Escape Into Worship

Every now and then you read something that actually takes your breath away. This morning I had that experience, thanks to my friend Beth who sent me a link to this article from The Lutheran.

“A Truly Political Liturgy” by Mark Galli

It came out of a question Beth has been mulling over just lately: “When did worship become a ‘break’?” As in, should we think of our corporate worship time as an escape? The context for the question was a comment about how babysitters were needed during worship in order to “give parents a break.” Hence the tangential question, Is worship a “break”?

If so, what is it a break from? What is it an escape to?

In the article, Mark Galli affirms that worship is an escape from one world into another:

Our sense that worship feels like an escape is in part a good thing. “The liturgy begins … as a real separation from the world,” wrote Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann. One of the points of liturgy is to take people out of their world and usher them into a strange new world. The world the liturgy reveals doesn’t seem politically or socially relevant at first glance. But the world it reveals is more real than the one we inhabit day by day.

The “strange new world” of God’s reign on earth is revealed in worship, like pulling back a curtain and taking a peek out a window. And the world that is revealed, the place to which worshipers escape on a weekly basis is miraculously “more real than the one we inhabit day by day,” which gives us hope. God has something else in mind for creation, something other than hatred, violence, poverty, hunger, prejudice, and all of that nastiness we witness all the time.

So church should be different; worship should offer an alternative; maybe liturgy should feel a bit strange … or unusual. As in “not usual.” By definition, it is. Galli:

In other words, the liturgy immerses us in the society of all societies, the kingdom of all kingdoms, the community of all communities. Whatever we long to see in our nation or community is only that much more in God’s order. We are often tempted to shape our churches to look like the culture or to change the service so it feels more socially relevant. It is logical at one level, and there is no question that we have to be culturally and socially sensitive. But the liturgy shows us a deeper logic and relevance—the world that is dawning and will never end.

I’m always asking, “What makes a church a church?” In other words, how is a church different from a club or a business or any of a list of social institutions that crowd our mailboxes with flyers and letters asking for contributions and other assistance. It seems to me that for a bunch of years in recent memory, the Church’s central question was, “What do people need?” Community demographics were diligently studied in order to answer that question. And when the “felt need” of the community was identified and expressed, the church allowed that need, whatever it may have happened to be, to co-opt the Gospel in priority.

That isn’t always a bad thing, in and of itself. But it edges up against a kind of “bait-and-switch” evangelism that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. If the church draws people in with a promise that their needs will be met, then starts talking about discipleship which entails thinking not of one’s self but of the needs of others, are we truly being faithful to our mission? My fear is that the church is so over-concerned about drawing people in, that we are just so happy when they come we tend to de-emphasize or flat out ignore the call to discipleship, out of fear that all of those people will leave.

I do not believe that worship and “real life” are two completely separate spheres of existence that never meet. I believe that worship happens in the midst of our lives, at any time and any place. My point is not to separate Sunday morning from the rest of the week. But there is (and should be) an element of other-worldliness to worship. Galli:

If not for worship, our vision of a good and just world would slowly fade. We would begin ever so gradually to believe the world’s lies, that this is all one can reasonably hope for, that we must accept life as it comes to us. After participating in worship, we see this lie for what it is and re-enter the world with a vision of the way it’s supposed to be.

So I thing worship is a break, Beth, in a way. Worship is an escape from the world as it is into the world as it should be, as God wants it to be. Whether or not that “break” really means a break from your kids, well, that’s another question, isn’t it? Worship is about celebrating the Divine/human encounter, and responding to that encounter by announcing and embodying a strange and wonderful new way to live.

Distinctly Methodist?

What would make a congregation distinctly Methodist? Other than a big ol’ cross and flame on the sign outside, of course. How would somebody be able to tell that a particular congregation was Methodist?

Just walking in the door one time on any given Sunday, I’m not really sure what that would be. We’re such a diverse denomination. But I’m not really concerned with a one-time impression. I’m thinking more deeply, like a core identity question. Over time, some things would emerge that would be marks of a distinctly Methodist congregation.

It would be connectional. Methodist identity is formed in large part by the connection itself. Congregations are not isolated and do not operate as self-contained units off by themselves, but work together in ministry and cooperate in community and relationship with one another. Preachers itinerate in order for this to happen more effectively. We pool our financial resources, too, and put them to work in global ministries that are more effective than any one congregation could muster alone. The congregational apportionment is not the “bill from the conference,” it is a manifestation of our global connection.

Theologically, the congregation would emphasize grace, and salvation as a way, process, or journey from sin toward a renewed relationship with God. Rather than emphasize a single moment of “conversion,” a Methodist congregation would affirm that salvation is both instantaneous and gradual; and there are moments of conversion all along that way. As a corollary, there would be a “here-and-now” quality to the theology, not completely neglecting the afterlife, but definitely centering on present discipleship as a response to the eternal life given by God through Jesus Christ, and realized in the living presence of the Holy Spirit.

The central, foundational source for everything a Methodist congregation would do would be the Bible. Meetings would begin with Biblical reflection. Sunday School classes and other small groups would read Scripture together regularly. And further, (as Scott Jones wrote, “Scripture alone … yet never alone”) Methodist congregations would rely on tradition, experience, and reason to interpret Scripture. Thus the library in a Methodist congregation would contain a wide array of current, relevant sources on scriptural interpretation, using history, theological writings, testimonies, discussion and reflection resources, and so forth.

There would be balance between mind and heart, so that knowledge and piety would walk hand in hand. Scientific endeavors and historical scholarship would not be belittled; nor would prayer retreat weekends at the monastery. It would not be assumed, for example, that the creation of the world either happened exactly like it says in the Bible or exactly like “the scientists” theorize, but there would be room for both together. Wesleyan theology was formed in a crucible comprised of both Enlightenment and Holiness.

There would be balance between social and personal, so that justice and righteousness would be seamlessly woven. Homeless shelters would be supported and social activism to alleviate human suffering would be common. And at the same time, personal relationships with God through Jesus Christ would be nurtured. John Wesley’s Aldersgate moment happened when he realized that all the stuff he’d been telling other people about God applied to him personally, too, and he responded to that realization by working to end poverty, improve health care, and eradicate the slave trade. A distinctly Methodist church would be neither a social action agency nor a glorified self-help group.

Finally on my list, there would be singing. This one is personal for me, as a singer. Methodists sing “lustily and with good courage,” as John Wesley encourages us to do still today in the front of the hymnal. There is nothing in the world like a Methodist congregation in full-throated praise of almighty God, singing a familiar and well-loved song, practically knocking the roof off the rafters, with smiles on our faces and joy in our hearts. A congregation who has stopped singing has lost something distinctly Methodist.

If you have any to add, or want to remark on any of my suggestions, I hope you post a comment. Tell me if you think a connectional, grace-filled, scripturally grounded, thoughtful, devout, socially active group of Jesus-loving people singing praise to God at the top of their lungs sounds like a Methodist congregation to you!

Cross and Sail?

I was talking with Caden this morning, who goes to preschool here at the church.

"Do you work on a ship?" he asked.

"No," I said with a puzzled look.

"Then why to you have a ship there?" he wondered, pointing to my nametag.

On my nametag is a cross-and-flame Methodist logo. Which I guess looks a bit like a sail on a mast, especially if you're Caden. I never noticed that before!

Is it Satire or is it Offensive? Or is it both?

Have you seen the cover of the New Yorker this week? Kind of crazy, huh? Barack Obama in a Muslim outfit, Michelle Obama dressed like a militant terrorist, U.S. flag burning in the fireplace, picture of bin Laden on the wall. Hmm ...

The "New Yorker" says it's satire. Obama and a bunch of other people say it's offensive. I don't know exactly where the line is.

Of course, what they did was take all the right-wing criticisms of the Obamas and put them into cartoon form. So if this is offensive, it's offensive because the people who said the stuff originally were offensive. But if it's satire, it's satire because the "New Yorker" really doesn't believe all the stuff and is making fun of the people who said it originally. That would make it offensive to the original offenders, then, I suppose.

