politics, or theology?

There's lots of chatter this week about Menlo Park Presbyterian Church, which just voted to leave the PCUSA and go to ECO. The vote was overwhelming (93% in favor of leaving). Paired with last week's news that First Presbyterian in Houston's vote to leave failed by 36 votes, it's an interesting study in denominational politics.

Of course, the way MPPC is spinning it is as about theology, not polity. And they are entitled to believe that. Especially with quotes like this one:

...citing a 2011 PCUSA survey that suggested 41 percent agreed with the statement, “Only followers of Jesus Christ can be saved."

I took that survey. And I am one of the 45 percent that marked that I disagree with that statement. Here's why:

It's un-Reformed.

Because the primary theological principle of the Reformed tradition is the Sovereignty of God. There is no way I was going to mark "strongly agree" on something that said "only followers of Jesus can be saved." Because to say that is to limit God's sovereignty. What if God decides to save someone who is not a follower of Jesus during their earthly life? Or is not a follower of Jesus in the way I think they should be? Can God save them? Absolutely yes. It is not my place as a fallible human being to limit God's power.

Jesus said "I have other sheep not of this fold" (John 10). The confessions say that we are to have "good hope for all" (Second Helvetic Confession, chapter 10). How then could we presume to answer an unequivocal yes to any question that states what God can or cannot do?

So yes, Menlo Park is right that this is a theological break. Because they have decided what God can and cannot do, and that is a break from the historic Reformed tradition. I wish them well as they seek another path. May all of us, whatever path the Spirit places us on, find ourselves daily in the presence of God.


**there are of course a variety of factors involved in this decision, ranging from property ownership to LGBT issues to a desire not to be burdened by other mission foci than their own. But this theological issue is the one they have cited as the heart of the problem, so I have taken them at their word.**

bad religion

Tonight's TOP-ic (Thursday On the Patio) was "Bad Religion." People were wondering just what that was going to mean, which was awesome because I turned it back and asked "what is bad religion"...or what is it that makes for a toxic faith that does not promote the abundant life we know that Jesus came to give us?

I was trying to keep it away from particular religions, because the reality is that every religious tradition has bad and good, just like every person. And the further reality is that in the USA, our media covers the extremes of religion, not the majority. I recognize almost nothing of the Christianity that is represented in the media. I suspect the same is true for my Muslim friends--what they see on TV and hear on the news bears little resemblance to their faith tradition. I know it's true for my Jewish friends. And when you leave Abrahamic religions and get into the more "exotic" traditions, well, if they are portrayed in the media somehow, it's almost always poorly.

So the group tonight decided that the hallmarks of "bad religion" are attempts to control, excessive certainty, using fear, manipulating or isolating people, allowing one person to have too much power, promising material rewards. The usual suspects that you can find in the vast majority of people's perceptions of religion, in other words.

The question I wanted to ask but didn't was: when have we participated in bad religion? When have we, as individuals around that table or as a church community, perpetuated this pop-christianity or used religious words and ideas in such a way that they hurt people rather than lead to the flourishing of God's kingdom?

When we are unkind to one another, when there are cliques in the church, when our love is only for those who look like us, when we insist on our own way or bolster our own power, that's bad religion. When we use the words of scripture to wound rather than heal, that's bad religion. When we allow one person to hold the church hostage to their way of doing things, for fear they might leave, that's bad religion. (no, it's not the same as following a cult leader...except it kind of is, in a way.) When we focus on the building or a program or a historical moment at the expense of loving our neighbors who currently exist right outside our doors, that's bad religion.

I'm guessing very few people disagree with that.

But what about this:
is it bad religion when we hear someone claiming that Christians/Muslims/Hindus/Sikhs are (or do, or believe) _______ and we don't speak up about the stereotyping?
is it bad religion when we see someone in need and pass by on the other side?
is it bad religion when we have an opportunity to be a little bit of good news in someone else's life, and we don't take it?
it is bad religion when we hear someone using scripture to hurt and we don't chime in with another interpretation?
is it bad religion when we reinforce unrealistic expectations for our kids/coworkers/family?
is it bad religion when we talk about another church member, or a coworker, or a friend, when they're not around?

If bad religion is primarily about things that work against Abundant Life, aren't we all participating in it in some way?

