Today I've been working with theory and practice related to sociology of religion. I love this stuff. Almost can't get enough of it. Especially when something happens in the daily activity of ministry, and I visualize a constructing bridge cantilevering over the chasm between academia and ministry. Three hours of thinking, posting, praying, reading. It felt like 15 minutes. I was in a zone, in a place for me where I know the Holy Spirit resides. It doesn't get much better than that for me.
Today was also the day my oldest daughter had her first day of school. I remember watching The Cosby Show as a kid and the celebration Cliff and Claire Huxtable used to have on the first day of school. I was feeling that. I love my daughter, and I will miss her while she is at school in a matter of days. A little lost in the shuffle is my 4 year old, who doesn't start preschool until next week. She kept coming in to talk to me (as she is prone to do) while I was giddy with idea flow, and I was too dismissive of her conversation. I looked to the heavens for a little insight, and I remembered a teacher of mine who spoke to me from the cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1).
The cloud of witnesses are supposed to be the heroes of the faith. This was not my favorite teacher, one that often perturbed me. However, I remembered some wise words I received about how he was once taught that church life and pursuits always came first in ministry, and following that was the most significant regret in a life of ministry. The cloud of witnesses and the Holy Spirit directed me to get on my knees, look my daughter in the eye and say "Let's play a game. How about Candy Land?" I was moved to think about how she moved into the cloud of witnesses. That cloud allowed me to be thankful for the joy in the presence of God, joy in the flow of ideas, and joy in the simple connection of the moment. All in the midst of things that could have just as easily annoyed me. Thanks be to God.
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
A story from an introverted parent
Today's post is rooted in thanks to colleague and fellow Mariner and Huskies fan Adam McHugh.
I appreciate his invitation to write as guest blogger on McHugh's website, Introverted Church. If you want to explore in depth regarding introverted spirituality, I commend McHugh's book to you.
Parenting as an introvert is not any more challenging than any other parenting point of reference, but the approach and reflections are different. I will be doing less parenting at home in the coming months, and Adam provided me an opportunity to reflect on the changing seasons of parenting and vocation in my household. I am thankful for the opportunity.
I appreciate his invitation to write as guest blogger on McHugh's website, Introverted Church. If you want to explore in depth regarding introverted spirituality, I commend McHugh's book to you.
Parenting as an introvert is not any more challenging than any other parenting point of reference, but the approach and reflections are different. I will be doing less parenting at home in the coming months, and Adam provided me an opportunity to reflect on the changing seasons of parenting and vocation in my household. I am thankful for the opportunity.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Another untimely review: Conviction
What am I willing to sacrifice in order to pursue a life passion? Does a life passion take on a different scope if that passion is a family member?
At one point in the film Conviction, Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) has been advocating and fighting for her brother (Sam Rockwell), convicted of murder for nearly two decades. She sacrificed her marriage (it ended in divorce) and nearly gave up her relationships with her children in order to prove her brother was wrongly convicted. Waters graduated from law school and passed the bar in order to serve as her brother's council for his murder case. She went through well over a decade without a friend, except for a fellow law student (Minnie Driver) who doggedly befriended Waters and endured Waters' tireless work and persistence in obtaining anything that could help her brother. In a conversation with her two teenage sons, one of the sons states that Betty had given up her live to save Uncle Kenny. Waters paused, looked at her son incredulously, as if the concept of sacrifice never crossed her mind.
The title of the film is a perfect play on words and a deep reflection on the nature of passion. Surely, it is a good story about the pitfalls of any justice system, but for me this was a film about the relationship between conviction and passion. Waters was depicted as someone who did not see herself as passionate or one who sacrificed. The other question that came up in conversation about the story with my wife was whether Waters' relationship with her brother was unhealthy. This was a sibling pair who could be analyzed in psychological parlance as "fused," rooted in growing up together in an abusive household. I wonder if Waters (as she is depicted) is a Christ-like figure. Christians for centuries have written, taught and preached to fellow Christians and the world that we should reflect and embody Christ's "sacrifice" for humanity. I am not a Christian proponent of a sacrificial Christology. The sacrificial nomenclature is hard to escape in the Bible and Christian theology, and I though I don't wholeheartedly reject it, I don't embrace it.
Looking into the character of Waters and her (loving? obsessing?) pursuit of securing the freedom of her brother, I can't help but think of Jesus. In my limited knowledge of the Bible and theology, I can't recall anyone who bothered to ask Jesus whether he believed that his death was a sacrifice to him (and I would be glad to learn from my readers where I could find further reading on this topic) or whether theology has bothered to ask the question about the nature of sacrifice as it relates to love. In addition, how is a sacrifice beneficial (or even loving) to a relationship if the person who made the sacrifice for the "sake of the relationship" has to constantly remind the other person that they made the sacrifice in the first place?
Over the years in my life of Christian faith, I've been asked to accept the idea of Christ's sacrifice at face value, that I had better appreciate it and think about it to the point of guilt and shame. Only then will I have faith. Until my work with my theological education teachers (mostly Pat Keifert and Walter Sundberg at Luther Seminary) I had not considered the multiple dimensions of sacrifice in the Christian faith and theological discourse. Conviction serves as a reminder of the multiple dimensions of understanding sacrifices and relationships. There's plenty of guilt and shame to go around in the world, and I am thankful for the love and grace I have received in the body of Christ. Many have lovingly given in more ways than I can count so that I may have a better life (did they always see it as a sacrifice?). Watching Conviction offered me some new questions and insights to the interplay of love, justice, sacrifice, guilt and relationships. It wasn't a sacrifice for me to give up four dollars and two hours to watch the film.
At one point in the film Conviction, Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) has been advocating and fighting for her brother (Sam Rockwell), convicted of murder for nearly two decades. She sacrificed her marriage (it ended in divorce) and nearly gave up her relationships with her children in order to prove her brother was wrongly convicted. Waters graduated from law school and passed the bar in order to serve as her brother's council for his murder case. She went through well over a decade without a friend, except for a fellow law student (Minnie Driver) who doggedly befriended Waters and endured Waters' tireless work and persistence in obtaining anything that could help her brother. In a conversation with her two teenage sons, one of the sons states that Betty had given up her live to save Uncle Kenny. Waters paused, looked at her son incredulously, as if the concept of sacrifice never crossed her mind.
The title of the film is a perfect play on words and a deep reflection on the nature of passion. Surely, it is a good story about the pitfalls of any justice system, but for me this was a film about the relationship between conviction and passion. Waters was depicted as someone who did not see herself as passionate or one who sacrificed. The other question that came up in conversation about the story with my wife was whether Waters' relationship with her brother was unhealthy. This was a sibling pair who could be analyzed in psychological parlance as "fused," rooted in growing up together in an abusive household. I wonder if Waters (as she is depicted) is a Christ-like figure. Christians for centuries have written, taught and preached to fellow Christians and the world that we should reflect and embody Christ's "sacrifice" for humanity. I am not a Christian proponent of a sacrificial Christology. The sacrificial nomenclature is hard to escape in the Bible and Christian theology, and I though I don't wholeheartedly reject it, I don't embrace it.
Looking into the character of Waters and her (loving? obsessing?) pursuit of securing the freedom of her brother, I can't help but think of Jesus. In my limited knowledge of the Bible and theology, I can't recall anyone who bothered to ask Jesus whether he believed that his death was a sacrifice to him (and I would be glad to learn from my readers where I could find further reading on this topic) or whether theology has bothered to ask the question about the nature of sacrifice as it relates to love. In addition, how is a sacrifice beneficial (or even loving) to a relationship if the person who made the sacrifice for the "sake of the relationship" has to constantly remind the other person that they made the sacrifice in the first place?
Over the years in my life of Christian faith, I've been asked to accept the idea of Christ's sacrifice at face value, that I had better appreciate it and think about it to the point of guilt and shame. Only then will I have faith. Until my work with my theological education teachers (mostly Pat Keifert and Walter Sundberg at Luther Seminary) I had not considered the multiple dimensions of sacrifice in the Christian faith and theological discourse. Conviction serves as a reminder of the multiple dimensions of understanding sacrifices and relationships. There's plenty of guilt and shame to go around in the world, and I am thankful for the love and grace I have received in the body of Christ. Many have lovingly given in more ways than I can count so that I may have a better life (did they always see it as a sacrifice?). Watching Conviction offered me some new questions and insights to the interplay of love, justice, sacrifice, guilt and relationships. It wasn't a sacrifice for me to give up four dollars and two hours to watch the film.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Escaping the Tyranny of the Urgent: Opportunity for a Grounded Life
What makes a fulfilled day for me (in no particular order)?