So yeah, it is possible to think this picture is offensive for more than one reason. You can be offended because it depicts the Obamas celebrating in the Oval Office by doing just what you thought they would do all along, in which case yours is a "see I told you so" kind of offense. Or you might be offended because the New Yorker is giving legitimacy to the right-wing fears about the Obamas by iconizing them on the cover, in which case yours would be an "Oh, please" kind of offense. Or perhaps you are offended on behalf of the character of the Obamas, in which case yours is a "Oh no, they would never..." kind of offense. It is even plausible to be offended because the New Yorker is depicting the burning of a U.S. flag at all, no matter what you think about Barack and Michelle Obama.

What do you think? Satirical / offensive / satiricoffensive? (Ha! I made up a word!) I'm looking forward to reading a comment or two ...

One thing's pretty certain, though. It will probably sell a bunch of magazines!

Assuming Church Growth

When I was appointed to Northtown UMC, the average worship attendance was 150. Four years later it was 200. When my family arrived, our two kids doubled the size of the Children’s Ministry. When we left, there were 25 kids involved regularly. We added staff, we started a student intern program, we reorganized the ministry structure of the congregation.

I get church growth, and I get that there are a lot of ways to make it happen. A lot of people are hopeful that we can figure out a way to make it happen here at Campbell UMC.

However, I do not get church growth when the only motivation seems to be “…because we are not growing.”

A couple of posts ago, I wrote about my disappointment with this year’s Annual Conference session, and couple of people I really respect a lot disagreed with me – one in a blog comment and one via an email conversation. It took me a while to understand why they were disagreeing, because it seemed to me like they were disagreeing with a point that I had not intended to make. It was as if I had written, “Church growth is not important.” At least, that is how it seemed from their responses. I do not believe that church growth is not important, and I honestly did not mean to imply anything like that.

Here’s an implication I intended: Church growth strategies, when presented as overly simplistic tasks that lack deep theological grounding and are motivated by fear and anxiety, are insufficient to sustain congregations in their ministries. That is a point that I intended to make, and I’ll stand by that one.

Here’s how growth happened in North Kansas City. First, it was never my deal alone, it was always a communal effort. Second, we never called it a “church growth” program, we just had a congregational vision and everyone worked their tails off to make that vision real. And third, we thought a lot about creating structures and processes more suited to a bigger church with the goal of growing into those structures and processes over time.

Essentially, we just tried to be the church, knowing that the presence of the living Christ was with us every time we gathered together. We invited people with warmth, friendship, and hospitality. We worshiped with energy and passion. We studied together with honesty, relevance, and intentionality. We served our community and our world with boldness and restlessness for God’s justice. And we gave of ourselves with extravagance, bringing every portion of our lives to Christ – time, talent, money, service, prayers, presence … everything!

And here’s the thing. If a congregation does that stuff, it will grow. If a congregation does that stuff well, growth is assumed because it is a natural consequence, and there is no need to belabor it. Dead horses can only take so much kicking.

I guess what I’m really saying is that Church is more than a set of simplified tasks, more than getting increasing numbers of people in the doors, and the guiding principle for the church cannot be anxiety about decline. Think about it, trying to raise money by saying, “Hey, send us money because we don’t have any” is probably not going to work so well. Or, trying to get young adults involved with the church by saying, “Hey young adults, come to our church because we don’t have any young adults” – well that just doesn’t make any sense.

And likewise, discipling one another for Jesus Christ by saying, “I’d like to invite you to come to church because our numbers just keep going down and if this trend continues we’re probably going to die” is more than likely not going to work so well.

Rather, let’s pray sincerely, think deeply, and work hard to be Christ’s church, in all its complexity, beauty, and messiness. Let’s be church with such excellence that growth is a natural consequence, not the only thing we ever talk about.



Citational addendum entered at 5:00 p.m.:
"Change for the sake of change or to preserve the institution is not sufficient."
- Bishop Robert Schnase, 5 Practices

Good Stuff

What a day! Yesterday, the first Sunday at my new appointment, was phenomenal. Campbell UMC really went all out to welcome us and put on a pretty fabulous party to celebrate. In fact, this whole week has been pretty wonderful. Even in the stress of moving, meeting 400 new friends, getting into a new groove, fitting stuff into new spaces both at home and in my study, and all that jazz – we are really feeling pretty good about life.

We miss our friends in Kansas City, and that reminds us of how grateful we are that they are our friends.

We think a lot about First UMC, Northtown, and that assures us that their new pastor, Kate, is going to find a loving, healthy congregation in which to serve.

We haven’t unpacked all of our boxes yet, and that convicts us of how little stuff we actually need, and how much junk we have just for the sake of having it.

We have only just started learning people’s names, not to mention truly getting to know them and becoming friends, and that feels a little bit … nebulous.

But you know what? I’m an itinerant preacher. That’s what God has called me to be and to do, and that’s a good thing. And you know what else? My family loves me and I love them and we are together. That’s a good thing.

And you know what else, else? I’m starting to learn that churches have a lot more in common than I thought before. That’s probably because of what Horton taught us when he heard a Who – “People are people, no matter how small.” Well – paraphrasing that it might be said that people are people, wherever you go. And people are all kind of woven with the same kinds of thread, you know? We all laugh and cry. We all sleep and eat. We all try to do the right thing and we all make mistakes sometimes.

And in some mysterious and wonderful way, we all long for a relationship with that which transcends us – we all want to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. And a lot of us try to fulfill that longing by hanging out together in these groups we call “churches.” That’s a good thing, too.

I don’t expect every Sunday here at Campbell UMC to be like last Sunday, at least not in terms of the complex logistics involved. But there’s nothing to say that the energy level, the hopefulness, the joy, and all that good stuff to happen every single week. We’re just trying to be church, as best as we know how to do.

And that’s a very good thing.

Life Moves, Baby

Hi!

To say that the last two weeks have been busy would not even begin to convey the level of activity, the amount of stress, the roller coaster of emotion, and the sheer physical / spiritual / mental / emotional exertion we have experienced.

Here's a little synopsis:
- Our foster daughter transitioned back to her mother's house.
- Erin and I helped lead, and Cori and Wes participated in Vacation Bible School in North Kansas City.
- Erin filled in at the Day Care at First UMC, North KC for two weeks.
- Cori and Wes were in summer school every day.- I had an all day meeting of the Board of Managers' of Missouri Ministers' School in Columbia Tuesday before last.
- We packed.
- We had our last weekend at the church in Northtown, with all of the love and "good-byes" that entailed.
- We watched three guys load all our stuff onto a big orange truck.
- We drove to Springfield, Missouri.
- We spent the night with some great friends.
- Two of the three guys met us at our new house and proceeded to unload all the stuff they had previously loaded.
- We began opening boxes, unpacking stuff, arranging furniture, opening more boxes, looking for the pots and pans, and so forth.
- Cori articulated our feeling that "Stuff is evil."
- A wonderful woman, a member of Campbell, died on Tuesday and I'll have the privilege of leading her memorial service along with the Visitation Pastor, Rev. Joe Lightner this Saturday.
- I started getting my church office all set up and the first thing I did was steal the office furniture of the Associate Pastor, Rev. Melissa Dodd. (Not really, she actually very graciously offered it to me!)
- We began meeting some wonderful, friendly, warm and welcoming people who go to Campbell UMC, where I start as the pastor this coming Sunday morning.

Whew - I'm tired just writing about it! Although there's more that has been happening, that pretty much hits the highlights. We've managed to have some fun, too. We went to the neighborhood swimming pool; we chased fireflies; Dad came down to help and we had a good visit. And the staff here at Campbell is so wonderful and helpful and just generally cool people to be around.

So, when I "officially" begin here as the pastor next week, and things begin to get into a groove again, I'll be back blogging with more regularity. I've got a lot on my mind, building up over this little "moving" hiatus. Who knows what may come spewing forth when I finally sit down next week to do a real post?

Hammock Tryptich

Annual Conference 2008 Wrap-Up

I posted once during annual conference with intentions to post frequently. That did not happen, obviously, mainly “just because.” So here’s my summary post, for what it’s worth.

To say this first: I appreciate the enormity of the task of putting together a session of annual conference, and I am now on the sessions committee who will plan and organize the 2009 session. As hard as one works, one will never be able to please everyone every time. And it is very likely that there were many people who thought this year’s session was good, maybe even one of the best ever.