And then the question I did ask: how can we be people of good religion instead? How can we be people of life-giving faith, of good news, of hope and love for neighbor? How can we show our love for God, and more importantly God's love for us, all the time? It's hard work to counteract this culture of toxicity. But the only way to counter it is to be like a shot of good news. Can we do it?

degeneration and regeneration

Recently I went to a lecture by Niall Ferguson (that's pronounced like Neil), with these words in the title. Degeneration and Regeneration. It was ostensibly a lecture about how our institutions in the US have declined (maybe even disintegrated), and how the come-back is also happening. Not "how" as in "this happened..." but "how" as in literally what steps took place that brought us here.

His number one point was that this societal/cultural/institutional disintegration is happening because of a "massive breach in the social contract between generations." He talked about how at some point, we stopped caring (or at least our policies and most of our actions imply that we stopped caring)  about those who will come after us and thought primarily about what was good for us now. This wasn't even entirely about generations as we normally conceive of them--Boomers and Xers and Millennials (though there was some talk in this area)--
but as in "those of us alive now" forgetting that what we have was at least partially built by those who came before, and that we should be thinking about what we're building for those who come after.

To which I say: yes yes yes. We have become so enamored of our instant gratification and our ability to meet our every desire that we have forgotten that there's more to life than what we can have, do, or be ourselves.

When this shift happened and our primary concern became ourselves and the comfort of our lives in the here and now, our institutions began to decline so rapidly it's actually a little mind-boggling. Our economic institutions, our religious institutions, our educational system, our understanding of what it means to be a member of a society, our associations and groups, our political institutions--all are failing. The economic collapse is a pretty tangible symptom, and I think we could put Congress pretty squarely in that tangible-symptom column too. And the decline in church attendance. And the decline in groups like Rotary or the Junior League. And the discussion about public schools and teachers, and the discussion about unions and pensions and minimum wage and all kinds of other things.

Though I will note that Niall Ferguson and I disagree pretty heavily about some of those things. (His solution to the education problem is to privatize education and create economic-style competition among primary and secondary schools. I think that would actually further contribute to the breach of contract between generations.)

In any case: his lecture title is about de-generation, which has happened and continues to happen. But he also talks about re-generation--he has massive amounts of optimism, maybe even hope. Some of that may be tenuously founded, but he has it nonetheless.

I think I do too, but I also think it's going to take a HUGE amount of work on our part to re-generate--as in, to rebuild the contract between the generations. It will require actual relationships with people of different ages, socio-economic statuses, life experience, etc. It will require that we constantly and consciously look for the bigger picture--not just what can we do right now, but what will that mean in 5, 10, 15, 50 years? It will require the long view of history and the future. It will require that we learn to listen to one another without formulating our own rebuttal. It will require that we learn compassion.

Most of all: it will require that we actually spend time together not just in our own nuclear families or small friend-groups, but by associating with all kinds of people, even some with whom we disagree, as we listen and search and wonder and serve.

Kind of sounds like church.

Here's hoping that the church can recover the best of itself--its calling to be the Body of Christ--and lead the way on this regeneration. of course, that would require that we take the focus off of what and who can serve us (save us?) in the short term and look at the bigger picture. That bigger picture is what we usually call The Kingdom of God. Jesus teaches us to pray that it will come on earth as it is in heaven. That's a pretty long view--much longer than the annual statistical report or the fundraiser or the hymn selection or the new member class or how many hours the pastor spends visiting/in the office/at Presbytery.

Can we take our eyes off the expedient ways we seek to feed our immediate desires long enough to look at that bigger picture, to be a part of the regeneration?

I don't know the answer to that question, but my own answer is: I hope.

every day's a mission trip

Tonight we started a new thing, which I'm calling "TOP"--Thursdays on the Patio. Whoever wants to comes to a local restaurant/brewery and sits on the patio talking about theology stuff for an hour. There's a TOPic for each week. Today's was "Faith Outside the Box."

We talked a little about the boxes we put ourselves in and those we think the culture puts us in, as Christians. "Christians should..." be loving, radical, less narrow-minded, relax. Then we talked about how dangerous it can be to put God in a box--ever read that story in 2 Samuel 6? It's something else. Someone who tries to control God gets zapped, literally. oops. Note to self: attempting to control God is dangerous. Too dangerous. Don't do it.

But then...if God is love, awesome, big, good...if Jesus is loving, radical, healer, revealer-of-God...and if the church is the Body of Christ...why aren't we out loving, healing, being radical revealers of God?

short answer: cuz it's hard.
slightly longer answer: because people are a little afraid of Christians--there's so much baggage and expectation and small-box-ness about the word or the idea, that if we say we're Christians or we go to church, people back away a little. We're all tired of having to say "but not that kind of Christian."

really long answer: because we're so busy trying to think the right things that we forget who we're called to BE. we've gotten so confused with the word "church" thinking it's a place we go, we've forgotten how to be the church. we've become so caught up in the stuff we're supposed to do, we don't have time to wonder about God's purpose.