1. Exercise
2. Prayer
3. Reading
4. Writing
5. Connecting with loved ones
6. Organizing
7. An additional intentional, thoughtful creative act
Sometimes these acts are dovetailed together. For example, sometimes I pray while I exercise. Sometimes I connect with loved ones through reading or writing. Outside of leading in congregational life (I am currently without a congregation), I have no excuses not to do each of these seven things each day. I don't have an excuse to not do these even when I'm working outside the home, but sometimes the tyranny of the urgent takes my focus off these things that ground me. This time in between congregations for me is a time to get grounded (in the positive sense).
What are your actions for a fulfilled day?
1. Exercise
2. Prayer
3. Reading
4. Writing
5. Connecting with loved ones
6. Organizing
7. An additional intentional, thoughtful creative act
Sometimes these acts are dovetailed together. For example, sometimes I pray while I exercise. Sometimes I connect with loved ones through reading or writing. Outside of leading in congregational life (I am currently without a congregation), I have no excuses not to do each of these seven things each day. I don't have an excuse to not do these even when I'm working outside the home, but sometimes the tyranny of the urgent takes my focus off these things that ground me. This time in between congregations for me is a time to get grounded (in the positive sense).
What are your actions for a fulfilled day?
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.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Salary, pension, insurance, oh my! The next chapter awaits...
Once in awhile I share a conversation with a pastor 30-50 years older than me (though it's been a few years). With a little digging I can find a story about a struggle to provide the basics of life for their families. Salaries were small. Health insurance didn't exist. A pension? Unthinkable. Inevitably, I'll find a story about how a pastor was compensated with food. A pig here, several chickens there, 6-months supply of venison there. I'm glad I do not have to live like that.
I consider life's needs as I approach my next ministry chapter. I will no longer be compensated sometime in April, and I'll have to find a way to contribute to the household without piling thousands of dollars in the family coffers (that go out as quickly as they come in). I may have a few supply preaching opportunities. I'll clip more coupons and more closely watch the grocery budget. Exercises in leisure time will be dances in frugality. We've done this before and we can do it again. This chapter of ministry does not begin with worry.
I'm thinking about the two and three chapters ahead. I think back to earlier chapters, recalling my colleagues and friends retreat from challenging their congregations for fear of losing their health insurance, not receive a much-needed raise, or be forced into retirement sooner than they imagined. Maybe leadership decisions are not directly related to home balance sheets on a day to day basis, but the decisions where a pastor might overlook a ministry issue for self-preservation accumulate. Congregations also collect these behaviors in the name of self-preservation--not wanting to offend Jane and John Pewsitter for fear of losing their offering.
I never wish for a day I will be paid in pigs. I'm thankful for the church contributing so that I can make a good living. But I don't want to compromise a calling or a decision because my daughter needs a treatment or my wife needs glasses. Congregations do not want to limit their leadership in order to meet a budget, but the make their own compromises. With self-preservation in the backdrop, I wonder what will be the title of my next chapter in ministry. I ponder finding a "non-ministry" job that can help my family thrive while leading a ministry during the after work hours.
The church will never be void of politics, power struggles or leadership failures if pastors find their incomes in places besides the congregations they serve. As the dreams of God cascade through my mind about the justice, kindness and humble connections with God and neighbor, I wonder if I should put more energy into fulfilling my call rather than keeping my call. Congregations and pastors are spiraling downward in a whirlpool of self-preservation. Ministry should not suffer because of that spiral.
This is one reason that I am thankful for the struggling economy; would I even be thinking about self-preservation issues without it? Would I be thinking about boundless mercy of God or the benefits of comfortable living?
I consider life's needs as I approach my next ministry chapter. I will no longer be compensated sometime in April, and I'll have to find a way to contribute to the household without piling thousands of dollars in the family coffers (that go out as quickly as they come in). I may have a few supply preaching opportunities. I'll clip more coupons and more closely watch the grocery budget. Exercises in leisure time will be dances in frugality. We've done this before and we can do it again. This chapter of ministry does not begin with worry.
I'm thinking about the two and three chapters ahead. I think back to earlier chapters, recalling my colleagues and friends retreat from challenging their congregations for fear of losing their health insurance, not receive a much-needed raise, or be forced into retirement sooner than they imagined. Maybe leadership decisions are not directly related to home balance sheets on a day to day basis, but the decisions where a pastor might overlook a ministry issue for self-preservation accumulate. Congregations also collect these behaviors in the name of self-preservation--not wanting to offend Jane and John Pewsitter for fear of losing their offering.
I never wish for a day I will be paid in pigs. I'm thankful for the church contributing so that I can make a good living. But I don't want to compromise a calling or a decision because my daughter needs a treatment or my wife needs glasses. Congregations do not want to limit their leadership in order to meet a budget, but the make their own compromises. With self-preservation in the backdrop, I wonder what will be the title of my next chapter in ministry. I ponder finding a "non-ministry" job that can help my family thrive while leading a ministry during the after work hours.
The church will never be void of politics, power struggles or leadership failures if pastors find their incomes in places besides the congregations they serve. As the dreams of God cascade through my mind about the justice, kindness and humble connections with God and neighbor, I wonder if I should put more energy into fulfilling my call rather than keeping my call. Congregations and pastors are spiraling downward in a whirlpool of self-preservation. Ministry should not suffer because of that spiral.
This is one reason that I am thankful for the struggling economy; would I even be thinking about self-preservation issues without it? Would I be thinking about boundless mercy of God or the benefits of comfortable living?
Friday, February 4, 2011
Unplanned sabbaticals
In interim ministry, I often look at the calendar in anticipation of the next pastor's arrival. I usually exhale, much like the congregation. Sometimes my exhale lasts a few months after I say my thank yous and good byes to my partners in ministry. This will be my last unplanned sabbatical.
I always have a few projects and goals. Envelop myself as a house husband for a few months. Clip more coupons, find where I can buy the cheapest fresh spinach, work toward a deeper sense of household feng shui. Write more. Exercise more. Read more Bible. Facilitate more peace for wife and daughters through order, sleep better, and purge the stuff that creeps into the house, multiplying like termites. Too much plastic, too much paper, too many unused tools. They all sounded good at first glance, but they all clog my life as my pores clogged as a teenager. Sabbatical is more than rest. Sabbatical works like astringent.
I have a project that continues to provoke my soul, and it feels like make or break time. I don't need money. I only need time. I haven't given up on the dream of another degree. The formal path does not work for my family and me. If I am truly passionate about religion in the Salish Sea region, the research and information gathering beckons. It matters not whether others find it interesting, because it is the story of my life to be learned and told. My sabbatical is one month away. Intentional rest, intentional work. Outside of visiting my brother in Edmonton, I will avoid driving, for that has been my part-time job during my current interim ministry. Commuting alone (or with my daughters) by car kills me.
During my longer tenure as a house husband, I embodied a few lessons taught to me by monks in the District of Columbia and my spiritual director in Sioux Falls.
1. Raising young children is similar to a monastic life.
2. Manual labor is a form of prayer.
Though networking will be on my sabbatical agenda (the next ministry awaits on the other side). I hope the wisdom of God and my prayers and the prayers of those who love me will shape my next season of life and ministry. God saw that the creation was good in sabbatical, and I am visualizing the most fulfilling unplanned sabbatical yet. I know it won't completely go in the rudimentary plans I formulate today, but I know the Holy Spirit will move in those days.
I always have a few projects and goals. Envelop myself as a house husband for a few months. Clip more coupons, find where I can buy the cheapest fresh spinach, work toward a deeper sense of household feng shui. Write more. Exercise more. Read more Bible. Facilitate more peace for wife and daughters through order, sleep better, and purge the stuff that creeps into the house, multiplying like termites. Too much plastic, too much paper, too many unused tools. They all sounded good at first glance, but they all clog my life as my pores clogged as a teenager. Sabbatical is more than rest. Sabbatical works like astringent.
I have a project that continues to provoke my soul, and it feels like make or break time. I don't need money. I only need time. I haven't given up on the dream of another degree. The formal path does not work for my family and me. If I am truly passionate about religion in the Salish Sea region, the research and information gathering beckons. It matters not whether others find it interesting, because it is the story of my life to be learned and told. My sabbatical is one month away. Intentional rest, intentional work. Outside of visiting my brother in Edmonton, I will avoid driving, for that has been my part-time job during my current interim ministry. Commuting alone (or with my daughters) by car kills me.
During my longer tenure as a house husband, I embodied a few lessons taught to me by monks in the District of Columbia and my spiritual director in Sioux Falls.
1. Raising young children is similar to a monastic life.
2. Manual labor is a form of prayer.
Though networking will be on my sabbatical agenda (the next ministry awaits on the other side). I hope the wisdom of God and my prayers and the prayers of those who love me will shape my next season of life and ministry. God saw that the creation was good in sabbatical, and I am visualizing the most fulfilling unplanned sabbatical yet. I know it won't completely go in the rudimentary plans I formulate today, but I know the Holy Spirit will move in those days.
