish near them. This is hard to do. Politics are harder to influence in communities of 30,000 versus communities of 3,000. My theory is that it would be better to attempt a reconstruction of a vibrant parish life that preserves the past as well as influences the future in a smaller town somewhere on the fringes of our empire. Making it our ambition to lead a quiet life and work with our hands, we could foster communities that might last for several centuries or longer, on into the future when the Church again holds sway over the West.</span>jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-80573137137331208102009-05-05T05:57:00.002-05:002009-05-05T05:57:09.701-05:00Rumblings of the Benedict Option?The hunger is there, see this post:<br />
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<a href="http://www.newgeography.com/content/00779-new-towns-and-new-lives-country">New Towns</a>jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-62091514710145100442009-03-25T19:59:00.002-05:002009-03-25T19:59:50.745-05:00The Anglican Benedict Option<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">I’ve <a href="http://anglicancommunity.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html">written a bit</a> about creating an Anglican community by like-minded Anglicans moving to the same location. Steve has put down some <a href="http://anglicancommunity.blogspot.com/2008/12/vision-for-anglican-educational.html">great thoughts</a> about what educational praxis could look like in an Anglican setting. I’d like to see all of this come together in an Anglican <a href="http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/opinion/points/stories/072907dnedidreher.c671b1c4.html">Benedict Option</a> - fleeing the collapsing modern state and “preserving the remnants of Christian and classical virtues and laying the groundwork for the rebirth of a new civilization.” If you have any interest in really doing this and not just thinking about it, please contact me!</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">It seems to me that this would require some agricultural know-how. Working the land might be necessary in a small town with no big job-provider around. I am presuming that the internet and modern communication will persist, but that the permanent things will be left behind by a reckless culture. So I speculate on other trades that could provide income in a situation where a new community attempts to carve out a place and survive on the outskirts of the empire. I wonder if typography in the form of a type foundry could work in a small town? Fonts are distributed globally so perhaps that is a flexible enough craft to be performed from anywhere. Book binding is a niche market that would seem logical for the people of the book. Publishing in general would be desirable, and creating lasting editions of works like the Book of Common Prayer, the Bible, and the Church Fathers would be essential to a Benedict option for Anglicans. Depending on proximity to the ocean or lakes, some type of boat building / repair might be profitable. Establishing a school and a university would seem to be necessary to perpetuate learning in the face of global ignorance and the bankrupt university system of the United States.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">We can cultivate a different way of life in the face of the moral miasma that is the air we breathe. Formed by the cycle of the Church year and daily prayer, devoted to alms giving and works of mercy, fearless in proclaiming the Gospel and practicing the liturgy that has undergird the Church since her earliest days, we can begin again.</span></div>jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-88017921955214394072009-03-18T14:29:00.003-05:002009-03-18T14:59:52.134-05:00Whither Religious Communities?Two <a href="http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/content.asp?id=71095" target="blank">recent</a> <a href="http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/content.asp?id=71098" target="blank">stories</a> in the <a href="http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/" target="blank"><i>Church Times</i></a> lament the demise of religious (monastic) communities in the U.K., and especially within the Church of England. <br /><br />The religious life within Anglicanism has never enjoyed the level of support found in Roman Catholicism. As a church born of the Reformation, religious communities were suppressed within the Church of England. They were, however, revived thanks to the Oxford Movement of the 19th century. Even some seminaries (like <a href="http://www.nashotah.edu" target="blank">the one</a> I attend) were inspired to follow the daily rhythm of Benedictine Rule. <br /><br />Today, though, such communities are--again--on the decline. The stories in <i>Church Times</i> describe the paradox that ours is an age that enjoys anew contemplative forms of spirituality but yet membership in religious orders is at an all time low, and many communities as a whole are dying a silent death. The problem seems to be commitment. The idea of committing oneself, lifelong, to the rigors of monastic oaths--particularly, celibacy--is a cross too heavy to bear.<br /><br />How might we address the problem (if you, like me, agree with the authors that this is genuinely a problem)? The <a href="http://www.churchtimes.co.uk/content.asp?id=71098" target="blank">second story</a> raises this fascinating proposal:<br /><blockquote>Sometimes I wish we had a kind of monastic National Service, akin to the tradition of temporary monasticism found in some Buddhist countries. This is not as implausible as it might seem. The Melanesian Brothers and Sisters, the Anglican religious order in the Solomon Islands, take vows for five years at a time. Unlike most religious communities in the UK, the order is youthful, vibrant, and growing.<br /><br />The predictable objection to the idea of temporary vows in the context of traditional monastic communities is that it would undermine the principle of stability, which is the very basis of their life. I wonder. Presumably among those who signed up for a limited term, there would be some who would stay longer, perhaps even for life — as is the case with the Melanesian Brothers.