The field of continuing education for pastors and congregations presents both minefields and opportunities for reaching a goal.
What are the minefields:
1. Cost. My congregation was faced with an opportunity for an educational event for both me and 2-4 leaders from the congregation. I won't go into all of variables for attending, only that attending is about as close to being a "need" without actually being a need. The event is semi-annual, with the next event gathering in Houston, Texas. Round-trip airfare, tuition, hotel and other expenses, we were probably looking at $2-4K to make that trip. I pondered the opportunity cost for that trip for several weeks. I go to the training because it's part of my job, and the training does have value. For others, I'm asking individuals in my congregation to invest at least 4 days away from work and family.
2. Efficacy. I have heard some great theologians, teachers, leaders and preachers over the years at educational events. Some presentations were a waste of time. Sometimes this was the speaker's fault (delivery, under prepared), sometimes it was mine (I can have a bad attitude), sometimes it was the planner(s) of the event. Sometimes the responsibility is shared. Some speakers had a profound effect on me during that particular moment--it was something I needed to hear. I didn't necessarily require that person's words would profoundly change my life every day for the next 10 years, only that their insight was part of my overall sustenance and encouragement. It's like a feast. Feasts everyday can lose their meaning over time. Occasionally shared, feasts are the spice of life. I think about this when I reflect on events where I've heard Will Willimon, Sandra Day O'Connor, Martin Marty, and Maya Angelou. These kind of speakers draw people to come to conferences. These are wise people, and their words can be helpful and insightful. However, in my experience, these kinds of events don't necessarily elicit much change in my work. From some learning events I have returned home with some books, a binder full of materials, or have my email inbox filled with Power Points and documents. Rarely do I look at these documents ever again. That may be just as much about my habits as it is about educational philosophy, but I also know that I am not alone in owning a bookshelf loaded with books, boxes and binders holding the dusty hope of personal and organizational renewal.
After attending Unconference11 in May, the minefields of education became clearer to me about how I would invest learning time and resources in the future. Rock star quality speakers are not required (but hey, if they want to come and participate like everyone else, great!).
Where are the opportunities?
Connecting communication technologies (social media, blogs, web) provide key components to any learning and change opportunity. Learning is just as much about relationships as it is information. This is not an educational newsflash--many educational approaches gain leverage through relationships. However, I have observed that in church circles, there's still a lot of weight placed in bringing a big name speaker and implicitly inflicting death by Power Point for an educational event. The problem is, if I want the material I gain to truly take root, there needs to be relationship networks ready and available to take my enthusiasm as a convert and weave it in to the fabric of my life. #Unco11 #Unco12 #chsocm (specific Twitter linked communities) have provided access and friendships with other learners so that I gain support, insight, challenge, and an opportunity to share as well.
As I look at the minefields and opportunities for goal reaching in continuing education for pastors and congregations, I fear testing my own theories. I want to host an educational event. I believe that communication strategies for pastors and congregations are important in their work of sharing the Good News of Jesus. I don't need to host a big top event. It's time to trust the relationships I have built and that God will be present in not only where two or three are gathered, but will gather again as the relationships continue.
Showing posts with label social media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social media. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
A belated, yet incarnational review of Carol Howard Merritt's "Reframing Hope"
I received a copy of Carol Howard Merritt's book, Reframing Hope, several months ago, soon after it was published. I made a promise I would review the book and share my insights on her work.
I couldn't bring myself to read it. I read the book in fits and starts, never getting beyond the first 20 pages. I like to keep my promises, so the book sat on my desk, mocking me. I met Carol at Unconference11 (#unco11) in May and talked with her a few times. She is gracious and encouraging both in social media circles and in person, and has many great things to share with the church. So I felt worse about not publicly contributing to the conversation about her book.
After a bi-coastal trip for congregational redevelopment last month and racking my brain in considering what I learned, I ripped through the book. I don't do this very often. I tend to take my time with books, pondering stories, philosophies and theologies. After hearing the stories from my colleagues about congregational decline at my training and also the stories of God at work delivering a sense of urgency in struggling communities, a title containing "hope" gained new cache in my vocation.
Why today? Why now?
For ten years until about 8 weeks ago, I served the church as an interim pastor. I brought great passion to my work, giving witness to God amid the vortex of congregational dynamics associated with a congregation in a pastoral leadership gap. I always considered myself a bearer of hope in the interim ministries I served.
