Congregational Bromides: "We are a generous church."

Congregations, like people, are skittish related to money conversations. The tension has heightened for households and congregations in the ELCA. Some people and congregations chose to withhold offerings from congregations and synods related to Churchwide Assembly 2009 decisions concerning same sex relationships and clergy. The climate for stewardship was already challenging. In the midst of the tension related to money, congregations often make statements about the generous culture of the church, the generosity of their members, or the generosity of the leadership. What is the standard for generosity?

Public discourse often falls into the trap of emphasis on who gives the most. The person or organization that makes the big gift is lauded for their contribution. Large gifts are important for any non-profit type of organization, but a church has a calling to teach people about giving. Giving is one of the most referenced concepts in the entire Bible, more than love, prayer, and forgiveness combined. Before elaborating on generosity standards, consider these points:

1. Giving to religious organizations in the United States on average represents approximately 1-2% of annual household income. This figure is frequently referenced by church leaders and teachers, and this academic research confirms that publicly affirmed figure.

2. Related to point #1, in an anecdotal observation of giving in the Southwestern Washington Synod of the ELCA using (self-reported) congregational trend report statistics, the average giving amount per person in average worship attendance mostly falls in a range of $1000-$1500 annually to the congregation. This means that if your congregation has an average worship attendance of 100, your congregation's average offering income is $100K-150K per year. I'm investigating how that corresponds to how congregations give to their synods/ELCA. Once I gather that information, I'll post an update.

3. I think congregational leaders like to use the word "generous" referencing member giving because of the sense of relief they feel when a budget is met, a major project is completed, or a disaster strikes (Katrina, Haiti, North Dakota flooding, etc.) People indeed make an extra effort to meet certain needs in congregational life. People do give, but is it generous?

Many questions arise after the establishment of a simple giving standard. The biblical standard for giving is 10 percent of income--off the top (aka "first fruits giving). Does the 10 percent have to go to a local congregation first? Can a portion of the 10 percent giving go to other charitable organizations? Is the percentage of giving tabulated before or after taxes? These are interesting questions.

I have yet to reach a conclusion about the nature and scope about generosity, but I look for things that communicate generosity. Some points of generosity can be measured, others can't.

1. Sacrificial giving--do people or organizations actually give up something in order to help others? Or do they go deeper into debt while giving to others?
2. Growth in giving--if a giving standard of 10 percent is not met, then is the congregation growing in its giving, like half a percent growth in giving per year over a multiple year period?
3. Does a congregation extend its giving beyond 10 percent? I remember a challenge years ago when I served in the Greater Milwaukee Synod, when Bishop Peter Rogness invited us to consider becoming 50/50 congregations, sending out 50 percent of what we take in. I always aspired to serve that kind of congregation, but I have yet to experience first hand that kind of giving. Getting to 10 percent is challenging enough, and occasionally I experience something slightly over 10 percent.
4. I believe that true generosity reflects grace. Arguing and bickering about percentages misses the mark for grace. If giving leaves people feeling sour, the the giving and generous spirit is buried. One of the great congregational leaders with whom I worked, Otis Timm, told me instead of giving until it hurts, to give until it feels good. In his honor I called my stewardship newsletter, "Feel Good Giving."

What I find interesting is that congregational leadership wants people in their congregation to tithe, yet they struggle to tithe themselves. I learned holding an expectation rings hollow when leaders are not willing to do it themselves.Before I drift too far on a negative path, I must share that giving is not what makes people right with God. Giving is our response to God's love for us. But I do believe generosity can change the world. A self-giving, generous God in Jesus Christ gave to the point of a brutal death. In this example, generosity reflects going beyond expectations with giving and grace. My hope is that congregations reflect upon their usage of generosity and their proclamations of generosity in congregational life.

Confessions of a Recovering Visionaholic

My name is Joe. I love visionary thinking. I'm a recovering visionaholic.

