Christianity/Peace

Master/Servant to Friend

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I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. (John 15)

Sixteen years ago I had a philosophy professor who shifted my view of the world. It wasn't so much the philosophical concepts–which I didn't always grasp anyway–that caused the shift; it was the way I was introduced to ideas, to other ways of thinking. It wasn't the text, it was the teacher that tilted my world. It wasn't the academic information that I first found compelling, it was Vaden House, and his way of engaging the world of ideas that was self-yielding and flexible, without shades of regression on one hand, or gullibility on the other.

There was no power broking with Vaden. If he was sifting through a problem and discovered an untested avenue, or a new idea, or a new formulation of old idea, he would share it. There was no hording of information so as to use it at some opportune time to impress his students. Everything flowed. Everything was open to discussion. And because he had an abiding love for God and a deep faith, things were open to reinterpretation, things were negotiable.

He had no fear of being blind-sided. No fear of being washed off a rock by some rogue-wave. Because he didn't live…tied to a rock. He lived on the water, floating free, with the vertically steadying effect of a sea-anchor–a concept I've taken to heart because it rings true to being a contingent self.

His soul-space was open. Sitting in his office before or after a class was like being in a hyperbaric chamber. The oxygen was denser and the energy this created was never dammed-up. It flowed through him and you felt your own energy responding. Even though Vaden had a superior mind, what he offered me was not a teacher/student relationship, he offered me the friendship of a fellow pilgrim.

It's astonishing that Jesus–Son of God–offers this kind of friendship.

Jesus declines control and passes-up the power inherent in having the special knowledge of a Master. Instead he makes everything known, everything is brought into the open.

But taking away the master/servant arrangement is destabilizing. We servant/slaves don't always want liberation. Much safer to be stuck in place and rag about the conditions, than risk the new thing. On the flip-side, we who are set on being masters, usually won't relinquish power. Much safer, not to mention prestigious, to stay in control by manipulating who gets to know what.

In the confines of a master/servant relationship nothing much new ever grows. But the destabilizing fraternity of friendship is a green-house. Things flourish here. And here is where we find Jesus.

Although we may want to fall back on a Master/servant relationship with Jesus, it is no longer an option. Only, I suppose, a delusional option. Friendship with Jesus, and all that that implies, is the only way ahead. And if, as Christians, we want to help others, modeling this non-manipulative friendship, which is true friendship, is the only thing that will generate the possibility.

Peace

Loving Enemies and Turning Cheeks

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My grandfather was Mennonite, but after he emigrated, for reasons of his own, he left the “Meno’s” to hook up with the Baptists.

Perhaps there is some residual pacifist DNA in me; I have more than a passive interest in what it is that makes peace, or what things, make for peace. Maybe it’s because I see a hard knot of violence at my own core. It may be a refined sort of violence, the socially acceptable sort, but it is violence non-the-less.

Still, I see myself as a pacifist; at least in principle. But I haven’t been tested, not really. Admittedly, pacifism in principle is easy. In practice–difficult. And in consistent application, next to impossible. But there have been cases where the “next to impossible” has been eclipsed, and that, with a certain ardour.

During the Roman wars of the fifth century no one was safe. Teutonic hordes, namely the Vandals, raided and laid waste to everything in their path. Rome and Roman towns and villages as well as monasteries were all razed along with any humanity within reach.

During one such raid, the story goes, a Warrior-chief rode up to one solitary monk who had decided not to flee his monastery. The Warrior-chief said, “Do you not know who I am? I am the man who can drive my sword through your heart with out blinking an eye.” And the monk responded, “Do you not know who I am? I am the man who will let you drive your sword through my heart without blinking an eye.”

Regarding violence, is there any other avenue open for the Christian other than loving enemies and turning cheeks?

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Religion

Starbucks Log: Oily Contagion

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Log entry: Tired people but basically happy people are ambling into the coffee shop today…what with the Oilers living to fight another day…and fans living to do what they do.

The young Chinese man that served me is seemingly oblivious to the weight of identification we have with the Oilers.

Speaking of identification, not having followed the regular season, I was surprised at the disappointment I felt at the Oiler loss the other night at Rexall. And equally surprised at my own excitement when Pisani scored the overtime goal last night, shorthanded goal to-boot.

At the time, I was at church. There was a celebration in honour of the High School grads, my son being one. The youth pastor was passionately engaged in giving some final commendations and exhortations to the grads and to us parents when we heard the yell. The church's assistant pastor and a friend were watching the game in a back office. The friend appeared at the door and gave the thumbs up. People cheered, …and the youth pastor went on to conclude.

What is it about sports that animates us to the point of giddy obsession? In some cases, violent obsession?

One caller to a radio show this morning reported the scene in the pub he was at last night. Everyone stood, doffed their caps, and sang the national anthem. The radio announcer effused, "So nationalism is cool again!"

I suspect it's a pretty thin nationalistic veneer. Still, how does this work? What's the principle involved?

Is the socio-cultural phenomenon at work here group identification? Is our group adhesion a contagion? If there were no other groups, or teams, or nations, would there still be any kind of group cohesion? That is, does the bonding of one group depend almost entirely on the existence of other groups? And if so, what does this tell us about ourselves? Is group competition, something that can be good-natured and self-revealing, also something that can too readily slip into gang rivalry or virulent nationalism? Is this one of the fallen principalities St. Paul talked about?

Finally does this understanding, if it is an understanding, of identifying ourselves with some group, abstract or otherwise, keep alive our propensity of segmenting people, and, does this have any bearing on how treat and care for people? Just pondering.