<br /><br />It is possible that by removing the forbidding notion of a life-sentence, the prospect of being a monk, a friar, or a nun would seem a good deal more feasible to people who might like to explore the possibility, but felt unable to make a life-long commitment at the outset.</blockquote>I like this idea a lot. In fact, it could easily become a feature of other kinds of faith-based communities--non-celibate intentional communities, for instance--where Christian brothers and sisters, perhaps even families too, could enter into a deeper form of community for a certain stage of one's life. Perhaps it is during one's graduate education; or during an transition stage, where one career path is opening onto another; or during an interim phase, where one lacks a clear path ahead and needs time for prayer and reflection. A family who finds itself homeless might join such a community as the parents train for new careers. For me, personally, the idea that I could have taken a 3- or 5-year vow during my graduate education, for instance, would have held genuine appeal. I needed the daily discipline of prayer and study, and doing so within a community of brothers in Christ could have given my education an entirely deeper spiritual dimension.<br /><br />On a grander scale, my suspicion is that the luster of the modern world is beginning to wear off in the West. More and more, people sense that consumerism is vapid. The economy itself is teaching us that the pursuit of wealth is a vain delusion. Happy-go-lucky relativism is a luxury we can ill afford in a world full of 9/11s, Darfurs and AIDs pandemics. What has not faded yet, however, is a whole other panoply of romantic delusions. They live on. To whit: that we can live life on our own terms; that sexual experimentation is a right everyone ought to invoke as soon and as often as possible; and that commitment is only bondage, not genuine freedom. <br /><br />Religious communities clearly are not immune from these cultural tides. But while the modern world dies in fits and starts, it seems to me that the things of enduring value will persist, even if they must--for a time--adapt. Religious communities are well poised to help us negotiate these turbulent times, and serve as a beacon amidst the storm. I hope that they will not die but will find a way to adapt and renew their vision and mission. For their sake. For ours. And ultimately, for our Lord's.Rev. Dr. Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13876155630669396163noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-30578515564320205062009-03-07T14:49:00.012-06:002009-03-19T10:24:35.208-05:00The Smaller, the BetterI can't find the quote right off, but I believe it is in his book <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0802801145?ie=UTF8&tag=philosophersa-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0802801145">The Contemplative Pastor: Returning to the Art of Spiritual Direction</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=philosophersa-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0802801145" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" /></i> where Eugene Peterson states that a local church really ought not to be greater in size than about 200 people, give or take a few. The reason is quite simple. A pastor cannot get to know by name more people than that and continue to take an active, praying and listening role in each of their lives. Pastors must fundamentally be people of prayer and listening. Pastors ought not to be distant figures up on some stage, but incarnate amongst their people a prayerful, listening form of ministry. <br /><br />Now, megachurch-type ministries have sought to honor this principle in their own way by breaking the big church up into smaller units, sometimes quite intentionally calling them separate "congregations." But I think the economy of scale presupposed by the church as a whole may just miss the point and perhaps undermine the concept from the start. Big churches accustom people to, train their sensibilities in anonymity. What's more, when they fight anonymity, they generally do so by allowing people to 'shop for' their own 'niche,' for their own congregation or social grouping among more people like themselves (e.g., the 20s, young professionals, seniors, etc.). In a sense, they have you go <i>deeper</i> into your individuality, not <i>transcend it</i>. If you are never really forced to pray for or listen to someone outside your social group--which you can easily avoid in a megachurch--then you are far removed, I believe, from growing in the love of neighbor. As such, megachurches can exacerbate inter-generational or social group differences and lose any sense of cohesion. <br /><br />That's the point of Peterson's model. It actively seeks to resist anonymity throughout <i>an entire church</i> not just throughout one's self-chosen small group or the like. Church should challenge us to love our neighbor right next to us, whether they are like us or not, by having that neighbor <i>right there next to us</i> at each point along the way. <br /><br />I am deeply moved by Peterson's vision, to the point where it has opened my eyes to a whole new sense of what church ministry possibly could be. (I sense that part of why his vision inspires me so much is that I see such strong elements of this embodied in our very own pastoral team. I've seen it work, and it is <i>good</i>.)<br /><br />As a result, I now believe firmly that any church which approaches, roughly, 200 active attendees ought to raise up a core group of 30 to 50 to plant a new church. If not before! <br /><br />For me, the key now is not size, but dynamism. You want a church where intimate relationships can develop, and one-on-one discipleship is a living reality. You want that church to reach out well to folks in the community with whatever gifts the parishioners bring to the table. Small is better in this sense because it remains personable, not threatening and overwhelming as some shopping-mall sized megachurches probably are to the unchurched. We need to be busy in the relationship business, and you can only do that when you have a church where everyone can realistically get to know everyone.