What I realized as I read Reframing Hope was that there was a gap in the hope for Christian faith communities I could deliver as an interim pastor. My reasoning is that as an interim pastor, I always had an escape hatch. My time with a congregation averaged about 15 months, or at a retreat in a consultation. I was exhausted (usually in a good way) from the work, but I knew that after the limited time with the congregation, I could leave. I was the pastoral equivalent to how many grandparents function (though this is evolving). They get the grandkids for an afternoon, an overnight, or a weekend or longer, but often there is an end in sight. Grandparents have hope for their grandchildren. But I hear from many grandparents with a wry smile after a long exhale: "they go home." As an interim pastor, I always got to go home. It doesn't mean grandparents or interim pastors aren't passionate about their congregations, but the distance is different.
Now I find myself in a congregation that has significantly struggled in recent years. My wife and I bring our daughters to St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, and ponder what God might be up to. We're looking for a home in the area. We're thinking about the schools for our daughters. Our relationships in the community take on greater weight. The stories of faith in the congregation take on a new sense of the Spirit for me. In the stories of past and current hurts of the people at St. John's, the Incarnation of God in Christ is palpable.
Reframing Hope is an incarnational book. It is about the presence of God witnessed in the life of congregations. This is not an academic exercise book. However, Reframing Hope calls on some good academic resources to give witness to the movement of God from numerous facets of congregational life as well as Howard Merritt's personal faith and ministry stories. It also gives a historical survey of the church in the American context and perspectives on emerging approaches to faith and congregational formation, from ancient practices to social media, recognizing the imperative of contributions of all God's people to sharing the grace of God in Christ with the world. Reading Reframing Hope probably wouldn't have made as much a difference to me as an interim pastor. It's a solid contribution for any ministry consideration. However, there is a fine line between personal investment and incarnational investment in ministry. I'm learning that, and Reframing Hope is a good reference point for my ongoing discernment.
I believe hope in Carol Howard Merritt's Reframing Hope is about incarnation--God's presence using the multitude of opportunities available to congregations ranging from classical liturgies to social media and beyond. I find this hopeful as I work to partner with the people of St. John's in redeveloping a community of faith. During my recent training in Newark, there were times I was downright fearful. Soon there will be a time I won't be traveling 30 minutes to get home after time at the church. Reframing Hope will continue to be a good conversation facilitator as St. John's movies into God's preferred future.
If you love a congregation (or many) and struggle to find how that congregation recognizes God at work in a changing world, I commend to you Reframing Hope to your ongoing discussion.
I couldn't bring myself to read it. I read the book in fits and starts, never getting beyond the first 20 pages. I like to keep my promises, so the book sat on my desk, mocking me. I met Carol at Unconference11 (#unco11) in May and talked with her a few times. She is gracious and encouraging both in social media circles and in person, and has many great things to share with the church. So I felt worse about not publicly contributing to the conversation about her book.
After a bi-coastal trip for congregational redevelopment last month and racking my brain in considering what I learned, I ripped through the book. I don't do this very often. I tend to take my time with books, pondering stories, philosophies and theologies. After hearing the stories from my colleagues about congregational decline at my training and also the stories of God at work delivering a sense of urgency in struggling communities, a title containing "hope" gained new cache in my vocation.
Why today? Why now?
For ten years until about 8 weeks ago, I served the church as an interim pastor. I brought great passion to my work, giving witness to God amid the vortex of congregational dynamics associated with a congregation in a pastoral leadership gap. I always considered myself a bearer of hope in the interim ministries I served.
What I realized as I read Reframing Hope was that there was a gap in the hope for Christian faith communities I could deliver as an interim pastor. My reasoning is that as an interim pastor, I always had an escape hatch. My time with a congregation averaged about 15 months, or at a retreat in a consultation. I was exhausted (usually in a good way) from the work, but I knew that after the limited time with the congregation, I could leave. I was the pastoral equivalent to how many grandparents function (though this is evolving). They get the grandkids for an afternoon, an overnight, or a weekend or longer, but often there is an end in sight. Grandparents have hope for their grandchildren. But I hear from many grandparents with a wry smile after a long exhale: "they go home." As an interim pastor, I always got to go home. It doesn't mean grandparents or interim pastors aren't passionate about their congregations, but the distance is different.
