Last month, I started podcasting my sermons (I apologize to any regular followers this week, tech difficulties prevented last Sunday's audio). This has forced me to listen to my recorded voice, which is far from a pleasant experience. Listening to my own voice bring memories from seminary to the surface.
Both of my preaching professors had distinct senses of humor, more so than my other professors. Maybe that's why they were preaching profs in the first place. It wasn't unusual for most of the burgeoning preachers to come in as a completely unformed slab of clay, waiting to be shaped. My teacher loved to offer quips about the art of shaping preachers. He used to say that the end of each academic year, he would travel to his lakeside cabin where it was completely quiet, and stand on his head for a week. He wanted all of the student sermons swimming around in his head to flow out of his brain, and out through his ears into the earth so he could come back in the fall to take in more sermons.
I couldn't ascertain whether my teacher called me Josephus because he had hope for me as a preacher, or that he was trying to make my name a little more interesting (I know the feeling). Toward the end of the term, he looked at me after one of my sermons and said to me, "Josephus, you have a voice that can weld." To this day, I'm not sure how to take that comment. Is my voice powerful? Does my voice bring metal together? Or is my sermon delivery as such that you need protective clothing and not look directly at it, lest you singe your retinas and/or flesh?
Putting sermons further out into the public sphere creates an interesting dynamic. Churches are public places; though as my teacher Pat Keifert has often said, we often treat our worship spaces like family homes rather than public places, much to our detriment. A message seems easier to control in the confines of a family home--but what of mission and the Great Commission?
Putting my sermons even more out in public still feels risky, especially when I'm trying to figure out if this welding voice of mine is a good thing or a bad thing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Showing posts with label worship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worship. Show all posts
Monday, September 12, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose--for the church. An ode to Friday Night Lights
Do you think Friday Night Lights is a show about football? Think again. Football is part of the story, but FNL is about relationships. A creative culture makes it happen.
FNL makes its last hurrah as a current television series this Friday night. I'm not sure I've mourned the end of a series as much as this one. I admire the show for its passion and its creative process--and how a culture was created that facilitated and encouraged the creative process. This culture inspires me as a pastor. I hope that I can facilitate such a culture in the congregation and community I serve. Creation (not the "Intelligent Design" brand) is a theological foundation for me.
For a peek into the creative culture of Friday Night Lights, check out this oral history of FNL in Grantland (and if you haven't read Grantland yet, I commend it to you for writing on culture and sport that is moving far ahead of what any periodical is offering on similar topics).
Though the church has a history of inspiring creativity, the history is also long on burying creativity. Several teachers in seminary that I respect taught me an understanding of church based on replication. I took that teaching at face value for awhile. While there are some essentials in the life of the church to be replicated (and these things have been debated since Jesus arose from the dead), I believe much is up for creative interpretation. There are numerous periods in the life of the church where creativity has been squashed for a variety of reasons. This has happened and continues to occur in Mainline Protestant traditions. Even when there are wellsprings of creativity, these wellsprings are quickly institutionalized and become their own turf wars (see "contemporary" worship).
Mainline Protestant traditions were able to spread because of replication (plenty of cookie cutter church architecture out there). What else spreads because of replication? Chain restaurants. One may be able to get survival nutrition from a chain restaurant, but can people thrive? I have great hope to encourage a congregational culture where encouraging creativity is foundational to our relationship with God and one another. To me, this seems to be connected to the Great Commission: Where Jesus said, Go! Make disciples! Baptize! I am with you.
This is a creative directive from Jesus, with encouragement to go with it.
Encouraging creativity is contagious. The motto shared by Coach Taylor with his players and supporters: "Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose." Though Taylor had some "my way or the highway" methodology to coaching--he always took into account the gifts and individual situations of his players (sometimes learning the hard way), which was linked to the creative process of the series. I love thinking about this in a community of faith.
Kyle Chandler, who plays Coach Taylor on FNL, talks about how that creativity spread from the show to a basic interaction in his life:
Chandler: I was back home in Los Angeles and we wanted to put a gate up in our yard. The fella came over and said, "Mr. Chandler, how do you want me to build this?" I said, "I'm not going to tell you how to build this gate. You just look around at what's here, and you build the best gate you can. Be as creative as you want. Take your time, and just give me a good gate." That gate's probably going to stand for 400 years.
FNL makes its last hurrah as a current television series this Friday night. I'm not sure I've mourned the end of a series as much as this one. I admire the show for its passion and its creative process--and how a culture was created that facilitated and encouraged the creative process. This culture inspires me as a pastor. I hope that I can facilitate such a culture in the congregation and community I serve. Creation (not the "Intelligent Design" brand) is a theological foundation for me.
For a peek into the creative culture of Friday Night Lights, check out this oral history of FNL in Grantland (and if you haven't read Grantland yet, I commend it to you for writing on culture and sport that is moving far ahead of what any periodical is offering on similar topics).
Though the church has a history of inspiring creativity, the history is also long on burying creativity. Several teachers in seminary that I respect taught me an understanding of church based on replication. I took that teaching at face value for awhile. While there are some essentials in the life of the church to be replicated (and these things have been debated since Jesus arose from the dead), I believe much is up for creative interpretation. There are numerous periods in the life of the church where creativity has been squashed for a variety of reasons. This has happened and continues to occur in Mainline Protestant traditions. Even when there are wellsprings of creativity, these wellsprings are quickly institutionalized and become their own turf wars (see "contemporary" worship).
Mainline Protestant traditions were able to spread because of replication (plenty of cookie cutter church architecture out there). What else spreads because of replication? Chain restaurants. One may be able to get survival nutrition from a chain restaurant, but can people thrive? I have great hope to encourage a congregational culture where encouraging creativity is foundational to our relationship with God and one another. To me, this seems to be connected to the Great Commission: Where Jesus said, Go! Make disciples! Baptize! I am with you.
This is a creative directive from Jesus, with encouragement to go with it.
Encouraging creativity is contagious. The motto shared by Coach Taylor with his players and supporters: "Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose." Though Taylor had some "my way or the highway" methodology to coaching--he always took into account the gifts and individual situations of his players (sometimes learning the hard way), which was linked to the creative process of the series. I love thinking about this in a community of faith.
Kyle Chandler, who plays Coach Taylor on FNL, talks about how that creativity spread from the show to a basic interaction in his life:
Chandler: I was back home in Los Angeles and we wanted to put a gate up in our yard. The fella came over and said, "Mr. Chandler, how do you want me to build this?" I said, "I'm not going to tell you how to build this gate. You just look around at what's here, and you build the best gate you can. Be as creative as you want. Take your time, and just give me a good gate." That gate's probably going to stand for 400 years.
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Interpretive Challenge of Unconference11
Human life in this age places value on experience. Each experience elicits a degree of response. A television program can be watched with varied responses. The responses can be laid out on a continuum. Some responses offer a short shelf-life: "can you believe that American Idol vote last night?" Each episode will only be dissected for so long for some. For others, the episode may accumulate with others and inspire a vocal performance career.
Any experience offers an opportunity for interpretation. I have attended numerous continuing education events over the years. Each learning experience, though varied in content, offered a very similar structure. A speaker/teacher of great repute travels and meets traveling participants for a provision of information. It's like I back my empty informational truck into a dock for a load of information. Though the content may be complex, the transaction is simple. I pay money. I receive information. I receive a binder or folder full of notes and handouts I will not likely crack open again. I receive a Power Point file attached to an email that clogs a memory stick or sits on my hard drive. I may have more information, but the information nourishes my body as if I attempted nourishment by swallowing a palm full of vitamins without eating any food. The intake at a conference may hold nutritive qualities, but the information isn't sticky. The typical workshop/conference/symposium in church circles fails the stickiness test. My library is a testimony to this observation. I store many binders with hope of using the material again, yet I often don't. This failure doesn't speak to the quality of the information, but the context in which it was delivered. Every educational experience challenges the participant to interpret the information to their own context. Conference hosts over the years have recognized that more people from each context increases the stickiness of the information (Bring a group! Save money! Broaden the application!) but the methodology still lacks the stickiness necessary for integration.
Unconference11 was a powerful experience for me. Not only because it represented a spiritual milestone for me, but because there was something incarnational about it. Fleshy and sticky. There was not only information shared, but relationships were graciously hosted with God and others. Every participant was given the opportunity to contribute and be respected. This is not what usually comes out of a conference. The ethos of a typical conference resembles a rock concert. If only you can get close to the star, get a backstage pass, some of that star quality might rub off into your context.
Last night I ate dinner with good friends who, like me have attended numerous conferences and workshops. They know the routine. Talk about the greatness of the speaker, the cutting edge discovery or technique, the idea that will change our contexts. I realized last night that I couldn't explain the experience in the same way that I have explained other learning events covering about 20 years of my life.
The challenge of interpreting Unconference11 remains. What will matter in these weeks ahead? First of all, I gathered with a small group of folks passionate about subversive and new ministry developments. I hope to resource this group of people as I enter into a trajectory of ministry new to me. I am thankful for that opportunity. Most of all, the interpretive challenge of Unco11 will not be whether I can share what exactly I learned and experienced among friends. I was respected. I was valued. I was given the opportunity to contribute both truth and beauty. I was healed and loved. No "conference" I have ever attended has done that. My inclination is that though my work and life in the church looks a lot like the conferences I have attended for 20 years--a lot of vitamins, but no nourishment. The interpretive challenge is not that I can replicate Unco11 in my context, but whether in my context I can share in the work of healing, respect, love and creativity. This sounds a lot like Jesus to me.
Any experience offers an opportunity for interpretation. I have attended numerous continuing education events over the years. Each learning experience, though varied in content, offered a very similar structure. A speaker/teacher of great repute travels and meets traveling participants for a provision of information. It's like I back my empty informational truck into a dock for a load of information. Though the content may be complex, the transaction is simple. I pay money. I receive information. I receive a binder or folder full of notes and handouts I will not likely crack open again. I receive a Power Point file attached to an email that clogs a memory stick or sits on my hard drive. I may have more information, but the information nourishes my body as if I attempted nourishment by swallowing a palm full of vitamins without eating any food. The intake at a conference may hold nutritive qualities, but the information isn't sticky. The typical workshop/conference/symposium in church circles fails the stickiness test. My library is a testimony to this observation. I store many binders with hope of using the material again, yet I often don't. This failure doesn't speak to the quality of the information, but the context in which it was delivered. Every educational experience challenges the participant to interpret the information to their own context. Conference hosts over the years have recognized that more people from each context increases the stickiness of the information (Bring a group! Save money! Broaden the application!) but the methodology still lacks the stickiness necessary for integration.