In other words: we've got our hands squarely on the God-box, holding it steady, and we've ceased to expect to get zapped because the God inside is so small and easily contained, manageable.

So what if we could imagine that God is the one with the mission, not us? It's not something we SHOULD DO, but something God IS DOING. Then every day is a choice to join in the mission.

Mission is another one of those loaded words. We think of it as synonymous with serving/helping. So to join God in the mission must mean doing more things. We got into a brief discussion about the word Missionary and how much baggage that has too (see this blog for more on that!). But really, it means BEING with God, paying attention to God's purpose and God's presence.

Reggie McNeal talks about how when we're on a mission trip, we approach every day as if it's loaded with opportunity, with Spirit, with promise. We're looking for where God is acting and how we can be a part of that. Whether or not we actually accomplish anything on the mission trip, we were with God. Maybe we jumped rope with kindergarteners all day, or maybe we built a house, or maybe we ate lunch with people who are alone most days, or maybe we cleaned a park, but whatever it was, we were on the lookout.

What if every day was like that? At my office, I'm on a mission trip. On the freeway: mission trip. At the grocery store, on the playground, walking downtown, on the train, at the coffee shop: mission trip. We're the deployed staff of God, constantly working out God's purpose: the kingdom on earth.

We'd certainly be outside the box!

Go.

Spirit

Some of these words are hard to capture in a day-to-day life photo! I know some people are using photos they find and others are using past photos, but I've approached this challenge as "each day take a photo that illustrates the word" (well, illustrate may be the wrong explanation...show? Reveals?) anyway...Spirit s a hard one because one of the things about The Spirit is how elusive she is--present yet always just out of intellectual reach. And when we think about the spirit of a person or a place, how do we capture that essence in a photo?

So today I have two...one that expresses the spirit of an animal (and those of us who love him) and one a little more tongue in cheek...

the guinny-dawg, enjoying some snow snarfing!

it was national margarita day, so of course i went to the tequila bar and had a lemon-thyme margarita. yum.

Day 9 of the Lent photo-a-day challenge

Evil

I struggled with the prompt today...while I may be prone to using the word "evil" to describe many things, the reality is that evil is a serious word. I found I wasn't willing to commit anything to the permanence of a photo labeled "evil." I can think of many things that are wrong or unjust, but evil? So today's photo is absent...because evil is really an absence, right? The absence of compassion, love, hope, light. Consider the space to be a reminder that evil is both insidious (hard to pin down) and impermanent.







Day 7 of the lent photo a day challenge.

Lenten Discipline

It's almost Lent again--a mere two days until Ash Wednesday means there's not much time to decide what kind of discipline you might want to undertake this Lent.
Assuming, that is, that you observe Lent and that you do so with a discipline.


We don't much like the word discipline, but it's so intertwined with "disciple" that it's hard to ignore the connections. And still the Protestant world has pretty successfully ignored them for a while now, because there is such anti-Catholic bias in so many of our Protestant churches. The idea of observing Lent with purple paraments and no alleluias is about as far as we are willing to go--personal discipline is much too Catholic (or too demanding?).

Where Protestants have observed Lent with personal disciplines, we are fond of the "take something on" approach. I have actually heard people say "We're not Catholic--we don't give things up for Lent." As if personal sacrifice or fasting were the sole province of the Pope (who, according to twitter, trumps us all with what he's giving up for Lent...haha).

I'm a fan of taking on new practices--such a fan that I co-authored a book about it, in fact. But I'm also not willing to let go of the idea of giving up, of fasting. In a world that is SO focused on consuming, on being consumers, on having and doing the most, why do we insist that the only way to be faithful is to DO more? Why can't we practice the discipline of letting something go, and when we want that thing, focusing on our real hunger?

I'm not suggesting we give up chocolate or caffeine for Lent. Though I have done those things, and let me tell you they did not improve the spiritual lives of those around me, let alone my own.

I AM suggesting that we re-evaluate why we are so loathe to give something up. Is it really because that discipline belongs solely to another religious tradition? Or because we're not willing to do it, and we've "spiritualized" the reasoning?

in my case, it actually means NOT eating fast food!