Just because I love and admire visionary thinking does not make me a visionary. Occasionally I am moved to an innovative idea or thought. Often I am inspired to respond to a provocation of the Holy Spirit and imagine a project that brings connections to God and people. These ideas stretch me and the congregations I serve. I've never been a part of a congregation long enough to experience a vision producing benefits first hand. Sometimes I read or hear a story about a congregation I served make a great leap toward reaching a vision; I smile and give thanks that I helped build something visionary.

My working definition of vision for years: a Holy Spirit idea that stretches my capabilities and the congregation I serve. In the first congregation I served, Our Savior's Evangelical Lutheran Church--Hartland, WI, I was full of ideas and experiences from seminary. I worked toward a partnership vision for the congregation--I used the King James Version of Proverbs 29:18, "Where there is no vision, the people perish," as a guiding Bible verse for the congregation to imagine grand possibilities in serving God and neighbor. I think this understanding and usage of vision is good and faithful. I think a key part of congregational mission is reliance on God and corresponding grand thinking, followed with action and discernment related to vision. I made a mistake in using Proverbs 29:18--I ignored the context, ignored the Hebrew, ignored the other translations. I was too busy convincing the congregation about the goodness of visionary thinking (forgot some of those good principles of my seminary education) beyond having a nice, new building.

I delved into reading on congregational vision and mission. I attended conferences and workshops addressing vision and change. I wanted to develop a vision statement to accompany their mission statement. I remember workshops at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Burnsville, MN and their vision statement (which has evolved a little checking the above link "10,000 passionate Christians in every generation." POP showed me the only congregational vision that has inspired me in 16 years of seminary and ministry.  That's not to say that congregations fail in ministry, but the ministry gets cut short without a compelling vision. At a Prince of Peace workshop I learned that a vision is a compelling idea so big and grand that only God can help you get there. I believe congregations are inhibited by small thinking and fixed on what they can sensibly accomplish: budgets, keeping the lights on, having a pastor to serve as a chaplain for the members, occasionally serving food to the hungry, etc.

For over 9 years I served in transition congregations with varying thinking scopes, and varying degrees of ministry effectiveness--though none with a compelling vision that stretched the congregation to imagine what was possible with God. Though I witnessed good ministry over the years, every mission seemed sensible and well within the realm of the congregation's skills. I was sucked into small thinking to a degree in the past decade. Vision developed into a buzz word over the years, losing its meaning for congregations. In this trajectory, vision looks like white flour--something good milled into something filling, yet bland, with little nutritional value.

Sunday, April 25th at First Lutheran Community Church revealed their passion about visionary thinking. Pastor Allen Cudahy was a visionary leader at FLCC for 20 years--partnering with forward thinking leaders and turning around and growing a Mainline Protestant/Lutheran congregation in the Pacific Northwest. Visionary thinking is embedded in the congregational culture. The people of FLCC speak some of the language of vision, but they've equated it today with the dream of a community center in Port Orchard. I think a community center represents visionary thinking. It inspired passion yesterday in a public discussion about the dream's future. People don't want to lose that visionary thought--they've had a taste of visionary thinking and action, and they don't want to let it go. I do not blame them. The dream of the community center is no longer visionary, because the congregation has not taken discernible action on this project for a few years. A vision compels people to act beyond what they deem sensible.

In short, vision does not equal a community center (or fill in whatever project your congregation is in process). Vision is a word that is thrown around in hopeful congregations all over North America. I mistakenly attached myself to the feeling of vision rather than the guidance of God. It's time for me to stop being a visionaholic and connecting myself with more sound reflection, prayer and discernment about vision. Vision is more than a good feeling. The good feeling is a by product of God's gracious provision. More learning and some sermons on the topic are forthcoming.

God revealed in conversation with daughter's mind

I planned to come home on the evening of Holy Wednesday, March 31, to have a relaxing evening before the big work of Holy Week arrived. My daughters and I walked in to a cold house, only to find a broken glass and a ransacked home. I thought something was wrong with the cold home--I knew what I was facing when I noticed the Wii was gone.

"The Wii is gone," I thought. "We've been broken into," I said under my breath.