Unconference11 was a powerful experience for me. Not only because it represented a spiritual milestone for me, but because there was something incarnational about it. Fleshy and sticky. There was not only information shared, but relationships were graciously hosted with God and others. Every participant was given the opportunity to contribute and be respected. This is not what usually comes out of a conference. The ethos of a typical conference resembles a rock concert. If only you can get close to the star, get a backstage pass, some of that star quality might rub off into your context.
Last night I ate dinner with good friends who, like me have attended numerous conferences and workshops. They know the routine. Talk about the greatness of the speaker, the cutting edge discovery or technique, the idea that will change our contexts. I realized last night that I couldn't explain the experience in the same way that I have explained other learning events covering about 20 years of my life.
The challenge of interpreting Unconference11 remains. What will matter in these weeks ahead? First of all, I gathered with a small group of folks passionate about subversive and new ministry developments. I hope to resource this group of people as I enter into a trajectory of ministry new to me. I am thankful for that opportunity. Most of all, the interpretive challenge of Unco11 will not be whether I can share what exactly I learned and experienced among friends. I was respected. I was valued. I was given the opportunity to contribute both truth and beauty. I was healed and loved. No "conference" I have ever attended has done that. My inclination is that though my work and life in the church looks a lot like the conferences I have attended for 20 years--a lot of vitamins, but no nourishment. The interpretive challenge is not that I can replicate Unco11 in my context, but whether in my context I can share in the work of healing, respect, love and creativity. This sounds a lot like Jesus to me.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Unconference11--a gathering of ideas and a ministry of encouragement--my story
At the opening worship for Unconference11, one of our leaders asked us what do we bring to this gathering? What do we have to offer?
This is a good question. For over a year I have planned to attend Unco11. It represents an odyssey for me, through developmental challenges for my daughter and all of the changes that represents in my family life, vocational discernment, and what it means to have friends and colleagues during this season of my life. Before my daughter's diagnosis in 2006, I was heavily involved in continuing education and colleague groups. That participation ground to a halt. My family needed more focus. The window for our daughter to thrive was one that required specific attention. So that is what Melanie and I did. It is always our life that we do this for our families, but this was particular. We are at a place where we are confident in our ability to care for our daughter. It is time to reconnect. Unco11 represents that for me.
What do I have to offer? It may sound simple--but I can offer encouragement to others. I also came to be encouraged. It is in that space of encouragement that God is present. One might think that a gathering related to the church is supposed to be encouraging. But it is rare. I have been to numerous gatherings of church folk over the years, and I may have learned things, but the Spirit to implement that learning was lost in a sea of handouts and notes. Lost in the work of control freaks and egomaniacs, of which I was sometimes (and still can be) one. Observing the folks (mostly via Twitter #unco11) and Spirit who birthed the Unconference I saw a place of encouragement and learning that didn't rely on or assume old pedagogy. Plus, the use of technology and social media are used without suspicion.
I am very pleased with my investment in this gathering. I have intentionally encouraged others, and I have been encouraged. I am thankful for the many hours of labor invested so that I may experience Christ's presence.
I am still processing the discussions, and that may come with a later post. If you are looking to find a company of encouragement centered on a discussion of what we can collectively and individually offer to the life of the church, keep your eyes open for the next gathering of Unco!
This is a good question. For over a year I have planned to attend Unco11. It represents an odyssey for me, through developmental challenges for my daughter and all of the changes that represents in my family life, vocational discernment, and what it means to have friends and colleagues during this season of my life. Before my daughter's diagnosis in 2006, I was heavily involved in continuing education and colleague groups. That participation ground to a halt. My family needed more focus. The window for our daughter to thrive was one that required specific attention. So that is what Melanie and I did. It is always our life that we do this for our families, but this was particular. We are at a place where we are confident in our ability to care for our daughter. It is time to reconnect. Unco11 represents that for me.
What do I have to offer? It may sound simple--but I can offer encouragement to others. I also came to be encouraged. It is in that space of encouragement that God is present. One might think that a gathering related to the church is supposed to be encouraging. But it is rare. I have been to numerous gatherings of church folk over the years, and I may have learned things, but the Spirit to implement that learning was lost in a sea of handouts and notes. Lost in the work of control freaks and egomaniacs, of which I was sometimes (and still can be) one. Observing the folks (mostly via Twitter #unco11) and Spirit who birthed the Unconference I saw a place of encouragement and learning that didn't rely on or assume old pedagogy. Plus, the use of technology and social media are used without suspicion.
I am very pleased with my investment in this gathering. I have intentionally encouraged others, and I have been encouraged. I am thankful for the many hours of labor invested so that I may experience Christ's presence.
I am still processing the discussions, and that may come with a later post. If you are looking to find a company of encouragement centered on a discussion of what we can collectively and individually offer to the life of the church, keep your eyes open for the next gathering of Unco!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
A Litany of Farewell--A Ritual for Celebration and Forgiveness in Community Life
Last Sunday, First Lutheran Community Church in Port Orchard gathered with me as their interim pastor one last time to give thanks to God and to one another for the blessing of serving together. Good-byes are not easy for many people. I have heard several stories of pastoral departures meeting the equivalent of surgery without anesthesia. A well-executed good bye is good for all souls present, for it recognizes the gracious activity of God in our corporate lives, yet also reminds us of the talents God uniquely gives individuals that make ministry a joyful undertaking.
More importantly in this day and age, a ritual of forgiveness between pastor and congregation enacts an example for living. Forgiveness can be as messy as a goodbye, yet a ritual such as the following "Litany of Farewell," names both the successes and failures, and not glossing over the sin and wrongs of our shared lives. By recognizing sin and proclaiming forgiveness congregations and pastors gain some insight into the fragility of the congregation-pastor relationship and our shared need for God.
The "Litany of Farewell" is not unlike other rituals for departure, but this is one shared by several of my colleagues in interim ministry. Feel free to modify and use it as a way to mark changing corporate relationships in ministry.
A Litany of Farewell
Leader: A church community is constantly changing. Loved ones come to the end of their lives; new lives are born and baptized into the faith community. Individuals and families come and go throughout our life together. It is important for us to recognize and mark well these times of passage, these endings and beginnings. Today we bid farewell and Godspeed to Pastor Joe BW Smith who has served us as Pastor for the Interim for the past 18 months, whose time with us has now drawn to a close.
Pastor: I thank you, the people of First Lutheran Community Church, for the love, kindness, and support you have shown me these past months. I thank you for accepting my leadership and receiving me as pastor in your midst for this time of transition. I recall with joy the many things we have been able to accomplish together, and with sadness the things we were not able to do. I ask your understanding and your forgiveness for the mistakes I have made and for the times I may have let you down.
Congregation: We receive with thankfulness the ministry you have offered us in the time we have shared. We accept that you now leave us to minister elsewhere, trusting that God goes with you on that journey. Your presence among us will not be forgotten. We are grateful for the time you have been with us and ask your forgiveness for our own shortcomings and our sometimes flagging faith.
Pastor: I forgive you your failures, as Christ has forgiven me, and graciously accept your gratitude, trusting that our time together and our parting are pleasing to the Christ we are called to serve.
Leader: Do you, the people of First Lutheran Community Church, now release Pastor Joe from the duties of Pastor for the Interim?
Congregation: We do, with the help of God.
Leader: Do you, Pastor Joe, release First Lutheran Community Church from turning to you and relying on you to serve them as Pastor?
Pastor: I do, with the help of God.
Leader: Do you, Pastor Joe, offer your encouragement for the continued ministry here at First Lutheran Community Church?
Pastor: I do, with the help of God.
Leader: Let us pray.
Congregation: O God of all creation, whose love for all is trustworthy and true, help each of us to trust the future, which rests in your care. During our time together we have experienced laughter and tears, hopes and disappointments. Guide us as we carry these cherished memories with us in new directions until that time when we are completely one with you and with one another. In the name of Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.
Leader: Go now, Pastor Joe, with our blessing, surrounded by our love and led by the promises of God, the presence of Christ Jesus, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Congregation: Amen!
More importantly in this day and age, a ritual of forgiveness between pastor and congregation enacts an example for living. Forgiveness can be as messy as a goodbye, yet a ritual such as the following "Litany of Farewell," names both the successes and failures, and not glossing over the sin and wrongs of our shared lives. By recognizing sin and proclaiming forgiveness congregations and pastors gain some insight into the fragility of the congregation-pastor relationship and our shared need for God.
The "Litany of Farewell" is not unlike other rituals for departure, but this is one shared by several of my colleagues in interim ministry. Feel free to modify and use it as a way to mark changing corporate relationships in ministry.
A Litany of Farewell
Leader: A church community is constantly changing. Loved ones come to the end of their lives; new lives are born and baptized into the faith community. Individuals and families come and go throughout our life together. It is important for us to recognize and mark well these times of passage, these endings and beginnings. Today we bid farewell and Godspeed to Pastor Joe BW Smith who has served us as Pastor for the Interim for the past 18 months, whose time with us has now drawn to a close.
Pastor: I thank you, the people of First Lutheran Community Church, for the love, kindness, and support you have shown me these past months. I thank you for accepting my leadership and receiving me as pastor in your midst for this time of transition. I recall with joy the many things we have been able to accomplish together, and with sadness the things we were not able to do. I ask your understanding and your forgiveness for the mistakes I have made and for the times I may have let you down.
Congregation: We receive with thankfulness the ministry you have offered us in the time we have shared. We accept that you now leave us to minister elsewhere, trusting that God goes with you on that journey. Your presence among us will not be forgotten. We are grateful for the time you have been with us and ask your forgiveness for our own shortcomings and our sometimes flagging faith.
Pastor: I forgive you your failures, as Christ has forgiven me, and graciously accept your gratitude, trusting that our time together and our parting are pleasing to the Christ we are called to serve.
Leader: Do you, the people of First Lutheran Community Church, now release Pastor Joe from the duties of Pastor for the Interim?
Congregation: We do, with the help of God.
Leader: Do you, Pastor Joe, release First Lutheran Community Church from turning to you and relying on you to serve them as Pastor?
Pastor: I do, with the help of God.
Leader: Do you, Pastor Joe, offer your encouragement for the continued ministry here at First Lutheran Community Church?
