To tattoo or not to? That is the question. At least it is for many folks these days. Some estimate that approaching 40% of people under 40 have tattoos. While I don’t have one, many of my friends do — of crosses, words (in English, Hebrew, and Greek), Bible verses, logos. In fact, I almost feel left out. So, a few months back I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to write the study, “Tattoos. A Good Idea?” for The Thoughtful Christian. It’s recently out and available for download. Here’s a few reflections on the project.

First, I did some research via social media and as to why folks got their tattoos, and what significance they have. That blog post is here and still remains active. Overall, I was struck by the wide range of responses. For some people, their tattoo really helped their faith and even strengthened their discipleship. For others — even someone who got a celtic cross tattoo — it was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing.

Second, though it’s often said by some Christians that tattoos are bad or un-Christian, it’s difficult to make a direct Biblical argument for this. While Leviticus 19:28 includes a prohibition on tattoos, the prior two verses make the old-school purity code seem awfully odd (I have “rounded off the edge of my beard” (v. 27) many times without, in my view, offending God). Also, while 1 Corinthians 6:19 is often cited when it comes to purity of body — “your body is a temple of the holy spirit” — the context is actually Paul speaking not of an individual but of the whole community. So he’s saying, “you all together — your corporate body is a temple together” which makes tattoos on individuals sort of beside the point.

Third, I have to admit to before researching for this study I thought of tattoos as a modern phenomenon. I was way wrong. Tattoos have been around for thousands of years and are present in cultures all around the world. Perhaps tattoos are gaining popularity in the 2010s as opposed to the 1980s, but they’re by no means a new trend.

Fourth, like sex and a few other off-limits social issues, I feel the church really does a disservice to its members if it doesn’t have forums to discuss contemporary issues like the growing prominence of tattoos. As I say in the study,

The church does not operate in a vacuum, so it is not immune from tattoos’ popularity. Many pastors have tattoos themselves, and tattoos are found on the bodies of many congregation members—some you might know about, and some that might surprise you. (For a little experiment, ask the pastor of your congregation to mention tattoos in a sermon. It’s amazing how many members shaking hands with the pastor at the door after worship will discuss—or even show—their own tattoos!)Tattoos, perhaps once seen as something unfit or unmentionable for church folk, are now fairly common and gaining acceptance.

It’s important that the church model healthy ways of reflection and dialogue about tattoos and other issues of cultural import.

Finally, it was interesting to reflect how I might have written this study differently were it for an adult group as opposed to youth. To be honest, I imagined youth to be more open-minded and willing to discuss other points of view than an adult group might be. If my imaginings were accurate, what does this say about adults who attend church and their willingness to consider differences both moral and aesthetic?

So, I hope you’ll check out the study. As I wrote, it’s designed to have youth explore questions from many sides and think of different perspectives so that they can discern how God is leading them, not simply say tattoos are good or bad, right or wrong. As the study shows, tattoos are not a black-and-white issues (and not just because they come in color too).

Originally posted at Gathering Voices: Faith Conversations from TheThoughtfulChristian.com

In 1968, international chess champion David Levy bet that no computer could beat him in the next ten years. Levy won the bet in 1978 prevailing against the most powerful computer at the time. Afterwards, Levy said it’d only be a matter of time until the computers were winning.

Move over chess.

To much fanfare, a computer named Watson won a Jeopardy! tournament last week, beating the two winningest Jeopardy! players of all time. One of those players, Ken Jennings, underneath his response in the final Jeopardy round quoted from an episode of The Simpsons, “I, for one, welcome our new computer overlords.”

You might be thinking, “oh, hey, big deal. Watson took up an entire room and was programmed to play one meaningless game show.” And, sure, that’s a fair point. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it had I not read Lev Grossman’s stunning TIME article, “2045: The Year Man Becomes Immortal.” Among other things, Grossman describes the Singularity movement which addresses augmenting our bodies and minds with technology.

Raymond Kurzweil, a leading Singularitian, argues that genetics, nanotechnology, and robotics (artificial intelligence) are progressing at a rate so that a) in 2020 personal computers will have the same processing power as the human brian, b) in the 2030s human mind uploading will become possible, c) in 2045 The Singularity occurs and artificial intelligences will surpass human beings as the smartest and most capable life forms on the earth.

It’d be more comfortable to call this all poppycock and go on our merry way. But, even my beloved NPR last week reported that radiologists may soon be out of their jobs  — turns out computer image reading technology is progressing pretty fast these days, and machines don’t need pension or health insurance benefits.