Now I find myself in a congregation that has significantly struggled in recent years. My wife and I bring our daughters to St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, and ponder what God might be up to. We're looking for a home in the area. We're thinking about the schools for our daughters. Our relationships in the community take on greater weight. The stories of faith in the congregation take on a new sense of the Spirit for me. In the stories of past and current hurts of the people at St. John's, the Incarnation of God in Christ is palpable.
Reframing Hope is an incarnational book. It is about the presence of God witnessed in the life of congregations. This is not an academic exercise book. However, Reframing Hope calls on some good academic resources to give witness to the movement of God from numerous facets of congregational life as well as Howard Merritt's personal faith and ministry stories. It also gives a historical survey of the church in the American context and perspectives on emerging approaches to faith and congregational formation, from ancient practices to social media, recognizing the imperative of contributions of all God's people to sharing the grace of God in Christ with the world. Reading Reframing Hope probably wouldn't have made as much a difference to me as an interim pastor. It's a solid contribution for any ministry consideration. However, there is a fine line between personal investment and incarnational investment in ministry. I'm learning that, and Reframing Hope is a good reference point for my ongoing discernment.
I believe hope in Carol Howard Merritt's Reframing Hope is about incarnation--God's presence using the multitude of opportunities available to congregations ranging from classical liturgies to social media and beyond. I find this hopeful as I work to partner with the people of St. John's in redeveloping a community of faith. During my recent training in Newark, there were times I was downright fearful. Soon there will be a time I won't be traveling 30 minutes to get home after time at the church. Reframing Hope will continue to be a good conversation facilitator as St. John's movies into God's preferred future.
If you love a congregation (or many) and struggle to find how that congregation recognizes God at work in a changing world, I commend to you Reframing Hope to your ongoing discussion.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Creating: A Good Way To Start
Genesis poses several challenges to Bible readers.
For some, Genesis represents a lens the natural world: a 6,000 year-old Earth where the words in Genesis trump any scientific discovery. For others, the idea of a talking snake conversing with the first humans delegitimizes any claim the Bible makes. Placing these perspectives on a continuum, I imagine that many Bible readers fall somewhere in between the two aforementioned poles.
I'm reflecting on the creation stories in Genesis today because I'm beginning a ministry that is new to me. God has been here in Lakewood and at St. John's Lutheran Church long before I got here. But In Genesis, God engages humanity to join in the creative action of God. Creation is an ongoing activity, initiated and supported by God--I'm glad I get to take part.
The challenge of the day in light of Genesis is actually creating. Creating was a first person activity for our parents and their parents. It was not only part of survival, but essentially cultural: our ancestors cooked from scratch more often, created their own tools and crafts, fixed their own household items. This is not meant to glamorize the past, rather give us perspective on where we are.
In an information age, passive intake is a default operation for many cultures. I don't wish to return to glamorized days of yore, but I do want to recognize that creation takes intentional action. Any of us can execute our survival primarily on consumption. From Internet, to social media, to ordering a pizza on a smart phone, to streaming movies on a tablet, we can navigate our days without much intentional thought. I am thankful for all of these tools, but creation can easily be lost from day to day living.
Maybe the view of "be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 1:28)" can be expanded from bringing children into the world to creating in a sense that makes life better for living.
Seth Godin's book Linchpin has challenged me to reconsider my participation in creation. What am I sharing with the world? What steps am I taking to give life in the world? In encouraging moments, Godin encourages me with all the gifts and talents I have, at other times reminds me how often I waste time spinning my wheels on social media and Web surfing.
Today provided me one of many choices; writing provided me a good path to start a ministry that is new to me. Creation is a good foundation for any day of life.
For some, Genesis represents a lens the natural world: a 6,000 year-old Earth where the words in Genesis trump any scientific discovery. For others, the idea of a talking snake conversing with the first humans delegitimizes any claim the Bible makes. Placing these perspectives on a continuum, I imagine that many Bible readers fall somewhere in between the two aforementioned poles.
I'm reflecting on the creation stories in Genesis today because I'm beginning a ministry that is new to me. God has been here in Lakewood and at St. John's Lutheran Church long before I got here. But In Genesis, God engages humanity to join in the creative action of God. Creation is an ongoing activity, initiated and supported by God--I'm glad I get to take part.