Pastor: I do, with the help of God.
Leader: Let us pray.
Congregation: O God of all creation, whose love for all is trustworthy and true, help each of us to trust the future, which rests in your care. During our time together we have experienced laughter and tears, hopes and disappointments. Guide us as we carry these cherished memories with us in new directions until that time when we are completely one with you and with one another. In the name of Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.
Leader: Go now, Pastor Joe, with our blessing, surrounded by our love and led by the promises of God, the presence of Christ Jesus, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Congregation: Amen!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
After the Vigil: Imagining Ministry Location
One of the last places I ever thought I would "do" ministry was at Wal-Mart. Over the years I've heard other ministry stretches. Laundromats, baseball games, red light districts, and state fairs (to name a few) are places colleagues have gone in the name of outreach, and ministry "beyond the building."
I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.
When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.
I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.
Why do a vigil?
The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...
That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."
Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.
I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.
When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.
I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.
Why do a vigil?
The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...
That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."
Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Music as pastoral care and building the community of faith
The battle over worship in this congregation started in 1967 when _________________ played a guitar in worship. The war has gone on ever since.
That was a statement of an elder member of a congregation I served as an interim when I asked about the stories related to conflict over worship. One might call it the Thirty Years' War. The "Worship Wars" don't have the acrimony they once did even five years ago. I never understood the approach of the Worship Wars in "Mainline" Protestantism. Arguing over preferences produces no clarity, no mission, no deeper connection with the Divine.
I am not a worship scholar. I wouldn't even call myself gifted in worship methodology or theology. But I ponder the effects of music on my soul and my longing for God, desiring healing and wholeness, and where I see Christ. I have to provide the musical connection with God for myself, because the church for 30 years has been more interested in arguing about style preferences than offering to build my relationship with God and others in their spiritual growth. Recently I've been thinking less about my musical preferences and HOW I am connected to God and others by a particular song.
1. The role of testimony. Preachers and other deliverers of the Gospel can appropriately share their personal stories about the activity of God in their lives. I find meaning in that connection--why can't it be done with music? Case in point--a pastoral care song for me is from Melody Gardot's Who Will Comfort Me. The song is good in and of itself, but it means even more in light of Melody's own path of healing. Gardot faced brutal injuries and the healing setbacks and triumphs in her life come out in this particular song. Testimony brings out a tradition of the Psalms. Sometimes lament, sometimes victory. Sometimes confidence in God's presence, sometimes longing questions and frustration. Who will comfort me?
2. Songs of confession and songs of intercession. Years ago I had numerous opportunities to preach for the St. Dysmas prison congregation in the South Dakota State Penitentiary. I had some great conversations with the worship band. Though they loved playing worship music and praise songs, the jam sessions revealed more about their walk with God. What saddened me was that they thought their jams had no place in the worship service. One band member and I had a discussion around Molly Hatchet's "Flirtin' With Disaster." The song provided an entry point for this young man's story, his crimes and sins, his incarceration, and his relationship with God. I always thought it was a good song, though not a favorite. The song is now a favorite because it is an opportunity for me to pray for this young man--for healing, for forgiveness, for a newness of life each day, and a new start when he gets out of prison.
Unfortunately, my work with the Worship Wars of the past 30 or so years has been more about addressing conflict and congregational dynamics. In this season of my life, I hope for articulation of music as pastoral care and faith community building.
Excuse me--while I commute home tonight and listen to tunes from my iPhone, I will be in a place of worship. Through Christ, creation (music) and relationship--God heals.
That was a statement of an elder member of a congregation I served as an interim when I asked about the stories related to conflict over worship. One might call it the Thirty Years' War. The "Worship Wars" don't have the acrimony they once did even five years ago. I never understood the approach of the Worship Wars in "Mainline" Protestantism. Arguing over preferences produces no clarity, no mission, no deeper connection with the Divine.
I am not a worship scholar. I wouldn't even call myself gifted in worship methodology or theology. But I ponder the effects of music on my soul and my longing for God, desiring healing and wholeness, and where I see Christ. I have to provide the musical connection with God for myself, because the church for 30 years has been more interested in arguing about style preferences than offering to build my relationship with God and others in their spiritual growth. Recently I've been thinking less about my musical preferences and HOW I am connected to God and others by a particular song.
1. The role of testimony. Preachers and other deliverers of the Gospel can appropriately share their personal stories about the activity of God in their lives. I find meaning in that connection--why can't it be done with music? Case in point--a pastoral care song for me is from Melody Gardot's Who Will Comfort Me. The song is good in and of itself, but it means even more in light of Melody's own path of healing. Gardot faced brutal injuries and the healing setbacks and triumphs in her life come out in this particular song. Testimony brings out a tradition of the Psalms. Sometimes lament, sometimes victory. Sometimes confidence in God's presence, sometimes longing questions and frustration. Who will comfort me?
2. Songs of confession and songs of intercession. Years ago I had numerous opportunities to preach for the St. Dysmas prison congregation in the South Dakota State Penitentiary. I had some great conversations with the worship band. Though they loved playing worship music and praise songs, the jam sessions revealed more about their walk with God. What saddened me was that they thought their jams had no place in the worship service. One band member and I had a discussion around Molly Hatchet's "Flirtin' With Disaster." The song provided an entry point for this young man's story, his crimes and sins, his incarceration, and his relationship with God. I always thought it was a good song, though not a favorite. The song is now a favorite because it is an opportunity for me to pray for this young man--for healing, for forgiveness, for a newness of life each day, and a new start when he gets out of prison.
Unfortunately, my work with the Worship Wars of the past 30 or so years has been more about addressing conflict and congregational dynamics. In this season of my life, I hope for articulation of music as pastoral care and faith community building.
Excuse me--while I commute home tonight and listen to tunes from my iPhone, I will be in a place of worship. Through Christ, creation (music) and relationship--God heals.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Doing better than "seeing the kids"
Most of the congregations I encounter in ministry have high average ages, and that average won't go down in the near future. This demographic reality produces an emotional response in congregations.
In conversation gatherings of these older church-attending adults, I hear about a longing to see children in church. These longing congregations vary in their degree of connection with children, with a conglomeration of activities. Some congregations host a preschool or childcare facility. Some congregations provide an after-school program, or give meeting space to Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts. Some congregations host a vacation Bible school, or support a teenage youth group. For all of the hospitality and community connection a congregation makes, these programmatic connections don't mean as much to congregations as youth attending worship. Problematically, this is where the exploration of the dearth of young people ends, and a section of the body of Christ in North America continues to drain its vitality. Nancy Ammerman took a poignant look at practices of passing on faith in Mainline Protestant congregations. She found that most congregations at best put in less than an hour per week and details congregational behavior and practice in passing on the faith.
Let me state for the record that I am in favor of children participating in worship. However, "seeing" children/youth in worship is a short-sighted longing at best. Children and youth don't need to be seen in church as if their presence is an ego boost to the adults of the congregation. Children and youth are not to be paraded in front of a congregation because they are cute. Any interaction with children and youth in the life of the congregation involves an opportunity to teach them about faith in Christ and provide them an understanding of what it means to be part of a Christian community. It is not merely the task of the pastor, children's minister, or youth director to share faith with children and youth. Every group in the life of the church has something to pass on about what it means to be part of a Christian community. An altar guild, men's ministry, women's circle, Bible study group, food ministry, property committee, etc.--each have opportunities to pass on what it means to be part of a Christian community. On occasion I find a congregation that has no link to children and youth whatsoever. Even then, it is time for a congregation to look at the assets in a congregation for connecting with children and youth in some way without a preconceived expectation of how children will be "seen." Children and youth do not exist for our own glorification, but God's. A congregation in renewal will see in its community what can be given to children and youth rather than what they can get for having children and youth in the congregation.
In conversation gatherings of these older church-attending adults, I hear about a longing to see children in church. These longing congregations vary in their degree of connection with children, with a conglomeration of activities. Some congregations host a preschool or childcare facility. Some congregations provide an after-school program, or give meeting space to Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts. Some congregations host a vacation Bible school, or support a teenage youth group. For all of the hospitality and community connection a congregation makes, these programmatic connections don't mean as much to congregations as youth attending worship. Problematically, this is where the exploration of the dearth of young people ends, and a section of the body of Christ in North America continues to drain its vitality. Nancy Ammerman took a poignant look at practices of passing on faith in Mainline Protestant congregations. She found that most congregations at best put in less than an hour per week and details congregational behavior and practice in passing on the faith.
Let me state for the record that I am in favor of children participating in worship. However, "seeing" children/youth in worship is a short-sighted longing at best. Children and youth don't need to be seen in church as if their presence is an ego boost to the adults of the congregation. Children and youth are not to be paraded in front of a congregation because they are cute. Any interaction with children and youth in the life of the congregation involves an opportunity to teach them about faith in Christ and provide them an understanding of what it means to be part of a Christian community. It is not merely the task of the pastor, children's minister, or youth director to share faith with children and youth. Every group in the life of the church has something to pass on about what it means to be part of a Christian community. An altar guild, men's ministry, women's circle, Bible study group, food ministry, property committee, etc.--each have opportunities to pass on what it means to be part of a Christian community. On occasion I find a congregation that has no link to children and youth whatsoever. Even then, it is time for a congregation to look at the assets in a congregation for connecting with children and youth in some way without a preconceived expectation of how children will be "seen." Children and youth do not exist for our own glorification, but God's. A congregation in renewal will see in its community what can be given to children and youth rather than what they can get for having children and youth in the congregation.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Tithing practice experiment reveals faith growth opportunities
Are you a Christian whose blood pressure rises during the fall because your congregation talks about money for a week or two this season? Are you a pastor who is expected to deliver a message about giving so that the church can create a budget (which seems to be a conflict of interest because it affects your bottom line)? Are you a leader in a congregation who feels pressure to get members of a congregation to "step up" in their giving because you stress out about having to make difficult decisions about program cuts, staff cuts or whether you can keep the church building open?
I do not have the answers to the questions that riddle congregations and their pastors in relation to their resources. My goal is to understand the variables involved in giving and that in my preaching I can connect the generosity of God to a Christian's own response in giving. My goal is to diffuse the fear from giving so that giving can be joyful--which parallels my understanding that God gives out of joy.
Last year, I reflected on the theories why people don't give. I am planning to study a book that examines church giving trends. With the help of my colleague, Pastor Orv Jacobson, I've changed my approach yet again this year. Interim ministry has freed me to change my approaches because giving does little to affect my bottom line in ministry. I will be in a different congregation in 2011.
