Here I am, Lord. Here you are, Lord. Here we are together.
Who am I, Lord? Who are you, Lord? Who are we together?

These phrases, Brian McLaren suggests to readers of his Naked Spirituality, might be used as a sort of exercise to help us pray and center ourselves in the moment. They’re presented at the end of a chapter entitled “Here: Naming the Mystery” in which McLaren calls readers to acknowledge and name the mystery of God’s presence. The rest of the book takes things further, of course, but “Here” is simply about being, acknowledging, and resting in God who is present.

McLaren writes that the prayer helps him move from “here to who,” to focus on God and what God and he might do and be together.

When I first read the simple statements and questions, I smiled. I underlined. Then I grimaced a bit. Their simplicity and sing-songy nature remind me a bit too much of camp songs.

I’m reading Naked Spirituality for a book group with The Project F-M, so I was sure to ask what group members thought of the prayer. The consensus of group members seemed to be that while folks appreciated McLaren’s efforts, and understood the point, most were also suspicious of “camp theology” and cutesy phrases. The group did not exactly commit to use the phrases in their personal prayer time. In fact, they may not remember them at all now.

I get that. As I say, I had a similar reaction myself. But, even weeks after reading the phrase, I can’t seem to get them out of my head. In their simple, careful way, I find a profound claim and question.

Perhaps what continues to nag at me about the prayer is that in what is disguised as exceedingly simple claims and open-ended questions are really gigantic confessions of faith and questions of call. Hidden in these simple words are the big questions of being, questions about purpose, faithfulness, faith, and community.

The prayer is simple enough to memorize unintentionally, but complex enough to keep you wrestling for weeks. Camp-like or not, maybe I like it after all.  –Adam J. Copeland

When church leaders repurpose space, good things often follow.

I think of Broad Street Ministry in Philadelphia that holds worship in a gorgeous old church, but one in which all pews have been removed. The hodgepodge of chairs can be arranged in any which way–it’s hard to find two chairs alike–and the space can easily welcome art installations, shows, and theater. Worshipping in that sanctuary necessarily gets one thinking about the edginess of the gospel, and the way God pushes our boundaries. Each service concludes when tables are set up in the middle of the sanctuary and all join in a meal.

I think of the Theology Pubs which The Project F-M holds in a basement of a local bar/restaurant. We gather to talk about faith and theology, but the setting and the beverages communicate that our conversations can be real, open, and free in a way many church meeting rooms aren’t. People who wouldn’t think of going to church come happily. Pastors who work all day at a church, embrace the change of scene.

I think of the Easter Vigil held at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Atlanta. During the service, worshipers actually journey from sanctuary to fellowship hall and to several other areas of the campus. Near the end of the service, all the worshipers gather outside the sanctuary behind its thick closed doors. About midnight the pastor exclaims, “Christ is risen,” and bangs on the doors of the church with a huge brick. They spring open. The organ, at full blast, plays celebratory music and the worshipers rush to the communion table–yes, Lutherans run to the the communion table. All gather round the table to join singing “Alleluia” and dance a circle dance. The Eucharist is celebrated. Then, out of nowhere, the same Eucharistic table is set with a feast of cookies, fresh fruit, coffee, champagne (if I remember right), and chocolates.

Surely there are more examples: when church gyms become homeless shelters, when sunday school rooms are transformed into free clinics, when office break rooms become prayer stations.

Repurposing space takes time, openness, and a willingness to fail. I wish it happened more often because, when it does, we often catch a glimpse of what God is up to.

–Adam J. Copeland

In this vein, two recent popular press articles on sabbath (though they didn’t call it that) are well worth reading.

In the NY Times, Pico Iyer writes on “The Joy of Quiet,” discussing exclusive resorts that offer the allure of NO Internet or cell phone service. Particularly striking was Iyer’s visit to a Benedictine monastery where he met a MTV employee who brought his son on trips there to get away from it all.

In Slate, Katie Roiphe reflects in “Can We Really Unplug: The illusion of Internet freedom” on the popular Freedom software that locks you off the Internet for the length of your choosing.

(I’ve written on sabbath and technology in previous posts including Sabbath 2.0 and Saturday: Secular Sabbath or Christian Cop-Out?”)

Interestingly, in the church circles I observe, teaching and preaching about sabbath-keeping has gone out of style. The positive read of this is a healthy response to an over-zealous piety that can come with too much emphasis on keeping sabbath. The negative possibility, however, is that in a society where culture is about more-and-more-faster-and-faster, the church has absconded its task of preaching about the joy and benefits of practicing sabbath (and its task to acknowledge the struggles related to it as well).