The challenge of the day in light of Genesis is actually creating. Creating was a first person activity for our parents and their parents. It was not only part of survival, but essentially cultural: our ancestors cooked from scratch more often, created their own tools and crafts, fixed their own household items. This is not meant to glamorize the past, rather give us perspective on where we are.
In an information age, passive intake is a default operation for many cultures. I don't wish to return to glamorized days of yore, but I do want to recognize that creation takes intentional action. Any of us can execute our survival primarily on consumption. From Internet, to social media, to ordering a pizza on a smart phone, to streaming movies on a tablet, we can navigate our days without much intentional thought. I am thankful for all of these tools, but creation can easily be lost from day to day living.
Maybe the view of "be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 1:28)" can be expanded from bringing children into the world to creating in a sense that makes life better for living.
Seth Godin's book Linchpin has challenged me to reconsider my participation in creation. What am I sharing with the world? What steps am I taking to give life in the world? In encouraging moments, Godin encourages me with all the gifts and talents I have, at other times reminds me how often I waste time spinning my wheels on social media and Web surfing.
Today provided me one of many choices; writing provided me a good path to start a ministry that is new to me. Creation is a good foundation for any day of life.
Location:82nd St SW,Lakewood,United States
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
After the Vigil: Imagining Ministry Location
One of the last places I ever thought I would "do" ministry was at Wal-Mart. Over the years I've heard other ministry stretches. Laundromats, baseball games, red light districts, and state fairs (to name a few) are places colleagues have gone in the name of outreach, and ministry "beyond the building."
I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.
When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.
I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.
Why do a vigil?
The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...
That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."
Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.
I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.
When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.
I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.
Why do a vigil?
The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...
That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."
Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Using the tools of the communication trade
My father was never much of a fix-it guy. We didn't have many tools lying around the house. Not much tinkering with cars or small engines or household appliances in my boyhood home. No spare bolts, wires or springs. I've used enough hand and power tools in shop class and through experimentation to get by. I don't necessarily enjoy using tools, but I appreciate the ability to use them.
My stocked tool box relates to congregational ministry, and I love to find tools to help me navigate, learn, and connect relationally. I've been picking up as many tools as I am able since 1998. Some tools I use more than others. My favorite tools recently relate to social media--blogging, Twitter and Facebook. I'm encouraged about what is possible through these tools. What is different about these tools is the open access--so many of the other tools I've used over the years require significant amounts of hours and resources of training and other start-up costs. Then the materials sit on a shelf, to be used rarely again, if ever at all.
I've been frustrated to see that the use of social media to connect is in limited use--at least in comparison with some of our Full Communion partners in the ELCA. I especially find PCUSA folk all over social media: Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow, while serving as Moderator of the 218th General Assembly, offered important leadership concerning the use of technology for the church. I am in full agreement with him about blogging as a spiritual practice, appreciate his presence on Twitter, and his thought-provoking work with Carol Howard Merritt on their podcast God Complex Radio. I'm looking forward to gathering with many of these folks who take seriously their communication methodology of many different backgrounds (and hoping for a few more ELCA people) at Unconference 2011 in May.
My contention is not that the church will be "saved" by technology (I'll stick with Jesus), but these tools are as important to connecting people with God and one another as much as the telephone, sound amplification, and the printing press. Communication tools provide access and make the priesthood of all believers a more tangible reality than mere words. Social media encompasses several useful communication tools. Social media also happens to be where the Digital Natives communicate and congregate. Jesus went where the people were; he made few references to going to the house of worship. So I'm going to go where the people are.
I'm not making any revolutionary statements here, but it's what I've been thinking about, sometimes keeping me up at night. I'm reaching out to my colleagues and sisters and brothers in Christ (especially in the Pacific Northwest and the West Coast) in 20th Century-Brand Protestant churches (formerly known as Mainline Protestants) to gather our congregations out here to help teach the tools of communication. A conference, a webinar, a podcast, a traveling road show, a workshop--I don't care. I want to partner with some of my colleagues in the Pacific Northwest and serve others and use the tools available to all of us. I look forward to your ideas and feedback.
Not only are these tools for communication building the new front door to being church, but in many ways, they already are church.