At first I thought about being calm. I was mugged while I lived in Washington, DC. I was 25 years old. I called my mommy. Then I alerted my credit card companies. Then I called the police. I was going to be calm this time. Were the thieves still in the house?

My seven year old probably heard my statement. She screamed, "we were robbed!"

I called 911 immediately, hoping to get some help if the thieves were still there. My wife was over 2.5 hours away at work that evening. My parents were still at work. I couldn't leave because I wanted to meet the police. I wasn't sure what to do with the girls. I finally connected with my aunt, she came over with a friend. I called our insurance agent. The police came, asked some questions, searched the house, took some pictures. My parents came and took the girls for the evening.

No one was physically hurt. I thought the thieves took things that I found later. Later I discovered they took things I didn't realize at first. Family heirlooms were stolen. That hurts. They took my nice camera. That hurts. What they stole is not the point of this post. Stuff happens. We all adjust, react and cope in different ways. My wife, the heavy sleeper, who wouldn't wake up if you drove a truck through our bedroom, now wakes up multiple times per night. I feel more lethargic than I have in my entire life. My three year old shows no outward sign of knowledge of this break-in.

The most interesting aspect of this story is where I see God. After my seven year old screamed about what had happened, she grabbed a piece of loose leaf notebook paper and began to draw. I was glad because I didn't need to worry about her while I made phone calls. Within 15 minutes of coming into the house, my daughter drew the cartoon above. I'm still in awe of her craft. She has an Autism Spectrum Disorder. If I ever doubted the literature that ASD people think in pictures, I don't now. I lived her thoughts for that rare moment in time--and now I can better imagine the fears she experiences today. Everyone who walked into our home that evening saw her drawing. Maybe I marvel at the cartoon even more because I had to wait 4 years before I came close to a conversation with her. This cartoon depicts the thief coming into our house and taking the Wii. There are other characters that were not physically present in our house, like a snake and a stuffed lion toy, but I quickly knew what she created. I saw a gift in my daughter, and we connected. God revealed a gift in an anxious and painful situation--a call to me to develop that gift. Maybe she'll be an artist. Maybe I will look for a way for her to be mentored by a cartoonist. I do not know.

Even though this is my most challenging period of writing in the past two years (I'm finding it hard to create in the midst of violation and destruction), I'm taking joy in the creativity of my daughter. I wonder if this post is a turning point for me, but for now, my daughter's creativity is enough.

Congregational Bromides: "We are a warm and friendly church"

Congregations reveal several patterns in displaying self-image. These patterns appear on websites, promotional literature, judicatory documents, and in general descriptions related to public discourse from members of the congregation. I often see these patterns in what the ELCA calls its "Ministry Site Profile," a 14-page document designed for congregational reflection, focus and articulation of mission, ministry, demographics and congregational culture and specific needs for pastoral leadership (among other attributes). These documents are shared as hard copies or electronically with pastors discerning a call. It is a significant part of my work in interim ministry to facilitate discussion, research and composition to complete this document. Though I see less of these documents than judicatory officials, I see many of them as a candidate to serve a congregation and the process in completing them.

Congregations generally struggle to reflect on assumptions about their community of faith. Add a group of leaders passionate about that community to a reflection and articulation process, and anxiety and passion escalate. I believe healthy congregations are able to reflect upon their assumptions, sometimes challenge them, and interface their assumptions related to executing a faithful mission and ministry. Over the years of reading Ministry Site Profiles and other pieces produced by congregations, I compiled a list of congregational bromides. "Congregational bromides" are frequently repeated statements related to self-image that are strongly held beliefs among members and displayed as truth. Yet congregations struggle to substantiate their church culture truth claims.

The first congregational bromide for reflection: "we are a warm and friendly church."

Some basic reflection questions:

+Would a congregation dare say it wasn't warm and friendly?
+What are the standards for warmth and friendliness?
+Can warmth and friendliness standards differ from congregation to congregation?
+Is a warm and friendly congregation a human concept or something connected to biblical theology?
+What is the purpose behind being a warm and friendly church? Can these purposes differ?