What startled me in my reflection and practices was my negative approach to giving in the life of a Christian and in a community. I do not mean that I've issued threats related to giving or delivered a negative tone in any of my stewardship preaching. However, if I approach people trying to convince people to give, or I join congregation leaders in merely examining why people aren't giving, I'm not giving people an opportunity for growth. What I've essentially done is offered critique without offering a positive alternative.
Think about what many congregations ask their members to do. There's a hope that people in the congregation will tithe--give 10 percent of their income to God's work through the congregation. My experience has shown that not many people in congregations tithe, yet there is a great respect for people who do tithe. Supposedly that is what people in the congregation work toward. I'm not sure if leaders and pastors expect this kind of giving growth through osmosis, because I usually see little, if any support for giving growth in congregational life. Congregations ask their members to tithe, or to commit to a one percent increase in giving in the coming year. The one percent growth can be a difficult challenge, especially if that household is made up of newly intentional givers.
In the discussion with Pastor Orv, here's what we planned.
1. Ask people to try tithing (see Malachi 3) or growing a percentage for a short period of time. Like three months. There will be no "prosperity gospel" promises, like your business will improve or your possessions will increase or your crops will be better. I will rejoice with them if it does happen, but I won't make those kind of promises.
2. Ask people who try giving growth to write down some regular reflections so they can have a prayerful, thoughtful and learning approach to giving.
3. Check in with the people who are trying giving growth--share a little mentoring.
4. Don't give judgment to people who say they decide not to tithe anymore after three months. At least they tried.
5. Keep the identity of the givers (my congregation already does this) and written reflections anonymous and share those reflections with others in hopes that they may learn.
We have three takers (so far) to try tithing for three months since I issued the invitation eight days ago. The blessing for me is the conversation with these people about their faith, their household, and their vocation--conversations I would not have had otherwise. It makes me think the church has created a culture of orphans (in terms of giving) because giving has been clouded by fear.
This idea has already been a win because of the great connections with people about their faith. If you try something similar to this in your congregation, I would love to learn what you learn. If you want to try tithing for three months and want to share your reflections, please let me know. I always find it a blessing to learn about the generosity of God and how that generosity is lived through God's people.
I do not have the answers to the questions that riddle congregations and their pastors in relation to their resources. My goal is to understand the variables involved in giving and that in my preaching I can connect the generosity of God to a Christian's own response in giving. My goal is to diffuse the fear from giving so that giving can be joyful--which parallels my understanding that God gives out of joy.
Last year, I reflected on the theories why people don't give. I am planning to study a book that examines church giving trends. With the help of my colleague, Pastor Orv Jacobson, I've changed my approach yet again this year. Interim ministry has freed me to change my approaches because giving does little to affect my bottom line in ministry. I will be in a different congregation in 2011.
What startled me in my reflection and practices was my negative approach to giving in the life of a Christian and in a community. I do not mean that I've issued threats related to giving or delivered a negative tone in any of my stewardship preaching. However, if I approach people trying to convince people to give, or I join congregation leaders in merely examining why people aren't giving, I'm not giving people an opportunity for growth. What I've essentially done is offered critique without offering a positive alternative.
Think about what many congregations ask their members to do. There's a hope that people in the congregation will tithe--give 10 percent of their income to God's work through the congregation. My experience has shown that not many people in congregations tithe, yet there is a great respect for people who do tithe. Supposedly that is what people in the congregation work toward. I'm not sure if leaders and pastors expect this kind of giving growth through osmosis, because I usually see little, if any support for giving growth in congregational life. Congregations ask their members to tithe, or to commit to a one percent increase in giving in the coming year. The one percent growth can be a difficult challenge, especially if that household is made up of newly intentional givers.
In the discussion with Pastor Orv, here's what we planned.
1. Ask people to try tithing (see Malachi 3) or growing a percentage for a short period of time. Like three months. There will be no "prosperity gospel" promises, like your business will improve or your possessions will increase or your crops will be better. I will rejoice with them if it does happen, but I won't make those kind of promises.
2. Ask people who try giving growth to write down some regular reflections so they can have a prayerful, thoughtful and learning approach to giving.
3. Check in with the people who are trying giving growth--share a little mentoring.
4. Don't give judgment to people who say they decide not to tithe anymore after three months. At least they tried.
5. Keep the identity of the givers (my congregation already does this) and written reflections anonymous and share those reflections with others in hopes that they may learn.
We have three takers (so far) to try tithing for three months since I issued the invitation eight days ago. The blessing for me is the conversation with these people about their faith, their household, and their vocation--conversations I would not have had otherwise. It makes me think the church has created a culture of orphans (in terms of giving) because giving has been clouded by fear.
This idea has already been a win because of the great connections with people about their faith. If you try something similar to this in your congregation, I would love to learn what you learn. If you want to try tithing for three months and want to share your reflections, please let me know. I always find it a blessing to learn about the generosity of God and how that generosity is lived through God's people.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Living with a GPS in a world of assumptions
I am directionally challenged. In days of old when I received directions from another human being, it didn't matter whether I received a series of landmarks, turns, or a series of distances and points on a compass. Sooner or later, confusion sets in. Maybe the wiring in my brain resists directions. Pulling over to a gas station to ask for directions was a different kind of ego bruise for me than for many men who are the subject of scorn for resisting directional help.
I do not understand the directions I am given. I'm not sure whether the disconnect involves the person giving the directions or my ability to hear the directions, or a combination thereof. I loathe frustrating others with my incompetence. Occasionally I ask for clarification of directions, but usually I give up, try to remember some of what I was told, and hope for the best.
GPS technology changed my outlook in finding my destination. Granted, a GPS presents its own set of problems. They are not perfect computer devices. But I am completely responsible for my lack of understanding. Shame and frustration need not be transferred to another person. I embrace the concept of interdependence, but with directions, no thank you.
I got lost this morning going to a park off the beaten path. My GPS failed to reveal the destination; it wanted to send me either 90 miles to the east, or in someone's yard. I drove around for about an hour. I laughed about my folly and shared the foolishness with others after I finally found the place. Every person with whom I shared the odyssey proceeded to give me directions to a place I had already been, and I still didn't understand. This is why I do not ask people for directions.
I am reminded of how communities are guided by assumptions. About 8 years ago, I made the rounds to several Confirmation receptions linked to a congregation I was serving. In these days before GPS, I had to rely on directions from people. In the early years of Mapquest, that site failed to help: the houses almost never had numbers, and many times there were no street signs. One could often write down the name of the person (even the nickname) and the town on an envelope, and that person would receive that mailing. While receiving directions to get to the receptions, someone told me to "head north on the oil road and turn east at the house that used to be blue." It took me a few months to figure out what an oil road was, but the prospect of figuring out what house used to be blue was more than I could take.
Much of congregational life is governed by cultural idiosyncrasies and a set of local assumptions. These marks of uniqueness aren't necessarily bad, but they often have no theological underpinnings and can often create separation that is not intended, yet still present. Even in a GPS world and with people like me (are there?) who don't always understand direction, a little direction is needed, along with copious amounts of hospitality. I believe it's almost impossible to give either direction or gracious hospitality unless we are aware of our assumptions. What are your congregational assumptions? Are assumptions confused with theological truth? How can congregational assumptions be addressed in order to connect with our neighbors and people whom we encounter along the way? Jesus alerts his followers to consider the neighbor.
I do not understand the directions I am given. I'm not sure whether the disconnect involves the person giving the directions or my ability to hear the directions, or a combination thereof. I loathe frustrating others with my incompetence. Occasionally I ask for clarification of directions, but usually I give up, try to remember some of what I was told, and hope for the best.
GPS technology changed my outlook in finding my destination. Granted, a GPS presents its own set of problems. They are not perfect computer devices. But I am completely responsible for my lack of understanding. Shame and frustration need not be transferred to another person. I embrace the concept of interdependence, but with directions, no thank you.
I got lost this morning going to a park off the beaten path. My GPS failed to reveal the destination; it wanted to send me either 90 miles to the east, or in someone's yard. I drove around for about an hour. I laughed about my folly and shared the foolishness with others after I finally found the place. Every person with whom I shared the odyssey proceeded to give me directions to a place I had already been, and I still didn't understand. This is why I do not ask people for directions.
I am reminded of how communities are guided by assumptions. About 8 years ago, I made the rounds to several Confirmation receptions linked to a congregation I was serving. In these days before GPS, I had to rely on directions from people. In the early years of Mapquest, that site failed to help: the houses almost never had numbers, and many times there were no street signs. One could often write down the name of the person (even the nickname) and the town on an envelope, and that person would receive that mailing. While receiving directions to get to the receptions, someone told me to "head north on the oil road and turn east at the house that used to be blue." It took me a few months to figure out what an oil road was, but the prospect of figuring out what house used to be blue was more than I could take.
Much of congregational life is governed by cultural idiosyncrasies and a set of local assumptions. These marks of uniqueness aren't necessarily bad, but they often have no theological underpinnings and can often create separation that is not intended, yet still present. Even in a GPS world and with people like me (are there?) who don't always understand direction, a little direction is needed, along with copious amounts of hospitality. I believe it's almost impossible to give either direction or gracious hospitality unless we are aware of our assumptions. What are your congregational assumptions? Are assumptions confused with theological truth? How can congregational assumptions be addressed in order to connect with our neighbors and people whom we encounter along the way? Jesus alerts his followers to consider the neighbor.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Proclamations of Hope and Encouragement are Subtle Game-Changers
Today I entered a local restaurant for some lunch where a congregation member works. I like going into the work places of congregation members--most of the time they appreciate the surprise. The move is more natural when the workplace sells something I might need, but it's not a requirement for me to stop by.
During our conversation, the woman said to me that she was looking forward to our worship service on the Port Orchard Waterfront (August 29th, 10am). I told her I appreciated hearing that. Trying something new in a congregation often invites skepticism and questions. I don't mind that people ask questions. Questions provide an opportunity to build ownership of a new ministry in the congregation. Questions provide a strategy for a developed sense of purpose. Sometimes the questions and skepticism are all I hear or congregational leaders hear--and that can prevent people from trying new things, but I am thrilled when leaders persevere. A new ministry represents a new level of work. Habits don't necessarily work, new connections must be made, new trails must be blazed. To hear a word of encouragement like that is a subtle game-changer. I look at the game plan for that Sunday, and the tasks become not a source of fear, but opportunity.
