Intellectualism in Community of Christ

My spiritual journey up to this point, an elaborate love affair with many sacred texts and perspectives on the divine from several ecumenical and interfaith contexts, has not involved a strong emotional connection to the Book of Mormon.  But I'm working with the assumption that full membership in Community of Christ requires a good understanding and personal appreciation of the significance of all of our scriptural texts - and while the Community of Christ Theology course I took at Graceland was edifying, that was 5 years and several perspectives ago.

So in preparation for my baptism into the Community of Christ church in 2 1/2 weeks, I've begun reading Dale E. Luffman's The Book of Mormon's Witness to Its First Readers, published by Community of Christ Seminary Press earlier this year.  Luffman's goal in this book to contextualize the Book of Mormon by drawing attention to the spiritual, intellectual and emotional climate in which Joseph Smith Jr. lived and to which he responded in the founding of his church.  It's a laudable goal, and certainly a helpful one, considering the strong emphasis on historical criticism in the way Community of Christ students are taught to interpret the scriptures.

The thing that strikes me the most, as of page 42, is that despite everything I know about the racism, sexism, and lots of other isms which many have found in the Book of Mormon, the text passionately protests against classism.  This emphasis on social justice makes a whole lot of sense, considering the increasingly progressive direction in which the church is heading.  Smith created a religious movement which focused on empowering the poor, the marginalized, and the uneducated.  The doctrine of continuing revelation means that everyone has access to the revelatory communication of God.  The priesthood of all believers means that we emphasize organic and intuitive ministry - if you are called to the priesthood, you don't need a fancy seminary degree to minister to your community (which is especially helpful if that graduate education is cost prohibitive).  This makes a lot of sense to me, and I have always taken pride in the way these beliefs and practices create a worldview which feels, to me, resonant and vibrant and earthy.

But while I am grateful for the countercultural flavor of the Book of Mormon, which of course leads to the Community of Christ's mission "to proclaim Jesus Christ and promote communities of joy, hope, love, and peace", I'm worried about Luffman's assertion that the book on which my church is founded is largely anti-intellectual.  Luffman explores the deism and rationalism of Smith's time, and highlights the Book of Mormon's assumed correlation between education and the sin of pride.  He refers to "the book's intolerance for rationalism". (40)

"...for the wisdom of their wise and learned shall perish, 

and the understanding of their prudent shall be hid."

- 2 Nephi 27:26

I have always been intellectual, and I have always been proud; and while I never claimed to read every word assigned for my classes, it's possible I picked up enough to count as "learned".  My three years of seminary were spent as a member of a Unitarian Universalist church, which celebrates the kind of naturalism and rationalism against which Joseph Smith Jr. was rebelling.  Now I have a Master of Divinity degree and both training and experience in professional ministry, and I am joining a church which practices lay priesthood.

This isn't really a problem, of course; I know that Community of Christ values diversity in the gifts and skills of its members.  All are called to participate in the ministry of the church and in the creation of Zion.  I have no doubt at all that I will be able to bring my education to bear in contributing to the church's mission in whichever way I am called.

TL;DR - My actual point is this: The Community of Christ church today is very distinct from the first generation of Mormonism established by Joseph Smith Jr.  We ordain women, we're starting to ordain LGBT members, we witness through work rather than proselytism, we are non-creedal, we engage in ecumenical relationships to promote peace and social justice.  But then we're not all that different in essentials; it seems to me all of these progressive practices stem from exactly the same religious egalitarianism on which Luffman reminds us the LDS church was founded.  We are still Mormon.  So even as the CofC church grows its seminary and invests in the professional development of our church leaders (that's what the Mission Center courses and workshops are for, yes?) - is the Community of Christ worldview still flavored by the Book of Mormon's anti-intellectualism?

If so, I have a lot more work to do to fit in.

Of course, I suspect that the next 175 pages of Luffman's book will give relief to these concerns, or at least answer my questions.  But as a very rational girl joining a profoundly intuitive faith, my worry seemed to justify this very long thought process.

Kirkwood Community of Christ at the Festival of Nations

Today, my father and I will help run the Community of Christ church's booth at the International Institute of St. Louis' Festival of Nations.  He plans to proselytize, and while that's never really my jam, I'm excited just to be friendly and educate interested passersby about our church.  The Festival of Nations is always a really great experience, filled with a rich variety of cultures and colors and sounds, and new information about perhaps unfamiliar parts of the world.

To prepare for our participation in representing the CofC church, we've put together a flyer with key facts about our own congregation, Kirkwood Community of Christ.  This project was really energizing for me, since we spent some time articulating some of the best things about our community.

My time with Eliot Unitarian Chapel and Unitarian Universalism left me with too much conviction in our basic human right to practice different faiths and beliefs - and I am personally intensely passionate about celebrating religious diversity - so I don't plan on trying to bring anybody to Christ today.  But I do hope that we can reach out to those who are already a little inclined to be interested, so we might get a few more butts in the pews in the upcoming weeks.  Kirkwood Community of Christ is a a sacred place and a strong faith family, and I look forward to helping more folks know about it.