But I have to confess that I’m not among them. I apologize in advance for this, but here’s what I thought of conference this year. It is all, of course, "imho":

Tongue in cheek, I wonder if the theme of the conference was “You People Suck At Doing Really, Really Easy Things.” Once again, the decline in membership and attendance was a central focus. And once again, a litany of simple ideas you, too can implement in your local congregation in order to get more butts in the pews was presented. Once again, pastors who happen to have very attractive personalities and coincidentally serve in growing churches stood before the conference and talked about their own experiences as if they could be universalized into every context with equivalent results.

That last sentence is not really fair, to tell the truth. There were a couple of people who very humbly said this is what worked for us but you have to do what will work in your own setting. There was one who actually said don’t do anything by the “felt need” of the community or for the sake of being “relevant,” but rather just be the church in all it’s beauty and complexity and ambiguity. Be faithful and don’t worry so much about the numbers. This was my favorite moment of the whole weekend. But he was very obviously the exception.

At a recent event (not annual conference), a conference staffer in Missouri said that your theology doesn’t matter, just the packaging. And that theme definitely carried through into this year’s session. My eyes were glazed over by the shallow, vapid content of the conference. We were presented the idea of putting a church info label on a bottle of water and handing it out as if we were exploring the depths of the trinity. We allowed the health insurance industry to trump the covenant relationship of the clergy in conference as we discussed changing health insurance plans for our retirees – not in the result, but in the way we talked about it. Judging by our conference, you’d think putting up signs and some neat paint around your church building was equivalent to the via salutis.

We did not mention the war in Iraq one single time. Not even in passing.

We did not say anything about earthquakes in China or cyclones in Myanmar.

The emergent church movement was not even a glimmer in anybody’s eye.

One of the most powerful moments of the conference was when Carol Kreamer presented on the conference’s ministry in Mozambique. She told us stories about malaria. She broke down in tears as she related the death of a beautiful young woman to a disease that is running rampant in many, many communities. And yet she spoke of hope as we all wrote letters to senators urging the sponsorship and passage of Senate Bill S2433 – the Global Poverty Act. That was one of the only moments, outside of worship, that really felt like church to me.

There was some other good stuff: We raised enough money to buy a whole heck of a lot of P.E.T.S., which is wonderful. And we raised enough money to buy another whole heck of a lot of mosquito nets, which is also wonderful. And Bishop Robert Schnase threw out the first pitch at a Springfield Cardinals baseball game, and he did not bounce it, which was very not embarrassing in the least. And a few others …

So I guess that one of my things I’ll advocate on the sessions committee is to make the Annual Conference session NOT a collection of workshops. I think the conference should do those throughout the year, with specific foci at various times and places. Annual Conference should be a time to re-connect with the connection, worship together, and do business that absolutely must be done. And further, the re-connection must be comprised of loosely structured time, not just “free time” with nothing in place. And the worship must have some depth, not just more “butts in the pews” stuff. And a lot the business could very well be almost done by the time we get there, if the information we need would be made available online in advance of the actual meeting, and even if some of the rubber stamping … oh, I mean the votes … could be tallied ahead of time electronically.

48 hours is all we would need. 60 maybe. 10 a.m. Friday to 6 p.m. Sunday. Get in, hug everybody, worship, commission some people, ordain some people, have a few votes, have communion, fix the appointments, get out.

But the format doesn’t matter, the length doesn’t matter, the location doesn’t matter – none of the packaging matters, no matter what we are being encouraged to think. What matters most is the content. Churches grow because of the content, not the packaging. Lives are transformed because of the content, not the packaging. Conferences are meaningful because of the content, not the packaging. Packaging impacts content, but we must consider content first.

Fastest growing churches? In Africa, Central America – what’s their packaging like? Cinder block building? Benches under a tree? It’s all about the content!

When we are told over and over again that it’s all about counting heads, and that the numbers of those counts are in decline, and the ways to reverse that decline relate to packaging and are very easy to do (“not rocket surgery” was the direct quote, I believe), and that we are really, really bad at it even though it is apparently really, really easy to do, suffice it to say that one does not leave the event with a sense of “a future with hope.” It all serves to just make us more anxious, more frazzled, and to feel as if all of our hard work is not being valued.

If you’ve read the above and have actually made it to this concluding paragraph, thanks. And you all should know that I know the people who planned and most who led this year’s session, and I love them dearly. My responses are not intended to be personal by any means. However, it is the case that I left the session deflated this year, and very disappointed by the overall experience.

Annual Conference 2008 - We're Here!

I've noticed a dichotomy at Annual Conference. On the one hand, in the sermon today and the Bishop's talk among others, there is a great energy and hope and Christ-centered, mission focused stuff. It's great and renewing and really cool and fun and powerful stuff.

Then we do the business. And the business stuff is a perfect example of an organization meeting together for the sake of itself, and one of the most frustrating aspects of mainline Christianity in general. It feels so rote, so bare minimum, so shallow.

Isn't there a different way to do this? Why do we have to gather together to be handed a printed list of names of people that are then read out loud to us and a perfunctory, half-hearted raising of the hands rubber stamps it? There has got to be another way to do this, better than this organizational meeting for the sake of the organization.

Hmm ... let's work on it!

Verbal Assault After Worship

I was verbally assaulted yesterday after worship. That sounds so dramatic, but I don’t know any other words that better describe it. I was the target of fifteen minutes of verbal abuse, and what made it even worse is that it came in the guise of a theological critique of my sermon, the worship service, and the congregation in general.

Here’s what happened. We had a family of first-time guests yesterday, a mom (Martina) and her six kids, aged in their teens and twenties. At least I’m assuming they were a family, we never really got that far. They came up to me in the line after the service, near the back. There were a dozen or fifteen people left in the line after them. We shook hands and they told me their names, and I introduced myself and told them how good it was to have them here in worship.

It kind of went downhill from there.

“Is this a Bible believing church?” Martina asked next.

Maybe I should interject here that my sermon, from Romans 3 and 2nd Corinthians 5, had centered on the theme that Christ died for all not just some, that there is no distinction between people in God’s eyes, that we all sin and fall short of the glory of God, and that God loves all of us rather than only a particular group. The children’s sermon featured a craft made by some of the kids of the church, made out of posterboard, felt, markers, and yarn, that depicted a beautifully diverse circle of people all holding hands with the phrase “God loves us” in the middle of the circle.

The overall theme of worship was, “No matter our differences, God loves us all.”

Martina and her family proceeded to subject me to fifteen minutes of tag-team haranguing that was comprised of a litany of ultra-right wing Christian language and a succession of what sounded like rehearsed buzz words and phrases. They were very sad for the children, who had not heard the call to repentance this morning. They were angry about how I had presented that which what makes us all the same: I emphasized that God loves us all and they wanted me to emphasize that we all sin. They were worried for the soul of one parishioner with whom they had spoken, who dared to say that he hoped everyone would get to heaven. They questioned my own faith, and my role as a pastor who would only preach a part of the Gospel. They lamented the spiritual condition of this congregation who is clearly suffering under my leadership.

And on and on…

It is kind of hard to describe, but their tone was bitter and angry, accusatory and malicious. It made my stomach hurt.

I realized after a minute that they really didn’t want to have a conversation. From what I can remember, my own responses to them included:
- I would love to have this conversation with you, but not right now. Please call me at the church first thing in the morning.
- It isn’t reasonable to include every aspect of the Gospel message in every sermon, and your observations are based on hearing only one sermon. Growing in faith means being a part of a community over time, which gives you a chance to hear different points of emphasis at different weeks.
- If you would like to wait for me, I’ll continue this conversation in a few moments. Right now we are being disrespectful to the others waiting in line behind you. (This was after 5 – 6 minutes.)
- It’s not really up to me whether everybody goes to heaven, is it? I think God makes that decision, and that God really, really wants everybody to get to heaven. Today’s sermon was more concerned with living a Christ-centered life right now, as I mentioned from 2 Corinthians this morning.
- Salvation is a journey, and as John Wesley pointed out, people find themselves at many different places on that journey from the very beginnings of a relationship all the way through being perfected in love. You can’t speak to everyone every time.

And so forth …

I think that, halfway through it, I understood that nothing I said was going to make a difference on Martina or the older ones, so I started meeting the eyes of the teenagers. They were standing in a semi-circle around me, each within two to three feet of me, so it was easy for me to see them all! I noticed that sometimes the teens would kind of “shush” one another at times to allow me a word in edgewise. I noticed that the youngest ones didn’t say anything. I also noticed that they would glance quickly over at Martina when I was looking at them – looking for …help? …affirmation? …what? But they mostly met my gaze steadily, even when I invited one teenage boy to turn around to the people behind them in line and explain to them the reasons for the hold-up or that, if they were concerned for particular people, they might want to go to those people and have this conversation with them rather than me.