<br /><br />What's more, it's gotten me thinking that the most logical way that you <i>keep</i> a church congregation small but dynamic is to have it plugged into a local community. Here I want to revive the old historic 'parish model' of doing church, where a church is at the center of a local community--the living, breathing hub of spiritual <i>and</i> social life. In such a model, the priest is a pastor not just to those on the inside but, in a sense, also to even the non-churched person who lives down the block. A pastor should know all the people in the surrounding community by name. They should know who could pray for them, if they want, where to find pastoral help, if they need it. And so the small, local congregation should end up being the hub for everything from after school tutoring and summer programs for kids to feeding the hungry, providing food for shut-ins and the sick or hosting block parties. To be sure, the church is not just a dispenser of social services (which is what I fear some socially active Roman Catholic parishes end up becoming). Rather, the Gospel is preached with power, and lived out within a local community. It ought to be an attractive way of doing church, with a genuine appeal to those who do not know Christ (yet) because the Body of Christ incarnates Him and makes Him real in the community. <br /><br />On this model, local parishes should not be about recruiting members from outside of a given radius but constantly focused on getting to know and then serving everyone within their own. If enough people from another local community start attending--as they are certainly welcome to do--then they ought to begin thinking about how they are going to plant a similar church in their own neighborhood. And so on. Church growth, then, is a process of planting small but dynamic congregations who know their communities and serve them with the hands and feet of Christ.<br /><br />My sense is that this model would work not only in densely populated urban areas, but especially well in the suburbs, where we could begin seeing subdivisions as parishes with their own church and the like. Rural areas may cover relatively larger swaths of land, but that is well-known terrain for such people. They are used to 'driving into town.' All is means is that the pastor must visit homes much more--and be the kind of person whose presence is always welcome.<br /><br />Being a welcoming presence: that, to my mind, is the key. Everything else follows from it. For example, in contemporary American suburbs there could easily be zoning issues if a parish wanted to build a building (which would serve as a visible sign and physical meeting place for the community). But I would like to insist that before there is ever talk of a building, there must be genuine worship and service flowing out of the homes of parishioners to that community. If the church is a welcoming presence, it will likely be welcomed by her neighbors. Welcome enough, I would hope, to where the people of that community might actually desire the parish to build a facility, where they might see the value of having one in their midst--even if they themselves never intend to darken the door for worship. If church is built on relationship first--the core of Peterson's model for pastoral ministry--then everything else, including a meeting space, etc., will follow on its own.<br /><br />In general, Christians need to stop viewing church as an organization whose members meet to worship and engage in all sorts of 'Christian activities.' Rather, church is the relationship we have amongst ourselves and to the world. <i>To be the church, rather than to have one</i>--that is the heart of the matter.Rev. Dr. Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13876155630669396163noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-11065515723980330862009-02-19T11:28:00.001-06:002009-02-19T11:30:07.957-06:00A Dying Age<p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">As Americans, we've lived with the idea of our own permanence for so long that we can't imagine a post-American world. I think that the entire 20th century was almost an American eschaton. Our way of life triumphed and seemed forever stable. How could we ever descend into anarchy when Leave it to Beaver re-runs are on every day? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">When day to day life involves trips to the grocery store, watching TV and living in ever-expanding suburbs, you don't see it ending. Perhaps we will have another century of more of this, but it seems to me that the end of our order is in sight. The old agrarian republic is long since dead, the Constitution is a meaningless document and we live in a centralized empire that bears only skin-deep resemblance to the Republic or the Colonies. But what does it look like when an empire really dies?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Charles Norris Cochrane provides some idea in his book "</span><a href="http://www.libertyfundcatalog.com/lg_display.cfm/page/52/catalog/Spring_Summer_2009"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Christianity and Classical Culture</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">." He writes:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">The period following Theodosius may be characterized in general as one of twilight government by twilight men, whose puny and distracted efforts proved utterly inadequate to forfend the approaching doom. That doom was signalized in the destruction of cities, the devastation of the countryside, and the disruption of communications. Already in 396, the first year of Arcadius and Honorius, the situation, as portrayed by a contemporary observer, was little better than hopeless.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><blockquote><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">"The mind shudders," declares St. Jerome, "to contemplate the ruin of our time. For the last twenty years, the blood of Romans has drenched the lands between Constantinople and the Julian Alps, where innumerable and ferocious tribes spread devastation and death...The bodies of the free and noble, of matrons and virgins have become the prey of lust. Bishops are imprisoned; churches plundered; horses have been stabled at the altars of Christ; the bones of martyrs flung out of their coffins...Everywhere grief, everywhere lamentation, everywhere the shadow of death!"