Organizations and people often like the idea of renewal. The desire to regain a sense of vitality in life and and community is strong, and the marketplace offers more than enough techniques to achieve renewal. Those techniques may be helpful. However, without trust, renewal is fleeting. Psalm 46 is a song of trust in God, not directed toward an individual, but to community. Communities without trust in God or one another will struggle to experience renewal.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sermon Audio: What do I expect from love? (Leviticus 19:1-18)
When love is expounded upon in Matthew 22 and Leviticus 19, the expectation of love is not related to how I feel, but by who God is. Therefore love that is referenced here is not rooted in a particular emotion, but a by recognition of God's action. How that relates to our neighbor love is a reflection of God's action in the world. A principle part of God's creation is humankind created in God's image. That is the challenge of love, when I expect emotion, God expects that we act toward our neighbor with the understanding that the other person is created in God's image.
Sermon Sample Sunday: What do I expect out of love?
Love is a popular theme in the Bible. There's an expectation of love.
What do I expect out of love?
When love is expounded upon in Matthew 22 and Leviticus 19, the expectation of love is not related to how I feel, but by who God is. Therefore love that is referenced here is not rooted in a particular emotion, but a by recognition of God's action. How that relates to our neighbor love is a reflection of God's action in the world. A principle part of God's creation is humankind created in God's image. That is the challenge of love, when I expect emotion, God expects that we act toward our neighbor with the understanding that the other person is created in God's image.
What do I expect out of love?
- An intensity of emotion. It's something I may not be able to quantify, but whether it's a movie that I'm watching, a piece of chocolate that I'm eating, or a date with my wife, I expect to experience a degree of emotional intensity.
- If I'm directing love toward someone else, I expect to see some degree of joy in that person.
- I expect to experience a sense of connectedness with someone else. Whether it's a project or helping someone in need, or working with my family--the idea that we share something in common is something I expect.
- I don't like to admit it, but sometimes I expect something in return.
When love is expounded upon in Matthew 22 and Leviticus 19, the expectation of love is not related to how I feel, but by who God is. Therefore love that is referenced here is not rooted in a particular emotion, but a by recognition of God's action. How that relates to our neighbor love is a reflection of God's action in the world. A principle part of God's creation is humankind created in God's image. That is the challenge of love, when I expect emotion, God expects that we act toward our neighbor with the understanding that the other person is created in God's image.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Saturday Sports Y.A.P.: The NBA, NHL, jilted fans, and church entitlement
I've been giving my relationship with professional basketball the silent treatment.
If anything about the National Basketball Association comes across my ears or eyes, I look past it. I read something else. I engage in another activity. I'll read Leviticus if I have to (no offense to Leviticus scholars).
I am a jilted Seattle SuperSonics fan. They were the first team to reward my sports love with a championship in 1979 when I was 9 years old (okay, maybe it wasn't just for me). I went outside and danced in the streets of my subdivision with my neighbors after the big win. The Sonics always had a special place in my heart. After the team departed for Oklahoma in 2008, after the spectacle of failed leadership, of disingenuous deals, greed and politics, I chose the silent treatment in my relationship with the NBA. I refuse to acknowledge their presence. Some folks in Seattle continue to be NBA fans with heavy hearts. Some chose to respond with anger. Others chose to respond with endless analysis of the systems and people involved that produced the departure of NBA basketball from Seattle. My lips are essentially sealed.
Some people I read, watch and listen to have mentioned that the NBA is in a labor negotiation. I don't know the details. I still don't really care. The parties involved couldn't possibly expect any sympathy from the fan base. Look at the activities of the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street. Look at the unemployment that hasn't been this high in decades. Who wants to read stories about millionaires and billionaires arguing about a game, especially when the integrity meter is at swamp level? If millionaires and billionaires want to argue about something that will be truly beneficial for people, argue until you're blue in the face. Sure, the NBA provides jobs for many people besides the players and management, but they have no voice at all in the negotiations. My caring doesn't mean much in this equation. So be it.
I broke my media engagement with the NBA recently. If there was anyone who was going to do it, it wasn't going to be the local Seattle metro sports or news talking heads. It was going to be Bill Simmons. Simmons has been the one national media figure (I would argue that he acted like a good pastor in many ways) who has consistently delivered emotionally, skillfully, humorously and analytically writing about how Seattle was hosed regarding the Sonics. I found some solace in Simmons' words. He continues being a NBA fan (he's from Boston and lives in LA), but he became a de facto Seattle advocate in the NBA world. Simmons named my pain, listened and legitimized that pain. I was tricked into reading his recent article because I thought it was going to be more about hockey and the NHL, but Bill Simmons is juxtaposing hockey and hoops to illustrate the issues with the NBA as an organization. The NBA has wrongly assumed that their fans will stick by them if they can't move forward in the midst of their problems soon.
No organizational loyalist should expect relational harmony and bliss all the time. Especially in the church. While I look at the NBA, I can't help but think of the church (well, it's what I do). I expect the church to strive for justice and live in the midst of human struggle. I expect there to be a lot of unease, because in the church we deal with life and death (well, it's what we do). What bothers me about conflicts in the church in this day and age on multiple levels is the sense of entitlement leaders of the church have (and I am one of those entitled leaders). We talk about people as commodities--we track worship attendance, baptisms, and demographics of all kinds. In the midst of how we treat each other in the church, we often look at society and blame the masses for not wanting to be part of our cantankerous little club, and that our numbers don't match our bloated sense of entitlement. People find other things to do.
I think about how I haven't watched more than 3 seconds of an NBA game in almost 4 years. I have found other things to do. No one is entitled to my participation or anyone's participation in a community. In church or in sports. That giving of blood, sweat, tears and allegiance comes from a delicate balance of trust and risk. I think "NBA" and "church" can be interchangeable words the equation about trust, risk, and allegiance.
Maybe this trust/risk/allegiance/entitlement equation is one of the reasons I am called to serve the congregation that I do. St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, had a near-death experience. They nearly had the votes to close in 2011. But they didn't. What I do see after 4 months of building relationships in the congregation is that the sense of entitlement I have seen in many communities of faith over the years is minimized (as far as I can tell). I think they've helped me get over my own sense of entitlement (to a degree). It's not a perfect congregation by any stretch of the imagination, nor do I think I am the perfect pastor to build a renewed congregation. But with a minimized sense of entitlement, we have some trust with which we can build.