I have to confess that I took a kind of guilty pleasure in the final moments of our … ahem … “conversation.” In an attempt to make her final emphatic point, Martina observed that I was nothing like John Wesley, and began quoting the hymn “And Can It Be That I Should Gain” at me. I’m sorry to say that I was amused by the look of surprise in her eyes when I began matching her word for word, and even finished the verse for her when she stopped.

Now, this has been my perspective on what happened. I’m sure that Martina and her family have a different take on it. I honestly would love to hear it and understand it, but I don’t think I ever will. But I wonder, what was their motivation? What was at stake for them? Even bracketing out the content, what possessed them to have this conversation at this time in this place? Why would they have possibly felt that was appropriate?

I’m not going to obsess over / dwell on this event. Writing this article has been a very helpful part of shaking the dust off my feet and moving on (thank you, MS). But I also don’t want to just ignore it altogether, because who knows who the next target will be? I had heard of stuff like this happening, but this was really one of the very first times it happened to me with such violence. If my writing about it helps another victim of such verbal abuse, then I’ll write about it a million times.

When my son Wes asked me about it later (yes, he saw it happening, as did my daughter Cori and a bunch of other people), I kind of explained how that when I said “God loves everybody” it made those people angry.

Wes said, “That’s sad.” That’s about right. Thanks for the perspective, Wes.


Update: Also posted here.

Writing Articles

Moving sure is busy! I haven't written a blog post in a while, so I decided to put up my last newsletter article, the final one I'll write for North KC UMC:

I have started writing this article a half a dozen times so far. It will be the last newsletter article I write as the pastor of First UMC, Northtown, and so it’s a bit … tricky. I’m not sure what direction to go with it, you know?

I could do the whole “weepy goodbye” thing. I could go with the “close a door/open a window” metaphor. I could write an encouraging word about the future of the congregation. I could reminisce about the growth the congregation has experienced over the last four years. I could talk about Christian mission and keeping the congregational focus where it needs to be. I could describe my vocation as an itinerant preacher in the United Methodist Church. I could extol the unlimited potential of this congregation in it’s ministries of Hospitality, Worship, Faith Development, Mission and Service, and Generosity. I could share my belief that God has called me through the appointment process to serve at Campbell UMC in Springfield. I could mention the constancy of change in the world. I could thank you on behalf of my family for the love you have shown us over the last four years.

Truth is, I’m kind of at a loss for words. Hmm …

So I think I’ll write about writing articles. This will not be the last article I ever write, of course. I write a couple of articles per week, actually, only I call them “posts” and put them up on my blog. I’m going to keep doing that. I’ll write articles for other congregations’ newsletters, both papery and paperless. Wherever I go, I’ll write articles. I may even write articles that show up published in magazines or journals. I have a couple of those already, and I hope there will be more.

And Kate will probably write some articles while she is serving here. Truth is, whoever the pastor of this congregation is will write articles, whenever that pastor may be here and in whatever form those articles might appear. There will continue to be things written and distributed, messages of love and grace, expressions of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, articulations of the congregation’s vision and how it fits into the mission of God in this world. For the people of this congregation who want it, the opportunity of reading articles will still be available.

So why is this article so tricky? How is this article any different than any of those? Isn’t it really just one among many? Isn’t it really just an article, after all?

I mean, as long as we continue to offer people a relationship with God through Jesus Christ in the midst of a spirit-filled congregation, a relationship that transforms our lives and makes us better people than we really are, a relationship that we dare to call salvation, what difference will one little article make, anyway?

Grace and Peace,
Andy B.

Preaching Thoughts

The Real Live Preacher, Gordon Atkinson, writes that "The discipline of Sunday night is forgetting."

It is on Sunday nights that my mind turns inward and I ask myself, "What have I done with my life? Is this a good and worthy way to spend a life? Does preaching really do anything? Does it help people engage the scriptures, or is it just a little show on Sunday mornings so we can all pretend we still care about being connected to these ancient writings?"

Take a moment and check out his essay, it is really good (as usual).

Easy Ways to Curb the Annoying Problem of Church Growth

(From my friend Martin):

- Begin every sermon with the phrase, "You know what's wrong with you people..."

- Place a roller coaster "You Must Be This Tall" sign at the entrance of the sanctuary.

- Keep the Christmas Pageant livestock in the choir room year 'round.

- If you have an auditorium that slopes down to the platform, give every kid under 12 a handful of marbles before the service every week.

- Put a blank for "weight" on the membership invitation forms.

- Demand mandatory drug testing for all senior adult excursions.

- Have the organist play baseball cheers at pivotal moments of the sermon.

- Before taking up the offering, have the worship leader scream, "Show me the money!"

- Charge restroom tolls.

- Illustrate every sermon with a scene from "Walker, Texas Ranger."

- Use the "American Idol" format for new member classes.

A Moving Lesson

Twice in the past week, I have shown complete strangers through the house - every ro0m, closet, and cabinet. Upon meeting them for the first time ever, within fifteen minutes they have peeked into my family's personal spaces, looked through our clothing, taken note of our valuables (such as they are), and made basically a complete inventory of all the stuff comprising our lives. When a half hour has passed, they know as much or more about us than almost anyone else we know.

And then they leave. And I'll probably never see them again.

They are the people who are putting together the estimates for our upcoming move to Springfield. They have to inventory everything in order to give us an idea of what the move is going to cost, which they do by weight, apparently. The guy who was here today was doing his fourth out of five walk-throughs of the day; he told me that one year he did a total of 750!

"I'll bet you've developed a pretty good eye for this kind of stuff, huh?" I asked him.

With a grin, he said, "You wouldn't believe some of the things I've seen."

Can you imagine what it would be like to do this job? I mean, to take a stroll through the lives of two or three families every day of the week, noticing things. That's what you would do - notice things. Not just furniture, but books, dishes, TV, stereo, Precious Moments, grandmother's paintings, toys, storage bins, ping-pong table, vacuum cleaner, bikes, the toolbox, golf clubs, patio furniture, the good china, and so forth.

And then the other stuff that you'd have to notice but wouldn't make your inventory. The breakfast dishes in the sink, the 10-year-old's dirty clothes from yesterday on her floor, the week's worth of a pile of mail stacked on the phone desk, the pee stain on the basement floor in the little dog's favorite spot, the pile of wrinkly clothes on the living room floor waiting to be ironed, the toothpaste globs on the 7-year-old's sink, and so forth.

And you notice all this stuff, you see into the lives of all of these people, and I can't believe it would remain merely a business transaction. Of course, on one level it would have to be. You would have to keep it professional - boundaries and all that. But wouldn't it be fascinating to get to know so many people by making a close examination of all of their personal possessions?

You would get a glimpse at the core of their lives. You would understand some things about the way they live. You would get a sense of their priorities, their values. The guy today said, "There are a lot of books, aren't there?" (Erin and I never thought of ourselves as having a lot of books, but apparently we do, relatively speaking.) Seeing all of our books allowed the guy to know something about us that he didn't know before, namely, that we like to read a lot.

And I would imagine some questions would arise, questions that could lead to making some judgements about people - Are there TVs in the bedrooms? How many video game systems? Does the living room smell like cigarettes? Does the living room smell like lilacs? Do they recycle? Are they neat freaks? Are they slobs? You would have to be pretty careful to refrain from judging other people based on the intimate knowledge you would gain.

Hmm ... maybe our relationships with our very best friends are kind of like that, too. They are the ones we will let see into our closets, knowing that they will see all of our crap, but also knowing that they're not going to judge us for it. And we do the same for them.

And maybe our relationship with God is like that, too. Completely transparent and open before God, revealing the dirty clothes on our floor and the breakfast dishes piled in the sink, and knowing that we'll be loved anyway. (Not that the moving company loves us, and not that God is going to subsequently submit the estimate of what it will cost to move us to heaven or anything - it's just a metaphor.)

Anyway, the two people that have been here were really nice, very friendly guys. We got along great, even had some laughs, and it didn't feel anywhere nearly as creepy as I thought it might!

