Recently I had occasion to consider why in one context I said that location was not a factor in missional engagement, while in another context I said it definitely was. I was convinced I was right both times, but the two statements are clearly contradictory — at least at face value. Faced with having to explain myself, I sat down to work it out. Specifically, I’m to consider whether or not location is an inherent aspect of missionality. To do this, I began with a kind of “stream of consciousness” writing whereby I asked and answered questions of myself, thinking it through as I went along. I’ve since gone back and revised those notes to add a bit of explanation and to string them together so that no great leaps of thinking are needed to make sense of it. Or so I hope. In the process, I add to my notes on location by getting into what it means to “share our faith,” but that comes at the end, and we haven’t yet done the beginning.
This is part newsbit and part shameless plug. As I’ve mentioned, I am involved in the Wikiklesia Project which has been started by John La Grou and Len Hjalmarson. As of now, the chapter titles have been announced (with contributors), as well as the release date of July 23, 2007. The book will be available in electronic, dead-tree, and audio formats; electronic or printed copies will be $15, with all proceeds going to the Not For Sale Campaign.
This first Wikiklesia book is entitled Voices of the Virtual World: Participative Technology and the Ecclesial Revolution. My chapter is titled, “Hyperlinks Subvert Hierarchy: The Internet, Non-Hierarchical Organizations, and the Structure of the Church” and it’s settled in with some very good company, so I hope it lives up! While browsing the list, I noticed that Scot McKnight is subtitled “A Blogger formerly known as Professor” ;^)
Like my friend Bill Kinnon, I’m struggling with an article for Wikiklesia‘s inaugural project. I’ve been asked for 2,000 words. Oddly enough, I could fairly do about 1,000 or I could fairly easily do about 5,000. Trying to distill what I want to talk about into the right length in a way that provides enough support and still leaves me enough space to interpret and opine is proving more difficult… but I will prevail! And I’ve got to do it before we slip into the weekend, as the deadline is Monday. Next week I’ll have to record the audio — every author is submitting not only their manuscript, but an MP3 file of themselves reading it. Very cool idea, and I’m proud to be involved. Can’t wait to read everyone else’s submissions.
I wrote an article for Allelon last month, and since it’s dropped off the main page there a couple of weeks ago now, I figured I’d re-post it here now. The article is a reworking of two older posts here (excluding the third in a series) from March 2007, and appeared at Allelon.org in April 2007. We had some good discussion on the original posts back in March (though there was less on the Allelon site), but with the further development of some of my thoughts in the article, I thought we might revisit the subject.
Give the article a look and let me know what you think.
The whole story:
- An Account of the First Easter: Prologue
- An Account of the First Easter: Part I (For Palm Sunday)
- An Account of the First Easter: Part II (Monday, The Fig Tree & The Temple)
- An Account of the First Easter: Part III (Tuesday)
- An Account of the First Easter: Part IV (Wednesday)
- An Account of the First Easter: Part V (Thursday, Passover)
- Passover & the First Eucharist (Related Material)
- An Account of the First Easter: Part VI (Friday, Trial & Crucifixion)
- An Account of the First Easter: Part VII (Easter Sunday)
Back in 1999 during the Advent season as Christmas was drawing very near, I put fingers to keyboard and recorded an Advent reflection. I hadn’t done any writing for a number of years at that point, so I remember it felt good to publish something again, and I was generally pleased with it at the time. I dug it up and re-published it last year during Advent, but most regular readers of this blog hadn’t really discovered it by that time. So as I said then, each year since 1999 I have pulled out this reflection, read it through, and thought upon it. Despite knowing what’s coming next at each turn, if when I read it I am cautious to slow down and read it reflectively, I find that somehow it still speaks some new insight to me each year. I keep wanting to rewrite it, to change it and update it with new ideas, but I continue to resist the urge. In any event, I represent it now; it has to do with the shepherd’s experience of the nativity — one shepherd in particular, whose name we never learn, but whose account I have titled “We All Heard It.”
Continuing our Advent 2005 series, with Advent IV we’re considering Simeon and Anna. In a serendipitous stroke of coincidence, the Christmas program that my oldest daughter is participating in this year also features Simeon and Anna. The program is a joint one between her school and the church which runs the school — my CLB, in fact. A good friend who I might call “Roger T. Shrubber” is playing Simeon. The program went very well on Friday evening, and runs again later this afternoon. Sometimes I have to work at resisting the urge to say, “that’s not 100% historically accurate” or “really, they would have…” or “the text doesn’t quite say that…” or whatever. When successful in my suspense of critique of the insignificant, I find I enjoy things far more.
The characters we’re using for the third week of Advent reflection are Mary and Elizabeth. Scot McKnight has been blogging about them all week, with a daily entry considering different aspects of how the Christmas story affected them. I have not been meditating on these two characters so much this week, but have some near-extemporaneous thoughts I’d like to string together. Hold onto your seats, we’re going to try some stream-of-conciousness blogging. Only slight interruptions will occur while I Google something, but you shouldn’t really notice the pauses ;^)
It’s a little odd I suppose that the Christmas story begins with unexpected events. Perhaps odd because the Advent season is about waiting, about expectation. It’s about hope fulfilled, and yet the fulfillment of the hope, the end of the waiting, comes as a surprise. It comes in unexpected ways.