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.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Movie Reflection: Get Low
As a called and ordained minister of the Church of Christ, and by his authority, I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the +Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
For 10 years of my young life, The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, page 77 (coincidental to Mt 18:21-22?) in the The Lutheran Book of Worship (aka The Green Hymnal or the LBW) was my regular contact with the concept of forgiveness. I knew the page well, considering how the page curled from regular use, my ink-pen stained finger prints dotted the page, and the growing fuzzy edges prevented paper cuts. The LBW provided tactile reminders of sins committed and assurance of God's love in Christ, like a nun kneels and rubs her fingers along beads of a rosary. The "Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness" was usually the first act of public worship each Sunday morning. Alongside the sermon, the confession had the most impact on me in early Christian life. This practice suited me not because it's fun, but because I am a naturally reflective person. Where have I been? Where am I going? What is my relationship with God? I could ponder those questions for years, but in the span of a few minutes, my reflections and redemption took shape. Even though I have felt the impact of sin and the liberation of redemption, the power of confession and forgiveness can still be elusive.
Imagine reflecting upon haunting sins and the elusiveness of forgiveness for a span of 40-plus years. Though I could only imagine that kind of torment, the storytelling of the film Get Low took me inside one man's understanding of love, sin, forgiveness, penance and redemption--and how his thoughts and actions influenced others' views and actions. The film is a 1930's period piece from the Bible Belt with an interesting connection to my own faith tradition in the Evangelical Lutheran Church In America. The film made me realize the gift of confession and forgiveness in the life of the church and my own faith, but it also made me realize how the church's rituals and teaching can be deficient in people's real lives. The confession and forgiveness practice can be programmed and sometimes rote, and life in between the rituals and proclamations is much messier than people (clergy included) care to often times understand.
Though forgiveness is the driving theme, the story telling is well crafted and the character development, cinematography, and top notch Bluegrass music (Jerry Douglass and Alison Krauss, to name a few) maximize the theme's impact. Because the film is based on a true story, some details could not be fictionally created (you can't make this stuff up!). After 40-plus years living the life of a hermit, Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) comes to town wanting to throw a funeral party, his own, before he dies. The meaning of this funeral party is revealed through his interactions with a local funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), his assistant (Lucas Black), two preachers, and an old friend (Sissy Spacek), and other town folk. For Frank Quinn, the funeral is unorthodox, but an opportunity to revive his sagging funeral business. For his assistant, his sense of right and wrong is constantly challenged.
A few sub themes worth noting in "Get Low" include the understanding of vocation in the world and how it is shared. Another sub-theme deals with how little people really know about one another--even in a small town. Another involves reflections upon integrity in the midst of personal identity and promises kept. It's one thing to teach, preach or discuss themes of sin, confession, forgiveness, redemption, vocation, relationships, promises, integrity and peace. Video is a special medium--and film story telling is a unique opportunity for impact, with the cinematography, music, and acting interpretation. Not only is the story and it's themes powerful because of the film making quality, but the humor is prevalent and disarming, but not distracting or trite. I can only tell you so much. Go see the film. Take adults. Take teenagers. Take someone you love. Talk about the film with one another. Journal about the film. Blog about the film. Tweet about the film.
For readers in the Puget Sound area, my wife and I viewed the film at Grand Cinema in Tacoma. This was our first trip to the Grand, and it represents all that is good about a trip to the movies--a non-profit cinema with lower prices and smaller concessions, staffed by friendly volunteers in a well-cared for setting both inside and out. We will go back because of the mission and the experience at the Grand.
For 10 years of my young life, The Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness, page 77 (coincidental to Mt 18:21-22?) in the The Lutheran Book of Worship (aka The Green Hymnal or the LBW) was my regular contact with the concept of forgiveness. I knew the page well, considering how the page curled from regular use, my ink-pen stained finger prints dotted the page, and the growing fuzzy edges prevented paper cuts. The LBW provided tactile reminders of sins committed and assurance of God's love in Christ, like a nun kneels and rubs her fingers along beads of a rosary. The "Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness" was usually the first act of public worship each Sunday morning. Alongside the sermon, the confession had the most impact on me in early Christian life. This practice suited me not because it's fun, but because I am a naturally reflective person. Where have I been? Where am I going? What is my relationship with God? I could ponder those questions for years, but in the span of a few minutes, my reflections and redemption took shape. Even though I have felt the impact of sin and the liberation of redemption, the power of confession and forgiveness can still be elusive.
Imagine reflecting upon haunting sins and the elusiveness of forgiveness for a span of 40-plus years. Though I could only imagine that kind of torment, the storytelling of the film Get Low took me inside one man's understanding of love, sin, forgiveness, penance and redemption--and how his thoughts and actions influenced others' views and actions. The film is a 1930's period piece from the Bible Belt with an interesting connection to my own faith tradition in the Evangelical Lutheran Church In America. The film made me realize the gift of confession and forgiveness in the life of the church and my own faith, but it also made me realize how the church's rituals and teaching can be deficient in people's real lives. The confession and forgiveness practice can be programmed and sometimes rote, and life in between the rituals and proclamations is much messier than people (clergy included) care to often times understand.
Though forgiveness is the driving theme, the story telling is well crafted and the character development, cinematography, and top notch Bluegrass music (Jerry Douglass and Alison Krauss, to name a few) maximize the theme's impact. Because the film is based on a true story, some details could not be fictionally created (you can't make this stuff up!). After 40-plus years living the life of a hermit, Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) comes to town wanting to throw a funeral party, his own, before he dies. The meaning of this funeral party is revealed through his interactions with a local funeral director Frank Quinn (Bill Murray), his assistant (Lucas Black), two preachers, and an old friend (Sissy Spacek), and other town folk. For Frank Quinn, the funeral is unorthodox, but an opportunity to revive his sagging funeral business. For his assistant, his sense of right and wrong is constantly challenged.
A few sub themes worth noting in "Get Low" include the understanding of vocation in the world and how it is shared. Another sub-theme deals with how little people really know about one another--even in a small town. Another involves reflections upon integrity in the midst of personal identity and promises kept. It's one thing to teach, preach or discuss themes of sin, confession, forgiveness, redemption, vocation, relationships, promises, integrity and peace. Video is a special medium--and film story telling is a unique opportunity for impact, with the cinematography, music, and acting interpretation. Not only is the story and it's themes powerful because of the film making quality, but the humor is prevalent and disarming, but not distracting or trite. I can only tell you so much. Go see the film. Take adults. Take teenagers. Take someone you love. Talk about the film with one another. Journal about the film. Blog about the film. Tweet about the film.
For readers in the Puget Sound area, my wife and I viewed the film at Grand Cinema in Tacoma. This was our first trip to the Grand, and it represents all that is good about a trip to the movies--a non-profit cinema with lower prices and smaller concessions, staffed by friendly volunteers in a well-cared for setting both inside and out. We will go back because of the mission and the experience at the Grand.
Friday, July 30, 2010
The Cautionary Tale of the Whitman Mission
While I lived in South Dakota, I read about anything I could about the Pacific Northwest. I missed the connections to the familiar, comforting, yet mystifying land. I missed the mist on my skin that dampened me, yet didn't get me wet. I missed the salty air that reminded me of the bountiful sea and all its creatures, both familiar and alien. I missed the evergreens that served as green sentries that guided my paths. Though I could only visit my beloved Washington about once or twice per year, through the research and story telling of others, my own stories, memories and observations were fertilized for a time when I would not be part of the Pacific Northwest diaspora, but a participant observer replanted in my land of origin.
Years passed before I made a connection between God and the land. I knew that God created the heavens and the Earth, but I was directed in my thoughts toward an understanding that God cared more about humans than the land itself. As I studied the Old Testament in seminary, I realized the land is a much more powerful character and player in biblical story and that place matters throughout scripture--though the land and place are not widely researched in theological circles, I have come to appreciate the distinctive nature of place sociologically and theologically. John Inge (a bishop in the Church of England) and Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann address theological questions of place and land.
While reading a Pacific Northwest history by Carlos Schwantes, I encountered a new story to me, the story of a massacre at the Whitman mission in southeast Washington state, near Walla Walla. On November 29, 1847, 13 people were killed at the mission site by peoples of the Cayuse and Umatilla tribes. Numerous interpretations of the events surrounding the massacre exist, but the story represents many tensions for me as a local theologian, pastor, student, and native of the Pacific Northwest. The Whitmans came to the region prepared to deliver their way of life to the Cayuse and Umatilla peoples--a way of life that included Jesus Christ, their own culture and agriculture. My impression of the Whitmans is that they saw their work as operating in a single direction. They were the givers and the aboriginal peoples were the receivers. I don't perceive much listening going on, only telling. Naturally, the Cayuse and Umatilla resisted ways contrary to their own way of life, especially so since they did not adapt to row crop cultivation well. It was challenging to learn about Jesus when row crops were seen as a path to Jesus. The Whitmans and their coworkers were carriers for a measles epidemic that wiped out half of the local tribe population. The tribes responded to these developments with violence, and the missionary endeavors in the area were ended for well over a generation.