Maybe God can still do something with us.
If anything about the National Basketball Association comes across my ears or eyes, I look past it. I read something else. I engage in another activity. I'll read Leviticus if I have to (no offense to Leviticus scholars).
I am a jilted Seattle SuperSonics fan. They were the first team to reward my sports love with a championship in 1979 when I was 9 years old (okay, maybe it wasn't just for me). I went outside and danced in the streets of my subdivision with my neighbors after the big win. The Sonics always had a special place in my heart. After the team departed for Oklahoma in 2008, after the spectacle of failed leadership, of disingenuous deals, greed and politics, I chose the silent treatment in my relationship with the NBA. I refuse to acknowledge their presence. Some folks in Seattle continue to be NBA fans with heavy hearts. Some chose to respond with anger. Others chose to respond with endless analysis of the systems and people involved that produced the departure of NBA basketball from Seattle. My lips are essentially sealed.
Some people I read, watch and listen to have mentioned that the NBA is in a labor negotiation. I don't know the details. I still don't really care. The parties involved couldn't possibly expect any sympathy from the fan base. Look at the activities of the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street. Look at the unemployment that hasn't been this high in decades. Who wants to read stories about millionaires and billionaires arguing about a game, especially when the integrity meter is at swamp level? If millionaires and billionaires want to argue about something that will be truly beneficial for people, argue until you're blue in the face. Sure, the NBA provides jobs for many people besides the players and management, but they have no voice at all in the negotiations. My caring doesn't mean much in this equation. So be it.
I broke my media engagement with the NBA recently. If there was anyone who was going to do it, it wasn't going to be the local Seattle metro sports or news talking heads. It was going to be Bill Simmons. Simmons has been the one national media figure (I would argue that he acted like a good pastor in many ways) who has consistently delivered emotionally, skillfully, humorously and analytically writing about how Seattle was hosed regarding the Sonics. I found some solace in Simmons' words. He continues being a NBA fan (he's from Boston and lives in LA), but he became a de facto Seattle advocate in the NBA world. Simmons named my pain, listened and legitimized that pain. I was tricked into reading his recent article because I thought it was going to be more about hockey and the NHL, but Bill Simmons is juxtaposing hockey and hoops to illustrate the issues with the NBA as an organization. The NBA has wrongly assumed that their fans will stick by them if they can't move forward in the midst of their problems soon.
No organizational loyalist should expect relational harmony and bliss all the time. Especially in the church. While I look at the NBA, I can't help but think of the church (well, it's what I do). I expect the church to strive for justice and live in the midst of human struggle. I expect there to be a lot of unease, because in the church we deal with life and death (well, it's what we do). What bothers me about conflicts in the church in this day and age on multiple levels is the sense of entitlement leaders of the church have (and I am one of those entitled leaders). We talk about people as commodities--we track worship attendance, baptisms, and demographics of all kinds. In the midst of how we treat each other in the church, we often look at society and blame the masses for not wanting to be part of our cantankerous little club, and that our numbers don't match our bloated sense of entitlement. People find other things to do.
I think about how I haven't watched more than 3 seconds of an NBA game in almost 4 years. I have found other things to do. No one is entitled to my participation or anyone's participation in a community. In church or in sports. That giving of blood, sweat, tears and allegiance comes from a delicate balance of trust and risk. I think "NBA" and "church" can be interchangeable words the equation about trust, risk, and allegiance.
Maybe this trust/risk/allegiance/entitlement equation is one of the reasons I am called to serve the congregation that I do. St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, had a near-death experience. They nearly had the votes to close in 2011. But they didn't. What I do see after 4 months of building relationships in the congregation is that the sense of entitlement I have seen in many communities of faith over the years is minimized (as far as I can tell). I think they've helped me get over my own sense of entitlement (to a degree). It's not a perfect congregation by any stretch of the imagination, nor do I think I am the perfect pastor to build a renewed congregation. But with a minimized sense of entitlement, we have some trust with which we can build.
Maybe God can still do something with us.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Minefields and opportunities in learning for pastors and congregations
The field of continuing education for pastors and congregations presents both minefields and opportunities for reaching a goal.
What are the minefields:
1. Cost. My congregation was faced with an opportunity for an educational event for both me and 2-4 leaders from the congregation. I won't go into all of variables for attending, only that attending is about as close to being a "need" without actually being a need. The event is semi-annual, with the next event gathering in Houston, Texas. Round-trip airfare, tuition, hotel and other expenses, we were probably looking at $2-4K to make that trip. I pondered the opportunity cost for that trip for several weeks. I go to the training because it's part of my job, and the training does have value. For others, I'm asking individuals in my congregation to invest at least 4 days away from work and family.
2. Efficacy. I have heard some great theologians, teachers, leaders and preachers over the years at educational events. Some presentations were a waste of time. Sometimes this was the speaker's fault (delivery, under prepared), sometimes it was mine (I can have a bad attitude), sometimes it was the planner(s) of the event. Sometimes the responsibility is shared. Some speakers had a profound effect on me during that particular moment--it was something I needed to hear. I didn't necessarily require that person's words would profoundly change my life every day for the next 10 years, only that their insight was part of my overall sustenance and encouragement. It's like a feast. Feasts everyday can lose their meaning over time. Occasionally shared, feasts are the spice of life. I think about this when I reflect on events where I've heard Will Willimon, Sandra Day O'Connor, Martin Marty, and Maya Angelou. These kind of speakers draw people to come to conferences. These are wise people, and their words can be helpful and insightful. However, in my experience, these kinds of events don't necessarily elicit much change in my work. From some learning events I have returned home with some books, a binder full of materials, or have my email inbox filled with Power Points and documents. Rarely do I look at these documents ever again. That may be just as much about my habits as it is about educational philosophy, but I also know that I am not alone in owning a bookshelf loaded with books, boxes and binders holding the dusty hope of personal and organizational renewal.
After attending Unconference11 in May, the minefields of education became clearer to me about how I would invest learning time and resources in the future. Rock star quality speakers are not required (but hey, if they want to come and participate like everyone else, great!).
