Currents of Faith: Open and Unfolding Reflections

I used to think that I was a miserable failure at praying. After many years I now believe that I pray in a way which fits my theology. When I entered the church at age sixteen, I learned first about corporate prayer, those words spoken by the minister and the total congregation. The two prayers I heard most frequently were the pastoral prayer and the Lord’s Prayer. It would be much later when I would learn more about and engage in personal prayer. I must say that I have had quite a journey with prayer.

The two branches of the Brizee family in Twin Falls were divided. The family of Leland, my father’s youngest brother, and his wife Elizabeth were one branch, my mother’s family the other. If the division were present before my father’s death, I did not know, but the chasm was accentuated following his death. My lack of understanding arises from my young age at his death.

I have always had trouble with the word salvation and an even greater problem with the question: “Are you saved?” I was repulsed by them, feeling that they just did not fit in my vocabulary. My entry into the church at age sixteen marked the beginning of my struggle with salvation. I loved the church and eagerly participated. I did not like salvation.

During the Lenten season I decided to offer an evening class on the topic, “A Deeper Exploration of God.” I announced that the content of the class would come from the questions which people brought. Following are several of those questions:

“Why do so many bad things keep happening on earth under God’s watch?

For a process theologian, one might suppose, it is always time for candor. But from the process perspective, various desiderata should always be considered. When candor is cruel or dangerous, it may have to be set aside, at least for a while. On the other hand, when candor is too long postponed, the values for whose sake it is postponed may themselves be endangered.

My theology guides me to seek experience to understand events. I began with searching the books between the bookends of Jesus’ life, the actual history of what Jesus said and did. I now turn to my search for the experiences of the church expressed in the bookends of Christmas and Easter. I move from what Jesus said to what was said about Jesus, from proclaimer to proclaimed.

When I was young I used to hear the story that the leaders of the Russian Orthodox Church, at just the time when the Bolsheviks overthrew the rather moderate Mensheviks, were holding a great national conference on vestments. This story was told, not to deny the importance of proper vestments in worship, but to illustrate the inability of Christians, and, indeed, people in general, to make sound judgments of relative importance. As a youth I was shocked, and I naively assumed that we American Protestants would never make mistakes of this kind.

Let Jesus speak. Alas, the words of Jesus have waxed and waned in the 2000 years since he uttered them. Dr. Alfred North Whitehead spoke of Jesus as the “brief Galilean flicker.” In the church today we celebrate the bookends of Jesus’ life, his birth and death. Few pay much attention in that period of the church year called Kingdomtide, yet we all anticipate and lavishly celebrate Christmas and Easter. For me, however, the Kingdom is central, for there I find the voice of Jesus. In the bookends I hear the voice of his followers, the church. I value what Jesus said more than what the church said about Jesus.

I now move to how theology has informed my faith, focusing specifically upon areas which have been central to the Christian faith: Scripture, Jesus, Christ, Evil, Salvation, Forgiveness, Prayer, Death and Judgment. I begin with the Bible.

Not since Earth Day 1970 has there been one that bore more promise. 1970 was the year when the American public recognized that the human treatment of the rest of the world was a matter of profound importance. In the following years Congress past significant legislation and Nixon signed it into law. No doubt there were many corporations unhappy about these developments, but their objections were swept aside. In a few years the opponents were better organized. Environmentalists have largely succeeded in protecting the legislation of the Nixon era from serious weakening, but no further advance has been possible. Other nations soon surpassed us, and the United States became the major obstacle to global progress.

Adrienne and I were driving home from an early September visit with our daughter in Seattle. Two mountain passes separate Seattle and Wenatchee and we had crossed Snoqualmie Pass and were approaching the ascent to Blewett Pass. It was early evening and darkness was setting in. The brightness of the headlights of several cars coming  toward us limited my vision. As the last car went by I noticed movement ahead, some vague figures on the highway. I quickly pumped the brakes, slowing from the speed limit I had been traveling. There loomed in front of us a herd of elk crossing the road. I cried out, “Oh, God,” clenched the steering wheel and jammed the brakes even more forcefully. The tires squealed as we were thrust forward in our seat belts. I could not stop in time. The huge animals were as shocked as we, suddenly startled and blinded by our oncoming headlights.

It is ironic that just as the neo-conservatives have visibly asserted American global rule, and also made us aware that from the beginning American foreign policy has been imperialist in nature, our global reach is receding. Our ability to shape human history is dramatically declining. Since process theologians can never support imperialism, the end of empire is good news.