Who is Communion For?

The practice that Jesus intended to be a sign of unity has become one of the most divisive aspects of the Christian religion. There is not even any agreement on the name. Some of us prefer to call it the Lord’s Supper. It is more widely known as (Holy) Communion or the Eucharist. 

Invitation to participate in Communion runs the gamut from only the members of the local church (or only to Baptists in the case of those known as Landmarkers) to being open to absolutely everyone. “Open communion” used to refer to being open to all Christians who had been baptized, or even to all Christian believers whether than had been baptized or not. But more and more the Lord’s Supper, by whatever name it is known, has become open to literally everyone who wishes to participate.

Soon after making my blog posting on July 5, I received a fairly lengthy e-mail from Bob Sherer, a Thinking Friend who is a former missionary colleague and a good friend from many years back. Among other things Bob made reference to a controversy that has been swirling around the Christians in Japan, especially around those in the United Church of Christ (Kyōdan, UCC), the largest Protestant denomination in Japan.

A UCC pastor was dismissed because of opening Communion to everyone, whether baptized or a Christian believer or not. That has been an issue for many years among Baptists in Japan also. Years ago I received a telephone call from another Baptist missionary who was rather incensed that his Japanese pastor had started inviting everyone, believer or not, to participate in the Lord’s Supper.

 
Last week I finished reading a fascinating book, Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion (2007) by Sara Miles. Her grandparents had been Christian missionaries, but her mother rejected the Christian faith and Sara (b. 1952) grew up as an atheist. More or less on a whim, several years ago she attended a service at an Episcopal Church in San Francisco where she lived and partook of Communion—and her life was drastically changed, as she narrates well in her book.

As a “dyed in the wool” Baptist, I have trouble affirming the sacramental aspect of Communion forwarded by many denominations—and by Sara Miles (whose interview about her book you can find here). But I have nothing but admiration for what she has done, and what she has become, since as an ardent non-believer she first took Communion and experienced a radical conversion. 

Will Campbell and "Providence"

Will Campbell is one of the most colorful persons I have ever met, and I have just finished reading his captivating book, Providence (1992). Campbell, a Baptist minister, activist, and author, was born in Mississippi in 1924. He was the late cartoonist Doug Marlette’s inspiration for the character Will B. Dunn in his comic strip Kudzu.

Campbell is the author of many books, fiction and non-fiction. His autobiographical work, Brother to a Dragonfly, which I enjoyed reading years ago, was a finalist for the National Book Award in 1978. And I found Providence to be a fascinating narrative.

The unlikely theme of the nearly 300-page book Providence is the history of one section (one square mile) of land in Holmes County, MS. From the mid-1830s to 1938, that section was called Providence Plantation, and then from 1938 to 1955 it was Providence Cooperative Farm. 

The latter was founded and run by missionary evangelist Sherwood Eddy and Rev. Sam H. Franklin with the goal of helping southern sharecroppers. Providence and another cooperative started earlier were organized around four principles: efficiency in production and economy in finance through the cooperative principle, participation in building a socialized economy of abundance, interracial justice, and realistic religion as a social dynamic.

According to Campbell, there were many problems and faults with the efforts of the leaders of the Cooperative Farm, although they meant well. I was especially interested in the many references to Sam Franklin (1902~94), for he went on to become a Presbyterian missionary to Japan. When I lived in Tokyo (from 1966 to 1968), I was a member of a book study group of which Franklin was a member, and I remember him well.

The first part of the book tells about the years when that part of Mississippi was occupied by the Choctaw Indians and the shameful efforts that drove the Choctaw from the land they had occupied for untold generations. Then Campbell narrates some of the evils of slavery and the mistreatment of those used as possessions by the white plantation owners.

Campbell goes on to describe the situation on that one square mile during the Civil War, during the terrible time of Reconstruction, and during the following half-century of struggles by a series of plantation owners. The last part of the book then tells of Campbell’s own unsuccessful efforts to restore the plantation to the Choctaws.

For all of you who are interested not only in American history but particularly in justice issues, I highly recommend Providence. And if you don’t know much about Will Campbell, or even if you do, I think you will find his story engaging. If you would like to see a brief 2008 interview with Campbell, click here for his thoughts about “Racism and the Church” (a little over two minutes).

In Praise of Cousin Carolyn

Cousin Carolyn has come “home.” Carolyn Houts (b. 1942) arrived in Kansas City on July 3 for her “final stateside assignment” and then retirement. Carolyn, as I wrote previously, is my cousin, the one nearest my age on the Seat side of the family, and she is “home” from Ghana. (The picture on the right was taken shortly after she arrived at the Kansas City airport Saturday evening.)

For nearly thirty-four years, Ghana has been home for Carolyn, as she arrived in that west African country as a missionary in January 1977. That is the reason I put home in quotation marks in the first paragraph. If she is anything like June and I were when we returned to the States after thirty-eight years in Japan, it will take quite some time before this country really seems like home again.