I still have a lot to learn about the Whitman mission story. It may become a topic for deeper study in my future. On my recent family trip, my family and I visited the Whitman Mission National Historical Site (part of the National Park system). I hope to return when I have more research time and search some of the archives at nearby Whitman College. I learned much from this story and my own understanding of Christian ministry and mission. Some factors remain in my ongoing consideration:
1. The local religious landscape in the Pacific Northwest has always struggled to support Christian ministry and cultural endeavors related to Christian ministry for centuries. Though it is no longer at the bottom of the of the list of percentage of religious adherents (Maine is now at the bottom), it takes significantly more work for Christians to gain influence in the region than in other places where I have lived and worked.
2. Is there an appropriate balance between Christian ministry as proclamation and listening? In my early studies of the Whitman massacre, it appears that the actions of the Whitmans moved more toward proclamation than listening and understanding the Umatilla and Cayuse peoples. The Whitman story provides a cautionary tale for me on many levels. I believe in God's redemptive work through the Church, but am I the appropriate proclaimer? I find myself much more interested and driven to understand than to proclaim. Understanding is a relative term--it seems sometimes that the more I learn, the less I understand--but understanding is more about posture than accomplishment. Interim ministry for me has been a ministry of understanding congregations (again, understanding is relative), and using that understanding for the people of God in a particular place to follow their calling in God's preferred future for them.
3. Though it takes great courage and energy to make a proclamation (Marcus Whitman made several round trips from the mission to the East Coast to garner support for the mission in a time where such distance travel was tiring, dangerous and often deadly), sometimes I think it is much harder to listen, learn and understand--because the other cannot be controlled. The Whitmans did not have an opportunity to learn this lesson; they were killed before any change took place. This is part of the conflicting understanding about mission--I make quite a presumption when I think I know what is best for a group of people I serve, whereas we can take the opportunity to build relationship and name that God is already in that place, and together look at the Bible and look the culture and prayerfully see where God is together in hopes of imagining and living God's preferred future for that particular community.
I sometimes wonder whether these thoughts, experiences and learnings make me the right kind of pastor in this day and age, or whether I should find a different path to ministry. A colleague and friend once posed to me the key differences between proclamation and understanding and their relationship to vocation. I believe the distinction between proclamation and understanding is important, but the relationship to vocation is not so cut and dried. I may never feel comfortable in my vocation. I am provoked to proclamation, yet driven to understand. Through the Whitmans I read a cautionary tale, and I am alerted to the consequences on either end of the continuum of proclamation and understanding.
Years passed before I made a connection between God and the land. I knew that God created the heavens and the Earth, but I was directed in my thoughts toward an understanding that God cared more about humans than the land itself. As I studied the Old Testament in seminary, I realized the land is a much more powerful character and player in biblical story and that place matters throughout scripture--though the land and place are not widely researched in theological circles, I have come to appreciate the distinctive nature of place sociologically and theologically. John Inge (a bishop in the Church of England) and Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann address theological questions of place and land.
While reading a Pacific Northwest history by Carlos Schwantes, I encountered a new story to me, the story of a massacre at the Whitman mission in southeast Washington state, near Walla Walla. On November 29, 1847, 13 people were killed at the mission site by peoples of the Cayuse and Umatilla tribes. Numerous interpretations of the events surrounding the massacre exist, but the story represents many tensions for me as a local theologian, pastor, student, and native of the Pacific Northwest. The Whitmans came to the region prepared to deliver their way of life to the Cayuse and Umatilla peoples--a way of life that included Jesus Christ, their own culture and agriculture. My impression of the Whitmans is that they saw their work as operating in a single direction. They were the givers and the aboriginal peoples were the receivers. I don't perceive much listening going on, only telling. Naturally, the Cayuse and Umatilla resisted ways contrary to their own way of life, especially so since they did not adapt to row crop cultivation well. It was challenging to learn about Jesus when row crops were seen as a path to Jesus. The Whitmans and their coworkers were carriers for a measles epidemic that wiped out half of the local tribe population. The tribes responded to these developments with violence, and the missionary endeavors in the area were ended for well over a generation.
I still have a lot to learn about the Whitman mission story. It may become a topic for deeper study in my future. On my recent family trip, my family and I visited the Whitman Mission National Historical Site (part of the National Park system). I hope to return when I have more research time and search some of the archives at nearby Whitman College. I learned much from this story and my own understanding of Christian ministry and mission. Some factors remain in my ongoing consideration:
1. The local religious landscape in the Pacific Northwest has always struggled to support Christian ministry and cultural endeavors related to Christian ministry for centuries. Though it is no longer at the bottom of the of the list of percentage of religious adherents (Maine is now at the bottom), it takes significantly more work for Christians to gain influence in the region than in other places where I have lived and worked.
2. Is there an appropriate balance between Christian ministry as proclamation and listening? In my early studies of the Whitman massacre, it appears that the actions of the Whitmans moved more toward proclamation than listening and understanding the Umatilla and Cayuse peoples. The Whitman story provides a cautionary tale for me on many levels. I believe in God's redemptive work through the Church, but am I the appropriate proclaimer? I find myself much more interested and driven to understand than to proclaim. Understanding is a relative term--it seems sometimes that the more I learn, the less I understand--but understanding is more about posture than accomplishment. Interim ministry for me has been a ministry of understanding congregations (again, understanding is relative), and using that understanding for the people of God in a particular place to follow their calling in God's preferred future for them.
3. Though it takes great courage and energy to make a proclamation (Marcus Whitman made several round trips from the mission to the East Coast to garner support for the mission in a time where such distance travel was tiring, dangerous and often deadly), sometimes I think it is much harder to listen, learn and understand--because the other cannot be controlled. The Whitmans did not have an opportunity to learn this lesson; they were killed before any change took place. This is part of the conflicting understanding about mission--I make quite a presumption when I think I know what is best for a group of people I serve, whereas we can take the opportunity to build relationship and name that God is already in that place, and together look at the Bible and look the culture and prayerfully see where God is together in hopes of imagining and living God's preferred future for that particular community.
I sometimes wonder whether these thoughts, experiences and learnings make me the right kind of pastor in this day and age, or whether I should find a different path to ministry. A colleague and friend once posed to me the key differences between proclamation and understanding and their relationship to vocation. I believe the distinction between proclamation and understanding is important, but the relationship to vocation is not so cut and dried. I may never feel comfortable in my vocation. I am provoked to proclamation, yet driven to understand. Through the Whitmans I read a cautionary tale, and I am alerted to the consequences on either end of the continuum of proclamation and understanding.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The Mysterious Lives of Church Councils (or fill in the name for your governing board)
(Note: I do not know if the following analysis applies to any congregational board. My only experience rests with ELCA church councils and a session of a Presbyterian (PCUSA) congregation.)
ELCA Lutheran church councils live mysterious lives in their congregations. Congregations look to their council for leadership, but they don't exactly know what they do. Even members who serve on a church council may not be able to describe exactly what they do. One tangible product is a church budget. The rest of the a council's activity becomes a series of decisions of varying worth, lacking strategic nature. Council votes and decisions tend to reflect the degree of urgency in congregational life. Sometimes there are lots of decisions to be made. Sometimes councils can meet for several consecutive months without taking a vote. I think people who serve on church boards appreciate learning about the grace of God through congregational activity, but the general frustration or ennui is palpable in the leadership meeting room.
I write this post because I believe church councils are misused assets. Even though its members spend hours each month attending meetings and managing particular areas of ministry, the gifts of leaders are buried because the council lacks purpose. Council members lack clarity of purpose for their participation. Congregations and councils often lament that so few people are willing to serve on the council. I'm surprised that anyone will serve on a council, especially when they know the purpose and direction of the council is lacking beyond a budget or a particular project. Even if projects and goals are clear and tangible for the council, individual council members lack understanding of expectations for themselves. Here are some common issues I have seen on the governing board in the 10 congregations I have served as pastor and numerous others with which I consulted. I place these issues in two categories.
1. Issues related to expectations for council members:
2. Issues related to basic philosophy and theology of the existence of a council.
ELCA Lutheran church councils live mysterious lives in their congregations. Congregations look to their council for leadership, but they don't exactly know what they do. Even members who serve on a church council may not be able to describe exactly what they do. One tangible product is a church budget. The rest of the a council's activity becomes a series of decisions of varying worth, lacking strategic nature. Council votes and decisions tend to reflect the degree of urgency in congregational life. Sometimes there are lots of decisions to be made. Sometimes councils can meet for several consecutive months without taking a vote. I think people who serve on church boards appreciate learning about the grace of God through congregational activity, but the general frustration or ennui is palpable in the leadership meeting room.