So does the reflection Iyer and Roiphe’s piece (and Mark Bittman’s [here] before it) mark a cultural shift in which today’s main advocates of sabbath (or “quiet,” “rest,” “time away” whatever you call it) approach it from a spiritual but not religious perspective?

How can Christians — pastors and others alike — add their voice to the conversation in ways that welcome others? Off the top of my head, this process of dialogue comes to mind:

1. for Christians, and all, to acknowledge the challenge of today’s fast-paced uber-connected life and with it a desire by many to find periods of shelter from the hubbub
2. for Christians to listen to those who seek and find this sabbath rest from non-Christian perspectives including those that are totally secular, and those from other religious traditions
3. for Christians to plumb the depths of their own tradition and find a clarity as to what sabbath is all about (from the commandment to Jesus’ nuanced disregard for it)
4. for Christians to claim — in humility and while admitting the challenges — how living out their notions of sabbath is both faithful and life-giving for them

My instinct is that, when it comes to finding breaks from digital life — time to realign our lives towards what is good and right — the church has a lot to learn from those who practice “sabbath” without much notion of religion. I hope the conversation starts soon.

Blog post by Adam Copeland; image by ivanmarn.

What a year! With new leadership, bustling events, grand ideas, and several jogs in the road, The Project F-M gives thanks for your support in 2011, and wish you the best this Advent and Christmas season. Look out 2012, we’re just getting started! Next Theology Pub is:

“What’s the Real Real Meaning of Christmas?”

Join us for our last Theology Pub of 2011! Monday, Dec 19th, 7:30 p.m. Downstairs at Usher’s House in Moorhead. Free apps. Great conversation.

Facebook invite here.

I’m struck that giving thanks, as a concept, is perfectly well and good (it’s what our mother taught us, after all) but complications come with the follow-up questions, the second part of the sentence, the: so what?

Giving thanks….to whom?

Giving thanks…for what?

Giving thanks…by oneself or together?

Giving thanks…our of obligation, or out of true gratitude?

Shirley Guthrie’s Christian Doctrine an accessible and thorough introduction to Reformed Theology, one that I consult often. Like the other theology texts I consulted in preparation for Theology Pub this week, neither “thanksgiving” nor “gratitude” is in Guthrie’s index. I did, however, find this glorious passage that’s stopped me short this Thanksgiving week:

 Everything we have said about satisfying our creaturely necessities and enjoying creaturely pleasures is true only to the extent that we remember that God is not only our Creator but the Creator of all human beings, and that God’s good gifts are given not just to us and our kind of people but to all people. To deny these gifts (necessities and pleasures) to any person or group, or to support any political or economic system that does so, is rebellion against the Creator who said that the physical-bodily life of every human being is good. Christian Doctrine, Shirley Guthrie, p. 160

Thanksgiving, after all, is an act. It’s action, but in our normal cultural parlance it seems as if it’s all about stopping, looking back, reflecting with our kin. At Thanksgiving, many of us end up asking that question, “What am I thankful for?” But Guthrie seems to want to broaden our thinking from “I” to “we.”

What if Thanksgiving is not about what God gives me, but about God’s gifts to all the world, now and forever? Thinking of Thanksgiving in this corporate manner then pushes us further to consider Thanksgiving as action, as call to discipleship. It becomes more than about feeding the homeless turkey and mashed potatoes on Thursday, but about making sure all my brothers and sisters — all those whom God created and loves — have equal opportunities to enjoy God’s gifts. Or, further even, we follow our call beyond making “opportunities available” for all to perhaps enjoy God’s gifts, and instead we don’t stop until all are resting in the promises of God, not just possibly doing so, but actually doing so.

For me, the Advent season always takes on a wonderful sense of justice-seeking. As I prepare for Christ’s birth, I’m reminded every year that our world looks all too un-Christlike. This year, however, I’m getting that feeling a little early through the more secular Thanksgiving holiday. For that, I’m grateful; to that, I hope to respond.

–Post by Adam Copeland                                                                                                      image by bromundt

Under the Donate page, you’ll find some documents that describe more clearly what we do, and what sort of partners we’re hoping for. Want to give right now? There’s even a way to do that online. Please consider giving and helping us continue to making space for 20/30-somethings to love God and neighbor by cultivating an open-minded, curious faith.

Click here for the latest info.

When the Project F-M began planning our monthly HolyCity event and we saw the next date fell on Sunday, September 11 we thought, “Wow…and how fitting.”

How fitting, on the day marking the 10th anniversary of the Sept 11 attacks, to gather in community for reflection, artistic expression, prayer, Eucharist, and conversation. There may or may not be tears and laughter, but we can promise this: a space for connecting with God and neighbor.