As the conversation continued, the woman shared with me that her daughter was bringing her boat to dock for the service and that it might encourage her to be a part of the congregation. That bit of encouragement got me thinking broader: where am I going to get a boat and an adequate sound system so I can preach to the boaters? Proclamations of hope and encouragement are subtle game-changers.
During our conversation, the woman said to me that she was looking forward to our worship service on the Port Orchard Waterfront (August 29th, 10am). I told her I appreciated hearing that. Trying something new in a congregation often invites skepticism and questions. I don't mind that people ask questions. Questions provide an opportunity to build ownership of a new ministry in the congregation. Questions provide a strategy for a developed sense of purpose. Sometimes the questions and skepticism are all I hear or congregational leaders hear--and that can prevent people from trying new things, but I am thrilled when leaders persevere. A new ministry represents a new level of work. Habits don't necessarily work, new connections must be made, new trails must be blazed. To hear a word of encouragement like that is a subtle game-changer. I look at the game plan for that Sunday, and the tasks become not a source of fear, but opportunity.
As the conversation continued, the woman shared with me that her daughter was bringing her boat to dock for the service and that it might encourage her to be a part of the congregation. That bit of encouragement got me thinking broader: where am I going to get a boat and an adequate sound system so I can preach to the boaters? Proclamations of hope and encouragement are subtle game-changers.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Faith-work connections need a more important room
While in seminary, anyone discussing the connection between faith and work usually referenced the role of works in Christian faith. Understanding the relationship to what we do in life and the grace of God is a tenet of great theological significance.
Unlike Martin Luther, this relationship between faith and works does not keep me awake at night. What keeps me awake at night I whether my work provides a space in their lives for people to connect with the grace of God. Congregational life relegates the presence of God in our lives to places that receive relatively little attention understood in amount of time spent. Congregational life and our relationship with God is like a house. Much to our detriment, congregational life looks like we place God in small spaces like closets or storage areas in a house--places where we spend few waking hours. When I reflect upon the energies of congregational life, we place emphasis on volunteer time, whether at church or in completing a service project. We place emphasis on families. We place emphasis on worship time. All of these aspects of life are important and valuable. However if we total the time spent on these activities as a percentage of our total time in a week, the percentage is low. Most of our waking hours are spent at work.What would our homes look like if we placed all of our energy on the closets?
At a recent stewardship conference I attended through Luther Seminary, Philip (Dubuque Seminary) and Janet Jamison (University of Dubuque) persuaded me to be more intentional about the connection between faith and work on many levels. Though I don't have the data in front of me (I was told it would be published soon) when polled, well over 90% of church attenders responded that their congregations did not help them make a connection between faith and work. We're not talking about the classic Reformation-era faith-works relationship, but a space where a computer programmer communicates the grace of God in their work. A space where a grocery clerk sees an opportunity through hospitality to share God's love. A space where a custodian provides a clean and safe place for others to use their God-given gifts in work.
God, have mercy on the church for thinking that everything we do is about making our congregations better places for our own sake and pride rather than equipping people to live a grace-filled life during every waking hour. I began learning this lesson of time stewardship as I saw people enthusiastically, yet humbly come toward the altar for a blessing during our Celebrating Faces service. Those working on our Celebrating Faces service, where we once a month offer a specific word of grace for particular lines of work (teachers, health care workers, first responders, for example). We originally designed the service as an outreach, a way to connect with people in the community. Toward the end of the service, people come forward for a blessing. How I begin the blessing involves asking each individual who comes forward to tell me in a sentence what they do for a living. From that sentence, I craft a blessing tailored to that person's work. I remember a junior high school teacher. Remembering the intense social and hormonal challenges of junior high, I spoke a blessing on someone who teaches and connects with the turbulent times of adolescence and that the teacher may have peace in the midst of frustration and a reminder that God is faithfully present with them in the classroom.
We fail to speak God's grace to many situations in the life of the church; yet the connection between faith and work is something we can do. For Lutheran Christians, the connection should be easier (Luther wrote on this topic on numerous occasions), but I suppose not, because we're not doing it. If we think we're doing it, we're not, because the faith work connection fails to register with people today. The house of our lives can be filled with God's grace, but we relegate it to place where we only spend a few hours on any given day. So much of life is spent at work, and without being intentional about the faith-work connection, we will be evicted from our houses of faith.
Unlike Martin Luther, this relationship between faith and works does not keep me awake at night. What keeps me awake at night I whether my work provides a space in their lives for people to connect with the grace of God. Congregational life relegates the presence of God in our lives to places that receive relatively little attention understood in amount of time spent. Congregational life and our relationship with God is like a house. Much to our detriment, congregational life looks like we place God in small spaces like closets or storage areas in a house--places where we spend few waking hours. When I reflect upon the energies of congregational life, we place emphasis on volunteer time, whether at church or in completing a service project. We place emphasis on families. We place emphasis on worship time. All of these aspects of life are important and valuable. However if we total the time spent on these activities as a percentage of our total time in a week, the percentage is low. Most of our waking hours are spent at work.What would our homes look like if we placed all of our energy on the closets?
At a recent stewardship conference I attended through Luther Seminary, Philip (Dubuque Seminary) and Janet Jamison (University of Dubuque) persuaded me to be more intentional about the connection between faith and work on many levels. Though I don't have the data in front of me (I was told it would be published soon) when polled, well over 90% of church attenders responded that their congregations did not help them make a connection between faith and work. We're not talking about the classic Reformation-era faith-works relationship, but a space where a computer programmer communicates the grace of God in their work. A space where a grocery clerk sees an opportunity through hospitality to share God's love. A space where a custodian provides a clean and safe place for others to use their God-given gifts in work.
God, have mercy on the church for thinking that everything we do is about making our congregations better places for our own sake and pride rather than equipping people to live a grace-filled life during every waking hour. I began learning this lesson of time stewardship as I saw people enthusiastically, yet humbly come toward the altar for a blessing during our Celebrating Faces service. Those working on our Celebrating Faces service, where we once a month offer a specific word of grace for particular lines of work (teachers, health care workers, first responders, for example). We originally designed the service as an outreach, a way to connect with people in the community. Toward the end of the service, people come forward for a blessing. How I begin the blessing involves asking each individual who comes forward to tell me in a sentence what they do for a living. From that sentence, I craft a blessing tailored to that person's work. I remember a junior high school teacher. Remembering the intense social and hormonal challenges of junior high, I spoke a blessing on someone who teaches and connects with the turbulent times of adolescence and that the teacher may have peace in the midst of frustration and a reminder that God is faithfully present with them in the classroom.
We fail to speak God's grace to many situations in the life of the church; yet the connection between faith and work is something we can do. For Lutheran Christians, the connection should be easier (Luther wrote on this topic on numerous occasions), but I suppose not, because we're not doing it. If we think we're doing it, we're not, because the faith work connection fails to register with people today. The house of our lives can be filled with God's grace, but we relegate it to place where we only spend a few hours on any given day. So much of life is spent at work, and without being intentional about the faith-work connection, we will be evicted from our houses of faith.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Finding My Place and Opportunity to Serve in "The Great Reset": Making Meaning through Work
During my service at First Lutheran Community Church, I spend 2-6 hours each work day. For some people distance commuting is a way of life. I usually enjoy time in the car--I love my time on the open road. Driving served as great down time for me in the days before children and seriously managing a household. Today, the commute is a burden. For the past two months I have wondered how to better invest that time than an entertaining podcast or music. I've reconsidered my listening time since that 2-6 hours ends up devouring time given to study.
The work of Richard Florida sat on my reading list for years. I bought a book that sat on my shelf (typical). I recently started reading Florida's blog and tweets on economic geography. As a passionate student of church and context, I find Florida's research and analysis useful and refreshing. Many of Florida's ideas and methods continue racing through my thoughts well after completing his book: "The Great Reset: How New Ways of Living and Working Drive Post-Crash Prosperity."
1. Florida sees current economic challenges as an opportunity, though not through mere naive positive thinking.
2. Florida doesn't (explicitly) espouse a particular current American political ideology. His ideas reflect his research analysis rather than a loyalty to a manifesto or prevalent ideology. He regularly critiques government practices that some political activists would cheer, yet sees a positive place for government action to encourage creative work and a healthy sense of prosperity that other political activists would cheer.
3. Florida recognizes the value of historical practices, yet he challenges practices regardless of their place in history.
4. Florida challenges the practices of commuting and home ownership as accepted means to prosperity. This is one of the most challenging ideas for me because of my thousands of miles of commuting over the last decade. This idea also challenges my desire to own another home, even after the first experience was full of great moments in my family history to go along with the stumbling blocks and pain of home ownership. In what he calls "The Great Reset," where a backlog of creativity and opportunity is becoming unleashed, people in bad mortgage situations will be unable to respond to opportunities because they are stuck in their "owned" homes.
5. In this post-industrial/knowledge based economy, Florida asserts that finding meaning in work is a key component for the economy to thrive. Though Florida addresses meaning and work more clearly and eloquently, I wrestled with this idea on my own for the past 7-8 months, an idea I believe identifies a field of Christian service (maybe even more so for Lutherans). Luther recorded many thoughts on vocation, though I have read that Luther's understanding of vocation is different from our understanding. My challenge will be to understand whether these understandings of vocation can be linked. Regardless of that personal study, I still believe people can find meaning in their work in the context of the grace of God through Jesus Christ. Grace given and received, Christians live out a response not to earn God's love, but to live in thankfulness in service to our neighbor. If we believe in the transforming power of God's grace, that grace should affect how we interact with everyone, from our families, friends, in everyday interaction with co-workers and the general public while doing our work. In the post-industrial/knowledge-based economy, the service-type job sector continues to grow. People who cut hair, or help you buy your groceries or sell you hardware when you need something on a Saturday afternoon are not going to be outsourced to India or China. Therefore making these into meaningful jobs challenges this era's job market. I believe Christians can serve this era well.
My fellow servants at First Lutheran Community Church and I continue to learn about the depth of importance of work and meaning. As FLCC invited people in particular kinds of work to come for worship, fellowship and blessing at three different services earlier this year--our leaders and volunteers learned about the need to connect meaning and work through prayer and blessing. We all agreed that the greatest impact of our service project was the blessing--the laying on of hands and speaking a particular word of thanksgiving and encouragement was positive and moving for many in this community. Florida's observations about meaning and work confirmed what our leaders saw in our ministry.