For the past several years I have given up eating out during Lent. It's been partly about using the season to be more aware of what I put into my body and when, and partly about sacrificing something that I both enjoy and is convenient, and partly about noticing how much more money I spend when I eat out. Eating only food I make at home forces me to pay attention, to prepare ahead of time, and to limit how much I work (Can't spend all day and night in the office with only a quick run to taco bell...have to get out at some point, or have to have made lunch and dinner and brought them with me...). It's a nice multi-faceted practice, combining awareness with simplicity with justice with sabbath, that I've tried with varying degrees of success. What has not varied is the response I've gotten from fellow Presbtyerians, who universally disdain the idea of giving something up for Lent. Because the most helpful thing to do with a companion on the spiritual journey is to mock their attempts at discipline. (or to snark about them later, I know!)

So, maybe you don't want to give something up. Maybe it really is more meaningful for you to take something on. I would just encourage all of us to consider why it is we have such a visceral reaction to the idea of a fasting practice...why must we DO more? After all, it's not as if we believe we have to earn God's favor (which, strangely, many Catholics do actually believe, and yet...). What if Lent really was a time for introspection and repentance about our consumer culture? Our reactionary feelings against our brothers and sisters in Christ? What if it really was a time to go against the grain of our social system in order to draw closer to God?

If you do decide to go for a new discipline, I suggest letting something go as well. Sort of a two-sided coin--rather than filling up MORE, make a trade-off. Perhaps take a page from Isaiah 58 (which we read at the beginning of the Ash Wednesday service) and go for a justice-oriented in our fast. Try spending 40 days eating like most of the world, or living on $2 a day, and doing some good works with the money we save. Then we both take on and give up, as well as joining our bodies along with our hearts in prayer for others.

Now, having said all that, here are two possibilities for those of you who do want to take on a new practice: one with words, and one with images. Or here's one that's different every day. Try it out. I will. But you also won't find me at a restaurant during Lent (hopefully...), because I'll be praying in the kitchen and the grocery store instead.
(aside: no year has seen a perfect no-restaurant record during Lent. Sometimes things happen. But that doesn't mean I don't keep trying.)

slightly weird pastor moments

As if the whole church thing were not weird enough, we use some really strange language.

I know I'm not an outsider anymore, but there are times when I still feel like one. And one of those times is when we use weird terms to describe things. Not like theological language, which is already bizarre in its way but has its uses just like any other insider language (educators have one, computer people have one, journalism has one, medicine has one, etc). Not even hipster language--like when everything is authentic and intentional and relational and relevant, or whatever. But flat out weird institutional language.

Like when a new pastor is called (not hired), they are installed (they don't just start work until they get properly...well, all the metaphors I can think of sound dirty--ie, what we do with lightbulbs, appliances, software...). When they leave their relationships are dissolved (which I suppose is the slightly softer way of saying "cut off"). And we're now called Teaching Elders, not simply pastors or ministers (though for the record, "minister" was a seriously problematic term when it comes to thinking about the priesthood of all believers anyway).

(yes, I know that no one outside the church knows what the priesthood of all believers is. Maybe that'll be a future post.)

Sometimes the language is problematic--for instance: yes, we are are "called" to a particular position. But that "call" is also a "job" and not just in the sense that we need a way to talk about what we do all day to people who don't get it. Because we're Called whether or not we have a job, inside or outside the church. Sometimes when we are between jobs, or looking for a new job, or uncertain about various aspects of our jobs, that language confusion makes it feel like our call is in question, when in fact it's not. It may be in transition, but our call exists whether or not we have a call. See the problem?

All this stuff is relevant to me right now because this Sunday I'll be installed as the Pastor/Head of Staff at my new call (aka job). While I'd like to think that isn't really about screwing me in so I can light up the room, some people might think that's what the pastor's job is--to be twisted around until she can shine the light for everyone else. Others might think the pastor's job is to work for them like any other appliance they fit into its slot in the kitchen or utility room and plug in/hook up.

No metaphor is perfect--and those are so far off base as to be painful, though many may hold them anyway--but perhaps the software installation is as close as we get to this weird use of language in the church. When you install software on your computer (at least in my extremely basic understanding), it's purpose is to help you do what you need to do. Microsoft Word isn't an end in itself, and it doesn't do anything by itself (we hope)--it gives you the tools you need to communicate. That's kind of what a pastor is for. Our job is to equip the saints for ministry. Not to do everything, or to be the light ourselves, but to give people the tools to follow their call in the world and as a church.

As for the dissolution thing--well, the word is weird but I will say that it captures the feeling.