God's Language

At the "Talking Box" last week (our Children's Sermon), I pulled out a few foreign language dictionaries to look at and asked the kids if they knew any words in another language. A few did - we had Spanish, German, Japanese. Then I asked the kids what language did they think God speaks. There were probably 25-30 kids up there, and so there were quite a few voices who all said at once, "Every language!"

We all had a chuckle, then one boy put his hand up. "Yes, Preston?" I said.

"I think God speaks God-Language," he said.

That was a pretty good answer, I thought, and close to the message that I wanted the kids to hear, so I was getting ready to go with it. However, just then I noticed a girl (happened to be Preston's sister) who had her hand up, as well. "Summer, did you have something else?" I asked, ready to get on with the God's-language-is-more-and-bigger-and-different-than-any-words-we-could-use lesson of the day.

Summer said, "Maybe God's language actually is every language."

At first, I thought Summer had said the same thing we said originally, which was that God speaks every language. But as I thought about it, I realized there is a subtle difference. It is a different thing to say "God speaks every human language" than to say "The language of God is comprised of every human language." The first makes me think of God sitting there in the heavenly language lab, slogging through word by word vocab memorization like I did with German in college. The second makes me think of the words I know as if they are gifts God has given me so that I can communicate with other people.

I like that second one better, I think. If English is a little portion of God-language that God has given me, then Spanish is a little portion God has given another person, and French, and Japanese, and Quiche, and so on and so forth. Thinking of language as a gift that God gives makes it impossible for me to insist that another person learn "my language" so that we can somehow manage to get along. Rather, each of us can figure out how to communicate, using the little bits of God-language that we share in common.

It is fascinating to me how many people are so angry about people who speak languages other than English here in the United States. I'm trying to figure out the source of that anger. Is it fear? Is it pride? Is it arrogance? Is it some strange form of patriotism? To be sure, having a common language makes it much easier to communicate with each other. But why in the world does the phrase "Please press 1 for English and 2 for Spanish" make some people so cranky?

Whatever the national, secular, "official" language issues may be, what Christians read in Acts 2 is quite clearly that the disciples spoke in many different languages, empowered by the Holy Spirit. It wasn't the other way around - the Holy Spirit did not empower all of the other people to understand one language - Aramaic, for example. I think that is because the message entrusted to disciples of Jesus is just so vitally important that disciples need to figure out how best to communicate that message, in whatever language it needs to be expressed.

That means instead of insisting non-English speakers learn English, Christians maybe should learn other languages, with the goal of communication in whatever language(s) work(s) best. Not just foreign languages either, but the lingo of different age groups, the dialects of different cultures, the media of different generations, and so forth.

Remember the Tower of Babel story - a quirky little tale that illuminates the human tendency toward homogeneity, countered by God's desire for diversity (Genesis 11:1-9). Well, Pentecost wasn't the opposite of the Tower of Babel, as I once thought. I used to think that the Tower of Babel story confused all the languages and the Pentecost story brought them all back together. But now I think rather that Pentecost reinforces Babel, emphasizing the reality that God has made people different - cultures, places, languages, ages, etc. The Holy Spirit then empowers us to connect with each other within that diversity, it does not eliminate that diversity for the sake of an artificially imposed uniformity.

Language is a human creation, but I believe that God empowers that creativity. That means, for me, that language is given by God and is therefore sacred. We then can choose how to use it - to help or to hurt, to build up or to tear down, to love or to hate, to share good news or to condemn. If language is a sacred gift, how we choose to use it would then reveal something of what we think about God. So I think Summer is right - God's language actually is all languages together. And so learning another person's language teaches us something more about God.

Understand Each Other ... Use Words if Necessary

I love Pentecost weekend, don't you? Some of it is the whole red thing - the one and only time in the Christian calendar that particular color makes an appearance. That makes it all the more striking when it comes. In Northtown, like a lot of other churches I'm sure, we're all invited to wear red to worship, to enhance that impact.

But more than the color, I love Pentecost because it's all about communication / lanugage / understanding one another / relationship. And all made real by the Holy Spirit, and recorded in the book of Acts, chapter 2.

Though the wind and fire (no earth?) are exciting, I'm more intrigued by what happens after the tongues of flame come, when the disciples start talking, and the people start understanding. Acts 2 does not record what exactly they said, only a general topic: "God's deeds of power" (NRSV) or "The wonders of God" (NIV). Yet even without the benefit of knowing their specific words, we are told that a whole lot of people understood the message, and some responded with amazement, some with perplexity, and some just cynically made fun of them.

Question: Why did God inspire the author of Acts at this point to exclude the actual words of the disciples in this story? Why weren't these words so important? Of course, we get to hear Peter's words later (vv. 14-36), but at this point all we know is that the 12 were talking, but we don't know what they were saying.

I think that maybe there's something about understanding one another that transcends the words we say. Maybe we too often get stuck on the words and never get to the actual understanding. Have you ever found yourself thinking, "I hear the words you are saying, but I have no idea what you're talking about" in the middle of a conversation? And on the flipside of that, have you ever been able to truly understand another person without them needing to say a word?

Pentecost seems to be about how people understand one another, empowered by the Holy Spirit. There is a "sighs too deep for words" quality to it. It reminds me of the well-known line, "Preach the Gospel ... use words if necessary." Words are powerful and important, and I'm a "word guy" so please don't read this as advocating complete silence all the time. That would lead to some pretty boring blog posts, for one thing.

I heard a radio story this morning about a poet who works by eliminating words from the New York times. The results, after marking out the words he doesn't need, are his poems. (click here) Maybe the key to understanding one another is figuring out what words we don't need to say?

Also posted here.

Catching Up

It has been a while since I posted - I know that. Here are some catching up tidbits:

- I pledge to mention Rev. Jeremiah Wright only once on Enter the Rainbow, and now that's done.

- The United Methodist General Conference is over, and somehow the sun still rose this morning.

- Tony Jones: "...emergent Christians do not have membership or doctrine to hold them together. The glue is relationship. That makes it difficult to put one's finger on just what emergent is; to the quesiton 'What do you all hold in common?' the answer is most likely 'We're friends.'"

- For a little while there, I forgot that I'm only pastor of one congregation, and tried to serve two at the same time. Tricky! Thank God I'm done with that phase of life. North Kansas City and Campbell UMCs are both wonderful congregations with wonderful leadership. I am the pastor at NKC through June 22; I am the pastor at CUMC as of Jun 29. Part of being pastor here is trying to help the new pastor learn as much as she can about this congregation in the meantime; a gift which is being given my by the pastors at CUMC, too. It's all about smooth transitions.

- We had our former foster kids over yesterday afternoon to play. Erin said that she realized at the park that there were five kids all calling her "Mommy" at the same time! It was so cool!

- I love Spring.

- I was a Spiritual Director at a Cursillo weekend last weekend. It was a means of grace - again! It is amazing to witness those weekends as they unfold. At about 10:00 Saturday morning, there is a kind of holy griminess that, even having showered, makes you feel a little bit scuzzy and tired. But knowing that you are grimy together with a bunch of other grimy Christians is somehow a more powerful expression of the unity of the Holy Spirit than just about anything else.

- Finally, my most recent favorite joke: A guy walks into a bookstore. "Can I have a book by Shakespeare?"
"Sure," said the clerk. "Which one?"
"Um ... William."

The Tree Across the Alley, 2

Remember that tree across the alley from my office? click here

Look at it now!

Get Service

This pretty much speaks for itself.

UMC Divisiveness: An Annoying Buzz

Did anyone else notice how Andrew Thompson characterizes the "great divide" of the UMC in his most recent Reporter column?

He writes that there are "two parties" consisting of "those who want to keep the church's doctrine in conformity to Scripture and the broad catholic tradition, and those who insist the church should better reflect the pluralistic, individualistic culture of the wider American society." Now, he doesn't get specific about which "hot-button issues" he is thinking of, but I've got to ask about a few of his word choices.

First: Andrew sees only two "parties" in the UMC. However, in my experience, there are WAY more that two perspectives on every issue, and assuming an either/or outlook just contributes to the myth of divisiveness that so many people are working to overcome. As much as we might want the world to be neatly divided into conservative/liberal, red/blue, or whatever/whichever, in reality life is much more complex, and most of us are okay with that.