I write this post because I believe church councils are misused assets. Even though its members spend hours each month attending meetings and managing particular areas of ministry, the gifts of leaders are buried because the council lacks purpose. Council members lack clarity of purpose for their participation. Congregations and councils often lament that so few people are willing to serve on the council. I'm surprised that anyone will serve on a council, especially when they know the purpose and direction of the council is lacking beyond a budget or a particular project. Even if projects and goals are clear and tangible for the council, individual council members lack understanding of expectations for themselves. Here are some common issues I have seen on the governing board in the 10 congregations I have served as pastor and numerous others with which I consulted. I place these issues in two categories.
1. Issues related to expectations for council members:
- Sometimes council members have no idea what is expected of them.
- Sometimes council members have served on a council for many years, and they end up confusing clear expectations for knowing the repetitive patterns and action of a council as well as their familiarity with congregational life
- Sometimes a council member has a job description, but the job description is too lengthy and detailed to be realistic or even read.
- Often times council members have had little or no training in order to fulfill the basic expectations placed on them.
- Many council members do not know how to lead or participate in a formal meeting.
2. Issues related to basic philosophy and theology of the existence of a council.
- I have never seen a council size appropriate for deliberation and leadership. The smallest governing board I have seen is 9, the largest is 23. If all the congregations I served were playing "The Price Is Right," bidding on the ideal size for a governing board, everyone would have lost the game because they overbid. I believe 5 on a council would be ideal, but no more than 7. I believe in this dynamic for many reasons--beginning with the next point.
- What is the true purpose of a congregational council? Is it to represent the desires of the congregation (often divided in separate ministry areas)? Or is the purpose of a council rooted in leadership? Representation and leadership are not mutually exclusive, but what trait is the higher priority? Leadership ability is almost always sacrificed for the sake of representation. I believe representation is overrated. Even if expectations for a council member are clear, representation can still run amok, leading to divisiveness as council members will sacrifice the good of the congregation for their given ministry area. Representation-heavy systems also seek to appease particular populations in the congregation. Representation should not be completely absent, but in congregations--representation is overrated.
- Which way does the power flow with a council? Does the council see itself as a permission giving body for the pastor and/or staff? Does the council spend its meeting time engaging an approval process for ministries? In order for a council to employ the gifts God has given them, a council cannot be good stewards of God's resources without congregational mission or vision. With a clear mission and vision that is owned by the congregation and propels them into service, a council can then serve as partners and helpers with the staff to fulfill the mission. If the council serves as gatekeepers for ministries, then pastors, staff members, even council members and committee chairs are subject to the whims of the congregation. Every congregational action is subjected to how people "feel" about the "job" that someone is doing. The hidden message to many pastors, staff, council members and committee chairs is "you're not meeting our expectations, but we're not going to bother telling you the expectations."
- Prayer, theological reflection, fellowship and devotional time are individually or as a whole group seen as a "waste of time" and "distracting from the purpose of the meeting." Through my study and practice in congregational systems theory, I can sum up my response to this resistance with a proverb: "The council which prays and plays together, stays together." People have a need for a healthy sense of closeness with God and one another. If a council is not brought together with prayer and play, they will find unhealthy means to get close--often through hostility and divisiveness. Prayer and fellowship are both part of the purpose of leadership, not mere spiritual or recreational diversions.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Congregational Bromides: "We need to have a leader/member/someone who represents the (fill in the blank) group."
Congregations regularly fill leadership positions to serve the church. Boards, councils, sessions, vestries, call/search committees frequently call upon a variety of leaders to serve. What are the criteria for selection into these leadership groups?
I receive puzzled looks when I ask this question. In most cases, people who serve congregational leadership groups are not serving tenured or lifetime appointment, as in a college or university, the House of Lords, or the Supreme Court. Therefore the congregation regularly discerns who will serve in leadership positions. They end up falling in a desperate trap because they don't have enough people to fill positions, and they rush to hopefully find a diverse group of folks to serve in a leadership role.
I find congregations have set up some default criteria for setting up their leadership groups.
1. Represent different as many different ministry areas, demographic groups, theological perspectives, worship style perspectives as possible.
2. Enlist as many people to serve with the leadership group as people are willing.
That's it.
Over the past few years I learned that some congregations are basing leadership ranks based on agreed marks of discipleship. The most common I've seen in ELCA congregations include:
Back to the congregational bromide. I think representation of particular demographic groups and ministry areas for leadership is overrated. I did not say unnecessary, but that it tends to be the only stated (albeit loosely) criterion. Though this single standard could work (why not cast lots instead), I think the odds are low that a group based merely on representation will work. Without criteria and expectations for a leadership roster, it's more likely to have a group with members entrenched in their own perspective and "getting what's coming to them (or what they deserve)" rather than following through on the tasks of leadership. Representing what is important to you or your constituents as the only criterion for leadership moves toward divisiveness, cutoff and resentment over compromises.
Representation in congregation is important, but is overrated.
I receive puzzled looks when I ask this question. In most cases, people who serve congregational leadership groups are not serving tenured or lifetime appointment, as in a college or university, the House of Lords, or the Supreme Court. Therefore the congregation regularly discerns who will serve in leadership positions. They end up falling in a desperate trap because they don't have enough people to fill positions, and they rush to hopefully find a diverse group of folks to serve in a leadership role.
I find congregations have set up some default criteria for setting up their leadership groups.
1. Represent different as many different ministry areas, demographic groups, theological perspectives, worship style perspectives as possible.
2. Enlist as many people to serve with the leadership group as people are willing.
That's it.
Over the past few years I learned that some congregations are basing leadership ranks based on agreed marks of discipleship. The most common I've seen in ELCA congregations include:
- Prayer
- Worship
- Bible Reading
- Service to God and To Others
- Giving - Time, Talent, and Treasure
- Encouraging Others to Grow
Back to the congregational bromide. I think representation of particular demographic groups and ministry areas for leadership is overrated. I did not say unnecessary, but that it tends to be the only stated (albeit loosely) criterion. Though this single standard could work (why not cast lots instead), I think the odds are low that a group based merely on representation will work. Without criteria and expectations for a leadership roster, it's more likely to have a group with members entrenched in their own perspective and "getting what's coming to them (or what they deserve)" rather than following through on the tasks of leadership. Representing what is important to you or your constituents as the only criterion for leadership moves toward divisiveness, cutoff and resentment over compromises.
Representation in congregation is important, but is overrated.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Congregational Bromides: "We are a generous church."
Congregations, like people, are skittish related to money conversations. The tension has heightened for households and congregations in the ELCA. Some people and congregations chose to withhold offerings from congregations and synods related to Churchwide Assembly 2009 decisions concerning same sex relationships and clergy. The climate for stewardship was already challenging. In the midst of the tension related to money, congregations often make statements about the generous culture of the church, the generosity of their members, or the generosity of the leadership. What is the standard for generosity?
Public discourse often falls into the trap of emphasis on who gives the most. The person or organization that makes the big gift is lauded for their contribution. Large gifts are important for any non-profit type of organization, but a church has a calling to teach people about giving. Giving is one of the most referenced concepts in the entire Bible, more than love, prayer, and forgiveness combined. Before elaborating on generosity standards, consider these points:
1. Giving to religious organizations in the United States on average represents approximately 1-2% of annual household income. This figure is frequently referenced by church leaders and teachers, and this academic research confirms that publicly affirmed figure.
2. Related to point #1, in an anecdotal observation of giving in the Southwestern Washington Synod of the ELCA using (self-reported) congregational trend report statistics, the average giving amount per person in average worship attendance mostly falls in a range of $1000-$1500 annually to the congregation. This means that if your congregation has an average worship attendance of 100, your congregation's average offering income is $100K-150K per year. I'm investigating how that corresponds to how congregations give to their synods/ELCA. Once I gather that information, I'll post an update.
3. I think congregational leaders like to use the word "generous" referencing member giving because of the sense of relief they feel when a budget is met, a major project is completed, or a disaster strikes (Katrina, Haiti, North Dakota flooding, etc.) People indeed make an extra effort to meet certain needs in congregational life. People do give, but is it generous?
Many questions arise after the establishment of a simple giving standard. The biblical standard for giving is 10 percent of income--off the top (aka "first fruits giving). Does the 10 percent have to go to a local congregation first? Can a portion of the 10 percent giving go to other charitable organizations? Is the percentage of giving tabulated before or after taxes? These are interesting questions.
I have yet to reach a conclusion about the nature and scope about generosity, but I look for things that communicate generosity. Some points of generosity can be measured, others can't.
1. Sacrificial giving--do people or organizations actually give up something in order to help others? Or do they go deeper into debt while giving to others?
2. Growth in giving--if a giving standard of 10 percent is not met, then is the congregation growing in its giving, like half a percent growth in giving per year over a multiple year period?