My stocked tool box relates to congregational ministry, and I love to find tools to help me navigate, learn, and connect relationally. I've been picking up as many tools as I am able since 1998. Some tools I use more than others. My favorite tools recently relate to social media--blogging, Twitter and Facebook. I'm encouraged about what is possible through these tools. What is different about these tools is the open access--so many of the other tools I've used over the years require significant amounts of hours and resources of training and other start-up costs. Then the materials sit on a shelf, to be used rarely again, if ever at all.
I've been frustrated to see that the use of social media to connect is in limited use--at least in comparison with some of our Full Communion partners in the ELCA. I especially find PCUSA folk all over social media: Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow, while serving as Moderator of the 218th General Assembly, offered important leadership concerning the use of technology for the church. I am in full agreement with him about blogging as a spiritual practice, appreciate his presence on Twitter, and his thought-provoking work with Carol Howard Merritt on their podcast God Complex Radio. I'm looking forward to gathering with many of these folks who take seriously their communication methodology of many different backgrounds (and hoping for a few more ELCA people) at Unconference 2011 in May.
My contention is not that the church will be "saved" by technology (I'll stick with Jesus), but these tools are as important to connecting people with God and one another as much as the telephone, sound amplification, and the printing press. Communication tools provide access and make the priesthood of all believers a more tangible reality than mere words. Social media encompasses several useful communication tools. Social media also happens to be where the Digital Natives communicate and congregate. Jesus went where the people were; he made few references to going to the house of worship. So I'm going to go where the people are.
I'm not making any revolutionary statements here, but it's what I've been thinking about, sometimes keeping me up at night. I'm reaching out to my colleagues and sisters and brothers in Christ (especially in the Pacific Northwest and the West Coast) in 20th Century-Brand Protestant churches (formerly known as Mainline Protestants) to gather our congregations out here to help teach the tools of communication. A conference, a webinar, a podcast, a traveling road show, a workshop--I don't care. I want to partner with some of my colleagues in the Pacific Northwest and serve others and use the tools available to all of us. I look forward to your ideas and feedback.
Not only are these tools for communication building the new front door to being church, but in many ways, they already are church.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Why I joined Facebook (finally)
I was never going to join Facebook because my friends said I should. I find it challenging enough to strengthen my primary relationships. I don't need Facebook telling me every time I log on about connections I need to be making. This introvert is overwhelmed by those thoughts.
I think an introvert, non-Digital Native makes reflective choices about how they are going to be present in public through social media, and I took a long time reflecting on what it meant for me to participate on Facebook.
What drove me to make the move? I think it's been over two years since I began receiving invitations. I don't expect my joining Facebook is a big deal to anyone else, but it had to make sense to me.
1. As a pastor, I am a communicator. That is my job. Jesus went to the people, and I am attempting to follow that example. Communication is also part of what makes me who I am. As a steward and student of communication, I can make choices about how I communicate (how frequently, the kinds of things I choose to post, etc.). However, I was persuaded that I could no longer afford to make the choice not to communicate in some ways at all.
2. The Social Network film inspired the sociology and communication student in me.
Seth Godin gave me a Facebook caveat reminding me to be a good communication steward, which my brother stated much more succinctly, "Facebook is a time suck." I don't need to contribute to the noise in the world, but make my communication count. Godin doesn't spend time on Twitter or Facebook. He puts out the only blog in which I read every entry.
I'll still enjoy seeing my friends on Facebook. It was fun to shock some of them by joining.
I think an introvert, non-Digital Native makes reflective choices about how they are going to be present in public through social media, and I took a long time reflecting on what it meant for me to participate on Facebook.
What drove me to make the move? I think it's been over two years since I began receiving invitations. I don't expect my joining Facebook is a big deal to anyone else, but it had to make sense to me.
1. As a pastor, I am a communicator. That is my job. Jesus went to the people, and I am attempting to follow that example. Communication is also part of what makes me who I am. As a steward and student of communication, I can make choices about how I communicate (how frequently, the kinds of things I choose to post, etc.). However, I was persuaded that I could no longer afford to make the choice not to communicate in some ways at all.
2. The Social Network film inspired the sociology and communication student in me.
Seth Godin gave me a Facebook caveat reminding me to be a good communication steward, which my brother stated much more succinctly, "Facebook is a time suck." I don't need to contribute to the noise in the world, but make my communication count. Godin doesn't spend time on Twitter or Facebook. He puts out the only blog in which I read every entry.
I'll still enjoy seeing my friends on Facebook. It was fun to shock some of them by joining.
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