The same can happen for us as a congregation. It’s perilously simple to fall into survival mode: planning and conducting weekly worship services, managing the business of the church, resolving minor crises, answering phones and writing emails. I’ve struggled to regain my focus lately, both personally and for the church, which is why I was so grateful to read an article by a friend of mine in Christianity Today called, “Why You Should Eavesdrop on Your Neighbors” (you can find it linked on my blog, www.ryanjbell.net).

Inspired by a radio program, missionary kid Apricot Anderson Irving worked with elementary school children in her neighborhood to create the Boise Voices Oral History Project. Children interview the elders in the community, asking them questions like, “Did you ever feel sad or lonely?” and “How would you like to be remembered?” to “What was it like for you during the civil rights movement?” and “Can you describe your mother in her favorite dress?”

Here is an excerpt:

Apricot said she was struck by the fact that so many of the elders had experienced profound indignity and yet refused to carry resentment.

“The stories they shared were truthful, but they were not bitter. I suspect it was because they were telling the stories to kids,” Apricot says. “When we tell stories to children, we want to preserve a grain of hope. It was as if the elders said, ‘Here is my story. It hurt me when it happened. But it doesn’t have to hurt you too. You will have enough pain of your own to carry, but I want you to understand that it is possible to go through something very difficult without letting it destroy you.’”

Reading this reminded me of the important way this congregation began its missional renewal almost seven years ago—by listening. Under the leadership of Brian Lauritzen, we even started a podcast called Concrete Voices, which at its heart is about curating the stories of our neighborhood.

If there’s anything I would like our congregation to get back to, it’s this. If we stop listening to each other we will turn to our own wants and needs, our worst consumeristic impulses will emerge and our congregation will become something we never intended for it to be.

—RYAN

What we’ve discovered so far is that the Bible writers are not what we would call “systematic theologians.” That is, they didn’t set about to write clear, organized answers to 21^st century questions. In fact, when the Bible writers talk about the death and resurrection of Jesus and what it means they mix metaphors. (Apparently their grade school teachers never told them not to do this!)

We’ve considered two of the primary models, or theories, of the atonement. The penal substitutional theory emphasizes the importance of Jesus’ death. Jesus died in our place to pay the price for our sins, satisfying God’s justice. The wages of sin is death and someone had to pay those wages. God pays this price by giving his own son.

The moral influence theory emphasizes Jesus’ life. Jesus came to live as an example for us to follow. His death—laying down his life for his friends—expressed the greatest love anyone can have for another person. This example, and the testimony it bears to God’s undying love, wins people over or, as John says, “draws all people to himself.” It is this drawing power of God’s love, revealed in Jesus, that drives this theory.

Today we will consider another theory. Together we are assembling a picture that attempts to describe something that remains a mystery. The death and resurrection of Jesus for the sins of the world is a unique, unrepeatable event and therefore we don’t have language to perfectly explain it. Our attempts are only that: attempts. But this is the central act in the Christian drama so our efforts are worth it.

—RYAN

What do we mean by “Land of Opportunity?” This is how I expressed it yesterday: we should think of our state as a single human family. (The same could be said, of course, for the United States and the entire world). From a Christian perspective, we are one family because each of us has been created by God in the image of God. This means that we are connected to each other or, as the Apostle Paul puts it, we belong to one other. This belonging, and the actions that support such belonging, make up a healthy community.

In modern times we have lost this sense of community—this sense that our destinies are fundamentally connected to one another. Certain members of our family—entire segments, in fact—have been hurting and been left behind while other parts of our family have prospered. What would you do if you had two children: one of them had every opportunity to thrive and the other was blocked at every turn? Wouldn’t you fight for your child who was being left behind?

The phrase “Land of Opportunity” expresses our deeply-held belief that each person, created in the image of God, deserves the same opportunity to live and thrive. The reality is, this is not the case. Children are born into poverty where good education and health care are not available. There are more black men in prison than in college in California. This development reflects our State’s investment in prisons and de-investment in schools, especially in historically black and Latino communities.

One of the key initiatives PICO California is working on in relationship with Governor Brown is the compromise tax revenue initiative that will raise 9 billion dollars over the next several years to balance the budget and restore needed services. This new initiative will require those who have been blessed with more to pay more. I want to invite you to sign a petition to put this initiative on the ballot in November. The petition and all the information about it will be in the lobby after church today. Please feel free to ask me any questions you may have about this. Thank you for exercising your religious and civic voice on behalf of those who are left behind in our California family.

—RYAN

The ability to stand back and calmly observe our inner dramas, without rushing to judgment, is foundational for spiritual seeing. It is the primary form of “dying to the self” that Jesus lived personally and the Buddha taught experientially. The growing consensus is that, whatever you call it, such calm, egoless seeing is invariably characteristic of people at the highest levels of doing and loving in all cultures and religions. They are the ones we call sages or wise women or holy men.

So says Richard Rohr in his recent book, The Naked Now. As I read this statement this week a deep longing arose in me—a longing to be less controlled by my ego and my insecurities and more able to see myself as I really am. Rohr calls this “spiritual seeing.”

As we spend time over the next few weeks talking about theories of the atonement (different metaphors for what the death and resurrection of Jesus accomplished for us and for God’s creation) I would not want us to lose sight of the experiential meaning of the cross for our personal and communal spiritual growth.