New Location:
We’ve moved HolyCity inside for the fall. We’re meeting downtown in the Fargo Depot building, the old train depot building at 701 Main Ave. The parking lot is at the corner of Main and Broadway. (It’s the Depot in south downtown owned by the city, not the bicycle store.)

Last time:
Pictures and a description of the August HolyCity can be found here.

We hope to see you on Sunday at 5 p.m.  Take a chance. Show up. We promise: it won’t suck. And, heck, who knows…you might even really like it.

Help us out and RSVP at this Facebook event invite. And, for sure, spread the word!

Last Sunday The Project F-M curated our first HolyCity event. Beforehand we were pretty sly about what exactly the event would look like. Partly, this was because we hadn’t planned it yet and didn’t really know what would happen, but mainly it’s just because HolyCity is so difficult to describe.

If we called it, “worship” people would get a certain idea that wouldn’t be right. If we called it, “scriptural meditations in a park” people wouldn’t know either (and they might freak out). So, we called it “HolyCity” and used some fun descriptors, hoping people’s curiosity and open-mindedness would bring them out.

Now that we’ve debuted and plan to hold other HolyCity events in the future, I’ll describe  what happened last Sunday.

Gathering
We met in a park in Moorhead with picnic tables and green areas for different prayer stations. It was a beautiful day and folks mingled for a time and got to know one another better. We then gathered in a circle and responded to a question about a time when folks felt God’s presence or absence.

Word
I introduced Psalm 85:8-13 (which was the “Lectionary Psalm” for the day, meaning thousands of Christians around the world read that psalm that day in worship). We talked a bit about the context of the writing of the text, and we read the passage out loud. Everyone had a printout of the passage, and we shared out-loud phrases that intrigued us. Then we introduced the prayer stations and folks had 25 minutes or so to experience the stations, each of which had instructions.

Psalm 85:8-13

8  Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts.   9  Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land.  10  Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other.  11  Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky.  12  The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase.  13  Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps.

Prayer stations included:

•     Listening to the NPR hourly news summary on iPod or iPad, stopping the newscast at points, and praying “Lord draw near…”
•     Drumming Psalm 85
•     Writing local elected officials considering the psalm’s phrase, “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet, righteousness and peace will kiss each other”
•     Creative artistic response with drawing materials
•     Examen Prayer (ancient/modern way of meditative prayer)
•     Goggling Psalm 85 on a MacBook
•     Writing or drawing comments on a poster board on which the whole psalm was written

After time at the stations, we all came together and shared our experiences, read the psalm together again, and then transitioned into communion.

Thanksgiving

I had never led communion before in a public park (nor while thinking in the back of my head, “I hope this goes quickly so the bratwursts on the grill don’t burn!). We remembered Jesus’ first celebration in the upper room in Jerusalem, prayed for the Spirit’s action and the world, and received the holy meal. It was informal, camp-like, and for me at least, powerful. At the end I said, “One meal has ended, and another begins.” We then enjoyed a cookout and potluck.

So that’s a quick description of the first ever Fargo-Moorhead HolyCity — God’s people gathering together, thinking praying laughing eating and creating together, and being sent to look for God’s work in our lives and in our city. It was a modest affair, but a holy one too.

-Adam

Folks came down around 7ish and got a name tag and mingled for a spell. Appetizers were provided for free. Usher’s has a cash bar with great selections as well. After reaching a critical mass, and sitting through some quick announcements, we split up at three tables to jump-in to the topic.

Rather than having one big discussion group (as we have been doing in past weeks), this week we gathered in smaller groups of about eight people each. They had a sheet with several quotations on the topic that I prepared before hand, as well as possible questions. Some groups were careful to read the quotes and ask the questions. Others didn’t need/want the guidance much, and went into areas of theological questions and debate that most intrigued them.

My table was very interested in the difficulty in determining how God may speak to different people in different ways. It bothered some of us that there are so many interpretations of God’s word(s). So we wondered: is one unchanging God speaking, or is the message of God changing with the times? Other groups agreed that it’s important to struggle to hear God’s voice, that listening takes practice and discipline that is counter-cultural these days.

After about 50 minutes of small group conversations, we came back together in the large group for a final recap. After that, we were “done” but people stayed around chatting for well over an hour. And they say 20-30 somethings don’t like God talk!

So what else strikes you about the night? If you were there, what were the highlights? If you weren’t, what do you think about how God speaks? Next Theology Pub is Aug 15th, 7:00 p.m. at Usher’s House.

-post written by Adam Copeland