Second: Andrew assumes that it is impossible to come up with multiple interpretations of Scripture and tradition. He seems to believe that, if there is disagreement, it must mean that one perspective seeks "conformity" to Scripture/tradition and one does not. However, I have found that it is quite common for equally faithful Christians to study scripture, pray, think, and discuss; and nonetheless end up with different beliefs. Furthermore, it is possible to believe in a way that is grounded in Scripture and tradition, and also the real life experience of living in a diverse, complex, global society.

The column really isn't about divisiveness. His main idea is that we can't let the impending divisiveness of General Conference distract us from other, very important issues. I agree (though I do not agree with his take on those issues per se). But it strikes me that in his act of naming the divisiveness, he does the very thing he is cautioning us against. It's like walking into a room and somebody says, "Hey, do you hear that annoying buzzing noise?" And you say, "Well, not until you mentioned it - and now I can't not hear it."

What if we approached General Conference anticipating honest disagreements expressed graciously, with respect and love? What if we approached General Conference knowing that there would be a wide array of beliefs and ideas being expressed, and we could be okay with that? I read last week (don't remember where) that there is room in the church for disagreement, but not division. I think that is an important distinction to make.

General Conference doesn't have to be divisive, and the decision to make it not be so starts now as the UMC prepares. It starts with one person deciding not to buy into the divisiveness myth, and grows outward from there. It starts with one delegation saying, "Not this year," and setting a hopeful tone that will trickle over into the delegations sitting around them. It starts with one delegate relinquishing their fear and asking another delegate with whom they know they disagree about something to have a cup of coffee and talk about their favorite hobbies or sports or something.

We are not united by our beliefs - we are united by the grace of God. And that's where we will find a future with hope.

The Lord's Prayer

Are Worship Leaders Performers?

I asked my PLUM group Monday afternoon if worship leaders were performers. (btw - "PLUM" is the first year contextual ed class at Saint Paul School of Theology.) We were discussing a case study that involved a new worship leader, and the issue of worship / performance was a central theme. So I just wanted to take a little poll around the table to see what people were thinking.

I asked, "Are worship leaders performers, and why or why not?"

One of the responses really got me thinking. Someone said that worship leaders should try to draw the congregation into the worship service. That's a pretty good description of a worship leader's role, I think. Worship leaders facilitate the experience, creating the time and space in which the people who have gathered are able to encounter the presence of God.

Okay, I thought, how is that different from performing a play? (Go with me for a little while, here.) When I perform in a play, I try to draw the audience into the narrative. Actors try to facilitate the experience, creating the time and space in which the people who have gathered are able to encouter the story being presented.

Likewise, musicians perform in order to draw the audience into the piece of music being presented. Dancers dance to facilitate the audience's encouter with the art, and so forth. It seems to me that in any art form, especially performance arts, the artists' goal is to draw the audience into the experience in a meaningful way.

To be sure, some performers have less noble intentions. There are those whose only desire is egotistical self-aggrandizement, who want only to receive accolades and be applauded. And to be honest, it feels pretty good to get a standing ovation! Clearly a worship leader should not be motivated by such selfish incentives; a worship leader should point to God, not to self.

But leaving that idea aside, I think that the parallels between performing a play (for example) and leading a worship service are very obvious. Leading worship is very much a performance, and the goal is to draw the congregation into the experience toward the end of facilitating that divine/human encounter. And as performance, leading worship is a skill that can be honed with training and practice. That doesn't diminish or minimize worship; that doesn't make leading worship "fake" or anything. Far from it - it is a sacred activity and a vital part of healthy, vibrant congregations.

I have changed my mind on this issue a bunch, and probably will again. I have used the metaphor of God as audience and congregation as actors and worship leaders as prompters for the performance before. But that leaves God as a passive observer, and I really think God is very active in a worship service. Because worship planning and worship leadership are spiritual gifts of mine, I'm sure I'll be thinking about this idea for a long time.

What do you think? Are worship leaders "performers"?


Update: Also posted here.

Thirty Seven

Today I turned thirty-seven.
I have been married for almost fifteen years.
My daughter is ten.
My son is seven.

I have been in ministry for fifteen years.
Pastoral ministry for eight years.
Ordained for almost one.

I have one Bachelor's
and two Master's
degrees.

I have conducted a performance of
Mozart's Requiem.

I have been in 18 countries
and 43 states.

I have played Harold Hill.

I have had singing.

The thirty-six to thirty-seven birthday
is not a "biggie."
I don't qualify for anything new.
I don't gain a privilege.
It doesn't end in zero.

But it is nonetheless a good day.

Today I ate breakfast with my son at church.
I helped my daughter set up her new soccer goal.
Then it started snowing and so she went inside.
So I helped some friends haul brush.
(Yep, it was still snowing.)

Then my family took me out to lunch
at Lulu's Noodles downtown.

There were presents and cards
and phone calls.

I played
Trivial Pursuit: Star Wars Edition
with my son.
He let me go first, since it was my birthday.

There was Saturday night worship
with cake.

When you are a thirty-seven year old
pastor,
people in the congregation think
one of two things:
You are young.
or
You are old.

When I ask,
How old do you think I am?
older people guess too young
and younger people guess too old.

I can still run up stairs
two at a time.

And I enjoy an occasional
afternoon nap.

I am thirty-seven years old.
And it's all good.

Appointments, Itineracy, and Young Adults: I Disagree!

I promise I didn't write my previous post just to set the stage for this one, but nonetheless, the timing seems a bit fortuitous. The latest edition (April 4, 2008) of the United Methodist Reporter discusses three pretty big issues, and I have points of disagreement with all three.

And so, fellow United Methodists, I love you, and I disagree with you, too.

(Numbers in parentheses are paragraph numbers in the 2004 United Methodist Book of Discipline.)

First issue = The guaranteed appointment.
Firstly, way to go Dennis Harper for making the front page picture! (And that's the top of my grandfather's head in the middle there, too.) Kudos to Missouri AC for the front page publicity!

Secondly, I disagree with the initial premise: that clergy are guaranteed appointments. We are in covenant with each other, and "every effective elder in full connection who is in good standing shall be continued under appointment by the bishop" (334.1) because we have promised to "offer [ourself] without reserve to be appointed and to serve as the appointive authority may determine" (335). This is a relationship centered on trust and covenantal love, and as such all of those invovled offer something - clergy will go where we are sent, the conference will send us somewhere.

Thirdly, there is already language in place that addresses the concerns that some have expressed. Clergy are to be appointed unless, among other things, we "have failed to meet the requirements for continued eligibility" (337.1). And those requirements include "growth in vocational competence and effectiveness through continuing formation" (334.2.b). Seems to me that addresses the major concern, namely that incompetent and ineffective pastors continue to be appointed, with no check or accountability from teh conference. Continued growth vocationally is already a part of the covenant relationship of the clergy, and if that part of the covenant is not being met, the language is in place already for addressing that. Dare I say: Bishops, take thou authority! Claim that language and act on it before more Disciplinary tinkering.

There is no need to add more bureaucracy to an already top-heavy system.

Second issue = The future of the itineracy
The itineracy is an imperfect structure, created by imperfect people, and it definitely doesn't work for everybody.

With that said, my disagreement with those who call for a drastic change in the itineracy is that their points of conflict with the current system are mostly mythical. My position is that the itineracy HAS changed, and is always changing, and will change organically and naturally, without any need to foist upon it yet another decree from "up top."

Myth 1, the big secret:
My great-grandfather used to pack up his belongings in order to travel to Annual Conference, not knowing if he would be returning to the same charge or moving on. Today, my name has been posted on the Missouri Conference website since March 24th, announcing my upcoming move to my new appointment. One of the biggest changes is the openness of the process.

Myth 2, a rigid hierarchy:
Here in Kansas City, we are celebrating a ministry that has lasted for decades as Emmanuel Cleaver III is transitioning out of the lead pastor role at St. James UMC. (Did I mention it lasted for decades?) Nearby, pastors at UM churches such as Woods Chapel and Church of the Resurrection have been appointed for extraordarily long periods of time. My point being, the itineracy is already fluid and flexible, and there are exceptions to how it happens everywhere you look.

Myth 3, no choice:
This very year, one of my colleagues and friends was offered an appointment, visited the place, and then politely and firmly said "No thank you." And that request was honored. When I was first discussing my new appointment, I was given time to pray, discern, and talk with my wife about the move, having recieved permission to say no if I felt like it. While I was in seminary, a fellow student met with a Staff/Parish Committee about a possible appointment, and the SPRC told the Superintendent that it wasn't going to work out, and the person was appointed somewhere else.