Where are the opportunities?
Connecting communication technologies (social media, blogs, web) provide key components to any learning and change opportunity. Learning is just as much about relationships as it is information. This is not an educational newsflash--many educational approaches gain leverage through relationships. However, I have observed that in church circles, there's still a lot of weight placed in bringing a big name speaker and implicitly inflicting death by Power Point for an educational event. The problem is, if I want the material I gain to truly take root, there needs to be relationship networks ready and available to take my enthusiasm as a convert and weave it in to the fabric of my life. #Unco11 #Unco12 #chsocm (specific Twitter linked communities) have provided access and friendships with other learners so that I gain support, insight, challenge, and an opportunity to share as well.
As I look at the minefields and opportunities for goal reaching in continuing education for pastors and congregations, I fear testing my own theories. I want to host an educational event. I believe that communication strategies for pastors and congregations are important in their work of sharing the Good News of Jesus. I don't need to host a big top event. It's time to trust the relationships I have built and that God will be present in not only where two or three are gathered, but will gather again as the relationships continue.
What are the minefields:
1. Cost. My congregation was faced with an opportunity for an educational event for both me and 2-4 leaders from the congregation. I won't go into all of variables for attending, only that attending is about as close to being a "need" without actually being a need. The event is semi-annual, with the next event gathering in Houston, Texas. Round-trip airfare, tuition, hotel and other expenses, we were probably looking at $2-4K to make that trip. I pondered the opportunity cost for that trip for several weeks. I go to the training because it's part of my job, and the training does have value. For others, I'm asking individuals in my congregation to invest at least 4 days away from work and family.
2. Efficacy. I have heard some great theologians, teachers, leaders and preachers over the years at educational events. Some presentations were a waste of time. Sometimes this was the speaker's fault (delivery, under prepared), sometimes it was mine (I can have a bad attitude), sometimes it was the planner(s) of the event. Sometimes the responsibility is shared. Some speakers had a profound effect on me during that particular moment--it was something I needed to hear. I didn't necessarily require that person's words would profoundly change my life every day for the next 10 years, only that their insight was part of my overall sustenance and encouragement. It's like a feast. Feasts everyday can lose their meaning over time. Occasionally shared, feasts are the spice of life. I think about this when I reflect on events where I've heard Will Willimon, Sandra Day O'Connor, Martin Marty, and Maya Angelou. These kind of speakers draw people to come to conferences. These are wise people, and their words can be helpful and insightful. However, in my experience, these kinds of events don't necessarily elicit much change in my work. From some learning events I have returned home with some books, a binder full of materials, or have my email inbox filled with Power Points and documents. Rarely do I look at these documents ever again. That may be just as much about my habits as it is about educational philosophy, but I also know that I am not alone in owning a bookshelf loaded with books, boxes and binders holding the dusty hope of personal and organizational renewal.
After attending Unconference11 in May, the minefields of education became clearer to me about how I would invest learning time and resources in the future. Rock star quality speakers are not required (but hey, if they want to come and participate like everyone else, great!).
Where are the opportunities?
Connecting communication technologies (social media, blogs, web) provide key components to any learning and change opportunity. Learning is just as much about relationships as it is information. This is not an educational newsflash--many educational approaches gain leverage through relationships. However, I have observed that in church circles, there's still a lot of weight placed in bringing a big name speaker and implicitly inflicting death by Power Point for an educational event. The problem is, if I want the material I gain to truly take root, there needs to be relationship networks ready and available to take my enthusiasm as a convert and weave it in to the fabric of my life. #Unco11 #Unco12 #chsocm (specific Twitter linked communities) have provided access and friendships with other learners so that I gain support, insight, challenge, and an opportunity to share as well.
As I look at the minefields and opportunities for goal reaching in continuing education for pastors and congregations, I fear testing my own theories. I want to host an educational event. I believe that communication strategies for pastors and congregations are important in their work of sharing the Good News of Jesus. I don't need to host a big top event. It's time to trust the relationships I have built and that God will be present in not only where two or three are gathered, but will gather again as the relationships continue.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Jesus & the Common Denominator on Taxes (Mt. 22:15-22)
Jesus talks about topics that are the fodder for news talk shows of all stripes. How is a follower of Jesus to think about taxes? Citizens of nations have debated tax structures for thousands of years, and Jesus doesn't engage in the debate. Why is that?
Sermon Sample Sunday: Jesus and the Common Denominator on Taxes
When we read the Bible together, sometimes we have to do some interpretation gymnastics. None of us probably own any oxen, nor do we have many wives, own a vineyard, or use mustard seeds (most of what I know about mustard is from Gulden's and French's).
But taxes? I pay taxes and you pay taxes. Despite the direction of public discourse, we all pay taxes in some form. Is it right to pay taxes? Is it fair to pay taxes? How is tax money collected? How is tax money distributed? In our lesson from Matthew today, I found myself excited studying this passage. Jesus addresses a question about taxes. Finally. An opportunity to talk about something near and dear to our hearts. Our wallets. It doesn't matter whether we have a lot or a little money in our wallets, we think about them. If Jesus is going to talk about taxes, then we'll have some answers about taxes. Right?
Answers are desired these days, because anger surrounded taxes is at a generational high. Since the Gallup organization started collecting data about satisfaction with Congress in 1974, that percentage of satisfaction has never been lower at 13%. Regardless of party affiliation or age, people don't like what's going on in Congress, and directly or indirectly, what Congress does is related to taxes.
Over the past year or so, different groups (Tea Party, #occupy groups) have taken to the streets to proclaim dissatisfaction with the tax structure. Some have ideas what to do with the tax structure, others only want to let the rest of the country know they're angry.
Jesus' story communicates something that should resonate with his followers regardless of with what strain of dissatisfaction the observer sympathizes in society today. Jesus meets people who are trying to set a trap for him on the prickly subject of taxes. In the bigger picture, Jesus is talking about relationship with the empire, and taxes are the contact point of that relationship.
Give to Caesar what is Caesar's give to God what is God's.
We could go on and on about division of possession.
The key thought upon this division of possessions came from Russell Rathbun, a pastor in St. Paul. The empire cannot love you.