But before I jump back under the covers and wish these scientific breakthroughs away, I can consider our congregation and see members living many happy years due to portable oxygen tanks, or thanks to major surgery, or after surviving cancer that a generation ago likely would have killed them. One could actually argue that, since a transplant patient takes daily drugs to avoid rejection, this person is already dependent on modern technology to survive. This person is already “post-human.”

I don’t have any profound theological insight here, but I do wonder about this: I know God can handle these changes, but can we? Can the Church? Can I?

The providence of God and the Lordship of Jesus Christ will continue no matter what becomes of nanotechnology. Even if we finally develop a computer that looks, talks, and acts like humans, God will still be God. I trust that God will surely figure out the best way to deal with a person, say, whose brain has been transplanted into a robot (I’m guessing grace will have its part). But, partly due to the fact I seem to have few theological resources with which to approach artificial intelligence, I’m concerned as to whether the church is equipping its members to deal with such questions. What’s an appropriate Biblical hermeneutic when studying questions like, “If we have the scientific knowhow to transplant someone’s brain into a machine and keep that person’s memories and thoughts intact, should we?”

Did I miss a course in seminary? Did we cover whether they’ll be intelligent robots in the final Kingdom of God? Did Jesus die for them too?

image by Iva Villi

Additional Resources from www.TheThoughtfulChristian.com

• A New Church for a New World, By John M. Buchanan
• “Assisted Reproductive Technologies,” By Kate Ott (Adult Study)

As the new Republican leadership elects to read the entire U.S. Constitution today on the floor of the House of Representatives (and as Representatives run in and out for their photo op/sound byte/future election ad clips) I wonder if the tacit message by the underwhelming Democrat response is similar to the sad progressive Christian response to Biblical literalism.

In “Read It and Weep: How the Tea Party’s fetish for the Constitution as written may get it in trouble” on Slate.com this week, Dahlia Litwick argues,

This newfound attention to the relationship between Congress and the Constitution is thrilling and long overdue….This is an opportunity to engage in a reasoned discussion of what the Constitution does and does not do.

If only. “Reasoned discussion” is not the stuff of Washington these days. Litwick goes on to point out what she sees are the multiple contradictions of the Tea Party platform and a thorough reading of the Constitution. It’s a nice little article, but I’m still not expecting many minds to change after today’s reading.

But here’s what I’d hope to see today: Democrats loudly decrying the use of the Constitution as a political wedge rather than the common document that we all hold dear; Democratic legislators refusing to leave the House chamber for the entire reading of the Constitution; President Obama announcing a series of Constitution-related study events in early 2011; Democrats noting that all the legislators of all parties swore an oath, just yesterday, to uphold and defend the Constitution.

In any case, dear Democrats, please don’t make my friend argue, not unlike progressive Christians and their approach to the Bible, Democrats ceded the Constitution ground without a fight.

Yesterday, a Sunday morning Twitter exchange with a few pastors got me thinking about my children’s sermon approach, and how it differs from many of my colleagues. For example, when I saw this site and the idea of teaching about the bentover woman in Luke 13 with a bent spoon, I laughed out lout and closed my browser tab immediately.  Later, when I had time to reflect, I found some redeeming qualities to the suggestion, but the bent spoon as an object lesson still puts me off (as if osteoporosis is anything like a bad ice cream scoop — that’s insulting both to our adults with bad backs and to our children’s intelligence!).  So, here’s a few of my children’s sermons DOs and Don’ts:

DO:

• My main resource is usually the Bible, usually a story (I say more here ). I don’t tend to tell moralistic stories from life – there’s plenty of time for those outside of worship.  Non narrative scripture lessons can work too, but narrative is probably better.
• Teach about worship, liturgy, our worship space, traditions, etc. For example, our congregation often sings the psalm appointed for the day, but rarely did so before I was pastor. So, as we began this practice, the children and I talked about singing psalms, and where we could find them in the Bible.
• One point. One point. One point. I try to make one point and stick to it.
• I’ve found that hand motions and using our bodies together works very well – I thought a very effective children’s sermon took place when the reading was on a version of the Lord’s Prayer, so I taught hand motions to the prayer and everyone – children and older folks – prayed it together with the motions.