The itineracy is changing, and that change is emerging from the real lives of the people invovled in the covenant relationship among clergy, conference, and congregations. There is no need to enact denominational legislation from above when it is already happening from below. There are horror stories, I know - but those stories are mostly about people in power who are abusing that power, not about the system iteself.

Third issue = Young Adult Clergy
AGAIN with the young clergy issue! "Come and save us, under 35 year olds!"
"Look, up in the sky - it's a bird, it's a plane! NO! It is a young clergy person! Hooray, the day is saved!"
AAAHH!

OK, out of my system.

I love and respect Lovett Weems, and I disagree with his premise that age is an automatic qualifier for being "adept at reaching emerging generations." I flat out disagree that an arbitrarily chosen age, in this case 35, makes somebody "closer to culture, to the life experience of young persons." One problem with that assumption is that people get older. I'm turning 37 on Saturday, and so I'm out of the category - automatically less adept at reaching young people, automatically more distant from culture (whose culture, by the way?), automatically unable to appreciate the life experience of someone in their 20s.

And the flipside of that: when I was in my 20s, I was as out of touch with the "Pop Culture" scene as it was possible for someone to be. I was a choir director, for goodness's sake, directing a traditional church choir, putting together orchestras and choruses to perform masterworks of classical music, singing with a professional chamber choir, performing in community theaters ... listing to NPR!

Dr. Weems (whom I love and respect, as previously mentioned) said that young clergy bring "energy, vision, vitality that's always needed from young leadership in any organization." Why is the word "young" in that sentence? Is that not what is needed from ALL leadership, no matter how old they might be?

+++

If you have read this post and made it to this point, congratulations! I know this post has been kind of long and wordy, but I read my Reporter yesterday and got all worked up, so I needed this outlet. Others have, too - my brother Brad and my friend Erika have posted on these issues.

I hope that you will comment if you want to, and please feel free to disagree - I know I have!

Disagreeable Congregations?

One of the things I love about this remarkable congregation is the way we disagree with each other.

Now, that sentence is not as weird as it might look initially. Because to "disagree with each other" assumes the "with each other" part; in order to disagree with someone, a relationship with them is implied. And the relationship is really what it's all about, anyway - not the agreeing or the disagreeing.


Let me sort of flesh that out a bit. Obviously, I can disagree with an idea stated by a person whom I've never met. In other words, I can disagree in the absence of relationship. But then I'm not really disagreeing with the person, I'm disagreeing with the idea that they have articulated. That may seem like splitting hairs, but I think there is an important difference.


For example, I read Jonah Golberg's column every time it is published, and I disagree with the ideas he presents almost every time. (btw, why does it shock me to learn that he is just two years older than me?) But I have never met Jonah Goldberg, so the only relationship there is between his ideas as expressed in a short column and my reaction to them. Contrast that to a conversation our Staff/Parish Relations Committee is having about our Youth Ministry. I disagreed with something somebody said should be a goal of the congregation's ministry, and I said so. But because I know and love the person who was saying the thing I was disagreeing with, it was a different situation altogether.

The congregation I serve really knows how to disagree well. You know what I mean? There is respect and grace, even among sometimes diametrically opposed perspectives. After the meeting where we disagreed about the youth ministry, we prayed together, then the people I was disagreeing with and I had a great conversation about the NCAA tournament, shared a few laughs, said good night and went on our way.

And for the most part, there's no bitterness, no lingering animosity, nobody takes personal offense at the disagreement, and everybody pretty much loves each other anyway. Not to imply that the situation is perfect, of course. I know that there is some gossipy crap that goes on with a few people, speaking negatively of others behind their backs and such. But generally we can disagree together, mull it over for a while, have some more conversation, weigh some pros and cons, and then reach a pretty good consensus decision.

(Consensus, by the way, does not mean everyone agrees. Consensus means that even if everyone doesn't agree, everyone will go along with the decision for the good of the whole.)

Having experienced this atmosphere at North KC UMC, I'm wondering: Can we move this model of life together beyond the walls of a local congregation? Can we take this to Annual Conference? How about General Conference? How about ecumenically as the Church universal? How about at a global, inter-faith level even? Whoa - think of the possibilities!

Why is is sometimes so hard to say both "I love you" and "I disagree with you" in the same breath, and be genuinely sincere about both statements?

Does God forget stuff?

“No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.” (Jeremiah 31:34)

Here's a serious Biblical question and I am very interested in any and all responses you might have. When it comes to sin, does God "forgive and forget"? When we are forgiven, does God actually "forget" that we sinned?

Thanks for your help, I'm looking forward to reading your thoughts.


Also posted here.

That's Two!

Two and OH MY! Royals beat Tigers - AGAIN!

No doubt about this one - Shutout! 4-0

What a Day To Be A Royals Fan!

This is the day. This one day. This day after opening day, when we as Kansas City Royals fans can celebrate. A day when Royals fans can say, “We are in first place in the division.” A day when we can say, “We are undefeated.” A day to savor for all that it is worth.

Today we can say, we have beaten the Tigers – the Detroit Tigers, considered by many to be one of the very best teams in all of baseball this year. We beat the Tigers, on the road, on opening day, in extra innings! It really doesn’t get much better than that – especially for Royals fans.

The winning pitcher was Leo Nunez, of all people! (My wife calls him “Little Leo.”) Alex Gordon has one of the sweetest swings – ever. And he absolutely CRUSHED that home run ball; it probably hasn’t come down yet. And Tony Pena Jr., if you can believe it, drove in the winning run in the eleventh inning. Tony freakin’ Pena!

Tomorrow – who knows? I don’t want to think about it. But today, my friends, it is time to celebrate. It is time to party. It is time to feel good in Kansas City! Royals win!

Also posted here.

The Tree Across the Alley

There is a tree just across the alley from my office window. Right now, it is kind of scraggly. The branches are bare of leaves. It is what my mom might describe as “puny,” one of her all-time favorite words. If I were to judge my tree from this distance and in this moment, I might offer a rather mundane assessment. It is a tree that is sublimely unnoticeable.
But I remember that tree last spring and summer. I remember the bright new growth. I remember the full green vitality. The birds who used that tree for a launching pad to my window bird feeder remember, too. The memory of that other time assures me in this moment that something wonderful is about to happen to the tree across the alley.
And when I walk up to that tree and look very closely, I can see the buds forming on the little twiggly branches. I can see the aspect of what will be already present in the fragile new life. When I get in really close so that I can see what’s truly going on, I know that I am just about to witness a miracle on the tree across the alley.
Over the next few weeks, the tree is going to be transformed. No longer the scraggly, puny specimen it is right now, it will bud, then blossom, then come to full, vibrant health. It won’t happen all at once, but moment by moment, inexorably, gradually. By the time I sit here again next month, writing Andy’s Articulation for May, it will seem to be a different tree altogether.

We need to be careful, don’t we, when we might be tempted to make a judgment based on a momentary glance taken from a distance. Before we do so, we need to remember – remember where we have been, the places from where we have come, the experiences we have shared. We need to remember how God has been at work not only in the moment but also through the years, through the generations, in fact, through all time and even beyond. And we need to remember that God will be at work in this world long after we’ve gone.
Before we offer that judgment, we need to look closely – look closely at the variables in the given situation, the people involved, the relationships forming. We need to be as fully engaged as possible in the situation and know as much about it as we can before we make any kind of judgment, one way or the other. I am sure that God is overlooked vastly more often than noticed in the world around us, and I would guess that most often it happens when we are not truly looking closely enough.

Jesus cautioned, “Stop judging by mere appearances, and make a right judgment” (John 7:24, NRSV). If I judge the tree across the alley by “mere appearances,” it’s really not much of a tree. But if I remember and if I look closely, I can make a “right judgment,” knowing that the tree will soon come to life again.
By the way, this works with people, too!

Monday Quiz:

Guess which one is the retired United Methodist Bishop, and which one is the old goat?


(Sorry, sorry, sorry. But it was just too easy to pass up! It's a joke, people. I love you, Daddy Monk. You are my grandfather and I have nothing but respect for you. I sure hope you are chuckling right about now :) )

A New Appointment

Last post: March 12th. Wow. I am a slacker.