We have a relationship with an empire each and every day. We benefit from roads, schools, fire departments, police forces, military, parks, clean water to drink, and many other things. These associations are generally voluntary. However, the rub with empire is that the authority acts on our behalf sometimes against our wishes, but seemingly only for the good of the ruling authority--which is the definition of empire. Regardless of whether the empire's actions give us benefits or leads to anger, and we're able to get the empire to do what we want (and how likely is that?), the empire cannot love us. Jesus' response doesn't seem to call into question the existence of the empire. Jesus is nonplussed by the entrapping question. How could something like the empire deserve so much of our energy when it can't give love? Our baptism reminds us where the source of our love is, and where our investment belongs.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
But taxes? I pay taxes and you pay taxes. Despite the direction of public discourse, we all pay taxes in some form. Is it right to pay taxes? Is it fair to pay taxes? How is tax money collected? How is tax money distributed? In our lesson from Matthew today, I found myself excited studying this passage. Jesus addresses a question about taxes. Finally. An opportunity to talk about something near and dear to our hearts. Our wallets. It doesn't matter whether we have a lot or a little money in our wallets, we think about them. If Jesus is going to talk about taxes, then we'll have some answers about taxes. Right?
Answers are desired these days, because anger surrounded taxes is at a generational high. Since the Gallup organization started collecting data about satisfaction with Congress in 1974, that percentage of satisfaction has never been lower at 13%. Regardless of party affiliation or age, people don't like what's going on in Congress, and directly or indirectly, what Congress does is related to taxes.
Over the past year or so, different groups (Tea Party, #occupy groups) have taken to the streets to proclaim dissatisfaction with the tax structure. Some have ideas what to do with the tax structure, others only want to let the rest of the country know they're angry.
Jesus' story communicates something that should resonate with his followers regardless of with what strain of dissatisfaction the observer sympathizes in society today. Jesus meets people who are trying to set a trap for him on the prickly subject of taxes. In the bigger picture, Jesus is talking about relationship with the empire, and taxes are the contact point of that relationship.
Give to Caesar what is Caesar's give to God what is God's.
We could go on and on about division of possession.
The key thought upon this division of possessions came from Russell Rathbun, a pastor in St. Paul. The empire cannot love you.
We have a relationship with an empire each and every day. We benefit from roads, schools, fire departments, police forces, military, parks, clean water to drink, and many other things. These associations are generally voluntary. However, the rub with empire is that the authority acts on our behalf sometimes against our wishes, but seemingly only for the good of the ruling authority--which is the definition of empire. Regardless of whether the empire's actions give us benefits or leads to anger, and we're able to get the empire to do what we want (and how likely is that?), the empire cannot love us. Jesus' response doesn't seem to call into question the existence of the empire. Jesus is nonplussed by the entrapping question. How could something like the empire deserve so much of our energy when it can't give love? Our baptism reminds us where the source of our love is, and where our investment belongs.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:18th Pl SW,Federal Way,United States
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Where is the Social Media Gap for the Church?
My tradition has a language problem.
When I surveyed (non-scientific) sister congregations (Mainline/Oldline Protestant) in the Pacific Northwest, I discovered that social media use was often spotty, lacking intention or strategy. What gives?
From personal experience and interaction with colleagues, I see that congregations have overworked and underpaid staff and clergy. Volunteers have limited time resources. Social media seems like just another thing to do. Many programs, ideas and fads have come along; "Church Revitalization In A Box" inspires initial excitement, only to sit on a shelf and gather dust. The church rummage sale comes along years later, people look at the box and wonder for a few moments about what could have been. Then they attempt to sell or give away something where thousands of dollars worth of time, resources and dreams invested.
The big difference with social media is that it represents a shift in communication method. We're not dealing with technique or infrastructure in the classical sense. We are dealing with basic communication of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Though social media will continue to change, its place in history will look like the telephone or personal computer.
At this point, you may think I am preaching to the choir. If you're reading a blog, it's likely you already place value in social media. From the perspective of a small or medium-sized congregation (for discussion purposes, 400 or less in worship) social media may look like anything else that has been marketed to a congregations for decades. Buy this, or do this, get trained in this and it will change your church.
I don't make any promises with social media. Social media can only reflect the basic practices of connecting with God and building community that are already present in congregational life. But the scars of the church growth movement for smaller congregations reveal that trying a new thing leads only to disappointment and envy; smaller congregations don't often have the resources to make an investment mistake.
The blessing of social media lies in that the infrastructure to participate is likely present. The gap that needs to be bridged is that small and medium sized congregations not already using social media can focus on specific "best" practices that can amplify what ministry is already being shared in that context. Without using the tools that are available, we lose our ability to participate in the public sphere in the name of Christ. It is my hope that I can share conversations with my fellow small and medium sized congregations about how we can collectively leverage social media to share what God is already doing among us. We need to be adept at language in order to do that. Language was a pillar of the Reformation, and that pillar remains just as important today.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
When I surveyed (non-scientific) sister congregations (Mainline/Oldline Protestant) in the Pacific Northwest, I discovered that social media use was often spotty, lacking intention or strategy. What gives?
From personal experience and interaction with colleagues, I see that congregations have overworked and underpaid staff and clergy. Volunteers have limited time resources. Social media seems like just another thing to do. Many programs, ideas and fads have come along; "Church Revitalization In A Box" inspires initial excitement, only to sit on a shelf and gather dust. The church rummage sale comes along years later, people look at the box and wonder for a few moments about what could have been. Then they attempt to sell or give away something where thousands of dollars worth of time, resources and dreams invested.
The big difference with social media is that it represents a shift in communication method. We're not dealing with technique or infrastructure in the classical sense. We are dealing with basic communication of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Though social media will continue to change, its place in history will look like the telephone or personal computer.
At this point, you may think I am preaching to the choir. If you're reading a blog, it's likely you already place value in social media. From the perspective of a small or medium-sized congregation (for discussion purposes, 400 or less in worship) social media may look like anything else that has been marketed to a congregations for decades. Buy this, or do this, get trained in this and it will change your church.
I don't make any promises with social media. Social media can only reflect the basic practices of connecting with God and building community that are already present in congregational life. But the scars of the church growth movement for smaller congregations reveal that trying a new thing leads only to disappointment and envy; smaller congregations don't often have the resources to make an investment mistake.
