Taylor Swift: The Next Great Theologian?

At the Taylor Swift "Red" Tour. 

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I love Taylor Swift.  Like, a lot.  And most of you also know that I love Theology.

Today I am happy to bring these two world together.  Over at Millennial Journal, I take on the issue of Taylor Swift and liturgical theology in my essay Taylor Swift: The Next Great Theologian?  Check it out.

The Feast of the Transfiguration

Today marks the Feast of the Transfiguration.  This passage from the Gospels is one of my all-time favorites.  As someone who ministers in educational settings, each year I am hit with 1/4 of the community leaving with everyone saying, "Can't we just stay here, just like this, for forever?"  My response to this is to pray with the Transfiguration.Here is a portion of a Gospel Reflection I offered at the end of the school year at a high school.  Note:  the school was on a hill, hence the references to "on the hill"


So here, we have Peter, James and John on a mountain with Jesus.  And they have a beyond incredible experience!  I mean, Jesus is transfigured.  He turns white, there are bright lights everywhere, and then from a cloud comes the voice of God.  Talk about a great experience.

Peter then begs Jesus to let them stay on the mountain. I have to say, I totally identify with Peter in this moment.  Here they are, on this beautiful hill, having a wonderful experience, and then it has to end.  

Haven't many of us felt this way about leaving this hill?  Right when it is getting really good, when we have it all figured out and are enjoying ourselves, Jesus tells us it is time to leave.

But looking at it this way is missing the point. The whole purpose of the transfiguration is not what happens on the hill---- it's what happens after the experience on the hill.         

The whole purpose of this high school isn't what happens on this hill.  It's what happens after the experience on the hill.

Isn't that what faith, integrity and truth are all about? These aren't values that matter only on the hill. In fact, they are values that matter the most once we leave this hill. 

What happened to the disciples in the transfiguration was transformative.  This year has been transformative for me.  I imagine it’s been transformative for many of you too. 

Jesus calls us to look at what this transformation means for us. Seniors, now that you are leaving, what does living a life of faith, integrity and truth mean for you?  How will you allow yourself to be shaped by the friendships with your classmates?  How will you continue to see God around you once you leave the hill?  This is the true question of the transfiguration.         
           How will you continue to see God around you?

And this message doesn't just apply to the seniors.  It applies to all of us--- how will we as the FSHA community continue to see God around us?  
How will we continue to experience God? 
How will we continue to be a community that is FIT--- a community of faith, integrity and truth? 
The good news is that there are endless replies to this question.

We all have this community to support us, a community that continues to show us God’s love.

 This community will continue to love and support all of us as we respond to Jesus’ call and journey down the hill. We’ve all been transformed while at this school.  The question that lies before us today is what we will do with this transformation.

Liturgy on Fire- Literally

Earlier this week, I preached at Lucernarium*, a night prayer liturgy.  Joining this liturgy in this capacity is always an honor.  The liturgy is planned by students, yet it is also led by students in the role of the presider and cantor.

This particular service was one that by all external measures went awry, but from my perspective, was pretty incredible.

For starters, I was
incredibly frazzled.  To say that my day was crazy was a huge understatement.  Easily one of my Top 10 hardest days ever.  I arrived much later than I would have liked, and definitely not in the mindset that I would like.

Still, we began the liturgy with a sense of peace.  The cantor, presider and myself lit our candles and began the prayer service.  In the middle of the responsorial psalm, I smelt burning.  A lot of burning.  Not just a little spark, but something was on fire.  I looked next to me and the paper wax catcher was on fire.  Not just a little fire, but really, the whole thing was consumed.

As my liturgy training has engrained in me, we addressed the issue (my pet peeve is when people pretend something didn't happen, when it obviously did), the Rector assisted by grabbing the candle and taking it to the sacristy.  I tried to step on the smoldering paper on the floor of the chapel, praying that my TOMS did not catch fire as well.  We appeared to be in the clear.