But in my own defense, I have had some things on my mind since then. Not an excuse, just an explanation. Ya' see...

In June of this year, the Bryan family will be moving to Springfield, Missouri, where I will be appointed to serve as pastor of Campbell United Methodist Church. The appointment has been announced both at Campbell and here in North Kansas City, so it will be made official at Annual Conference, and the last weekend of June will be our first weekend in Springfield.

When the Ozarks South District Superintendent Kendall Waller told me about Campbell UMC and the particular needs of that congregation, he gave me some time to pray and think about it, and to talk it over with my wife Erin. In this process, I discerned that God is calling me to serve as the pastor there. I said yes to this appointment because Erin and I truly believe that we are being called to Campbell.

Of course, that is not to say that we are eager to leave Northtown – far from it! We love this remarkable congregation, and the last four years together have been filled with love and joy and genuine Christian friendship. I heard someone relatively new to the congregation say recently, “I am constantly amazed at how much you all actually enjoy being together. It’s like you really like each other!” How true that is, and what a wonderful thing to be said of a congregation.

And that’s what the new pastor is going to find here – a remarkable, Christ-centered, people-focused congregation. The new pastor is going to find a congregation who understands its mission to provide a Spiritual Home in which all persons can live and grow in their relationships with God and one another. The new pastor is going to find a vital and vibrant congregation with a lot of momentum and energy, growing both spiritually and numerically, and always ready to reach out and convey the love of Christ in all they say and do.

And so we're leaving a good place - and going to a good place. Campbell UMC is a community of really great people who have been through a lot together. I have already sensed an eagerness and an energy in the people there that promises some pretty good things. God is clearly at work in the community, and we are looking forward to being there and getting to know everybody. I can see nothing but wonderfulness in the future for Campbell!

Itenerant preachers sometimes have to leave a place where things have not gone well - that can be messy. And sometimes we have to go to a place that we are sort of dreading - that can be scary. But how lucky am I, leaving one vital and vibrant congregation and going to another one!

Your prayers during this time of transition will be greatly appreciated.

Young Adults

My brother likes to say that young adults are not a field of sociological study, an observation which is especially true for people who happen to be young adults. For young adults, young adulthood is called life, and the tendency for the church to objectify young adults as a demographic to be analyzed and then "reached out to" seems a completely disconnected and sometimes even insulting endeavor.

I personally am dismayed by the almost desperate tendency to pin the "savior" lable on young adults and so-called "young adult ministries," whatever those are. It sometimes feels like church leaders think that, if we can just get enough people under 30 here, everything's going to be okay. All of the decline in membership and ministry and relevance and all that jazz will just magically go away if we can grab a hold of a few twenty-somethings and bring 'em in. My response, simply put, is that the church's approach to young adults is counterproductive. Let me 'splain:

Let's start with the premise: It seems as though there is an effort to get more young adults into the church by studying ways that the church can reach out to them. Now, do you hear that? The question on the table is how can "we" (the church) get "them" (the young adults) involved with "us" (the church again).

So, what usually happens next is that somebody who thinks they are clever says something pithy like, "The answer is to meet them where they are, not expect them to come to us." Have you heard that one before? But notice the problem with that line of thought is exactly the same problem as before - the artificial separation between "them" and "us" is still there. If "we" are metaphorically going to meet "them" where they are, young adults are still objectified and separated from the church, rather than thought of as the church themselves. This line of thinking says that young adults are a mission field, they are not part of the church.

What would happen if we started with the belief that in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female (i.e. Galatians 3) - and then added to that list OLD nor YOUNG? How would the church engage in ministry differently if we truly believed that and made that idea the foundation for what we do? What if, instead of "bringing them in" or even "meeting them where they are," we just let young adults (ALL adults, in fact) just be who they are and do what they do where they are, and everyone could just be okay with that.

Even my brother misses the mark sometimes. He has this big thing about bringing a rock concert experience into the church worship service. What if, instead of that, we just thought of the rock concert experience itself as worship? What if, instead of trying to find the magic program to install into our church ministry plan to attract young adults, we just gave people permission to rethink what church is all about in the first place?

Young adults, who are the church, could just do what they do, and everyone would be okay with it. Retirees, who are the church, could just do what they do, too, and everyone would be okay with that, too. Youth, who are the church, ... Children, who are the church, .... you get the idea. In fact, young adults and retirees (and youth and children for that matter) might just find themselves doing things together every now and then, and everyone would be okay with that, even.

There is no "them" and "us" - it's all us. Young adults are not the saviors of the church, they are the church, here and now, wherever they happen to be and whatever they happen to be doing.

"Deeply Moved"

Those two words caught my attention in preparing for this week's sermon. "Deeply moved." They are in John 11, the story of Lazarus, and describe how Jesus responds to the situation. John tells us that "he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved." In fact, so profound is Jesus' emotional response that he cannot contain his own tears.

I've been pondering why this incident is recorded. Why does John share this intimate glimpse at the inner emotional life of Jesus in his gospel? I mean, this is the Messiah here! God's anointed. The light of the world come to shine in the darkness and all that. What's he doing crying?

But perhaps the question answers itself. John tells us that he wrote his version of the story down "so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believeing you may have life in his name" (20:31). So John wants us to believe. That's his agenda - to move us from un-belief (maybe dis-belief?) into belief. I don't know about you, but it sure is a lot easier for me to believe in a Messiah who expresses empathy in response human grief than a Messiah who would stand stoically by, unmoved by the pain and suffering of the people he loves.

What was it that moved Jesus to tears? Perhaps is was simply grief for his friend Lazarus; perhaps compassion for the others who were crying all around him; perhaps he was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his mission and frustrated that so many people around him weren't "getting it." After all, the resurrection for which the Jewish people were longing (i.e. Daniel 12:1-2) was no longer a distant, "one of these days" event - it was here and now. "I am the resurrection," he said. Not some abstract teaching about the end of the age, but him. Not just the things he was saying and doing, but him. Embodied. Incarnate.

As Mike said last night at Bible study, "It must have been a lot of pressure to be Jesus."

And so in order to accoomplish his mission, he decided to reveal God's power through the death of Lazarus. He basically allowed Lazarus to die in order to make his point. And how far fetched would it be to think that maybe, upon seeing the grief Lazarus's death caused, he may have had a pang or two of regret? Maybe just for an instant he thought, "Oh God, I hope this is worth it."

The confluence of all of that stuff hit Jesus with a powerful impact. And because he loved deeply, he was deeply moved. And because he was deeply moved, we believe. Even in our human relationships, how much easier is it to be friends with someone who is compassionate and empathetic, as opposed to someone we percieve as cold and aloof?

The story of Jesus' relationship with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus helps me believe, because I see in Jesus' emotional response the love of God as a vital, vibrant, responsive movement to human pain. I guess I would say that this intimate glimpse of Jesus's inner life makes God more real for me, and helps me figure out what it means to love, because God first loved us.

Personal Update

I don’t think I have ever been so sick. Last week I did not come in to the church at all; I turned over the Saturday night worship service to Adam; I spent most of the time in my recliner under a blanket drinking apple juice and blowing my nose.

(By the way, thanks be to God on high for Puffs Plus.)

The nurse at the doctor’s office said that she probably could just photocopy my symptoms and change the name for the few hundred people they had seen with fever, cough, runny nose, and congestion. The worst thing was that my energy level was zero; I just couldn’t do anything. It was a major undertaking to walk across the living room. The doctor said that it probably started out as the flu and then became an upper respiratory infection. The good news is that my lungs were clear – no pneumonia.

Anyway, I’m back at it now. I’m feeling more energy than I have in two weeks, and have been able to come in to the office and get some catching up done. It’s amazing how much work piles up after just a few days out. I have a prescription of antibiotics to take care of the infection, and I’m almost through those, then a follow-up appointment at my doctor on Friday.

Here’s a funny thing: when my doctor was asking me questions to try to figure out how I had gotten sick he said, “So have you spent any time around sick people?” I just kind of smiled at him and said, “I’m a pastor. It’s kind of a part of my job.” And I was very diligent in all my hospital visits to wash my hands in every room, keep my distance from people, all that stuff. So I don’t think I got sick in the hospital; it was just a thing.

But it feels good to be back – I’ll do a “real” post later this week, most likely.