The blessing of social media lies in that the infrastructure to participate is likely present. The gap that needs to be bridged is that small and medium sized congregations not already using social media can focus on specific "best" practices that can amplify what ministry is already being shared in that context. Without using the tools that are available, we lose our ability to participate in the public sphere in the name of Christ. It is my hope that I can share conversations with my fellow small and medium sized congregations about how we can collectively leverage social media to share what God is already doing among us. We need to be adept at language in order to do that. Language was a pillar of the Reformation, and that pillar remains just as important today.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:59th Ave SW,Lakewood,United States
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Congregational Stewardship Not Made In October
I don't need to look at a calendar, or even the weather to know the time of year.
Direct mail campaigns from public broadcasting, food ministries, charities and congregations let me know that I might miss my opportunity for a tax deductible donation unless I place a check or my debit card number on an envelope and mail it to that given organization (even easier to do online, and the organization would be glad to set up automatic payments). Often included with the envelope are statistics, facts or photos to remind me of the worthiness of investment.
I feel a little slimier each year during a congregational stewardship campaign. Why?
Too often, pastors will speak about money because it appeases council/board members who are worried about the budget (for good reason) and it presses leaders toward knee jerk reactions in October.
Stewardship is not made in October.
October and stewardship have strong links in my tradition. I remember early on in my ordained life that I appreciated talking about stewardship in congregational life (I still do), not only because I have received good mentoring and teaching on the subject, but also because I have received so much from God and God's people. I want to live my life as a thankful person, and October seems an especially good time to say it. Programs are gearing up, there is a renewed energy toward learning, people are returning from their summer outings and appreciate the reconnection with friends. We have images from our history (and in rural communities, real and present) about the autumnal harvest time that inspire us about resource gathering.
Emphasizing relationships is a popular trend in this day and age of the church. One doesn't have to go far in my tradition before someone says, "it's all about relationships." Stewardship is also a reflection on the relative quality of relationships. A fall campaign for pledges doesn't mean much without relationships with God and others throughout the year. I say relative, because my late grandmother used to give money to television ministries. Why? They were with her in her home when she was home bound. At the time I couldn't understand why she would give a portion of her fixed income to TV preachers, but it makes sense. They were the presence of God to her. Their request matched their relationship. That relationship didn't seem like high quality to me, but to her, that ministry meant much.
It takes prayerful and faithful attention to strengthen relationships. There is no "Relationship In A Box" program with October crescendo that will spiritually produce a 7% budget increase. Without strengthening relationships with God and others, an October stewardship appeal doesn't mean much. People will invest their resources on what they value. Invest in relationships with God. Invest in relationships with others.
What is it in your community of faith that prevents that investment in relationships from happening? Share your comments, and these roadblocks will be covered in future posts.
Direct mail campaigns from public broadcasting, food ministries, charities and congregations let me know that I might miss my opportunity for a tax deductible donation unless I place a check or my debit card number on an envelope and mail it to that given organization (even easier to do online, and the organization would be glad to set up automatic payments). Often included with the envelope are statistics, facts or photos to remind me of the worthiness of investment.
I feel a little slimier each year during a congregational stewardship campaign. Why?
- Not because I fear speaking about money like a preacher might be afraid to utter a four-letter word from a pulpit.
- Not because I am afraid that people will be cantankerous about frequently asking for "their" money.
- Not because it feels strange asking people on fixed incomes to increase their giving so I can have my annual raise.
- It takes $______________________ to keep the heat on during the winter.
- If each household gave $______________________ more per month, we'd be able to meet our goal.
- The congregation is failing, and people aren't giving enough.
- Look at this congregational box score, our giving is bad.
- The church needs the money.
Too often, pastors will speak about money because it appeases council/board members who are worried about the budget (for good reason) and it presses leaders toward knee jerk reactions in October.
Stewardship is not made in October.
October and stewardship have strong links in my tradition. I remember early on in my ordained life that I appreciated talking about stewardship in congregational life (I still do), not only because I have received good mentoring and teaching on the subject, but also because I have received so much from God and God's people. I want to live my life as a thankful person, and October seems an especially good time to say it. Programs are gearing up, there is a renewed energy toward learning, people are returning from their summer outings and appreciate the reconnection with friends. We have images from our history (and in rural communities, real and present) about the autumnal harvest time that inspire us about resource gathering.
Emphasizing relationships is a popular trend in this day and age of the church. One doesn't have to go far in my tradition before someone says, "it's all about relationships." Stewardship is also a reflection on the relative quality of relationships. A fall campaign for pledges doesn't mean much without relationships with God and others throughout the year. I say relative, because my late grandmother used to give money to television ministries. Why? They were with her in her home when she was home bound. At the time I couldn't understand why she would give a portion of her fixed income to TV preachers, but it makes sense. They were the presence of God to her. Their request matched their relationship. That relationship didn't seem like high quality to me, but to her, that ministry meant much.
It takes prayerful and faithful attention to strengthen relationships. There is no "Relationship In A Box" program with October crescendo that will spiritually produce a 7% budget increase. Without strengthening relationships with God and others, an October stewardship appeal doesn't mean much. People will invest their resources on what they value. Invest in relationships with God. Invest in relationships with others.
What is it in your community of faith that prevents that investment in relationships from happening? Share your comments, and these roadblocks will be covered in future posts.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Struggling with an if-then life (Philppians 4: 1-9)
It's common in community and as individuals to look at our lives and say, "If I can make this happen, if I can buy this, if I can get this job, if my spouse can do this, if my children can behave in this way, if the church got this kind of pastor, if the carpet was replaced, if we had this kind of musician, if (fill in the blank), THEN things will be good." Paul, even though he was a champion of the church, didn't see things that way. Even in the most unfavorable of conditions (like prison), Paul found his joy in the God who went the greatest of lengths (even to death) to love the people of the world. To ween ourselves off of the unsatisfying desperation of an if-then life, recognizing our connection to God is paramount. Worship, Bible study, and encouraging Christian friendships are essential.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Sermon Sample Sunday: Congregational Vitality is not an Either/Or Proposition (Philippians 4:1-9)
When congregations are experiencing decline or upheaval, the temptation is to turn inward. People will "navel gaze" and turn their attention toward their own concerns. "If we get our act together--organize our committees properly, get our budget in order, settle a few disputes, fix a few things in the building (that carpet is threadbare, by the way) then we'll be able to get things going in the church."