Then the lector got up to read the first reading, on which I had prepared my sermon: Isaiah 7. This was the Solemnity of the Annunciation and I was ready to relate Isaiah, Mary and the students' lives.  Only the lector did not read this reading (it was set to the daily reading, not the Solemnity).  My internal monologue went something like this:

Um, this is the Acts of the Apostles, not Isaiah.  My entire reflection is on Isaiah.  ENTIRE.  It's ok, I'll just preach on the Acts instead.  But I don't know what this reading is about.  I need to listen.  OH NO. I keep freaking out instead of listening.  Listen, Annie, listen.  AHHHH.  THE READING IS OVER.  I'm up NOW.

So, for the first time in my life, I preached off-script.

I am typically quite attached to my paper when I preach.  I tend to be an external processor, which is not a good trait of a preacher, so I tend to stick to the script pretty strictly.  But here, I had no choice.  And honestly (and to no surprise to other preachers out there), I think what I said was much more suited to the community than my prepared remarks.  It was truly a sense of the Holy Spirit guiding me.

From an outsiders point of view, this liturgy was probably a bit of a mess.  But from the inside, it was an incredible experience of people gathering together, somewhat clumsily, to worship God together.  And isn't that what liturgy is all about?  The work of the people, when done authentically, has an inherent element of clumsiness.  We didn't let the desire for perfection overpower what we were there for: praising God as a community.

*If you want a sense of Lucernarium, I recommend this video of Luce at Moreau Seminary.

Insights on Freedom: Flannery O'Connor

One of the recurring themes of the negative comments on my Washington Post op-ed are that I am a relativist, which in reality, could not be farther from the truth.  However, I think one of the most obnoxious things in blogs is when the writer defends himself against anonymous critics.  Instead, I thought the words of Flannery O'Connor shed some insight on the situation.

"Even in the life of a Christian, faith rises and falls like the tides of an invisible sea. It's there, even when you can't see it or feel it, if you want it to be there. You realize, I think, that it is more valuable, more mysterious, altogether more immense than anything you can learn or decide upon in college. Learn what you can and cultivate Christian skepticism. It will keep you free - not free to do anything you please, but free to be formed by something larger than your own intellect."
-Flannery O'Connor, writing to a college student.

Has Hell Frozen Over?

US Catholic recently did a cover story on Hell.  It used to be something present at all times in people's minds--- now it is barely present.  What gives?  Peter Nixon dove into this topic, looking at it from a variety of angles.  I was honored to be his "young" angle, offering insight on what I noticed when working at a high school and what I observe currently with college aged students.  The entire article can be found here.  


Some highlights of the story:  

Annie Selak, a rector at the University of Notre Dame, sees a similar dynamic at work among a younger generation. “I would say that most of the high school and college students I’ve encountered rarely think of hell. The vast majority assume they are going to heaven. It seems like an automatic for them. They are good people, so of course they will end up in heaven.”

Some recent polling also bears out this change. The Pew Center on Religion and Public Life’s 2007 Religious Landscape Survey found that only 60 percent of Catholics believe in hell. While comparable to mainline Protestants (56 percent), that’s far below the 82 percent recorded by evangelical Protestant churches.

And later on:

As for the younger generation of Catholics, Annie Selak is not convinced that a renewed emphasis on hell is what they need. “There is so much pressure on these kids to live up to the expectations of their parents, administrators, older siblings, high school teachers, and principals. The pressure is astounding! I think the move away from the fear of disappointing God and ending up in hell with one bad decision allows them to have a healthier relationship with their faith.”

To be clear, I am not advocating for a therapeutic deism--- a sense where God is strictly our cheerleader and there just to make us feel good.  There are struggles in any healthy relationship, even with God.  My observation is that a fire and brimstone approach drives a wedge between college students and God.  I'm all about a healthy relationship, not an easy relationship.  My question is how we get there?