DON’T

• I don’t use myself as an example except to connect with the children (and not to connect or get a laugh from the non-children congregants).
• I don’t usually use an object in my children’s sermons. If I do, it’s often a picture and very tied to the point of the children’s sermon rather than a traditional “object lesson.” It’s not that I hate objects (though Calvin did call most of them “idols,”) rather what I understand about children’s learning development is that most of the kids who come up for our children’s sermon can’t yet make the intellectual leap from an object to a point loosely tied to the object — “This chocolate is sweet, just like God is sweet to us” or anything like that. If it doesn’t connect very clearly, I don’t use it.
• I don’t view the children’s sermon as entertainment for the congregation, so I don’t try to get the children to say funny things the congregation will enjoy; I keep open-ended questions to a minimum.  Besides missing the point of worship, laughing at the children makes them objects that entertain rather than fellow worshipers. Objectification in worship is never good.
• I don’t feel I must connect the children’s sermon point to the longer sermon later, or even use the same text. Sometimes a children’s sermon is a good way to teach a lectionary text not used otherwise.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. I’m certainly not a gifted children’s sermonizer, and I’m always looking to learn more. For example, last time I posted on children’s sermons, someone commented about a UMC church she knew where the children’s sermon happened on a special rug unrolled for the occasion, on which the kids and a pastor huddle. But that pastor doesn’t have a microphone, and another pastor with a microphone shares announcements from the pulpit while the children quietly huddle around the other pastor. Everyone worships, but the children aren’t made the center of it. Sounds heavenly to me.

image by Flavio Takemoto

The second reading from the Revised Common Lectionary (the Bible readings for worship used by churches around the world) for this Sunday comes from the book of Revelation. For a few weeks now, we’ve been working our way through Revelation and have now arrived at chapter 22. The assigned reading, though, is Rev. 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21. On first glance, it sure looks to me like we’re censoring the Bible.

The assigned reading picks the lovely-dovey smooth feeling sections of chapter 22, and skips of the darker passages.

Included in this Sunday’s passage:

See, I am coming soon; my reward is with me, to repay according to everyone’s work.   13  I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”   14 Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they will have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by the gates….And let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift….

Excluded from this Sunday’s passage:

Outside are the dogs and sorcerers and fornicators and murderers and idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices falsehood….I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: if anyone adds to them, God will add to that person the plagues described in this book; if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away that person’s share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book.

Yes, Revelation is a really difficult book and comes with a lot of cultural baggage. Yes, most people in mainline churches these days don’t know the Bible like they used to. Yes, it’s difficult to read passages like that in worship.

But, really, isn’t this censorship plain and simple? And isn’t it ironic we censor the exact verse that says, “ if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away that person’s share in the tree of life”? What are the implications here? Seems to me like we’re dumbing down worship, the faith, and the Bible for reasons of comfort and convenience.

Overall Notes and Helps:

• Main take away: If you suspect that someone is thinking of suicide, ASK. Don’t be afraid that your question will give the person the idea. Usually they are relieved to be asked.
• Don’t panic.
• Don’t promise anything that you do not want or cannot deliver.
• Prevent isolation.
• Follow-up is important. Call them back the next day, continue to helpthem workout some of the problems presented.
• Listen, listen, listen.

Clues to Suicidal Intention:

Verbal: “I just wanted to say goodbye.” “I’ve had it, I can’t stand it any more.” “I won’t be around much longer for you…”

Behavioral: The clearest behavioral clue is a “practice run” – a prior attempt of whatever seriousness. Putting affairs in order. Giving away prized possessions.

Situational: Just learned about a terminal diagnosis. Recent traumatic loss. Extreme pressure.

Syndromatic: Depressed. Disoriented. Defiant. Dependent-dissatisfied.
Role Play we did in class:
We then broke up into small groups and carried out a role play using a script about like this…

Helpee: Express pain and despair
Pastor: Mirror and probe
It sounds like you’re feeing very ___ lately
Does it every get so bad that you feel like hurting yourself?
Helpee: Acknowledge such feelings

Pastor: Validate and explore risk
I’m glad you feel you can share that with me.
Can you tell me more about those feelings/thoughts….Do you have a particular way in mind that you would do it?

P: Have you felt this way before?

P: How close are you, do you think, to carrying out a plan? Do you have the pills/gun/knife, etc?

P: Concern + we need to get support + contract
I’m very concerned about the pain you are in, and that you have a pretty firm idea about how you might end your life. It sounds like we need to get some support for you. I would like us to work together to find you the help that you need. I would really like you to make a promise/commitment to me that you won’t act on your plan to hurt yourself until we can get you connected with a good counselor today. Are you willing to do that?

