Ghandi-like Simplicity

I recommend that you take the time to read this op-ed article. It is interesting. I think what I find interesting about it is how those outside of our faith can see the basics of our faith better than we often can.

While I disagree with Brennan on the key point that he appears to be unconvinced of Christ’s deity and therefore assuming a universalist position, I wonder at how clearly he sees the core ideas of our faith. The quote from Ghandi stating that Jesus’ message can be encapsulated by the Sermon on the Mount intrigues me.

I don’t necessarily agree with that claim, but it intrigues me, because this whole thing really is much simpler than we paint it to be. My seminary career was suffocated by people who couldn’t just present the simple Gospel: they had to have every semantic nuance in pristine order, for fear that the hearer (typically other “followers” whom they wanted to out-spiritualize) wouldn’t understand it clearly. But it is clear. It is clear without theological attempts to better define it, without philosophical attempts to correlate it, and without apologetic attempts justify it.

The Message is simple. Ghandi recognized that, at least in an incomplete form. How is it that we miss it, and, in doing so, drive seekers into the insanity that we’ve condemned ourselves to in our Evangelical subculture?

Geez, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

White Mocha Philosophy

Karen and I returned from California in the wee hours of this morning, and I’m struggling to adapt back to East coast time. I usually become reflective when I sit around and run out of things to do (as tends to happen on coast-to-coast flights), and I found myself thinking about people. Not the family we were visiting, or their wedding that was the reason for our trip, or the beautiful West coast visages. I was thinking about a guy at Starbucks.

Knowing my addiction, it was a given that, as soon as we arrived in town and settled into the hotel, I needed to know where the closest Starbucks could be located. It served as an oasis away from the wedding-related craziness for several of us. There was one guy working there every morning. He remembered us. Asked us how the wedding had gone as Karen and I stopped for breakfast on our way out of town. Gave me a free cup of coffee. I remember his face and his voice very well.

I remember the homeless person in the parking lot as we returned to the car asking for a few dollars in the hopes of eating his own breakfast.

I remember the guy I was sandwiched into on the first leg of our return flight, and how, despite the fact that I was more than a bit irritated that I ended up in a seat next to him instead of my wife (who was two rows up…that airline won’t be seeing my return business), turned out to be a cool guy with an interesting perspective on life.

I guess it struck me as I sat around vegging…I mean, resting and recovering…this afternoon that we tend to disregard those things. We forget people we meet, that we come into contact with even for a brief period of time. We let these moments go by us when our stories cross someone else’s, when the plots of two separate genres mingle for a moment. I’ve had it strike me before, sometimes in poignant ways, but it has been staying with me today.

Our technological advancements have minimized human contact. When we do have contact, we tend to voluntarily make it as minimal as possible (like the flight attendant who I decided didn’t warrant any eye contact when she asked for my drink order because I was upset about the seating screw-up). In doing so, have we left something essential behind? Are we losing a piece of our souls when we neglect to take the moment to connect with someone else’s? What’s it like to remember the name and small pieces of the life story of someone you just met because you were taking their coffee order?

I’m sad to say…I’m not sure I know any longer.

But I intend to re-discover the mystery.