Congregational vitality is not an if/then equation. Nor is it for individuals. People are often lured into a understanding that says, if I buy this, if I get this job, if my spouse will only do this, if my children behave like this, then I will be happy. Dr. Phil likes to say to his listeners, "How's that working for you?"
In the Apostle Paul's letter to the community at Philippi, Paul lets them know that their happiness is not linked to what they strive for, but their joy is in God. This doesn't mean I am against striving. The statement is about where one finds joy. But this notion of joy from Paul is weird. I have a hard time finding joy in some of the most joyous circumstances. I can easily get crabby on a sunny day. Here is Paul, writing from prison, talking about joy. This is not merely a happy-clappy posture that Paul is taking on. This is not a case of avoiding "stinkin' thinkin'," but Paul links joy and the community being "in the Lord" and being together in one mind, referencing a situation in the community where there may be a lack of harmony between two of Paul's fellow athletes (a different translation of verse 3).
There is another either/or we confront in this portion of Paul's letter. The work of spreading the Good News outside of the community does not stop because of internal community strife. Paul's athletic reference may be helpful here. It may take a long time to become physically fit, but it doesn't take long to get out of shape. Our outward focus takes just as much work as our inward focus, and each direction of our attention informs one another.
Congregational vitality is not an if/then equation. Nor is it for individuals. People are often lured into a understanding that says, if I buy this, if I get this job, if my spouse will only do this, if my children behave like this, then I will be happy. Dr. Phil likes to say to his listeners, "How's that working for you?"
In the Apostle Paul's letter to the community at Philippi, Paul lets them know that their happiness is not linked to what they strive for, but their joy is in God. This doesn't mean I am against striving. The statement is about where one finds joy. But this notion of joy from Paul is weird. I have a hard time finding joy in some of the most joyous circumstances. I can easily get crabby on a sunny day. Here is Paul, writing from prison, talking about joy. This is not merely a happy-clappy posture that Paul is taking on. This is not a case of avoiding "stinkin' thinkin'," but Paul links joy and the community being "in the Lord" and being together in one mind, referencing a situation in the community where there may be a lack of harmony between two of Paul's fellow athletes (a different translation of verse 3).
There is another either/or we confront in this portion of Paul's letter. The work of spreading the Good News outside of the community does not stop because of internal community strife. Paul's athletic reference may be helpful here. It may take a long time to become physically fit, but it doesn't take long to get out of shape. Our outward focus takes just as much work as our inward focus, and each direction of our attention informs one another.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Friday Arts Y.A.P.: How long must the show go on?
The infamous tag for any television show is when it "jumps the shark."
The story line becomes tired. Characters that once compelled viewers to consider their own existence become caricatures of well-worn societal generalizations (the lovable loser father, the control freak mother, the driven urban professional). Writers resort to outlandish gimmicks in order to keep eyes on the show (which generally leads to advertising dollars). The Arthur Fonzarelli character on Happy Days executed a water ski jump over shark-infested waters. The gimmick signaled the end of the show, and become an idiom for the end of other production runs.
The Simpsons series has lasted well over 20 seasons, not necessarily because its characters remain compelling, but their interactions provide a context for good social commentary. The Simpsons is not as edgy as it used to be, but it doesn't have to be; the social commentary remains sharp to this day. It is possible that the characters are not capable of delivering the edge that they once did. It's not exactly revolutionary to have a smart-mouthed boy deliver insight anymore. South Park raised the smart-mouthed boy insight bar by staying off of major networks and by staying more current in its commentary.
I've found myself more attracted to shows these days with tighter story lines that can take more risks. Breaking Bad is a great example of a tight story line that will end without jumping the shark. Breaking Bad will end after 5 seasons with its fans wanting more. I love how this show has wrestled with death, human nature, vocation, and societal veneer. I'm sure some copycats will emerge, much like the new show Pan Am is related to Mad Men.
It's hard for me as a pastor to not look for links between life in my vocation and what I see in many kinds of cultural expression. I come away from the issue of longevity and television wondering if it's a good thing for a congregation to last hundreds of years. I can't deny that there's something about a church spire that pierces the skyline from a majestic building that communicates the transcendance of God--a place where truth and beauty meet. These builidings and congregations sometimes have longstanding trust with their communities. However, it's hard to avoid the downside of these institutions; they often become museums, albatrosses to living faith.
I think it would take great courage for a congregation to end its ministry after 20 years; it would take great courage to say--it's been a good run, we've proclaimed Christ, we've served our neighbor. Let's break this up before we jump the shark. Let's take the assets and gifts, and provide the fertilizer for something else to grow. It's not about our legacy, but about Jesus. It was hard not to think about this as Paul regarded all of his privilege, pedigree and accomplishment as rubbish in last week's reading from Philippians 3. How much of our desire for our congregations is about maintaining our own legacy and dodging mortality rather than sharing Christ?
How long must our own show go on?
The story line becomes tired. Characters that once compelled viewers to consider their own existence become caricatures of well-worn societal generalizations (the lovable loser father, the control freak mother, the driven urban professional). Writers resort to outlandish gimmicks in order to keep eyes on the show (which generally leads to advertising dollars). The Arthur Fonzarelli character on Happy Days executed a water ski jump over shark-infested waters. The gimmick signaled the end of the show, and become an idiom for the end of other production runs.
The Simpsons series has lasted well over 20 seasons, not necessarily because its characters remain compelling, but their interactions provide a context for good social commentary. The Simpsons is not as edgy as it used to be, but it doesn't have to be; the social commentary remains sharp to this day. It is possible that the characters are not capable of delivering the edge that they once did. It's not exactly revolutionary to have a smart-mouthed boy deliver insight anymore. South Park raised the smart-mouthed boy insight bar by staying off of major networks and by staying more current in its commentary.
