What I Did on Sunday

I got up and looked at my computer screen and sent the following email:

 

Dear Mr. Kaleem,

 

For the past day, I have been staring at headlines claiming that "Pastor Rick Warren's son committed suicide," including one above your own article.

 

You are in a position to have an effect on the usage of that horrific phrase, "committed suicide."

 

Most people who die of suicide, especially those who die due to acute or prolonged mental illness (which is, indeed, the vast majority of people who so die) do not "commit" suicide, any more than someone "commits" a heart attack, or cancer, or diabetes.

 

Death by suicide is not a crime.

 

It only adds to the anguish of survivors to hear and read a phrase that implies that their loved one intended to leave them, as you or I would understand the meaning of the phrase, or engaged in criminal activity.

 

You and the Huffington Post wield the power of the media, and are in a position to influence the language we use to describe mental illness and one of its possible consequences.

 

Please consider altering yours to terms such as "died of suicide" or "died by suicide," words that you might use to describe other means of death.

 

I am a suicide survivor and a pastor, and I thank you for your consideration.

 

*****

 

I had a serious discussion with someone whose (self-described) black-and-white theology leaves no room for my multi-hued and shaded version.

 

*****

 

And then, for the first time, I baptized a beautiful little baby.  And proclaimed as loud and as long and as emphatically as I could that God's love is abundant and limitless and will not be subverted.

 

*****

 

Because if I did not believe that, I would not be a suicide survivor, and I would not be baptizing any babies.

 

 

Theology

When I was a first year seminary student, not so very long ago, one of my professors told me that it would take me about three years in ministry to sort through my theology and know where I stood. 

 

I wonder whether it will take that long.  I think I might be there.  (The only other option I see at the moment is Buddhism.) (That is not intended as a pejorative remark.) My son's death altered my life trajectory considerably.  Mentally, emotionally, spiritually ~  true, some things take a lot longer than I might have once expected.  Some are simply no longer possible.  But some move with the speed of light when I had thought that they would proceed more slowly.  

 

There are some things pertaining to Josh's death that I do not discuss.  Maybe a couple of priests know one or two of them.  But they have changed me in irrevocable ways.  And because of them, certain aspects of theology have sorted themselves into place without waiting for me to catch up.

 

Here. Now.  My non-negotiables:

 

Both/And.  Applies to almost everything, at least in this life.  No other way of explaining most of it.

 

You can tell me your either/ors if you wish.  I will always listen.  But they will make no sense to me, if they ever did, which was probably not the case.

 

God's love and grace: Lavish and inexhaustible.  No exceptions.  If that is not true,  I'm done.

 

You might think that the last one is an either/or.

 

Another professor (and you know who you are) said to me, maybe during my last year of seminary, "You want there to be free will, but you also expect God to fix everything."

 

Yes.

 

So God's love and grace are also both/ands.

 

*****

 

This gets me into trouble.

 

You try knowing some of the things I know and see if you think differently.

On My Kindle

In another 48 hours, I will be delivering out-of-town friends to overnight destinations and preparing to sleep for a long, long time. I doubt that I'll write anything much between now and Monday; there's still a lot to do, there's a potential for a major change in the service, and Michelle arrives late tomorrow afternoon ~ which means nonstop conversation ahead!  My dear friend Carol arrives as well, but she's staying with friends, so we have to wait a bit longer for our actual encounter.

In the meantime, I'm about to settle in for a little reading and I thought that I'd record what's in active status on my Kindle at the moment:

Resilience, by Elizabeth Edwards.  I'm reading it since she, too, lost a son and then discovered that she had breast cancer.  A lot of other bad things happened to her, too, and she died knowing that her husband had completely failed her and their children.  I'm finding the book oddly disjointed, which is not surprising, I suppose, although it seems that an editor might have taken things in hand.

An Ignatian Pathway, by Paul Coutinho, S.J.  I'm not sure I'm even past the introduction yet, so I have nothing to say about this one.

The Monks of Tibhurine, byJohn Kiser. I loved the movie, and I'm glad I saw it first, as the visuals have stayed with me and help to fill out the book.  I'm fascinated by the monks' interactions with their Muslim neighbors, and by the Algerian history of which I knew nothing. 

Church and Countryside, by Tim Gibson.  I came across this title when I was doing some online research on the concept of the rural church.  I'm not very far into it, but I was grateful to discover that others have begun to explore and analyze the unique potential for contribution by small churches whose congregants have intentionally chosen rural and small town lives.

Christ, The Sacrament of Encounter with God, by Edward Schillebeeckx, O.P.  I've heard of Schillebeeckx, but never read him.  Last week his name came up in a series of lectures on suffering to which I was listening; he is apparently a great proponent of the value of narrative.  In fact, I would venture to say that he has had a huge impact on another person I know.  This might have been the only book of his available on Kindle; at any rate, it's the one I bought.

So there you have it, the eclectic reading interests of a Presbyterian pastor, immediately pre-ordination: breast cancer, grief, Ignatian spirituality, interfaith engagement, the contemplative life, the rural church, and Christology.

I wonder what the list will look like a year from now!