So: this Sunday, 10am, at the Presbyterian Church of Palatine, we will gather to celebrate that I'm joining in the work of this community, finding new ways to equip the saints for faithful 21st century lives. We will wear red stoles, a reminder that the Holy Spirit is a party to the call, so it is more than just being hired for a job. Come on over--if nothing else, it'll be a blast!


(totally off-topic: this is my 1500th post on this blog! It's been a wild 11 years to come up with 1500 things to say...)

a life for a life

This week the death penalty was abolished in Illinois. I am unspeakably proud of the legislature and governor for taking this step, and yet I find that I'm almost unable to write anything about it.

All the news coverage I have heard has been interviews with people who disagree with this decision, and I find the things they say so horrifying I don't know what to do other than to turn off the radio or the computer and sit in the silence instead.

Now, I've never been the victim/survivor of a crime for which someone could conceivably receive the death penalty. I don't pretend to know what those people are feeling. I would like to think that the values I hold would hold up under those circumstances, but I also know that you can't know that until they're tested (and, frankly, I'm a big wuss and don't want to be tested in that way!).

But still.

I heard a woman say that since she was robbed of seeing her loved one grow old, another family should also be robbed of that privilege. That's not what she said, but it's how she framed it: "I don't get to see him grow old, so this other man should die." Which means another family grieves, and the cycle of violence and grief and anger continues, with healing for no one.

I heard a lawyer say that now we will have more trials because they won't be able to use the person's life as a bargaining chip to get them to agree to plead guilty, thus avoiding a trial by a jury of their peers. All I could think was "please tell me we have not been using someone's LIFE/DEATH as a carrot/stick to get them to give up their constitutional right to a jury trial.....oh lord, I think that's what he's saying."

I heard law enforcement officials insisting (even when confronted with statistics that give the lie to their assertions) that the death penalty is a strong deterrent to crime and now there will be more crime.

And that was all in less than 10 minutes yesterday. If there were interviews with people who support the decision, I didn't hear them because I had to turn off the news.

It turns my stomach and makes all sound an assault on my ears and brain to hear these things. I can't imagine saying them out loud and I don't know in what world they are okay. I don't even know what to say. I want to start a sentence with "as a person of faith..." but I'm not sure what the next words in that sentence would be. All I can do right now is pray for people and for our systems, and maybe even for the english language because all the words I want to use (justice, mercy, grace, peace, repentance, forgiveness, punishment, etc) have been co-opted in ways that make them almost impossible to use in a theological sense in this context. Which makes me even more sad and speechless, even as I celebrate a decision that I believe to be in the best interests of the state, of justice, of humanity, and of faithfulness.

Sigh.

Not Deathly Ill

There are waves in the PCUSA right now about a letter that came out from a bunch of men who pastor big churches. When the biggest uproar was about how no women or elders had signed the letter, they issued a follow up clarification letter, as well as adding a zillion new signers practically overnight. The letter claims that the PCUSA is deathly ill and that the main cause of this illness is the fight for (and now trend toward) inclusion. They name the LGBT "issue" as the primary symptom of our illness, as well as including a list of other fun things like "creeping universalism" (which is just fun to say and to picture). The bottom line is that the denomination is getting smaller and we have to stop it ASAP before we fade away into irrelevance or just...well...fade away. They lament the lack of young people, the disproportionate funeral-to-infant-baptism ratio, and (I think) a lack of passion for mission and evangelism. They believe these problems to be the result of lax theological standards and loose morals, and somehow both the cause and the effect of institutional decline.

There have already been a number of fantastic replies to these letters. There have also been defensive replies to the replies. There is a vibrant, if sometimes heated, discussion going on in the church. There is frustration, disappointment, and even anger all around, as well as love and hope and fear and joy and wonder. Some feel the initial letter was condescending, some feel the replies are hateful, and in general everyone is focusing once again on, in my opinion, the wrong thing.

Yes, the PCUSA is getting smaller. Yes, most mainline denominations are getting smaller. And, in fact, most megachurches are even getting smaller.

I do not believe that to be a symptom of deathly illness.

I believe this is a symptom of our culture's move away from institutions. I also believe, along with those who write about generational theory, that this anti-institutional fervor is likely to change in the next 25-50 years as Millennials take the stage with their communitarian and institution-building and institution-trusting tendencies.