I've found myself more attracted to shows these days with tighter story lines that can take more risks. Breaking Bad is a great example of a tight story line that will end without jumping the shark. Breaking Bad will end after 5 seasons with its fans wanting more. I love how this show has wrestled with death, human nature, vocation, and societal veneer. I'm sure some copycats will emerge, much like the new show Pan Am is related to Mad Men.
It's hard for me as a pastor to not look for links between life in my vocation and what I see in many kinds of cultural expression. I come away from the issue of longevity and television wondering if it's a good thing for a congregation to last hundreds of years. I can't deny that there's something about a church spire that pierces the skyline from a majestic building that communicates the transcendance of God--a place where truth and beauty meet. These builidings and congregations sometimes have longstanding trust with their communities. However, it's hard to avoid the downside of these institutions; they often become museums, albatrosses to living faith.
I think it would take great courage for a congregation to end its ministry after 20 years; it would take great courage to say--it's been a good run, we've proclaimed Christ, we've served our neighbor. Let's break this up before we jump the shark. Let's take the assets and gifts, and provide the fertilizer for something else to grow. It's not about our legacy, but about Jesus. It was hard not to think about this as Paul regarded all of his privilege, pedigree and accomplishment as rubbish in last week's reading from Philippians 3. How much of our desire for our congregations is about maintaining our own legacy and dodging mortality rather than sharing Christ?
How long must our own show go on?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Steve Jobs gave me early lessons in branding & creativity
There's no way I'm going to out geek the Apple geeks in their laments and thanksgivings for the life of Steve Jobs.
My life is better because Jobs shared his creativity in a way that inspired me to be creative. He gave (well, sold) me tools that helped me see in a concrete way what is possible. For all of the technical things I can't do, I can use a tool that gives me access to the world.
In the summer of 1979, I had the opportunity to go to computer camp. I had a good year of math in school (makes me wonder what happened later on), so I qualified for a camp in Seattle. I learned and played on computers for the first time in my life. That computer was an Apple II. I have since used Apple computers and products with a tech exclusivity since then (with some brief use of what was available to me at work--ugh). The camp was a lesson in branding. Show a 9-year old an experience and a logo, and you have them for life.
Apple products remind me something of what I hope for in the church--a point where the gifts of God are amplified. The problem with the PC for world with me was that I had to know something special in order to participate. With Apple, I could always jump right in. I know Jobs had something to do with that--an amazing combination of talent, skill and vision that has accompanied me in my life for 32 years. It will be interesting to see where Apple goes from here. But today, I give thanks for what Steve Jobs shared with the world.
Post Script--One thing I recognize about Apple products is their high cost. Jobs wasn't running a ministry or a charity. He developed products that people wanted and were willing to spend money to acquire. I have the financial means to be able to use these tools that Jobs' leadership helped create. Access is always a tenuous variable. Bill Gates' company spread computer use throughout the world with lower prices and the pervasiveness of their distribution chain. Access seemed limited because one seemed to require special knowledge to use PCs effectively. Jobs and Apple created higher priced products that were easier to use (I remember an ad campaign for Apple "the one that gets used"). This conglomeration of variables reminds me that barriers to access are everywhere, and we all seem to have different abilities to overcome them. But we all die eventually. The great equalizer.
My life is better because Jobs shared his creativity in a way that inspired me to be creative. He gave (well, sold) me tools that helped me see in a concrete way what is possible. For all of the technical things I can't do, I can use a tool that gives me access to the world.
In the summer of 1979, I had the opportunity to go to computer camp. I had a good year of math in school (makes me wonder what happened later on), so I qualified for a camp in Seattle. I learned and played on computers for the first time in my life. That computer was an Apple II. I have since used Apple computers and products with a tech exclusivity since then (with some brief use of what was available to me at work--ugh). The camp was a lesson in branding. Show a 9-year old an experience and a logo, and you have them for life.
Apple products remind me something of what I hope for in the church--a point where the gifts of God are amplified. The problem with the PC for world with me was that I had to know something special in order to participate. With Apple, I could always jump right in. I know Jobs had something to do with that--an amazing combination of talent, skill and vision that has accompanied me in my life for 32 years. It will be interesting to see where Apple goes from here. But today, I give thanks for what Steve Jobs shared with the world.
Post Script--One thing I recognize about Apple products is their high cost. Jobs wasn't running a ministry or a charity. He developed products that people wanted and were willing to spend money to acquire. I have the financial means to be able to use these tools that Jobs' leadership helped create. Access is always a tenuous variable. Bill Gates' company spread computer use throughout the world with lower prices and the pervasiveness of their distribution chain. Access seemed limited because one seemed to require special knowledge to use PCs effectively. Jobs and Apple created higher priced products that were easier to use (I remember an ad campaign for Apple "the one that gets used"). This conglomeration of variables reminds me that barriers to access are everywhere, and we all seem to have different abilities to overcome them. But we all die eventually. The great equalizer.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Am I the Sum of my Accomplishments? (Philippians 3:3b-14)
Sermon audio from St. John's Lutheran Church, Lakewood, WA, October 2, 2011.
We humans tend to place effort and priority on what is "mine." The subject never really changes for us, only the object. It goes from things in our childhood (sometimes adulthood) to accomplishments during adulthood and eventually legacy toward life's end. It's tough to learn what is enough. Good thing that God's claim of "mine" on you is the most powerful claim of all.
We humans tend to place effort and priority on what is "mine." The subject never really changes for us, only the object. It goes from things in our childhood (sometimes adulthood) to accomplishments during adulthood and eventually legacy toward life's end. It's tough to learn what is enough. Good thing that God's claim of "mine" on you is the most powerful claim of all.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Sermon Sample Sunday: Am I really the sum of my accomplishments?
When my children were toddlers, in early months of understandable speech, I welcomed each new word in their vocabularies with joy. Even the word "mine."
Mine is a curious word, because it stirs passion. Our possessions mean something to us. But mine also reveals some of our greatest shortcomings as human beings. After welcoming the word with joy, I realized how difficult it would be to teach sharing to my children. The response to almost any interaction with my toddlers at the time was "mine!" Even with a filled diaper.
If the only barrier to sharing was child-like immaturity. I also realized I'm not the greatest sharer in the world, either. Some things are easier to share than others. Sometimes when Jesus shares something of himself, even his very life, it's easy for me to say, "Well, that's Jesus. Certainly admirable. Certainly something to strive for. But impossible for me."