Many of my recent social interactions reference Florida's latest book. Though not specifically ecclesiological, Florida has presented a new field that can be reached. I believe that field can be harvested by Christians.
The work of Richard Florida sat on my reading list for years. I bought a book that sat on my shelf (typical). I recently started reading Florida's blog and tweets on economic geography. As a passionate student of church and context, I find Florida's research and analysis useful and refreshing. Many of Florida's ideas and methods continue racing through my thoughts well after completing his book: "The Great Reset: How New Ways of Living and Working Drive Post-Crash Prosperity."
1. Florida sees current economic challenges as an opportunity, though not through mere naive positive thinking.
2. Florida doesn't (explicitly) espouse a particular current American political ideology. His ideas reflect his research analysis rather than a loyalty to a manifesto or prevalent ideology. He regularly critiques government practices that some political activists would cheer, yet sees a positive place for government action to encourage creative work and a healthy sense of prosperity that other political activists would cheer.
3. Florida recognizes the value of historical practices, yet he challenges practices regardless of their place in history.
4. Florida challenges the practices of commuting and home ownership as accepted means to prosperity. This is one of the most challenging ideas for me because of my thousands of miles of commuting over the last decade. This idea also challenges my desire to own another home, even after the first experience was full of great moments in my family history to go along with the stumbling blocks and pain of home ownership. In what he calls "The Great Reset," where a backlog of creativity and opportunity is becoming unleashed, people in bad mortgage situations will be unable to respond to opportunities because they are stuck in their "owned" homes.
5. In this post-industrial/knowledge based economy, Florida asserts that finding meaning in work is a key component for the economy to thrive. Though Florida addresses meaning and work more clearly and eloquently, I wrestled with this idea on my own for the past 7-8 months, an idea I believe identifies a field of Christian service (maybe even more so for Lutherans). Luther recorded many thoughts on vocation, though I have read that Luther's understanding of vocation is different from our understanding. My challenge will be to understand whether these understandings of vocation can be linked. Regardless of that personal study, I still believe people can find meaning in their work in the context of the grace of God through Jesus Christ. Grace given and received, Christians live out a response not to earn God's love, but to live in thankfulness in service to our neighbor. If we believe in the transforming power of God's grace, that grace should affect how we interact with everyone, from our families, friends, in everyday interaction with co-workers and the general public while doing our work. In the post-industrial/knowledge-based economy, the service-type job sector continues to grow. People who cut hair, or help you buy your groceries or sell you hardware when you need something on a Saturday afternoon are not going to be outsourced to India or China. Therefore making these into meaningful jobs challenges this era's job market. I believe Christians can serve this era well.
My fellow servants at First Lutheran Community Church and I continue to learn about the depth of importance of work and meaning. As FLCC invited people in particular kinds of work to come for worship, fellowship and blessing at three different services earlier this year--our leaders and volunteers learned about the need to connect meaning and work through prayer and blessing. We all agreed that the greatest impact of our service project was the blessing--the laying on of hands and speaking a particular word of thanksgiving and encouragement was positive and moving for many in this community. Florida's observations about meaning and work confirmed what our leaders saw in our ministry.
Many of my recent social interactions reference Florida's latest book. Though not specifically ecclesiological, Florida has presented a new field that can be reached. I believe that field can be harvested by Christians.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Ten Commandments Mnemonic Used During Kid Sermon
Last Sunday, I had the highest adult participation during a kid sermon in my experience. People commenting to me wished they had a good memory device for the Ten Commandments back in Confirmation--and I gave them such a device. Their enthusiasm simultaneously reflected jubilation, relief and angst.
I can't take credit for the creation of the study help, only the delivery. I received the device in 1999 from my colleague in South Dakota, Nate Hanson, who served (still serving?) Moe Parish near Hudson, SD. I've used the device ever since. Maybe its origins are deeper, but I have no knowledge of its use outside of South Dakota. Since sharing the memory device, I've received several requests for a typed copy. A You Tube video seems most appropriate, but until I put that together, a blog post will have to suffice.
A Ten Commandments Mnemonic:
1. Hold up one finger. Point to your eye. "First Commandment: I am the Lord your God. You shall have no other gods."
2. Hold up two fingers. Reach the two fingers to touch the VEINS on your wrist. "Second Commandment: you shall not take the Lord's name in vain."
3. Hold up three fingers. Emphasize the HOLE made when holding up three fingers. Look through the hole. "Third Commandment: remember the Sabbath day. Keep it Hole-y."
4. Hold up four fingers. Hold the four fingers in preparation to salute. "Fourth Commandment: honor your father and mother." Salute.
5. Hold up five fingers. Point the thumb downward as to indicate a medieval death sentence. "You shall not kill."
6. Hold up six fingers (five fingers on one hand and the thumb on the other). Take the single thumb and stab yourself in the heart to depict the pain of adultery. "Sixth Commandment: you shall not commit adultery."
7. Hold up seven fingers (five fingers on one hand and the thumb and index finger on the other, as if pointing a gun and committing a robbery). "Seventh Commandment: you shall not steal."
8. Hold up eight fingers (four fingers on each hand, thumbs folded in). Make a downward scratching motion in the air in front of you. "Eighth Commandment: you shall not BEAR false witness against your neighbor."
9. Hold up nine fingers. Then hold out the nine fingers in front of you, palms up. Show the ring finger, a remembrance of marriage. "Ninth Commandment: you shall not covet your neighbor's wife."
10. Hold up ten fingers. Next, put the tips of fingers up to form a triangle above your head--to look like you are putting a roof over your head. "Tenth Commandment: you shall not cover your neighbor's HOUSE." Lay out one hand to one side and say, "man servant." Lay the other hand out to the other side and say, "maid servant." Take your two index fingers and put them on the side of your head to look like horns and say, "cattle." Lay both palms out and say, "or ANYTHING else that is your neighbor's."
With this mnemonic device, you have Ten Commandments spelled out. Obviously the commandments are not explained, but the device can be used as a base for teaching. In my experience, the commandment itself is memorized after only a few times through--and subsequent quick reviews help. The device works at Confirmation retreats or lessons, serves a quick review for adults, youth group, and keeps kids moving and thinking during a kid sermon or preschool chapel time. If you try it, let me know how it works for you. I can also take questions and would love to help any way I can.
I can't take credit for the creation of the study help, only the delivery. I received the device in 1999 from my colleague in South Dakota, Nate Hanson, who served (still serving?) Moe Parish near Hudson, SD. I've used the device ever since. Maybe its origins are deeper, but I have no knowledge of its use outside of South Dakota. Since sharing the memory device, I've received several requests for a typed copy. A You Tube video seems most appropriate, but until I put that together, a blog post will have to suffice.
A Ten Commandments Mnemonic:
1. Hold up one finger. Point to your eye. "First Commandment: I am the Lord your God. You shall have no other gods."
2. Hold up two fingers. Reach the two fingers to touch the VEINS on your wrist. "Second Commandment: you shall not take the Lord's name in vain."
3. Hold up three fingers. Emphasize the HOLE made when holding up three fingers. Look through the hole. "Third Commandment: remember the Sabbath day. Keep it Hole-y."
4. Hold up four fingers. Hold the four fingers in preparation to salute. "Fourth Commandment: honor your father and mother." Salute.
5. Hold up five fingers. Point the thumb downward as to indicate a medieval death sentence. "You shall not kill."
6. Hold up six fingers (five fingers on one hand and the thumb on the other). Take the single thumb and stab yourself in the heart to depict the pain of adultery. "Sixth Commandment: you shall not commit adultery."
7. Hold up seven fingers (five fingers on one hand and the thumb and index finger on the other, as if pointing a gun and committing a robbery). "Seventh Commandment: you shall not steal."
8. Hold up eight fingers (four fingers on each hand, thumbs folded in). Make a downward scratching motion in the air in front of you. "Eighth Commandment: you shall not BEAR false witness against your neighbor."
9. Hold up nine fingers. Then hold out the nine fingers in front of you, palms up. Show the ring finger, a remembrance of marriage. "Ninth Commandment: you shall not covet your neighbor's wife."
10. Hold up ten fingers. Next, put the tips of fingers up to form a triangle above your head--to look like you are putting a roof over your head. "Tenth Commandment: you shall not cover your neighbor's HOUSE." Lay out one hand to one side and say, "man servant." Lay the other hand out to the other side and say, "maid servant." Take your two index fingers and put them on the side of your head to look like horns and say, "cattle." Lay both palms out and say, "or ANYTHING else that is your neighbor's."
With this mnemonic device, you have Ten Commandments spelled out. Obviously the commandments are not explained, but the device can be used as a base for teaching. In my experience, the commandment itself is memorized after only a few times through--and subsequent quick reviews help. The device works at Confirmation retreats or lessons, serves a quick review for adults, youth group, and keeps kids moving and thinking during a kid sermon or preschool chapel time. If you try it, let me know how it works for you. I can also take questions and would love to help any way I can.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Life of the "First Advantage"
I knew a man at a congregation I served years ago (I’ll call him John). John is insightful, pragmatic and creative—a great leadership resource. Incredibly busy, John runs a public relations/advertising company. He is also interested in the life of his congregation. He removed himself from church leadership because he attended too many committee meetings that were long on talk, but short on action. John wanted his work and gifts to mean something in the life of a congregation and community. He found his time, energy and gift investment was better placed elsewhere. At first, I lamented John’s absence. However, other service opportunities offered a better return on investment. I couldn’t argue with his disengagement from congregational leadership.
My first encounter with First Lutheran Community Church and its organizational structure was intriguing to a geek like me. I like sociology and organizational development. I spent my first 11 years of ministry trying to make broken systems better, mostly because I enjoyed thinking about the structure itself. However, the return on time and energy invested was minimal.
My current commute tests my patience. Although I will make two round trips (some days 3) between Federal Way and Port Orchard (about 80 miles), I have new hope for ministry. A few years ago I completely lost my patience for ineffective church committee meetings. I see FLCC and its lack of standing committees as a breath of fresh air. My leadership to different groups of the church seems to matter at FLCC—and most ministries are able to thrive without my presence at meetings. I have good return on my time, energy and gift investment in FLCC--because I know that people’s lives are affected positively in the name of Christ.