</span></p><br /></blockquote><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">Cochrane outlines how buildings fell into ruin due to no money being available to repair them. Taxes and duties became so onerous that people stopped paying them and fled into the barbarian regions. Thieves multiplied, roads became unsafe, and foreigners poured over the borders of the Empire and gave feigned allegiance to Rome while remaining citizens of their tribe. The laws were unenforceable, the armies weak. Centralized authority broke down everywhere and the Medieval Age began. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">So where are we at on that kind of timeline? It is of course impossible to know the future. Our military is still in the field, our systems of communication are intact, and our imperial center is still able to enforce the law. We do appear bankrupt on every level, much of our recent architecture and building has been ephemeral rather than durable, so our cities and suburbs will fall into ruins unless continuously updated. We lack any unifying or central purpose of life, we have no clue what we are here for or what we are trying to accomplish. Our institutions are generally filled with people who hate our own history and way of life. We have experienced massive waves of illegal immigration which will forever alter what this nation thinks and how it is governed. We are not yet in total disintegration, but you can now see how it could happen. </span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0px"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:small;">I believe we will recover from the present economic turmoil, perhaps quickly. But the bigger picture is one of a balkanized and incoherent nation which is living on the fumes of past glory. I think Christians are being called to a new Benedict moment - a withdrawal to a new monasticism. Not monasticism of the celibate, but of the married - a Protestant monasticism if you will. Families may need to relocate to small communities where we can preserve the heritage of the past and put down roots which will endure in the coming ages. Because on the other side of the Roman collapse came Christendom, led by a Church that spanned nations and tribal boundaries. Our nation may become three nations, or ten, all spanning this continent. The old configuration may collapse of exhaustion and debt. But the Church will endure, God's Word will stand forever and communities that love the permanent things can shape a future age.</span></p>jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-14843925776311075552009-02-11T20:10:00.002-06:002009-02-11T20:12:58.816-06:00Clear Creek<a href="http://www.clearcreekmonks.org/">Clear Creek</a> is a Catholic community that is living the Benedict option. There is a monastery with a growing community of lay people around it. While I would suggest a different configuration, largely based on Protestant ecclessiology, this is a good model for us to consider.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-19436688814919597392009-01-14T19:26:00.000-06:002009-01-14T19:29:05.757-06:00Now more than everWe need community. The need is everywhere present and easy to see. Much of life in the Church is shallow and meaningless. We are not bearing each other's burdens. We are not discipling, we are not evangelizing, we do not live near each other, we do not care for the neighborhoods we live in. Let's make 2009 a year where we begin to reverse these trends and carve out an Anglican response to this sickness.jmwhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06600452580513720840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-75164189930757443952008-12-31T12:47:00.006-06:002009-07-24T02:14:29.616-05:00Keble House--A CurriculumHere are some 'curricular' ideas for the intentional educational community <a href="http://anglicancommunity.blogspot.com/2008/12/vision-for-anglican-educational.html" target="blank">I just described</a>--what I have, provisionally, called 'Keble House.'<br /><br />I think there should be certain core aspects to life in such an intentional community. Common worship and work should always be intrinsic parts of the daily life in the House. On the other hand, residents should also be challenged to set forth a personal 'formation plan' for each year or, perhaps, even for a longer period of residency (say, an entire 4 year plan). Build into the life of the House a sense that personal formation--spiritual, intellectual, emotional--is a project each of us can intentionally and communally undertake. Build into it regular moments of self-reflection and -evaluation. And as a result, residents would be trained in a very meaningful set of disciplines for life, that would help transform them and their world.<br /><br />For instance, formation plans should include goals for spiritual disciplines (e.g., prayer, fasting, etc.); reading and study; writing, both private and writing that might be shared with the community as a whole (e.g., talks or presentations); relational and emotional goals; and service or outreach. The plan would be carefully formulated each year with the consultation of the director of the House. Goals should be realistic yet meaningful. They should not heap unreasonable amounts of additional study or work upon already challenged college students; but like any extra-curricular activity, life in the House can call forth special commitments of time and energy. Each resident could then share their plans with the others and together covenant to support one another in achieving the goals they set for themselves. The discipline of formation planning could be a part of an initial retreat to inaugurate each year; progress could be evaluated at a second retreat; and a concluding assessment performed at a final retreat. The House should help residents set goals for and assess their personal growth throughout the residential experience.