Carolyn was a music missionary, although she did a lot of other things as a member of the Ghana Baptist Mission. During the last few years, she mostly taught church music courses at the Ghana Baptist Theological Seminary.

Carolyn majored in music education at Northwest Missouri State University and taught public school music for seven years before entering seminary at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. She was appointed as a missionary to Ghana in 1976, and when she first got to that country she studied Twi, one of the local African languages.

Missionaries are sometimes criticized for being patronizing or agents of Western cultural imperialism. But early on, Carolyn began to learn to play traditional Ghanaian musical instruments, and she developed hymns and gospel songs in various local languages across Ghana. She is available for speaking engagements, which can include playing traditional musical instruments. For about a year she will live in Independence, and her telephone number is 816-254-8825.

More than anything else, I have been impressed through the years at Carolyn’s love for the Ghanaian people and the close relationships she formed with many. She has said, “I am single, but have many African friends who consider me like their mother or grandmother now ... . They now call me Auntie Amma as my Ghanaian name.”

A “Welcome Home” reception for Carolyn is planned for 3:00-5:00 Sunday afternoon, July 11, at the Park Hill Baptist Church in north Kansas City. Those of you who know Carolyn and are within driving distance are cordially invited to attend and to be a part of the group who gather to welcome and honor of Cousin Carolyn. (See www.parkhillbaptistchurch.org for contact information for, or a map to, Park Hill Church.)

More Thoughts about Gender Equality

My posting on Father’s Day was partly about gender equality, and now I want to share some more thoughts on that important subject. When I wrote ten days ago, I talked about how the emphasis on gender equality has taken a lot of pressure off fathers. It has also, thankfully, made it possible for some fathers to spend more time with their children. But perhaps for other fathers it has increased stress because of added child care and housekeeping expectations.

I appreciate the comments which Thinking Friend Susan Miller posted regarding my June 20 piece about fathers. She wrote that when she was at home her mother always made more money than her father. Susan continues, “She was a teacher, my father a preacher (mostly in small country churches). It was never an issue in our house. My dad was also the main caregiver because he was able to stay home with us when we were sick and run us to and from practices. Again, it never occurred to us that this was unusual. So I thank both my father and mother for not raising my brothers and me in a home of stereotypical expectations. I think we are all better parents because of it.”

Although there is some remaining societal stigma, some fathers are satisfied to work only part time, or even to be “househusbands,” in order to spent more quality time with their children. I think this is commendable. For some men with a full-time job, though, there is now more stress because of the expectation that they spend more time in childcare and in doing housework than traditionally done. Thus, “Now, Dad Feels as Stressed as Mom” was the title of a June 18 article in The New York Times.

In a lighter vein, I used to say that there would never be full gender equality until women were willing to carry things in pockets like men (wisely) do. While I still think that is true, perhaps it is also true that gender equality also depends to a degree on men being willing to carry, as I have for years as it is a long-standing custom in Japan, what I have recently learned is now sometimes called a murse (a male purse) or a manbag, although messenger bag is probably a more popular term.

One of the chapters in Manhood for Amateurs (2009) by Michael Chabon is entitled “I Feel Good About My Murse.” He closes by explaining that his murse “holds my essential stuff, including a book—for true contentment, one must carry a book at all times, and great books so rarely fit, my friends, into one’s pocket—but no more, and so I can wear it, and my masculinity, and my contempt for those who might mock or misunderstand me, very lightly indeed” (p. 157). My sentiments, too.


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Happy Birthday to June, my lovely wife who was born on this day in 1937. The picture is one I took this morning. (She doesn’t look like she is going to need a gravestone soon, does she?!)

Thoughts about Gravestones

Soon after posting “More Thoughts about the Afterlife” on June 15, I made a contribution for the upkeep of New Hope Cemetery in response to a recently-received letter asking for donations to increase the cemetery endowment fund.

The first person to be buried in New Hope Cemetery in rural Worth County was Elizabeth (Montgomery) Seat (1795-1878), my Grandpa Seat’s great-grandmother. There are six generations of Seats buried there, including my little brother who died soon after his birth the year before I was born. All the Seat family graves are marked by easy-to-read gravestones.

In talking about the size of our gift to the cemetery association, June said she thought we ought to finalize the purchase of a plot in New Hope and get our own headstone ordered and erected. And she may be right.

Actually, we are going to be cremated, and she has in mind for 1/3 of our ashes to be buried at New Hope, 1/3 in Polk County where her parents and other relatives are buried, and 1/3 in Japan. I have agreed to that tripartite arrangement. But, still, I am not in a hurry to put up a stone in any of the three places, and I am not sure that I want to.

In thinking more about the matter, it seems to me that gravestones, since they are now usually called monuments or memorial stones, should, by rights, be erected by the descendants of the deceased rather than by people putting up their own stones before they die.