P: I would like you to put that in writing for me. Here, would you write a promise on paper that you will not hurt yourself, and sign it, so we know this is a solemn promise?
So, Joe, that was our main takeaway and practice. Your original question wondered to what extend our response might be theological or biblical. Well, honestly, we discussed that very little. Basically, going down that road might be very dangerous and it sort of gets away from the issue at hand. That’s not to say there aren’t biblical/theological ideas that help with suicide considerers, but as lowly pastors with very basic pastoral care training, there’s definitely people more qualified to delve into such questions. We’re about connecting, and seeing the signals, and having that initial conversation with the contract.

Thoughts?

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, seek help now:  SAVE or the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

Megan’s internship church last year had weekly children’s sermons, and as she had very little discussion of such sermons in seminary, Megan asked me to ask youth and children ministry extra-ordinate Rodger Nishioka if he might suggest a book or two to help her preparation.

So one day before class, Rodger walked into our classroom to speak to a student. Getting his attention, I quickly explained Megan’s situation and asked if he might suggest a resource or two.

“Sure” he said, “Do you have a pen ready?”

“Got one” I said, happy to be helpful to Megan.

“Ok” Rodger said, “I know of a really great one that should be just what she needs. It’s a book called the Bible, that’s B-I-B-L-E.”

The whole class laughed out loud. And I realized I had walked straight into that one.

Rodger’s right. Children don’t need gimmicks or ridiculous moralistic stories only distantly related to the Bible. Sure, the stories from the Bible should be told in age-appropriate ways, but if the goal is entertainment, making the adults laugh, or singling out children for haze or praise (and…making the adults laugh) then we’ve taken our proverbial eye of the ball.

Call me crazy, but I think Rodger is on to something.

During a busy academic conference, I sit in on one of my favorite AAR groups, the Society for Scriptural Reasoning. The main idea of the group is that Jews, Christians, and Muslims gather together and read each other’s texts, having them interpreted for us by those who profess that faith’s text but open to the inquiries and thoughts of those from other faiths. It’s a provocative way to do inter-religious dialogue-a way that simultaneously honors the integrity of each tradition and opens the traditions to each other. Many of the folks in SSR are friends; a couple are mentors. And one of the great things about SSR is that it’s a chance to do some heavy intellectual lifting without quite as much self-promotion as you find in some other academic groups. Anyway, we’re sitting in small groups doing our thing when a Jewish friend makes a comment about a passage from 2 Timothy that we’ve been looking at. Pow! The text becomes scripture as my Bible surprises me. Next thing I know, I’m eye-deep in a fresh vision of the practicality of 2 Timothy 3:16.

I’m sitting in worship (which, between teaching in a seminary and having a wife who is a pastor, I tend to do a lot of), kind of half-attending to what’s going on (which I also tend to do a lot of for the same reasons) when something odd strikes me about the text, which is out of 1 Chronicles, of all places! Bam! A Bible-whack to the side of the head and a sudden stream-of-consciousness project forms in my mind about how I’ll teach an ethics class that next hour-and now I’ve got ½ hour to re-prepare the already nicely-prepared-but-clearly-no-longer-adequate class.

I’m reading one of my favorite theologians writing on one of his favorite topics when that theologian says something almost tangential to the topic. Whap! All of a sudden, I’ve got the last two verses of the last book of the Bible to deal with again-and the tension between an original ending that isn’t an ending (“Come, Lord Jesus!”) and a second ending that is one (“Amen.”) becomes a trope for investigating how Christians understand their place in time.

That’s more than enough. You get the picture: my Bible on a bungee and me with various bruises of the absolute best kind. And here are three observations about these contusion-causing events: First, and rather unsurprisingly, the farther I get from it, the more it shocks me when it comes whipping at me. Second, the more these Bible-slaps happen, the more provocative and illuminating their results. I’m always a slightly different (and hopefully richer) reader after such an event than I was before. And third, the most surprising things happen when I don’t enter the situation thinking I’m supposed to read the Bible in a certain way (devotionally, via historical-critical lenses, for pastoral care content, as an ethicist, etc.). So now I make fewer assumptions about how I’m supposed to read it or what its benefits will be. Which is, I suppose, the way a Christian opposition to works-righteousness applies to reading the Christian text. I imagine those three observations are related-and that they have to do with the always shocking quality of a revelation that is always about more than texts but never entirely disconnected from texts. And I guess that’s what you get when there’s a bungee on your Bible.

Mark Douglas is the Associate Professor of Christian Ethics at Columbia Theological Seminary. Mark’s interests include ethics in neo-orthodox theologies, medical and business ethics, the American philosophical tradition of pragmatism, and the role of religion in political philosophy. He’s also pretty good at frisbee golf. Mark co-edits an online journal for congregations on theology, church, and culture found called At This Point.