3. Does a congregation extend its giving beyond 10 percent? I remember a challenge years ago when I served in the Greater Milwaukee Synod, when Bishop Peter Rogness invited us to consider becoming 50/50 congregations, sending out 50 percent of what we take in. I always aspired to serve that kind of congregation, but I have yet to experience first hand that kind of giving. Getting to 10 percent is challenging enough, and occasionally I experience something slightly over 10 percent.
4. I believe that true generosity reflects grace. Arguing and bickering about percentages misses the mark for grace. If giving leaves people feeling sour, the the giving and generous spirit is buried. One of the great congregational leaders with whom I worked, Otis Timm, told me instead of giving until it hurts, to give until it feels good. In his honor I called my stewardship newsletter, "Feel Good Giving."
What I find interesting is that congregational leadership wants people in their congregation to tithe, yet they struggle to tithe themselves. I learned holding an expectation rings hollow when leaders are not willing to do it themselves.Before I drift too far on a negative path, I must share that giving is not what makes people right with God. Giving is our response to God's love for us. But I do believe generosity can change the world. A self-giving, generous God in Jesus Christ gave to the point of a brutal death. In this example, generosity reflects going beyond expectations with giving and grace. My hope is that congregations reflect upon their usage of generosity and their proclamations of generosity in congregational life.
Public discourse often falls into the trap of emphasis on who gives the most. The person or organization that makes the big gift is lauded for their contribution. Large gifts are important for any non-profit type of organization, but a church has a calling to teach people about giving. Giving is one of the most referenced concepts in the entire Bible, more than love, prayer, and forgiveness combined. Before elaborating on generosity standards, consider these points:
1. Giving to religious organizations in the United States on average represents approximately 1-2% of annual household income. This figure is frequently referenced by church leaders and teachers, and this academic research confirms that publicly affirmed figure.
2. Related to point #1, in an anecdotal observation of giving in the Southwestern Washington Synod of the ELCA using (self-reported) congregational trend report statistics, the average giving amount per person in average worship attendance mostly falls in a range of $1000-$1500 annually to the congregation. This means that if your congregation has an average worship attendance of 100, your congregation's average offering income is $100K-150K per year. I'm investigating how that corresponds to how congregations give to their synods/ELCA. Once I gather that information, I'll post an update.
3. I think congregational leaders like to use the word "generous" referencing member giving because of the sense of relief they feel when a budget is met, a major project is completed, or a disaster strikes (Katrina, Haiti, North Dakota flooding, etc.) People indeed make an extra effort to meet certain needs in congregational life. People do give, but is it generous?
Many questions arise after the establishment of a simple giving standard. The biblical standard for giving is 10 percent of income--off the top (aka "first fruits giving). Does the 10 percent have to go to a local congregation first? Can a portion of the 10 percent giving go to other charitable organizations? Is the percentage of giving tabulated before or after taxes? These are interesting questions.
I have yet to reach a conclusion about the nature and scope about generosity, but I look for things that communicate generosity. Some points of generosity can be measured, others can't.
1. Sacrificial giving--do people or organizations actually give up something in order to help others? Or do they go deeper into debt while giving to others?
2. Growth in giving--if a giving standard of 10 percent is not met, then is the congregation growing in its giving, like half a percent growth in giving per year over a multiple year period?
3. Does a congregation extend its giving beyond 10 percent? I remember a challenge years ago when I served in the Greater Milwaukee Synod, when Bishop Peter Rogness invited us to consider becoming 50/50 congregations, sending out 50 percent of what we take in. I always aspired to serve that kind of congregation, but I have yet to experience first hand that kind of giving. Getting to 10 percent is challenging enough, and occasionally I experience something slightly over 10 percent.
4. I believe that true generosity reflects grace. Arguing and bickering about percentages misses the mark for grace. If giving leaves people feeling sour, the the giving and generous spirit is buried. One of the great congregational leaders with whom I worked, Otis Timm, told me instead of giving until it hurts, to give until it feels good. In his honor I called my stewardship newsletter, "Feel Good Giving."
What I find interesting is that congregational leadership wants people in their congregation to tithe, yet they struggle to tithe themselves. I learned holding an expectation rings hollow when leaders are not willing to do it themselves.Before I drift too far on a negative path, I must share that giving is not what makes people right with God. Giving is our response to God's love for us. But I do believe generosity can change the world. A self-giving, generous God in Jesus Christ gave to the point of a brutal death. In this example, generosity reflects going beyond expectations with giving and grace. My hope is that congregations reflect upon their usage of generosity and their proclamations of generosity in congregational life.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Preaching from the book of Judges (part 2):
I've taken a different path on Palm/Passion Sunday this year--the manner in which it developed is the leading of the Holy Spirit, because I have been led to Christ.
Several months ago, an expanding group of ministers/volunteers at First Lutheran Community Church formed an outreach that would meet people in their vocation with the grace of God. We spend so much of our lives in our work, that God's presence should be proclaimed in the midst of that work. I wanted to proclaim God's presence and offer encouragement of gifts present in vocation. We've called this ministry "Celebrating Faces in the Community," offering thanks for a particular line of work in worship the last Sunday of each month. January offered thanks for health care workers, February offered thanks for people in education. Our March service is in recognition of "First Responders," emergency personnel, law enforcement, firefighters, EMT's and others like them. The group serving in this ministry considered changing the date because of Palm/Passion Sunday and working around the sermon series related to challenging texts of the Old Testament. I had an idea about how these strands of worship, proclamation and service could be woven together, but I lacked confidence.
After the recent violent events near my home in Federal Way, reading the Passion stories, and studying the Old Testament book of Judges, I realized I didn't need to weave as much of the aforementioned themes as I thought.
"First Responders" as we know them are not mentioned in the Bible, but First Responders are established to provide the grace of God in the midst of violent and chaotic situations. What is the source of violence in the book of Judges? Jephtha's lack of trust in the presence of God with him, the sacrifice/child abuse/murder of his daughter, and the ensuing civil war in the land of Israel. What happens in the midst of this civil war? Judges 17:6 and 21:25 provide bookends for the actions of the people when they do not trust God: "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
In between these bookends in Judges we see some of the most despicable and egregious acts of violence in all of scripture. One can read of rape, complete and violent disregard for the human body, and murder. This takes us back to the question "why is there so much violence in the Bible? Why would we even bother reading these Bible passages?" This takes us back to a key discussion point early in the sermon series from Professor Jacobson. A key interpretive question about Bible passages is "is this passage prescriptive or descriptive?" Is this passage telling us what to do, or is this passage describing a situation? If we look at this passage as prescriptive--telling us what to do, then we legitimize violence in the name of God for our own purposes. This is the exact point of the passage. The reason we have violence in Judges in the first place is that "all the people did what was right in their own eyes." The people of Bible times are not any more violent than we are--Judges is telling a story about ourselves and the consequences of when we do what is right in our own eyes.
"...all the people did what was right in their own eyes" is the human drama of Holy Week.
+ Jesus is brought up on charges because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
+ Jesus is mocked by leaders of all stripes in because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
+ Jesus is abandoned by his followers because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
+ Jesus is executed because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
First Responders are not our source of our salvation, but they do provide the grace of God in the midst of a world where "all the people did what was right in their own eyes." This is not to say that First Responders are perfect, but they are the grace and compassion in some of the worst possible situations. For a people and society that does what is right in their own eyes, the grace of God is our only hope for transformation. The grace of God is made perfect and real in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus who conquers death in the hoards of people who "do what is right in their own eyes." Thanks to all the First Responders in our midst who provide the grace of God in unspeakable violence and chaos, thanks be to God in Jesus Christ, who withstood our violent, chaotic behavior so that we may know that there is nothing that will separate us from the love of God.
Several months ago, an expanding group of ministers/volunteers at First Lutheran Community Church formed an outreach that would meet people in their vocation with the grace of God. We spend so much of our lives in our work, that God's presence should be proclaimed in the midst of that work. I wanted to proclaim God's presence and offer encouragement of gifts present in vocation. We've called this ministry "Celebrating Faces in the Community," offering thanks for a particular line of work in worship the last Sunday of each month. January offered thanks for health care workers, February offered thanks for people in education. Our March service is in recognition of "First Responders," emergency personnel, law enforcement, firefighters, EMT's and others like them. The group serving in this ministry considered changing the date because of Palm/Passion Sunday and working around the sermon series related to challenging texts of the Old Testament. I had an idea about how these strands of worship, proclamation and service could be woven together, but I lacked confidence.
After the recent violent events near my home in Federal Way, reading the Passion stories, and studying the Old Testament book of Judges, I realized I didn't need to weave as much of the aforementioned themes as I thought.
