Praying for Wisdom and Mercy to do the Harder Things

(30,000 American flags in Boston Common, Boston, MA, in remembrance of the 30,000 Massachusetts soldiers whom have died in combat since the Civil War)

When military remembrance days fall on the calendar, I usually think of Granddad. His life was transformed by the military. Coming from a small town in Northeast Iowa, Jerry Zubrod joined the Navy, made some of the best friends of his life, met his sweetheart, and used his GI Bill. He became the first member of my family complete his college education (University of Washington).

Granddad didn't speak often of what he experienced, only occasionally with his military friends. So I grew up not really knowing much of war and military service.

Military remembrance days have taken on greater significance in our time, and we now have four days on a calendar that reflect that memory--September 11, November 11, July 4, and Memorial Day in May.

It doesn't seem that hard to me to host a parade, slap a bumper sticker on the car that says "Support the Troops," or 'like' a military-oriented post on Facebook.

It doesn't seem that hard to me to criticize The Military Industrial Complex. As the Information Age meets social media, it's even easy to voice protest about military action both home and abroad.

The challenge for people in the United States who follow Christ is to recognize all military personnel and their families as people made in the image of God. It's easy to hide behind ideologies, regardless of where you are on the continuum of understanding the military.

People and their families who serve in the military are not anyone's pawn. They are people of flesh, blood, and bone. The challenge for any ministry to military and their families is to be there. For people serving in active duty, and for families who pick up the pieces when a loved one dies serving, how can people be present, somehow sharing the faithfulness of God's love?

I consider care for military personnel and their families one of the greatest challenges in this season of ministry. Veterans come home and experience higher unemployment rates, divorce rates, suicides, and mental illness than the general population. I can't forget to mention those who were killed during their service. All of these things contribute to death, and it is the call of Christ to share love, and that means it takes on action and faithful presence.

Sure, I can do the easy things, and I pray for God's wisdom and mercy to join others in doing the harder things.

Today I think of Nathan Proctor blessed at St. John's Lutheran Church as he left for Afghanistan. I think of people who lost loved ones to military service, who knew something of the pangs felt by family he left behind. In the call of Christ, serving military and their families is not a ideological act, it is a response because we see people who are made in the image of God who are hurting. At St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, they are our neighbors.

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Location:W Squantum St,Quincy,United States

iPad Confessional and Reading Guilt

My reading life has been sacrificed at the altar of my iPad.

This glowing tablet of fingertip world hopping lured me in with its pretty colors and promises of a streamlined existence. My first hope with my iPad? Book storage.

I've moved so many times in interim ministry and worked out of an auto office that my books with real paper hurl insults at me. Yes, we must be moved again. You are a real spinal saboteur.

The iPad showed such promise--a place to store books! I used to lug cavernous containers, anything that could hold 10+ books. Laundry baskets, Rubbermaid bins, large duffles with industrial strength shoulder straps. I almost ran out of ideas, when I remembered Professor Paul Sponheim from Luther Seminary used to wheel his books (20-30 at a time) around on a hand truck. My frayed rotator cuffs found this prospect intriguing, but the iPad? Genius.

A little over a year into iPad ownership, I confess that most of my reading involves blogs and news feeds, with the occasional foray into digital editions of The Economist, The Week, NY Times, and Newsweek. I have approximately 30 e-books I have barely touched. Too often I would rather play Ticket to Ride than read. I don't know if it's because I'm too tired to screen read, or that screen reading is a different mental process.

Regardless of biology, something must change. First comes the purging of the games.

We'll see what happens next.

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Location:7th St SW,Washington,United States

Suspicious of the Balanced Life

I don't live a balanced life. The prevailing public discourse tells me this is a bad thing.

Find a balance, I am told.

But what is "balance"? Is it even possible? Who sets the calibration numbers for balance?

Like a lot of things, balance has become a product sold in the marketplace. If I don't have a particular product, then I should be anxious, so the marketplace tells me. I don't need another missing product in my life to stir anxiety in me. I am adept at reacting to artificial needs without someone telling me I need balance.

Maybe the best way to achieve this nebulous "balance," is not attempt to achieve balance at all.