So if you're in the Tower Grove Park area today from 1-3 pm, I hope to see you there. :)

Why Playing Dungeons & Dragons Is a Spiritual Practice

Last Saturday, the whole gang finally ended an epic eight-month Pathfinder roleplaying game campaign, finally reaching the end of the story we were telling together.  After many, many nail-biting, caffeine-chugging hours, we saved the world!  And the story, though incredibly complex and confusing, offered me one particular God-moment that I will never forget.

Making a looong story short, my character was a Samsaran⁽¹⁾ paladin⁽²⁾ who served Pharasma⁽³⁾ and worked with a team of heroes to prevent Lolth⁽⁴⁾ from making the world a living hell.

⁽¹⁾ blue-skinned humanoid who continually reincarnates in the pursuit of enlightenment

⁽²⁾ hero-champion of a god

⁽³⁾ the Goddess of Death – neutral, peaceful death rather than destructive, macabre death or undeath

⁽⁴⁾ eeeeeeeevil goddess Demon Queen of Spiders

                          

[sample image of a Samsaran, from Paizo's Pathfinder]            [Pharasma, PathfinderWiki.com]

[Lolth, www.ObsidianPortal.com]

And despite the fact that I already gave a full sermon this summer on the spiritual significance of folks’ love of fantasy stories and games*, I feel moved to share one scene in that last 10-hour session which gave me all the tell-tale signs that God is making God’s presence known – hot tears in the eye, prickly skin, and big smile on the face.

Just as all of our heroes finally reached the end boss combat with Lolth herself, Lolth hurled some insta-kill magic at us all.  Then the Dungeon Master, the storyteller in chief, gave each of our characters the saving grace of a theophany, the full physical appearance of each of our gods.  He told me that my character felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Pharasma; and the goddess looked Lolth dead in the eye and said, “You will never, ever take one of mine from me.”

I suspect I’m not the only one who quietly longs to have that kind of experience with God.  To be accepted totally, the way Pharasma accepted the service and devotion of my blue-tinted paladin, who had struggled with moral alignment issues throughout the story.  To have such a powerful embodiment of deeply valued truths stand there in all her glory – standing by and supporting a person of imperfect faith in the face of destruction and pain.  Pharasma, the impassive Lady of Graves, ambivalently neutral in Pathfinder canon but – since the storyteller is a seminarian, after all - gently pastoral ‘in person’.

I will never stop talking about the essentially pastoral nature of God, and I will never stop seeking and collecting and reveling in and sharing every moment experienced in the visceral reality of that pastoral power.  So I won’t stop playing games like Dungeons & Dragons anytime soon.

Though my friends take the opportunity in these games to pretend to be all kinds of different things, roleplaying their way through different perspectives and personas, I will always be a paladin at heart.  D&D helps me realize in some small way my dream of being a heroic person of faith for whom God is always present and always felt, and who finds her own power for doing good in the awe-inspiring reality of God.

* “Dungeons & Dragons & Daniel in the Den”, Eliot Unitarian Chapel, June 23, 2013, http://www.eliotchapel.org/recentsermons

Friendship Is Sacred

THIS is the most sacred thing I've encountered this week:

A letter from my best friend, my Brother Man.  In three short pages, my friend has extended such love and steadfast support, all the way from the other side of the country.  With the expense of only $0.44 for a stamp, he has given me a great gift - a token of friendship and an anchor of the unconditionality of our bond.

One of my favorite lines in this letter: "Your friendship gives me incredible comfort, quite like when you picture God I'm sure."

...Man, this guy knows how to make me cry!  Reading this, I feel so known and understood - which is, of course, the best thing about old friends.

I have always taken my friendships a little too seriously, usually capitalizing them when they become deep, intimate, most sacred.  I have been blessed with a handful of Friends so far in my life.  These are the folks for whom I will drive through the night if they need me there, who will always have the use of my couch as a place to crash, and who can always have my last $5.  

And these are the folks who help make up the face of my God, because they have manifested in my life some of the most relational aspects of God's nature, with their loyalty, respect, forgiveness and humor.  A friend loves us both for and in spite of ourselves.  And to be a friend is to choose someone else, in a way we don't get to choose the people who share our blood, so a friend doesn't HAVE to love us.   A friend chooses to esteem, honor and stand by another person...while still being ready to call them out on their crap!

Seems to me, that sounds a lot like God.

I like God as Father well enough, since my own father has so fabulously modeled what that role can be.  And God as Mother, as Lord, as Shepherd works too. But I've always been partial to the metaphor of God as Friend, because the love of my best friends have always filled me with the same kind of awe and deep gratitude that I feel when I think about all the grace God has ever offered me.  

The main difference is that the gratitude I feel for my friends stems from the knowledge that they could just as easily choose to leave my life; and I thank God that they stick around.  They help me believe that God is even that much more steadfast in God's presence and love.  God can be relied upon to be there when I need God, to offer me a place to crash, and to help me find what I need to make it to tomorrow.

As always, the Sufi poets seem to put it best:

"This is the kind of Friend

You are - 

Without making me realize

My soul's anguished history,

You slip into my house at night, 

And while I am sleeping,

You silently carry off

All my suffering and sordid past

In Your beautiful

Hands."

- Hafiz

So thank you, Brother Man, for giving me a few pieces of paper which will, in my silly heart, symbolize all the awe-inspiring love we offer one another, and all the love I find in God.