"First Responders" as we know them are not mentioned in the Bible, but First Responders are established to provide the grace of God in the midst of violent and chaotic situations. What is the source of violence in the book of Judges? Jephtha's lack of trust in the presence of God with him, the sacrifice/child abuse/murder of his daughter, and the ensuing civil war in the land of Israel. What happens in the midst of this civil war? Judges 17:6 and 21:25 provide bookends for the actions of the people when they do not trust God: "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
In between these bookends in Judges we see some of the most despicable and egregious acts of violence in all of scripture. One can read of rape, complete and violent disregard for the human body, and murder. This takes us back to the question "why is there so much violence in the Bible? Why would we even bother reading these Bible passages?" This takes us back to a key discussion point early in the sermon series from Professor Jacobson. A key interpretive question about Bible passages is "is this passage prescriptive or descriptive?" Is this passage telling us what to do, or is this passage describing a situation? If we look at this passage as prescriptive--telling us what to do, then we legitimize violence in the name of God for our own purposes. This is the exact point of the passage. The reason we have violence in Judges in the first place is that "all the people did what was right in their own eyes." The people of Bible times are not any more violent than we are--Judges is telling a story about ourselves and the consequences of when we do what is right in our own eyes.
"...all the people did what was right in their own eyes" is the human drama of Holy Week.
+ Jesus is brought up on charges because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
+ Jesus is mocked by leaders of all stripes in because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
+ Jesus is abandoned by his followers because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
+ Jesus is executed because "all the people did what was right in their own eyes."
First Responders are not our source of our salvation, but they do provide the grace of God in the midst of a world where "all the people did what was right in their own eyes." This is not to say that First Responders are perfect, but they are the grace and compassion in some of the worst possible situations. For a people and society that does what is right in their own eyes, the grace of God is our only hope for transformation. The grace of God is made perfect and real in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus who conquers death in the hoards of people who "do what is right in their own eyes." Thanks to all the First Responders in our midst who provide the grace of God in unspeakable violence and chaos, thanks be to God in Jesus Christ, who withstood our violent, chaotic behavior so that we may know that there is nothing that will separate us from the love of God.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Preaching from the book of Judges (part 1)
In January 2010, Professor Diane Jacobson from Luther Seminary challenged a group of ELCA pastors in Southwestern Washington to engage "tough" texts of the Old Testament. I took the challenge seriously.
Most of my favorite professors (Throntveit, Fretheim, Jacobson) from seminary and my favorite theologians (Von Rad, Brueggemann) happen to be Old Testament scholars. I enjoyed the interpretive debate in Hebrew more than Greek during school and in my own personal reading. However, I have been so tied to the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) over 11 years of ministry, that I missed out on some of the wealth of scripture, even though I preach an equal amount of Old and New Testament sermons.
Jacobson primarily addressed texts of violence in her talk, something the RCL mostly ignores. Out of respect to the insights of my teacher and the revelation of God in scripture, I thought I needed to join the congregation in engaging some challenging texts in Lent. This challenging engagement can take on many levels: an academic exercise for pastors, a Bible study for hearty students in the congregation, or using these texts as part of a sermon series. The sermon series produced more reflection upon the relationship between the Bible and a congregation than any group of sermons I ever preached.
Topics we have covered during the series include:
1. Job
2. The sacrifice of Isaac
3. Jephtha's sacrifice of his daughter in Judges
Though I do not believe in the dogma biblical inerrancy, I still have a relatively high view of the Bible. Though I believe the Bible needs to be considered in context, that doesn't excuse Christians from engaging biblical texts just because certain concepts or ideas seem antiquated. The Old Testament book of Judges provides a great opportunity for Christians to address an important critique about the Bible--the graphic depiction of violence. Tracy Fitzgerald gave a great introduction to the book of Judges for our consideration in his sermon at First Lutheran Community Church on March 14th (to be posted on my blog at a later date). He and I share conversation about concepts in Judges regarding J. Clinton McCann's Judges commentary and our other readings. McCann makes an argument that Judges is relevant for the community of faith because it addresses contemporary themes:
1. Disputes over land and territory
2. Uncertainty over the roles of men and women
3. Child abuse
4. Spouse abuse
5. Senseless and excessive violence
6. Moral confusion
7. Power-hungry political leaders
8. Male political leaders who chase women
9. Social chaos
McCann argues that Christians are quick to make sociological, economic or psychological examinations regarding the aforementioned social conditions. Judges presents a case to consider these themes theologically. Theological thought related to the texts in Judges presents a challenge because many of the texts produce emotional and visceral reactions. Violent revenge, child abuse and rape all occur in Judges, and each person sitting in the congregation knows something related to these tragedies in life. Revisiting these thoughts or experiences produces pain, anger and despair. Though people come to worship for hope, healing and peace--these texts fail to provide a quick path to wholeness. Preachers and congregations tread lightly or outright avoid these texts. I tread lightly as well. I choose not to address the graphic depiction of rape and murder in the last chapters of Judges, but it is important to name their occurrence, because silence about these topics blocks the path to healing.
These topics addressed in Judges hit home for me this week as I examined the stories surrounding the murder at Calvary Lutheran Church in Federal Way, Washington last week (Susan Hogan compiled a list of links for this story). Calvary is the congregation my family and I attended while I awaited an opportunity for interim ministry. This story leaves me shaken, yet juxtaposed with reading Judges I move away from pure indignation or despair, and think about the world of violence in which we live theologically.
Violence in the Bible challenges ideals of what God's word is supposed to reveal. I think people ultimately want to experience assurances of God's love when reading or hearing the Bible. I think people hope that the Bible will take us to a better place, but sometimes the stories reveal something about sins and baser instincts and actions. Violence was not worse in Biblical times compared to now. The acts of violence differ today from Biblical times, but the violence remains today, magnified by a hypermedia culture that perpetuates a violent life experience. The stories of Judges provide a path for victims of violence to tell their own stories about violence--so they do not have to suffer in silence. Personal stories of violent suffering are often buried, and the stories in Judges do not go around the consequences of violence--the consequences are named. The stories in Judges also reveal an insidious human complicity in violence; temptation abounds for a reader of Judges to separate oneself or community from complicity to violence. A deeper reading beyond the emotional and visceral offers the judgment of God: we are a violent people, and there are consequences for our violence. Palm/Passion Sunday and Holy Week highlight human complicity in violence on many levels and the depths to which God must go to meet us in our violent lives.
Though Judges may not provide a clear path to redemption in the face of violence, God is at work in the midst of the violence that humans inflict on one another, and God will not be silent.
Please pray for the families affected by the murder at Calvary Lutheran Church in Federal Way, Washington and the congregation.
Most of my favorite professors (Throntveit, Fretheim, Jacobson) from seminary and my favorite theologians (Von Rad, Brueggemann) happen to be Old Testament scholars. I enjoyed the interpretive debate in Hebrew more than Greek during school and in my own personal reading. However, I have been so tied to the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) over 11 years of ministry, that I missed out on some of the wealth of scripture, even though I preach an equal amount of Old and New Testament sermons.
Jacobson primarily addressed texts of violence in her talk, something the RCL mostly ignores. Out of respect to the insights of my teacher and the revelation of God in scripture, I thought I needed to join the congregation in engaging some challenging texts in Lent. This challenging engagement can take on many levels: an academic exercise for pastors, a Bible study for hearty students in the congregation, or using these texts as part of a sermon series. The sermon series produced more reflection upon the relationship between the Bible and a congregation than any group of sermons I ever preached.
Topics we have covered during the series include:
1. Job
2. The sacrifice of Isaac
3. Jephtha's sacrifice of his daughter in Judges
Though I do not believe in the dogma biblical inerrancy, I still have a relatively high view of the Bible. Though I believe the Bible needs to be considered in context, that doesn't excuse Christians from engaging biblical texts just because certain concepts or ideas seem antiquated. The Old Testament book of Judges provides a great opportunity for Christians to address an important critique about the Bible--the graphic depiction of violence. Tracy Fitzgerald gave a great introduction to the book of Judges for our consideration in his sermon at First Lutheran Community Church on March 14th (to be posted on my blog at a later date). He and I share conversation about concepts in Judges regarding J. Clinton McCann's Judges commentary and our other readings. McCann makes an argument that Judges is relevant for the community of faith because it addresses contemporary themes:
1. Disputes over land and territory
2. Uncertainty over the roles of men and women
3. Child abuse
4. Spouse abuse
5. Senseless and excessive violence
6. Moral confusion
7. Power-hungry political leaders
8. Male political leaders who chase women
9. Social chaos
McCann argues that Christians are quick to make sociological, economic or psychological examinations regarding the aforementioned social conditions. Judges presents a case to consider these themes theologically. Theological thought related to the texts in Judges presents a challenge because many of the texts produce emotional and visceral reactions. Violent revenge, child abuse and rape all occur in Judges, and each person sitting in the congregation knows something related to these tragedies in life. Revisiting these thoughts or experiences produces pain, anger and despair. Though people come to worship for hope, healing and peace--these texts fail to provide a quick path to wholeness. Preachers and congregations tread lightly or outright avoid these texts. I tread lightly as well. I choose not to address the graphic depiction of rape and murder in the last chapters of Judges, but it is important to name their occurrence, because silence about these topics blocks the path to healing.