The point is that the people of Port Orchard need to know the advantages of this community of faith. What are the advantages of being a part of FLCC? What is the First Advantage? Anyone can come to worship and learn about the presence of God in daily life through the Bible, music and prayer. Wisdom for living is found. Healing is possible for brokenness in relationships with God and others. A call is issued to serve our neighbors in need. FLCC is a place where anyone can become neighbors. There is an opportunity to live this life in Jesus Christ every day of the week. The congregation may not suit everyone’s preferences, but anyone can receive a good return on their investment. Not only does FLCC open its doors, but you are continually learning to proactively invite your neighbors outside of your doors. To what kind of community are you inviting potential neighbors? Thank you for sharing that First Advantage with me. I pray for your continuing work in engaging your neighbors-to-be.
My first encounter with First Lutheran Community Church and its organizational structure was intriguing to a geek like me. I like sociology and organizational development. I spent my first 11 years of ministry trying to make broken systems better, mostly because I enjoyed thinking about the structure itself. However, the return on time and energy invested was minimal.
My current commute tests my patience. Although I will make two round trips (some days 3) between Federal Way and Port Orchard (about 80 miles), I have new hope for ministry. A few years ago I completely lost my patience for ineffective church committee meetings. I see FLCC and its lack of standing committees as a breath of fresh air. My leadership to different groups of the church seems to matter at FLCC—and most ministries are able to thrive without my presence at meetings. I have good return on my time, energy and gift investment in FLCC--because I know that people’s lives are affected positively in the name of Christ.
The point is that the people of Port Orchard need to know the advantages of this community of faith. What are the advantages of being a part of FLCC? What is the First Advantage? Anyone can come to worship and learn about the presence of God in daily life through the Bible, music and prayer. Wisdom for living is found. Healing is possible for brokenness in relationships with God and others. A call is issued to serve our neighbors in need. FLCC is a place where anyone can become neighbors. There is an opportunity to live this life in Jesus Christ every day of the week. The congregation may not suit everyone’s preferences, but anyone can receive a good return on their investment. Not only does FLCC open its doors, but you are continually learning to proactively invite your neighbors outside of your doors. To what kind of community are you inviting potential neighbors? Thank you for sharing that First Advantage with me. I pray for your continuing work in engaging your neighbors-to-be.
Friday, February 26, 2010
40 day journey with Martin Luther: Day 8 What is Sabbath?
"We are to fear and love God, so that we do not despise preaching or God's Word, but instead keep that Word holy and gladly hear and learn it." --Martin Luther
It was hard to reconcile Luther's words on the Third Commandment with what I had learned. I must admit that I have spent much more of my theology study time with Walter Brueggemann than with Luther. Brueggemann says that church people expel too much energy about what Sabbath means for the life of the Church and what the church is doing. That is not what Sabbath is about at all. Sabbath is means simply this, "stop working."
Luther is not afraid to interpret, so I don't fault him for making a statement about preaching and listening/reading God's Word (on the Sabbath or other times). However, I'm not persuaded by Luther's statement connecting Sabbath and God's Word. I think he writes out of a Christendom perspective and raises Christendom to the level of a commandment. I would think that Luther's interpretation of the Third Commandment might go better with the First Commandment. I'm not sure.
"Stop working" is actually one of the harder commandments to follow for me, because I believe my work is so important to the family, the congregation, and the world, that the world might fall apart if I stop working. I think God's Word works in tandem with stop working, because if I actually stop working, then the Word of God bubbles up in my consciousness.
I'm sticking with Brueggemann that Sabbath is not about church, but work stoppage. But I do think that God's Word can work in tandem with Sabbath, though not its intent. How's that for sitting on the fence? I think Brueggemann would go so far as to say Luther is wrong. Egad, a Lutheran even entertaining that idea on the Commandments??? Call me a false teacher...
Journal Reflection:
Reflect on the Sundays of your childhood.
Once my family actually started going to church when I was 9, it was definitely a discipline. I couldn't really get out of church. We attended, we sat in the front. We went to Sunday School or Confirmation. We stopped by the grocery store afterward, bought milk and a newspaper. Sometimes we would go to my Gram's house for dinner, and occasionally hop on a ferry to visit my Grandma on Whidbey Island. It was a day to visit with family. There were days I had soccer games or baseball games on Sundays, and I wore my uniform to church, but I was not going to miss a worship service. My parents were strict about that.
It was hard to reconcile Luther's words on the Third Commandment with what I had learned. I must admit that I have spent much more of my theology study time with Walter Brueggemann than with Luther. Brueggemann says that church people expel too much energy about what Sabbath means for the life of the Church and what the church is doing. That is not what Sabbath is about at all. Sabbath is means simply this, "stop working."
Luther is not afraid to interpret, so I don't fault him for making a statement about preaching and listening/reading God's Word (on the Sabbath or other times). However, I'm not persuaded by Luther's statement connecting Sabbath and God's Word. I think he writes out of a Christendom perspective and raises Christendom to the level of a commandment. I would think that Luther's interpretation of the Third Commandment might go better with the First Commandment. I'm not sure.
"Stop working" is actually one of the harder commandments to follow for me, because I believe my work is so important to the family, the congregation, and the world, that the world might fall apart if I stop working. I think God's Word works in tandem with stop working, because if I actually stop working, then the Word of God bubbles up in my consciousness.
I'm sticking with Brueggemann that Sabbath is not about church, but work stoppage. But I do think that God's Word can work in tandem with Sabbath, though not its intent. How's that for sitting on the fence? I think Brueggemann would go so far as to say Luther is wrong. Egad, a Lutheran even entertaining that idea on the Commandments??? Call me a false teacher...
Journal Reflection:
Reflect on the Sundays of your childhood.
Once my family actually started going to church when I was 9, it was definitely a discipline. I couldn't really get out of church. We attended, we sat in the front. We went to Sunday School or Confirmation. We stopped by the grocery store afterward, bought milk and a newspaper. Sometimes we would go to my Gram's house for dinner, and occasionally hop on a ferry to visit my Grandma on Whidbey Island. It was a day to visit with family. There were days I had soccer games or baseball games on Sundays, and I wore my uniform to church, but I was not going to miss a worship service. My parents were strict about that.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
40 day journey with Martin Luther: Day 4 The Garland of Prayer
"[on prayer with the commandments, using the image of a 4-strand garland "The Garland of Prayer"]I think of each commandment as, first, instruction...and consider what the Lord God demands of me so earnestly. Second, I turn it into a thanksgiving; third, a confession; and fourth, a prayer." --Martin Luther
Journal Reflection:
Why not try the garland of prayer?
I must admit, I am resistant to trying a prayer "technique." It feels a bit contrived, sort of like the Father Weejus prayers. However, any prayer can be contrived if it's not from the heart. For Luther, it seems that praying the commandments helped him recognize that the contrivance was his, and not God's. That prayer, instruction and confession and joy are worthy pursuits. For being a great theologian, Luther was also one who made prayer not merely a discipline for discipline's sake, but a dynamic discipline that reflected his own desire to connect with a merciful God. I think my resistance to praying in this way may have more to do with the daunting nature of this prayer. Praying all of the Ten Commandments with a garland of prayer? My patience, my work ethic, and the exposing nature of confession is painful. Today I did a garland of prayer with one commandment. We'll see where this goes. But it was definitely thought-provoking.
I have had other "techniques" of prayer with longevity, but they were all in partnership with colleagues and friends: lectio divina and the Lambeth Bible study. I suppose it could take root in a small group. I know a pastor who makes something like this part of every worship service.
Journal Reflection:
Why not try the garland of prayer?
I must admit, I am resistant to trying a prayer "technique." It feels a bit contrived, sort of like the Father Weejus prayers. However, any prayer can be contrived if it's not from the heart. For Luther, it seems that praying the commandments helped him recognize that the contrivance was his, and not God's. That prayer, instruction and confession and joy are worthy pursuits. For being a great theologian, Luther was also one who made prayer not merely a discipline for discipline's sake, but a dynamic discipline that reflected his own desire to connect with a merciful God. I think my resistance to praying in this way may have more to do with the daunting nature of this prayer. Praying all of the Ten Commandments with a garland of prayer? My patience, my work ethic, and the exposing nature of confession is painful. Today I did a garland of prayer with one commandment. We'll see where this goes. But it was definitely thought-provoking.
I have had other "techniques" of prayer with longevity, but they were all in partnership with colleagues and friends: lectio divina and the Lambeth Bible study. I suppose it could take root in a small group. I know a pastor who makes something like this part of every worship service.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Bishop coming for a visit: remembering connections
I do not have a deep ministry pedigree. Sometimes when I attend Lutheran events, I see pastors who are from families of long lines of pastors. That pastor could be 3rd, 4th or 5th generation clergy. The pastors that they know have similar backgrounds--and they are connected through historic Christian institutions--colleges, seminaries, congregations, synods can sometimes see long lines of relatives and friends. This is pedigree. It seems to be destiny as much as call that ministry is continued and celebrated.
I do not have this ministry pedigree. I know it doesn't matter to God that I am not from a long line of pastors. I am confident in my calling, even though I'm not necessarily sure where God wants me to be or what God wants me to do. I generally trust that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing during any period of time, and that God will provoke my own spirit when the time comes to search. Not having a ministry pedigree, however, makes me wonder about my place sometimes. How does God work in the midst of bureaucracy and pedigree? I do not know, only that I trust that God can work in any situation.
Next Sunday, Bishop Rob Hofstad from the Southwestern Washington Synod will come and preach at First Lutheran Community Church. Bishop Hofstad is one of the few people in ministry where I can make the statement "we go way back." Pedigree allows this kind of statement on a regular basis. Bishop Hofstad was my pastor during the four years I lived in Olympia, Washington (at Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd), before I went off to college in the Midwest. We've kept some communication over the years as I moved toward and established my work in ordained ministry in the ELCA all over the Midwest. Bishop Hofstad is a gentle, balanced and wise soul. He is joyful, but not gregarious. He holds a deep faith and holds the faith of others in high esteem and care. I invited him to come preach at FLCC for a couple of reasons--one is selfish, the other is idealistic and helpful. The selfish reason is that after 20 years in the Midwest, I have returned to my land of origin. Bishop Hofstad shared the Gospel in a way that had an impact on me and in some way helped prepared me for what I am doing now, and he has offered encouragement on the way. To share worship with him in a congregation I serve feels like a milestone, or even coming full circle to a degree. It will be my extra pleasure to be in worship next Sunday.