"Congregations believe they are friendly, because congregational members are friendly with each other." Though I've heard this statement from many different sources, the first source for me was Patrick Keifert from Luther Seminary. That point resonated with me because until that point I heard conversations in some congregations with statements like, "I can't believe this congregation isn't growing. If only people could see how friendly we are!"

For years I have seen congregations are friendly with each other, yet guests/visitors can walk in an attempt to participate almost unnoticed. These kinds of experiences are well documented. The unofficial congregational goal ends up being individuals in the congregation seek to have a warm and friendly feeling when they come to church, and thus the goal and ideal is to become a warm and friendly church--to build a circle of intimacy above all else. Keifert challenges the notion of intimacy and the church as a "family" in his book Welcoming the Stranger. Thomas Long for the Alban Institute gathers Keifert's and other works together in his short piece entitled Hospitality to the Stranger. Each of these works reveals some of the tensions between a desire for people to have intimacy, yet a calling to serve as a public worshiping community.

Some congregations are better than others living and serving as a public worshiping community. Whether a congregation is "warm and friendly" is actually of little value to me as I work with congregations in transition--especially when almost every congregation sees themselves that way. However, if a congregation is going to make "warm and friendly" a public claim, I will challenge them to substantiate that claim.

Where will the Church go from here?

I tend to see the Church and any congregation I serve at a crossroads. Maybe that is my tendency after 9 years of interim ministry and 10 congregations asking deep questions about their ministries. These congregations experienced the loss of a pastor, and often other traumatic changes ranging from pastoral sexual misconduct, to the death of a pastor, to violent conflict. The questions I ask of crossroads congregations include:

1. Why has God called this congregation to this particular place at this particular time?
2. Where will this congregation go from here?


Acts and the Pauline writings of the New Testament depict a Church and communities in specific locales addressing questions similar to the aforementioned questions. Communities of the New Testament are living among questions regarding their existence in Christ, and how they live out these foundational truths in practice.

First Lutheran Community Church served as a visionary congregation with a visionary pastor for 20 years. The vision was once a distant idea, but now the vision is mostly part of the current congregational culture. As FLCC prepares to call a new pastor, the time comes again for visionary thinking for ministry. Where will First Lutheran Community Church go from here? I believe the Church at large asks some of the same questions that FLCC asks itself. During the next sermon series during May and June (maybe longer), we will take a micro (FLCC) and macro (the ELCA, the mainline protestant churches of the Pacific Northwest, the Church in North America, etc.) views of particular episodes in the life of a new Christian Church depicted in Acts and the early writings of Paul.

Where will the Church go from here?

This Sunday's Bible text comes from Acts 1: 12-26, and the sermon title is "Loved, Valued and Replaceable."

Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name

John 20: 1-18

An old Christian tradition states that one Christian says to another Christian or group of Christians--

"Christ is risen!"

The response is "Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!"

To speak these words that Jesus is raised from the dead is an important proclamation for followers of Christ. It states that Jesus Christ conquered death. What human beings think is the end of life, God's raising Christ from among the dead means that trusting in the power of God in Christ and God's claim upon our lives means that death will not conquer us, either. The resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead after his unjust execution on a cross is about as central to the Christian faith as anything proclaimed by the Christian Church.

Christ is risen, indeed.

I've never appreciated the "Christ is risen" exchange on Easter Sunday and in the weeks following. I dread speaking them. I dread hearing them.

It's not that I do not believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, but it is the story following the resurrection that disturbs me, even keeps me awake at night.

The story told in the gospel according to John depicts Jesus' loved ones coming to visit his grave site, not unlike you and I might visit a grave site of a loved one who has died, especially the days soon after a funeral. No one who comes to Jesus' grave and finds it empty grasps the reality or the magnitude of the fact that Jesus has been raised from the dead. Jesus even told his followers that this would happen, but they still don't get it--and they even hung around Jesus. A lot.