More important than the generational theory (and I think it is CRUCIAL, frankly, but few are likely to listen to me about it....go read the book), though, is the fact that we may finally be in a position to stop believing that the institution, the building, the Sunday attendance, is the church. The church is not a building, is not a theological system or a moral code, is not a set of rules, is not a denomination, is not a fight over "issues," is not even a book of order. The church is the people of God, working with God, doing God's work in the world. and in that sense, the church is nowhere near death. In fact, it's quite presumptuous and extremely condescending to declare the church deathly ill when the people of God are working with God all over the place. The fact that they are not joining the PCUSA or any other denomination is not the point (and attendance trends often seem to suggest that people attend but don't join). The fact that the birth rate in the US has dropped, particularly among the educated white families that the PCUSA tends to attract, is not the point. The fact that Millennials are not flocking to church (gee, do/did their parents?) is not the point. In other words--the writers of this letter have missed the point. By a lot. The point is: the people of God are out there doing God's work all over the place. People are feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, loving the unloveable, connecting with the image of God in every person, caring for God's creation, loving their neighbors and their enemies, sharing their resources, shining a light, bringing a little joy, offering grace...they are studying, teaching, learning...they are worshipping, gathering, fellowshipping...and it may not be happening in a church building, but it sure as hell is the church. And the church is not deathly ill.

In fact, it is more obvious than ever that the church is alive. The institution may not live in the halls of power, the big-steeple pastors may not have the influence they once had, the culture may not care what we as a whole have to say...but those things aren't what Jesus did anyway, and the early church didn't have any of those things and yet thrived anyway.

So I would argue that the way these letter writers have framed the issue, viewed through my biblical, theological, socio-economic, political, and generational framework: the church has indeed been ill. For the past 60 years (or more, if you head all the way back to Constantine), we have gorged ourselves on power and influence and numbers and programs and attractionalism and big buildings/salaries/pensions and assumptions. Those things crippled our ability to be the people of God working with God to do God's work in the world--to transform the world into the kingdom. And now we are beginning to get well. But like any healing process, some parts are painful.

I can't be the first to have thought this...

Have you ever wondered if the church IS the "second coming"?

The Body of Christ, sent out into the world to help usher in the kingdom of God?

Empowered by the Holy Spirit, the very breath of God that animates all things?

So Pentecost is the beginning of this "coming again"...and we're still busy looking into the sky like on Ascension Day rather than seeing Christ all around us?

No way am I the first person to have this thought. I might be the first to say it out loud and not get burned at the stake (so far), but...

It's kind of interesting to think about, don't you think?

(that's all the thoughts I have about it right now, because I don't have time or energy to actually pursue the line of thought to any deeper place until life in our community slows down just a tad...)

for your reading pleasure...

...this is one of the best posts in my long Google Reader list of posts made since I went offline yesterday. It's thought provoking and yummy looking all at the same time!

Okay, I'm going offline again so i can go enjoy the Maine sunshine! ta!

what if there is no problem of evil?

That's what I'm left with after tonight's adult ed class.  We are in the midst of a 101 series, currently in Theology 101.  and in discussing the classic theodicy problem (if God is both all-good/loving and all-powerful, how is there evil?) I discovered that the people in my class consider "evil" to mean "evil intentions behind the action" and therefore the vast majority of bad things that happen aren't evil.  Even when I changed language to "bad things" it didn't help...natural disasters were first off the list, then illnesses too, and then there was discussion of how extreme poverty/starvation/etc is our responsibility to take care of so why don't we do that, and then you're just left with the category I called "mean people."  and then there was free will.  So it looks like there is no problem of evil.  I offered them the classic solutions, but it doesn't matter because they don't seem to believe that God is so intimately involved in ordering things that happen to *them*...instead they are trying to focus on the big-picture "all will be well" sort of deal.  So love and power are not incompatible with the relatively small picture stuff, and even the bigger stuff isn't technically evil.  That's what I walked away from the class with.

What's interesting is that I WANTED to talk about predestination tonight, and leave theodicy for another time.  alas, no.  so now i'm pushing into a third week of theology 101 and leaving spirituality 101 (which I'm calling "how we relate to God" since the theology stuff is a lot about who God is and what God is like and what God has to do with us) for the 4th week.  (sigh)  so tonight:  attributes of God (which I should have known was going to get me to theodicy since "in control?" came up in both "God is" and "God is not" columns...), theodicy, sin, and the beginnings of atonement.  Next week:  finishing up atonement/reconciliation, justification/sanctification, predestination, and heaven/hell.  I can do that in an hour, right?  ;-)

an interesting conversation during the attributes of God section:  does God hate?  if God is love, and most human hate is grounded in fear, and perfect love casts out fear, is it possible for God to hate?  interesting thinking...