Taking a comment break from Complegalitarian

I've decided to take a break from commenting at Complegalitarian. I've been targeted as being to blame for a number of things that aren't perfect there, most of which I think are ridiculous. Most of all, I've been blamed for "forcing" someone else to stop commenting. I'm tired of the controversy and I'm angry at being used that way.

I own that decision. No one's making me do anything I don't choose to do. I'm not making anyone else do anything they don't choose to do. I think Complegalitarian is too important an effort for understanding, for any one person to be the focus of controversy, whether deliberately or by someone else's efforts. I didn't make up the unreasonable rules, I don't agree to them, and I don't have to play by them. I'm not going to engage anyone anywhere else about the issue, most certainly not by e-mail. I don't get into comment exchanges with people I don't believe I'd be wise to trust, on venues they control. Been there, done that, have the bloody t-shirts to prove it. It's one of the rules I set up for myself and it's been serving me well since I finally learned my lesson.

For the record: I'm responsible for my own statements. I'm not responsible for others' statements, nor are they responsible for mine. There is no "collective" who should be expected to restrict me or anyone else. I stand by having stated the truth on Complegalitarian. I'm not going to let myself nor other egalitarians be burned further by my continuing to comment there for the present time.

I am responsible for dealing wisely with my anger. I am angry right now. I'd be just as angry, probably more so, if this were happening to anyone else (and it has been happening to someone else as well). Taking a break is my first step to controlling my anger over this sidelining of constructive interaction on a blog I've come to love (Complegalitarian).

I'm posting this here just so anyone who might wish to know why I'm not commenting, can get a little of the information without my distracting Complegalitarian conversation any further. Complegalitarian shouldn't be about me, any other individual, or any real or perceived "side." It should be about growing in understanding of one another so that we can grow into fuller unity in Jesus Christ. To that end, I'm praying for the participants there and for myself.

Advent, Week 1: Monday

Isaiah 2:2-3 (NRSV)

"In days to come the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. Many peoples shall come and say, 'Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.' For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem."

I've been thinking today about what "Zion" and "the mountain of the Lord's house" means to us Christians in the West, at the close of 2007. It's not my intention to get into all the possible details of the historical context of Isaiah's message concerning Judah and Jerusalem, but simply to outline a few thoughts about how that message intersects with where and how we live now as Christians.

First of all, if we consider the actual city of Jerusalem, it 's interesting that nations do stream to Jerusalem. Peoples of three different world-wide faiths claim Jerusalem as a (or the) capital of their historic faith. Unfortunately, this has resulted in fierce contention for occupation of it. This is sadly ironic, considering the prophecy of verse 4 which follows. Some people come to the earthly, physical Jerusalem today to pray, some to see the sights, and some to learn. Some come, and even stay, to foment further discord among the very uneasy truce that often holds there. But when we think of Jerusalem, we don't see it as the supreme center of learning from the Lord that Isaiah prophesied it would be. It's simply an interesting, old, important, but mainly violent place that most people never visit.

So I began to wonder, what are the "jerusalems" of the world?

• For "what happens there, stays there" naughtiness, we have Las Vegas.
  
• For fashion and style, we have Paris and Milan.
  
• For celebrity and conspicuous consumption, we have Los Angeles.
  
• For the hub of world commerce and finance, we have New York and Tokyo.
  
• For history and tradition (with a fair bit of funkiness in the mix), we have London.
  
• For more history and tradition, especially religious-style, we have Rome.
  

There are many, many more "centers" and I'm certain my list could be improved. What I could not really come up with, however, was a modern-day equivalent of Isaiah's visionary city of God's own instruction. We have no one place where all the world knows they can go to learn from God.

What this tells me is that we have to settle for smaller, more intimate "centers" of godly learning. We grafted branches -- Christians -- have received precious instruction from God. According to Jesus the Christ, we are to "teach [all nations] to obey all that [Christ has] commanded [us]." When we've been taught, we're expected to teach others. (As with anything, learning that is hoarded and kept to oneself quickly becomes ingrown and does no one else any good.)

I believe that our churches, our communities of worship, learning, and service, are supposed to be "little jerusalems" to the world. We should be living, 24-7 examples of the teaching of God, reflecting the richness of God's wisdom and practicing the grace by which we have been saved.

As Advent begins, I hope to be that kind of beacon toward God for those who are dying for what only God can provide. I pray that I may be a channel through which God can work to draw others to the divine heart. The first candle is lit. I pray that I, too, may shine brightly for Christ.