An online dictionary defines monument as something “erected as a memorial,” and a memorial is defined as something “intended to celebrate or honor the memory of a person or an event.” So, I wonder, why has it become rather common for people to erect their own monuments or memorial stones?

Is the (rather recent?) practice of people erecting their own gravestones primarily because they want to save their children and grandchildren trouble, as often they live in other places? Is it the result of people being afraid their children and grandchildren won’t put up a suitable stone? Or is it the result of monument companies trying to increase their sales by getting people to buy stones sooner rather than later? Or is it all the above?

I am not sure yet what we will do about this matter, but this is part of what I have been thinking with regard to gravestones. I wonder what others around my age or older have, or haven’t, done. And for those who have already erected a “pre-need” stone, I wonder what their rationale was.

Thoughts about Fathers

As you know, today is Father’s Day in the U.S. and in many other countries around the world, so Happy Father’s Day to all of you fathers who read this.

Today I feel sad that I no longer can express thanks to my father. I was especially sad in 2008, when for the first time in my life I could not wish him a happy birthday on March 21 or give him a card or token of appreciation on Father’s Day. But I remain grateful to him for the gift of life and the material and spiritual nurture he gave me.

I am happy today to be the father of four adult children as well as the grandfather of seven. They are a joy to me, and I appreciate the way they live from day to day and year to year far more than any words or tokens of appreciation I may (or may not) receive today.

I am also happy that both of my sons are good fathers; my oldest son the father of two grown daughters, my youngest son the father of two small daughters, the younger of whom was born in February of this year. The picture on the right makes me think Ken is a proud father, which he has a right to be.

It is not easy being a father. In many cases it is much too easy to become a father; but being a father is quite difficult. That is especially true when the father is expected to be the head of the home and the main “breadwinner” for the family. That is the traditional position of fathers in this country, but one that has changed considerably during my lifetime. It is also a very common idea in Asia and in other parts of the world.

Earlier this month, June and I watched “Tokyo Sonata” (2008), an intriguing movie about a Japanese “salaryman,” a husband and father, who loses his job because of downsizing but tries to carry on without telling his wife and children. His attempt to maintain his position of authority in the home leads to near disaster for both him and his wife as well as for their two sons.

As those of you who are familiar with my ideas or who have read my book Fed Up with Fundamentalism know, I do not accept the “chain of command” idea, which has been forwarded by Bill Gothard, among many others, and widely accepted by many conservative Christians. That idea is as much Confucian as it is Christian, and among other things, it leads to inordinate pressure on husbands and fathers, such as is so graphically portrayed in “Tokyo Sonata.”

So, I write this in honor and praise of fathers today, but also in gratitude that many fathers now don’t have to carry the same heavy load so many in the past had to bear. It's still not easy to be a father, but, thankfully, the increasing emphasis on gender equality makes it easier for many than it used to be.

More Thoughts about the Afterlife

That noted theologian Woody Allen is reported to have said, “Rather than live on in the hearts and minds of my fellow men, I’d prefer to live on in my apartment.” Unlike Allen, I have the hope, and the firm confidence, that after death I will “live on” in Heaven and not just in the hearts and minds of others. But similar to Allen, right now I prefer to live on in my home on Canterbury Lane.

On March 20 I posted “Thoughts about the Afterlife.” After reading the chapters on old age and death in Harold Kushner’s book Conquering Fear, I have been thinking more about the afterlife—but now with reference to myself rather than my parents. (The 3/20 posting was the day before what would have been my father’s ninety-fifth birthday.) 

I was thinking about this matter while jogging the other day, and the words of the old gospel song “O That Will Be Glory For Me” came to mind. Two of the verses declare, “When all my labors and trials are o’er, / And I am safe on that beautiful shore, / Just to be near the dear Lord I adore, / Will through the ages be glory for me.” And “Friends will be there I have loved long ago; / Joy like a river around me will flow; Yet just a smile from my Savior, I know, / Will through the ages be glory for me” (words by Charles H. Gabriel, 1856-1932; first published in 1900). 

In my forties, I probably found considerable significance in those words, but for some reason I don’t find them particularly helpful now. At this time I want to make the most of living here and now rather than focusing on what will happen after death. And at the end of my life, whether thirty days or thirty years from now, I would like for the focus of the funeral to be about life on this earth rather than about my life in Heaven. 

Again, I say this not because I don’t believe in Heaven; rather, for whatever reason, I just don’t seem that interested in Heaven or in any hurry to get there. Like before, maybe it is because of my inability to get any good grasp of what life in Heaven will really be like. At any rate, my interest and emphasis at this time is how to live meaningfully right now, as a fallible human being on earth. And maybe that is as it should be. 

Jesus, after all, didn’t talk a lot about Heaven. He talked about the Kingdom of God. Even though Christianity has often interpreted the Kingdom as beginning at the end times, for Jesus it was primarily his vision for here and now. And Jesus’ emphasis seems to have been upon the existence of a “beloved community,” not just the bliss of isolated individuals.