The Bible is a heavy book. Unless you carry a pocket-sized Bible (and have incredible vision), pretty much any Bible will be heavy-heavy to hold, heavy to carry, heavy so that it makes a satisfying thump when you set it on a desk. The Bible is so heavy that it must have tissue-thin pages in order to fit them all in without breaking human limbs. These tissue pages rattle loudly in a hushed sanctuary, especially to a restless child. How clearly I remember the cold seeping dread that suffused me each time my careless page-flipping tore one of those pages, just a little, near the spine.

When I think of the Bible, I imagine it as a weary book. Its weariness comes in part, of course, from its heaviness. A shelved Bible must support its whole weight on the bottom edges of its cover, hopefully one of the hardback variety. An opened Bible must support the weight of the reader’s prayers. I can imagine that the most terrified of Bibles are those that lie open on lecterns at the fronts of churches. What an immense weight-the collective pressure of an entire congregation listening, of that grouped dependence. Probably only the really big, ancient Bibles feel comfortable with that position, the ones illuminated by monks.

I imagine that Bibles are jealous of other books. The Bible has just as much beautiful imagery and just as many fascinating stories as a reasonable selection of classic fiction, but nobody ever just reads the Bible. They always read the Bible. It seems to me akin to how Ryan Giggs must feel* if he ever wants a pint: the people from whom he orders the pint will never think of him as just a bloke who wants a pint. He’s Ryan Giggs. I would think that might start to wear after a time.
But I do think the Bible must enjoy being analyzed, being pulled apart and interpreted and argued over. It just must be tickled to death to see students wound into a corner over what made Abraham a true believer, or over what indeed it was the St. Paul meant in this epistle as opposed to that other one. If Bibles ever rejoice, I imagine they do it when people look for more than the face value of their words, or when they remember that the Bible they’re reading might come in as many versions as there are scholars who translate it.

Heaviest of all to the Bible must be the knowledge of all the wars fought, all the evils done, all the crimes committed in its name. The Bible and the Koran must sit around commiserating with each other every so often, just to let each other know they’re not alone. After all, pretty much the worst that happens to other books is censorship or burning, not so much war.

But then, after all, pretty much the best that happens to other books is a brief rush of fame on the bestseller list-fleeting. But the Bible’s heavy weight inspires reverence, conversion, devotion, and simple kindness. I imagine the Bible might like that.

Elin Ljung is Communications Coordinator for the Mono Lake Committee in Lee Vining, California.

I Am Not Ashamed of the Gospel: The Bible in Progressive Congregations
by Christopher Henry

I love the New Testament. I have been captivated by the letters of Paul since the first day of my “Life and Letters of the Apostle Paul” class in college, when E.P. Sanders painted a verbal picture of the religious landscape of the Roman Empire in the First Century and then described the unlikely, revolutionary preaching ministry of Paul in that context. In the Introduction to Preaching class at Columbia Seminary, I was moved by Charles Campbell’s depiction of Paul’s conversion from an imagined ministry of violent persecution to a ministry of preaching the gospel in difficult circumstances. Because I love Paul, and because I believe in the power of the words of scripture not only to nourish but also to create communities of faith, I am deeply concerned about the role of the Bible in progressive congregations.

In my denomination, the scriptures of the Old and New Testament are described as the “unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal.” That is, the Bible is the place where we turn to remind ourselves what is at the heart of our worship, ministry, and life together. This also means that the Bible does not belong to one subset within our denomination nor to one denomination alone. These two affirmations are, in my opinion, central to recovering the power of scripture in progressive congregations.

The Bible is not a book full of answers for common modern day questions, no matter how many New York Times bestsellers claim that this is true. The Bible, for Christians, is not merely a collection of semi-historical narratives and moral stories. Progressive Christians can offer an alternative voice to these two extremes. We who believe that the Bible is neither an answer book nor a history book have a role to play in the conversation. But we must be prepared to converse. We must not abdicate Biblical literacy to Biblical literalists. We must read the words of scripture, study them, pray them, discuss them, and apply them. We must take seriously our questions of the texts but also the questions that the texts ask of us.

If there is to be a serious dialogue between conservative and progressive Christians about the significant moral issues of our time (whatever they may be) the only appropriate venue for such a conversation is the Bible. It is my sincere hope that our progressive congregations will be adequately equipped to speak with confidence and faith, standing firmly on the Word of God and unashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Christopher A. Henry is Associate Pastor of Morningside Presbyterian Church in Atlanta, GA.