The resurrection of Jesus from the dead is hard for the human mind to grasp. Even with the gift of faith that God gives, resurrection is still challenging to grasp. To state that Jesus is raised from the dead is not enough. A statement didn't even work for Jesus. Jesus said he was going to be raised from the dead, and yet when his followers saw the evidence, they still didn't get it.

What changed?

Think about the power of a name. The power of a name can alter our state of being. If our name is spoken with anger, disdain or hatred, it shoots to the core of our being and can drive anyone to despair. A name spoken with curiosity, interest, enthusiasm, adoration or love can help someone experience joy and help them move mountains. In my studies related to couple's counseling and marriage care that an exercise for relationship strengthening can focus on intentionally using your significant other's name as opposed to nicknames, pet names, or randomly shouting out orders, requests, or seeking information.

The utterance of a name in love is part of our greatest rites of passage. We speak each others names during a wedding, and attach those names to promises. We take great care to choose names for children and pets. At a baptism, we say the baptized person's name and say "you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever." That name is repeated at Confirmation. A name is spoken at graduations and award ceremonies--and loved ones and fans cheer with delight. The activity attached to speaking a name carries great power--and that power can be used for good or ill.

Recently the morning "Today Show" and news outlets around the country told a story about the abuse of names--a telephone scam where elderly people are called and their heart strings are tugged, uttering the name "Grandma" as a means get to money. Saying things like "Grandma, I'm in trouble. Can you wire me some money?" The power of a name is to be used with great care.

One of my favorite utterances of a name is from an old television show from the 80's and 90's (at least it's old to this child of the 70's): I think many of you will know that name once you see his image. Once the name was uttered, some sort of lovable wisdom was shared: "It's a dog eat dog world, and I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear."

The writers of the television situation comedy "Cheers" made a powerful link to one of the show's most beloved characters, Norm Peterson, and the song that introduced the show.

I think the Cheers theme "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" is an instructive song to our understanding of the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and what it means after the actual event. For the event to actually happen is one thing. But the event of Jesus being raised from the dead only had meaning in the context of a relationship. When Mary went to Jesus' grave site and found it empty, she didn't know what to make of it. She thought Jesus' body was taken by grave robbers. Jesus approached Mary and spoke to her. Mary didn't recognize Jesus or his voice. But once Jesus called out Mary's name--she knew that Jesus was alive, and she called him by one of the ways she knew her relationship. She affectionately called him "teacher."

The resurrection only became real to Mary when her name was spoken by Jesus and it was contextualized by a relationship. When I hear or speak the words "Christ Is Risen," it rings a little hollow for me because I know that I can do a better job of helping build relationships in the Church. I know that we can do better together. I know that hundreds of thousands of people look at Christians and don't care to hear about who Jesus is or what he has done because we haven't put a friendship, relationship or hospitality behind the name we proclaim. We may know something of the power of Jesus' name, but we have lost the sense of power of all the names of people whom God created.

I know nothing of the faith background of Scott Ginsberg--but I know that he has recognized the power of knowing a name. Several years ago, Scott decided to start wearing a name tag, all day, every day. He wrote a book, established a www.hellomynameisscott.com, and speaks worldwide about how his life has changed and the insights he has gained from wearing a name tag--how he built relationships because he was willing to put his name out there. Scott recognized the power of a name and turned it into making a living. I hear all kinds of excuses for people in a church not wearing a name tag. The truth is, we don't know as many names as we think we do, and sometimes I will avoid people because I don't want to go through the embarrassment of not remembering someone's name (has that happened to anyone else?). Name tags give people the opportunity to avoid the shame of not knowing a name, and it creates a better path to build a relationship.

I will not make a statement that the Church needs to be more like a bar, or that everyone in a congregation has to be best friends, or that everyone has to wear a name tag, OR ELSE. What I am saying is that we must recognize and act upon the power of a name and contextualize that name with a relationship. The statement about the resurrection telling the joyous event of Jesus' resurrection from the dead that ends the finality of death only means something in the context of a relationship.

There is something similar to Norm Peterson walking into Cheers and the Church. Wherever you go to encounter God, Jesus calls out your name with the same love and enthusiasm.

Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!