Paul in his words from Philippians 3 regards all of his pedigrees and accomplishments as garbage. His identity is in Christ. When it gets down to it, I know that my identity is not in my possessions. They come and go. But my memories? My accomplishments? My pedigrees? Sure, some of those memories and "accomplishments" I would like to let go. There's that my/mine word again. Seems I haven't progressed past my toddler years as much as I thought.
The point is not that I flog myself about the good things that have come my way in life. I can even find some joy in them. But that cannot be where my identity is, lest I forget how many people have come together in order that I experience that joy. My identity is in God who claimed my life in Christ. I may never get over my impulse to mark territory and proclaim "mine." Good thing God's claim on me (and) you as "mine" is the most powerful claim of all.
Mine is a curious word, because it stirs passion. Our possessions mean something to us. But mine also reveals some of our greatest shortcomings as human beings. After welcoming the word with joy, I realized how difficult it would be to teach sharing to my children. The response to almost any interaction with my toddlers at the time was "mine!" Even with a filled diaper.
If the only barrier to sharing was child-like immaturity. I also realized I'm not the greatest sharer in the world, either. Some things are easier to share than others. Sometimes when Jesus shares something of himself, even his very life, it's easy for me to say, "Well, that's Jesus. Certainly admirable. Certainly something to strive for. But impossible for me."
Paul in his words from Philippians 3 regards all of his pedigrees and accomplishments as garbage. His identity is in Christ. When it gets down to it, I know that my identity is not in my possessions. They come and go. But my memories? My accomplishments? My pedigrees? Sure, some of those memories and "accomplishments" I would like to let go. There's that my/mine word again. Seems I haven't progressed past my toddler years as much as I thought.
The point is not that I flog myself about the good things that have come my way in life. I can even find some joy in them. But that cannot be where my identity is, lest I forget how many people have come together in order that I experience that joy. My identity is in God who claimed my life in Christ. I may never get over my impulse to mark territory and proclaim "mine." Good thing God's claim on me (and) you as "mine" is the most powerful claim of all.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Saturday Sports Y.A.P.: Where to fight the battles
During my first few Sundays serving a congregation, I learned the importance of the Green Bay Packers.
I discovered within the first few months in my congregation that if the service time came close to kick off, people would get up and leave to go watch the Packers. It didn't matter what was on the church schedule, Bible study, coffee hour, a fellowship event, or worship. I remember one Sunday in the middle of Holy Communion, someone said "Packer game," and about 5-10 people got up to leave. I was caught off guard, yet wanted to learn about this cultural dynamic. I came to admire that people didn't blow off church completely before a Packer game, which would have been easy to do.
Any pastor should be aware of local culture, which can include any way that people gather and invest their time in family, friends, hobbies, vocation, or in gatherings of people. Any pastor who believes they can facilitate community by attacking what people do outside church, they are fooling themselves.
I walked around Wisconsin towns and learned about the extent of Packer culture. I saw a Packer Jeep, Packer riding lawn mowers, pastors who owned Packer stoles, the Packer Pope and the coup de grace, for when a Packer fan leaves this world--the Packer casket. I shouldn't have been surprised that people would leave during Communion for a Packer game.
I've been known on occasion to elevate a sporting contest on my priority list. Who is to say where something belongs on a priority list? We all have our split allegiances. The question becomes, what is really under my control? In a congregational community I feel it's my responsibility that people get the most out of their time investment. I can control meetings starting and ending on time. My sermon can be well-prepared and get to the point. I can offer something of value for daily living when I teach. I can be thankful when people invest their time. I can offer encouragement for people in their toils. The greatest battle is often in myself. It's easier to blame split allegiances, but I have just as many as the next person.
Why do people give their allegiance to a sporting event or sports team? If you go to a sporting event, there's something liturgical about it...Go! Seahawks! Go! Huskies! Go! Packers! Each side of the stadium has their role. Sometimes the congregation at the stadium will break into song.
The brilliance of some theologians and missionaries is that they recognized that God is already at work in their communities, and it's not the preacher/missionary/theologian's responsibility to bring God to a particular location, but recognize the places where God is already at work. Sometimes that might even be in a stadium.
I discovered within the first few months in my congregation that if the service time came close to kick off, people would get up and leave to go watch the Packers. It didn't matter what was on the church schedule, Bible study, coffee hour, a fellowship event, or worship. I remember one Sunday in the middle of Holy Communion, someone said "Packer game," and about 5-10 people got up to leave. I was caught off guard, yet wanted to learn about this cultural dynamic. I came to admire that people didn't blow off church completely before a Packer game, which would have been easy to do.
Any pastor should be aware of local culture, which can include any way that people gather and invest their time in family, friends, hobbies, vocation, or in gatherings of people. Any pastor who believes they can facilitate community by attacking what people do outside church, they are fooling themselves.
I walked around Wisconsin towns and learned about the extent of Packer culture. I saw a Packer Jeep, Packer riding lawn mowers, pastors who owned Packer stoles, the Packer Pope and the coup de grace, for when a Packer fan leaves this world--the Packer casket. I shouldn't have been surprised that people would leave during Communion for a Packer game.
I've been known on occasion to elevate a sporting contest on my priority list. Who is to say where something belongs on a priority list? We all have our split allegiances. The question becomes, what is really under my control? In a congregational community I feel it's my responsibility that people get the most out of their time investment. I can control meetings starting and ending on time. My sermon can be well-prepared and get to the point. I can offer something of value for daily living when I teach. I can be thankful when people invest their time. I can offer encouragement for people in their toils. The greatest battle is often in myself. It's easier to blame split allegiances, but I have just as many as the next person.
Why do people give their allegiance to a sporting event or sports team? If you go to a sporting event, there's something liturgical about it...Go! Seahawks! Go! Huskies! Go! Packers! Each side of the stadium has their role. Sometimes the congregation at the stadium will break into song.
The brilliance of some theologians and missionaries is that they recognized that God is already at work in their communities, and it's not the preacher/missionary/theologian's responsibility to bring God to a particular location, but recognize the places where God is already at work. Sometimes that might even be in a stadium.
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