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A Congregational Level Response To Carol Howard Merritt's "How Decisions Choke The Young"

Two important documents arrived on my electronic devices in the past 12 hours.

The first was Carol Howard Merritt's important piece on institutional decisions of the church and how those decisions affect younger generations.

The second was a new logo design for my congregation from a student at Pacific Lutheran University.

Howard Merritt offers several caveats for leaders to consider regarding the structures which in theory are intended to carve a legacy of passing on the faith. Yet, these decisions and structures may be cutting against the grain of that purpose.

A response to Howard Merritt's challenge will take some creative thinking and action, because many congregations and church structures have explored this medium over the past few decades. In both denominations and congregations, there is a common plea to "get youth involved."

The oft-marketed solution? Have people of younger generations sit at the table of church board rooms. In most circumstances, unless the young person is a serious bureaucracy geek, this action will only do more to alienate young people from the life of faith and the church, in addition the fissures in the church that Howard Merritt names. Though God may be able to redeem our atrophied bureaucracies, a few young bodies at a table will not. This is not to say that creative representation should not occur, but redemption costs more than a token.

Here's what the congregation I serve, St. John's Lutheran Church, is doing at a local level. I don't know if it works. But I do know the token approach does not work. I'm not merely going to hope that things change, but take action to change them.

St. John's is limited in traditional offerings for young people and young families. We don't have a Sunday School. We don't have a youth group. We don't have a young adult group. It's hard to learn that these realities are not deficits to lament, but openings to imagine. St. John's Lutheran Church can offer opportunities. We can offer encouragement. The approach is give local students opportunities to use their gifts in a public setting where they can be encouraged in their craft and loved for who they are (some of this approach was inspired by Carol's book and the work of colleague Bruce Reyes-Chow).

There are many paths to take to design a logo. I looked at different design companies and websites and learned about the design process. In the end, I met a graphic arts student from PLU, and through our conversations I could see that gift usage is paramount to changing the culture that Howard Merritt profiles. The student is designing our new logo, not merely in closed door meetings with me, but in conversation with the congregation. The vision is to offer "create your own internship" opportunities at St. John's where students can be valued for who they are, made in God's image, and given a platform to share their gifts with the world, with a foundation of relationships.

Carol Howard Merritt asks the church some excellent questions. My call to action? "How can we utilize our institutions’ resources in real ways for the support and innovation of the young?" Though the conversation must happen at all levels of the church, at St. John's we are addressing this question with a local approach.

Don't Write The Letter: Build A Bridge Instead

For many congregations, giving looks strong at the end of the calendar year and around Easter. Then, during the summer, those who pay attention are surprised when giving goes down. It's like people who are surprised that their children grow or that Christmas stealthily arrives on December 25th.

The Summer Slump Letter has been sent out to congregation members for decades, reminding people how important it is to keep up their giving during the summer months when traveling is more prevalent. The church becomes out of sight, out of mind for some people (so the theory goes).

The Summer Slump Letter (often accompanied by announcements during worship) corrodes community life in many ways.

1. The Letter is almost never merely a reminder about the importance of giving, it becomes a shame inducing document. The Letter frames a challenging resource curve as a failure of the givers in the congregation, not as a failure of congregational leaders to plan.
2. Often the only people who read The Letter are people who are highly invested in the life of the congregation. People who aren't invested would not read the letter anyway. Therefore, the people who have likely raised their giving receive a scolding and could easily interpret that what they are giving is not enough. Repeat this pattern summer after summer, and discouragement or disgust mounts.
3. Seth Godin takes another angle to the Summer Slump Letter philosophy. The pattern that produces the letter often begins early to mid-summer when giving starts to dip. Leadership boards then spend the rest of the summer attempting to address the dip. Worry accumulates momentum until the board feels like they have to do something. This 3-4 month pattern takes energy away from other things that leaders should be doing--focusing on mission rather than anxiety.

It's clear that economic, demographic, and sociological factors have changed the face of resourcing congregational mission. I have hope that events such as this one continue to sprout. Congregations and leaders are often too anxious to consider other options. Doing something has often been seen as having no cost. The resourcing patterns of the last few decades in congregations are wasted energy. Don't write The Letter. Pray. Think creatively, and build a bridge to resource congregational mission in the future.