<br /><br />Here's a concrete example: A resident might agree to read certain works of the Church Fathers and to keep a on-going journal of his reflections. Then he might offer a couple of talks for the residents about his reading. He might also set the goal of fasting to begin each new season of the church year, and ask to be held personally accountable to remain true. Perhaps the resident needs to work on a relationship with a parent or friend, or develop more courage in speaking up in class. Residents of the House could come alongside him and encourage him in these personal goals. And finally, he might coordinate an outreach activity of the House: a drive for a food pantry or regular visits of House member to a nursing home.<br /><br />At any rate, each resident (and perhaps even 'associated' non-residents) could set forth personal plans as a kind of curriculum for their residency, weaving the life of the House into the very fabric of the plan. It then becomes much more than a mere residential community with some worship and work requirements along the way. Rather, it becomes a context for personal formation.Rev. Dr. Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13876155630669396163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1826541278923953810.post-32059220909598518752008-12-31T12:37:00.004-06:002015-07-14T16:17:50.902-05:00A Vision for an Anglican Educational CommunityAnglicans have always had a great commitment to learning. We have a rich tradition of clergy-scholars, and more importantly, of educational institutions committed to forming hearts and minds for Christ. The history of Christianity in the British Isles inspires admiration for bishops, priests and laity who have sought to form young lives for Christian service through educational institutions.<br />
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I fear, though, that Anglicanism's educational identity has not weathered well the storms of the modern world and I suspect that the failure of education in the Anglican way has helped lead us to the crisis we are in. We see revisionism ripe in our seminaries. We see primary, secondary and higher educational institutions moving away from a Christian identity all together. And at the parish level, it is far too common to find uneducated laity, who cannot effectively disciple others in the basics of Scripture and doctrine. So we need to renew and deepen our commitment to the authority of Scripture. We need to renew and deepen our commitments to discipleship and mission. We need laity and clergy who genuinely cherish a Christian worldview and can thoughtfully, creatively confront the challenges of an increasingly post-Christian world. We need to enrich our educational communities so that they become training grounds for genuinely being the church, for truly submitting to one another in love under the lordship of Christ.<br />
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I believe, however, that intentional community in an educational context holds real promise. Of course, it will not 'solve' these problems, as if any single initiative could accomplish such a task. Rather, just like the religious communities of the Middle Ages, intentional educational community can provide a bulwark for orthodoxy. It can be the place where essentials are cherished and handed down, preserved amidst the ravages of the age. Intentional educational communities of the sort I envision could cultivate deeply Christian habits of heart and mind in the next generation.<br />
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Here, then, is my vision:<br />
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At colleges around the nation, Anglicans should start small, residential houses where students could live together, worship together, study together. It might seem like a fraternity/sorority house, but with key differences. A room in the house should be dedicated as a chapel. Each day's activities should be structured around the rhythm of Morning and Evening Prayer, so students would learn the habit of praying the Daily Office. A house director could serve as a spiritual director for the residents, and if ordained could celebrate the Eucharist daily. Other Anglicans at the host college/university could attend as well. They might also attend reading groups or lectures, hosted by the house. I could envision tutorial-type courses be accredited through the host college or else through an Anglican/Episcopal seminary for grad credit. One variation on my vision would have a residential director who was also a faculty member at the host college/university. That professor could offer Anglican Studies-type courses under the aegis of the house.<br />
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Residents would share meals, cleaning and chores, and in addition to the other formation activities. They would learn to live in community together. A particular focus of these Houses could be the cultivation of a missional outlook in the residents. Help them catch the vision for communal living as a means of mission--to the poor and needy, in urban contexts or suburban, in north America or abroad. The idea is that life shared together can be a great training in grace, especially at a key point in life like college.<br />
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For my part, I would call them Keble Houses, after <a href="http://anglicanhistory.org/bios/jkeble.html" target="blank">John Keble</a>, the great leader of the Anglo-Catholic renewal in the Church of England, the Oxford Movement. He was a man of great learning, deep and humble spirituality and reformist fervor--the very traits these houses seek to pass on to their residents.<br />
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On the whole, the House would serve as a focal point for training college students in the Anglican Way. It would be a place that would pass on the best of Anglican spirituality and theology and whose ethos would always be outward looking--of bringing the grace they received at the House to a needy world.Rev. Dr. Stephen Lakehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13876155630669396163noreply@blogger.com3