The idealistic and helpful reason for Bishop Hofstad to join us is that it is deeply important that First Lutheran Community Church remember its connections with our Lutheran Christian sisters and brothers across the Southwestern Washington Synod and the rest of the ELCA and world. I am reminded of the importance of recognizing our connections as Bishop Hofstad is returning to Washington after nearly three weeks in Europe on an ecumenical delegation, meeting with various world Christian leaders, including Pope Benedict in Vatican City. Bishop Hofstad is not any more important than any one else in our portion of the Body of Christ, he only serves a particular calling. To me, Bishop Hofstad serves as a reminder of the meaning of our sisters and brothers in Christ--that we are called to encourage one another, offer our ideas and resources to one another, and build one another up. Bishop Hofstad doesn't have the all the answers to make those connections, yet he serves as a reminder of our particular callings from God in the world and that we are in this service to God and neighbor together.
I do not have this ministry pedigree. I know it doesn't matter to God that I am not from a long line of pastors. I am confident in my calling, even though I'm not necessarily sure where God wants me to be or what God wants me to do. I generally trust that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing during any period of time, and that God will provoke my own spirit when the time comes to search. Not having a ministry pedigree, however, makes me wonder about my place sometimes. How does God work in the midst of bureaucracy and pedigree? I do not know, only that I trust that God can work in any situation.
Next Sunday, Bishop Rob Hofstad from the Southwestern Washington Synod will come and preach at First Lutheran Community Church. Bishop Hofstad is one of the few people in ministry where I can make the statement "we go way back." Pedigree allows this kind of statement on a regular basis. Bishop Hofstad was my pastor during the four years I lived in Olympia, Washington (at Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd), before I went off to college in the Midwest. We've kept some communication over the years as I moved toward and established my work in ordained ministry in the ELCA all over the Midwest. Bishop Hofstad is a gentle, balanced and wise soul. He is joyful, but not gregarious. He holds a deep faith and holds the faith of others in high esteem and care. I invited him to come preach at FLCC for a couple of reasons--one is selfish, the other is idealistic and helpful. The selfish reason is that after 20 years in the Midwest, I have returned to my land of origin. Bishop Hofstad shared the Gospel in a way that had an impact on me and in some way helped prepared me for what I am doing now, and he has offered encouragement on the way. To share worship with him in a congregation I serve feels like a milestone, or even coming full circle to a degree. It will be my extra pleasure to be in worship next Sunday.
The idealistic and helpful reason for Bishop Hofstad to join us is that it is deeply important that First Lutheran Community Church remember its connections with our Lutheran Christian sisters and brothers across the Southwestern Washington Synod and the rest of the ELCA and world. I am reminded of the importance of recognizing our connections as Bishop Hofstad is returning to Washington after nearly three weeks in Europe on an ecumenical delegation, meeting with various world Christian leaders, including Pope Benedict in Vatican City. Bishop Hofstad is not any more important than any one else in our portion of the Body of Christ, he only serves a particular calling. To me, Bishop Hofstad serves as a reminder of the meaning of our sisters and brothers in Christ--that we are called to encourage one another, offer our ideas and resources to one another, and build one another up. Bishop Hofstad doesn't have the all the answers to make those connections, yet he serves as a reminder of our particular callings from God in the world and that we are in this service to God and neighbor together.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
40 day Journey with Martin Luther (Augsburg Books) Day 1: Discipline and the Chrisitan Life
On Sunday, February 7, my own sermon reached me, as I preached on the disciplined Christian life compared to the disciplined life of an athlete in 1 Corinthians 9:24-27. It was during my own sermon that had an epiphany about the concept of discipline. I haven't had a bad relationship with discipline in my life, but I have questioned its application. I led a disciplined life as a baseball player for several years and as a student in college (at least most of my last 2 years in college). That discipline reflected choice on my part. I also cringe at the concept of discipline because it is often used as a guise for abusive and controlling behavior by a person of power. I am also in the midst of a learning process about the relationship between discipline and parenting. I am thankful that my parents stuck to their values and gave discipline in a way that inspired growth in me. My parents were not and are not infallible, but they raised me in a way that I am able to respect boundaries and understand those boundaries as a blessing and opportunity for growth.
Discipline is an important concept for a Christian, particularly in the 40 days of Lent. Lent is a time to cultivate the life of faith in Christ so that that life can bear fruit in one's own life and in serving the neighbor. Cultivation takes discipline. What has tormented me about Lent in my 12 years as a pastor is that discipline has been forced on me to the extent that I have taken on the disciplines of a particular congregation. These disciplines are not of my own choosing. Not to mention gearing up for two sets of sermons and worship services in a week is draining and exhausting. I find myself getting cranky and irritable during the time before Easter that was originally designed to prepare and welcome new converts to faith in Christ. I desire for Lent to be an opportunity for people rather than a burden. But then again, discipline is not easy. Forty days is not a random choice of number, but reminiscent of a period of testing and reflection, as with Jesus or Noah. If we move easily toward discipline, that might also be a little dangerous. Discipline has to be related to a goal, and the goal is to live joyously in Jesus Christ. Learning, connecting, praying, and serving.
My discipline for this Lenten season is approached with some trepidation. First, I don't like the word journey. I find it an overused word that has lost its meaning, and even sounds a little flaky. Second, Lent makes me a little cranky. Third, I'm still sorting out my relationship with discipline.
I chose the aforementioned book because I'm always curious about what it means to be a Lutheran Christian in these days when denominational affiliations are so fluid. I don't have the answers about what it means to be Lutheran, and I am highly suspicious of people who proclaim to be resolutely certain about Lutheran Christian identity. I have made vows in the Lutheran Christian tradition in my ordination, and I can also learn from Luther as an influential person in world history, a faithful (but by no means perfect), Christian, and a wise theologian/biblical scholar.
You are invited to join me in reading the Augsburg Books "40-Day Journey With Martin Luther" and joining in the discussion of reflections for journal writing. It is part of my discipline to pray, reflect and learn from and with a great teacher. Discipline is intended to be an opportunity, not a burden. Discipline is challenging, yet applied faithfully can reap a great harvest.
Questions for day 1:
Describe your present practice of prayer:
My most present effective method of prayer is setting aside a time during morning exercise. It's about the only time I have where I do not experience an interruption. Movement inspires blood flow, which not only relaxes me, but also gives my brain the blood and oxygen it needs for thought. I give thanks for God's work in the world and in my life. I give thanks for particular people in my life. I ask for guidance for the day and the days ahead. I pray for people who are hurting. I ask for forgiveness. I sometimes listen to music when I do this, most recently, I have Taize music on my iPod. After a time of prayer during running or walking, then I shuffle the music and see what prayerful thoughts arise.
What do I want to learn about the life of faith as I begin these 40 days?
I want to learn more about the faith of the person whose life and work was foundational for the tradition to which I ascribe. I am not looking to duplicate Luther's practices or faith necessarily, but I do want to spend time with him as a teacher of the faith. I hope to have my faith challenged. In all of this discipline activity that I may see the love, mercy and work of God in Christ.
Today, the writing from Luther implicitly speaking of discipline as dodging distractions, for they make us joyless in prayer. The biblical reference has some warrior imagery (Ephesians 6:17), that makes me cringe. However, the point is not to go to war literally, but have perseverance in dodging distractions that take the joy out of a relationship with God.
Discipline is an important concept for a Christian, particularly in the 40 days of Lent. Lent is a time to cultivate the life of faith in Christ so that that life can bear fruit in one's own life and in serving the neighbor. Cultivation takes discipline. What has tormented me about Lent in my 12 years as a pastor is that discipline has been forced on me to the extent that I have taken on the disciplines of a particular congregation. These disciplines are not of my own choosing. Not to mention gearing up for two sets of sermons and worship services in a week is draining and exhausting. I find myself getting cranky and irritable during the time before Easter that was originally designed to prepare and welcome new converts to faith in Christ. I desire for Lent to be an opportunity for people rather than a burden. But then again, discipline is not easy. Forty days is not a random choice of number, but reminiscent of a period of testing and reflection, as with Jesus or Noah. If we move easily toward discipline, that might also be a little dangerous. Discipline has to be related to a goal, and the goal is to live joyously in Jesus Christ. Learning, connecting, praying, and serving.
My discipline for this Lenten season is approached with some trepidation. First, I don't like the word journey. I find it an overused word that has lost its meaning, and even sounds a little flaky. Second, Lent makes me a little cranky. Third, I'm still sorting out my relationship with discipline.
I chose the aforementioned book because I'm always curious about what it means to be a Lutheran Christian in these days when denominational affiliations are so fluid. I don't have the answers about what it means to be Lutheran, and I am highly suspicious of people who proclaim to be resolutely certain about Lutheran Christian identity. I have made vows in the Lutheran Christian tradition in my ordination, and I can also learn from Luther as an influential person in world history, a faithful (but by no means perfect), Christian, and a wise theologian/biblical scholar.
You are invited to join me in reading the Augsburg Books "40-Day Journey With Martin Luther" and joining in the discussion of reflections for journal writing. It is part of my discipline to pray, reflect and learn from and with a great teacher. Discipline is intended to be an opportunity, not a burden. Discipline is challenging, yet applied faithfully can reap a great harvest.
Questions for day 1:
Describe your present practice of prayer:
My most present effective method of prayer is setting aside a time during morning exercise. It's about the only time I have where I do not experience an interruption. Movement inspires blood flow, which not only relaxes me, but also gives my brain the blood and oxygen it needs for thought. I give thanks for God's work in the world and in my life. I give thanks for particular people in my life. I ask for guidance for the day and the days ahead. I pray for people who are hurting. I ask for forgiveness. I sometimes listen to music when I do this, most recently, I have Taize music on my iPod. After a time of prayer during running or walking, then I shuffle the music and see what prayerful thoughts arise.
What do I want to learn about the life of faith as I begin these 40 days?
I want to learn more about the faith of the person whose life and work was foundational for the tradition to which I ascribe. I am not looking to duplicate Luther's practices or faith necessarily, but I do want to spend time with him as a teacher of the faith. I hope to have my faith challenged. In all of this discipline activity that I may see the love, mercy and work of God in Christ.
Today, the writing from Luther implicitly speaking of discipline as dodging distractions, for they make us joyless in prayer. The biblical reference has some warrior imagery (Ephesians 6:17), that makes me cringe. However, the point is not to go to war literally, but have perseverance in dodging distractions that take the joy out of a relationship with God.
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