These topics addressed in Judges hit home for me this week as I examined the stories surrounding the murder at Calvary Lutheran Church in Federal Way, Washington last week (Susan Hogan compiled a list of links for this story). Calvary is the congregation my family and I attended while I awaited an opportunity for interim ministry. This story leaves me shaken, yet juxtaposed with reading Judges I move away from pure indignation or despair, and think about the world of violence in which we live theologically.
Violence in the Bible challenges ideals of what God's word is supposed to reveal. I think people ultimately want to experience assurances of God's love when reading or hearing the Bible. I think people hope that the Bible will take us to a better place, but sometimes the stories reveal something about sins and baser instincts and actions. Violence was not worse in Biblical times compared to now. The acts of violence differ today from Biblical times, but the violence remains today, magnified by a hypermedia culture that perpetuates a violent life experience. The stories of Judges provide a path for victims of violence to tell their own stories about violence--so they do not have to suffer in silence. Personal stories of violent suffering are often buried, and the stories in Judges do not go around the consequences of violence--the consequences are named. The stories in Judges also reveal an insidious human complicity in violence; temptation abounds for a reader of Judges to separate oneself or community from complicity to violence. A deeper reading beyond the emotional and visceral offers the judgment of God: we are a violent people, and there are consequences for our violence. Palm/Passion Sunday and Holy Week highlight human complicity in violence on many levels and the depths to which God must go to meet us in our violent lives.
Though Judges may not provide a clear path to redemption in the face of violence, God is at work in the midst of the violence that humans inflict on one another, and God will not be silent.
Please pray for the families affected by the murder at Calvary Lutheran Church in Federal Way, Washington and the congregation.
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.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
40 day Journey with Martin Luther (Augsburg Books) Day 11: Sexuality and Honor
"...you are to defend, protect and rescue your neighbors whenever they are in danger or need, and moreover, even aid and assist them so that they may retain their honor...In short all are required both to live chastely themselves and also to help their neighbors do the same." --Martin Luther
Wow. How do I work with Luther and sexuality in a reasonable blog post? Any commandment could be a dissertation-length endeavor, but the Sixth Commandment regarding adultery and Luther's writing addressing sexuality takes on monumental proportions. The history of sexuality and the Church is a mixed bag. Encouraging the view of sexuality as a gift rather than something dirty or demonic is relatively new in Christian thought, though the argument for this outlook in Christian teaching is strong though not pervasive in history. Original Sin has been believed to be transmitted through sex and procreation. Sexuality has been abused through power, deception, manipulation and coercion. The list of abuses linked to sexuality is long. Therefore a definition that Luther advocates for purity and chastity didn't seem particularly helpful in his time (though I didn't live then, so what do I know) and they don't feel particularly helpful now. The teaching of Christians around sexuality has been so intertwined with shame and a misguided understanding of sin that I don't know what to do with some of Luther's writing on this subject.
However, I do appreciate the move Luther makes from addressing adultery with purity and chastity, and toward how we relate to our neighbor by retaining honor. There is honor and esteem in sexuality as a gift from God to be used cautiously and wisely, and that we work with our neighbors so that others do not have their sexuality abused through power, coercion or manipulation. This is a tall order--but the idea of honor is not as shame-based in understanding sexuality as purity or chastity, and gives us a basis for at least working toward giving women and men, boys and girls a sense of responsibility, respect, grace and healing related to sexuality. Chastity and purity are overly connected to shame, and though those words are not necessarily bad in and of themselves--the history with these words is too dark for them to be helpful anymore in understanding God's gift of sexuality.
Luther's writing about honor and implicit sexuality on the Sixth Commandment have powerful implications for how the Church relates to the community regarding sexual violence and the sex trade, and also how it prepares couples for marriage and builds up family relationships. This is indeed a tall order. God, have mercy.
Wow. How do I work with Luther and sexuality in a reasonable blog post? Any commandment could be a dissertation-length endeavor, but the Sixth Commandment regarding adultery and Luther's writing addressing sexuality takes on monumental proportions. The history of sexuality and the Church is a mixed bag. Encouraging the view of sexuality as a gift rather than something dirty or demonic is relatively new in Christian thought, though the argument for this outlook in Christian teaching is strong though not pervasive in history. Original Sin has been believed to be transmitted through sex and procreation. Sexuality has been abused through power, deception, manipulation and coercion. The list of abuses linked to sexuality is long. Therefore a definition that Luther advocates for purity and chastity didn't seem particularly helpful in his time (though I didn't live then, so what do I know) and they don't feel particularly helpful now. The teaching of Christians around sexuality has been so intertwined with shame and a misguided understanding of sin that I don't know what to do with some of Luther's writing on this subject.
However, I do appreciate the move Luther makes from addressing adultery with purity and chastity, and toward how we relate to our neighbor by retaining honor. There is honor and esteem in sexuality as a gift from God to be used cautiously and wisely, and that we work with our neighbors so that others do not have their sexuality abused through power, coercion or manipulation. This is a tall order--but the idea of honor is not as shame-based in understanding sexuality as purity or chastity, and gives us a basis for at least working toward giving women and men, boys and girls a sense of responsibility, respect, grace and healing related to sexuality. Chastity and purity are overly connected to shame, and though those words are not necessarily bad in and of themselves--the history with these words is too dark for them to be helpful anymore in understanding God's gift of sexuality.
Luther's writing about honor and implicit sexuality on the Sixth Commandment have powerful implications for how the Church relates to the community regarding sexual violence and the sex trade, and also how it prepares couples for marriage and builds up family relationships. This is indeed a tall order. God, have mercy.
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.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
40 day journey with Martin Luther: Day 5 "True" Prayer
"God...wants you to lament and express your needs and concerns...in order that you may kindle your heart to stronger and greater desires and open and spread your apron wide to receive many things." --Martin Luther
I am culturally conditioned regarding the word "true." Often it is used to set someone over and above someone else, such as someone is a "true fan" if they do such and such a thing. Or a "true Christian" is someone who ascribes to particular doctrine or dogma. Luther appears to depict true prayer as someone who prays in earnest and with discipline. Earnest seems helpful on this occasion because method is left open and therefore examining self before prayer for intent becomes important.
Journal reflection:
"When do you feel closest to God?"
I feel closest to God in movement. It can be running, walking, driving. More of my senses are engaged--the beauty of surroundings, the sound of my breath and possibly music, the sound of animal life, human life and wind. Sometimes I smell something baking, the evergreens or the damp air. In a moving car I feel peace as the rubber rolls along the pavement. The car movement is calming and engages my brain in a powerful way. In these movements my brain engages in keeping balance, but after awhile my prayer directs me toward the important things of the day. Giving thanks helps me keep focused on the important things.
"Describe a time when your "whole heart" was at prayer. What feelings were evoked in you?"
My prayers for "whole heart" prayer don't seem all that focused. It usually comes in a time of distress. When things aren't right with my wife or daughters--illness or danger. My attention toward them and to God are in deep earnestness. If I'm thinking and praying about them, does that make it a whole heart prayer? Is prayer about focus, or earnestness? I don't know. But there is a feeling of total dependence. Maybe that is whole heart prayer.
I am culturally conditioned regarding the word "true." Often it is used to set someone over and above someone else, such as someone is a "true fan" if they do such and such a thing. Or a "true Christian" is someone who ascribes to particular doctrine or dogma. Luther appears to depict true prayer as someone who prays in earnest and with discipline. Earnest seems helpful on this occasion because method is left open and therefore examining self before prayer for intent becomes important.
Journal reflection:
"When do you feel closest to God?"
I feel closest to God in movement. It can be running, walking, driving. More of my senses are engaged--the beauty of surroundings, the sound of my breath and possibly music, the sound of animal life, human life and wind. Sometimes I smell something baking, the evergreens or the damp air. In a moving car I feel peace as the rubber rolls along the pavement. The car movement is calming and engages my brain in a powerful way. In these movements my brain engages in keeping balance, but after awhile my prayer directs me toward the important things of the day. Giving thanks helps me keep focused on the important things.
"Describe a time when your "whole heart" was at prayer. What feelings were evoked in you?"
My prayers for "whole heart" prayer don't seem all that focused. It usually comes in a time of distress. When things aren't right with my wife or daughters--illness or danger. My attention toward them and to God are in deep earnestness. If I'm thinking and praying about them, does that make it a whole heart prayer? Is prayer about focus, or earnestness? I don't know. But there is a feeling of total dependence. Maybe that is whole heart prayer.
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