Big Church

Here's some of what I brought home from the conference for first-time pastors of large churches in Houston last weekend. I went in with some preconceived notions, and I came home much more realistic ...

Preconceived notion = in big churches it's all about the money.
Reality = big churches are engaged in some of the most transformative ministry I've seen.

Preconceived notion = all big churches are comprised of conservative evangelicals.
Reality = big churches are wonderfully diverse.

Preconceived notion = there is one right way to organize a big church.
Reality = big churches are just as contextual as small churches.

Preconceived notion = big churches are all contemporary in worship style.
Reality = from high church to rock and roll and everything in between and all around.

Preconceived notion = the bigger the church, the less personal contact between people.
Reality = no matter what size of congregation, human psychology indicates that you will have close associations with about the same number of people. Small groups are the key for any size congregation, once you get past the idea that you have to know everybody.

Preconceived notion = pastors of big churches flash large, impressive numbers to convey "success" in a boastful tone.
Reality = some do, but most are more interested in boasting about the ministries happening, and the people participating in them, using numbers simply to describe them.

Preconceived notion = big churches are more businesslike.
Reality = churches can/should be more churchlike, no matter what size they are.

Preconceived notion = serving a bigger church would be hard for me.
Reality = it is!

Nonetheless, this past weekend liberated me to understand the task in a new way, assuring me that I can do this with my own personality and approach, that I do not have to fit into someone else's mold of "big church pastor" in order to flourish in this role, and encouraging me to claim my identity and my place in the church. I do not have to compromise who I am in order to do this. In fact, I'll undoubtably have more success in this appointment if I don't.

I'm a pastor in a big church, and that's okay with me!

What I Am Learning ...

I am in Houston Texas this weekend, at a conference for pastors who are serving large membership churches for the first time. We are meeting at Memorial Drive UMC, where two of the pastors are leading us through conversations about vision, staff, money, administration, and that kind of stuff.

On my mind a lot is this statement: You are not a pastor any more; you are a leader.

The point being made was that the person-to-person interaction with the congregation is going to be greatly lessened in a large membership church. Rather, more time would be spent in discernment and articulation of the congregation's vision, and nurturing the spiritual health of the staff and other leaders so that they in turn can engage that person-to-person ineraction.

Okay. But I don't know if that means I'm not a pastor anymore. I don't want to be not a pastor anymore. I want to be a pastor in a different congregation, and subsequently change my approach to pastoring. But I'm still going to be a pastor. I think the statement was intended as a rhetorical device to make a larger point, but it kind of ruffled my feathers a bit.

On my mind a lot is this statement, too: When trust is up, speed is up and costs are down. When trust is down, speed is down and costs are up.

Bingo! Almost worth the price of admission in and of itself, this statement is what needs to come from me back to Campbell over the next few months. Trust is very low right now, as is evident in a variety of ways. And guess what? It also takes us a lot of time to get anything done, and it also is very financially tenuous right about now.

And so to become more flexible and to cut our expenses, we have to raise the trust level all around. Which means that I have to model that trust (going to Houston for the weekend and inviting Melissa to take the pulpit) in everything I say and do. It gives me a focus that I think we can latch on to - TRUST. It will come slowly, as all change does in large congregations, but we have to get there.

I have a lot of other thoughts on my mind as a result of this conference, and we still have a day and a half to go! But I have to split now and get over there for worship. More later...

Maverick for President

Apparently now one of the criteria for president is being a maverick. But that is just begging the question, which maverick?


So please cast your vote to the right - and in the comment section below include the rationale behind it. Which maverick would make a better president?

a) Brett Maverick
b) Lt. Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell
c) A Ford Maverick
d) Dirk Nowitzki

Reporter Column

If anybody happens to read the paper version of my latest post that the United Methodist Reporter has reprinted and notices that it begins with a reference to something that happened "last Sunday," rest assured that it did not. It actually happened months ago, in June, and I posted about it then.

I emailed Amy at the Reporter about it, and she changed the online version to "recently" so that's cool, thank you Amy. But the print version is out there, and I just don't want anybody thinking something happened yesterday at church and they missed it!




Update - The Dallas Morning News website has linked to the online version of this UM Reporter column that started out as this blog post. And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Hip - Contemporary - Evangelical = Apparently Not

My stomach hurts. In an article at STLtoday.com, I read this sentence.

Set in a field amongst the St. Charles sprawl, Morning Star Church is part of the United Methodist Church, but it looks and feels more like a hip, contemporary evangelical congregation.

The underlying assumption? That a United Methodist Church couldn't possibly be "hip, contemporary," or "evangelical." It's as if the very idea that a mainline church could be doing something like Morning Star is doing in their worship services was just too mind-boggling for the writer to comprehend.

If you read the whole article, you'll see that it is about a really cool practice they have at Morning Star UMC. People are encouraged to send text messages to the church's cell phone during the sermon. These messages are screened and sent within seconds to the preacher's laptop computer. Mike then reads the questions and addresses some of them in his message. LOVE IT! Completely cool idea!

What makes my stomach hurt is the surprise expressed by the article - as in, "Y'all aren't going to believe this, but this is happening in a United Methodist congregation! Crazy, huh?" Since when is it so shocking that Methodists are evangelical? Arghh!

Is there anyone reading this who is still unconvinced that the public image of the mainline church is very seriously damaged? There are thousands and thousands of people who wouldn't even think of a denominational church as a place where their spiritual thirst might be quenched - not because of any animosity, but just because of simple ambivalence. It's not that they hate the church, it's just that they don't really care about it.

And without seeing the irony, it seems to many of us that the mainline is still doing battle to "win people" into their congregation. I can't even count how many times I've heard someone use the expression "win people for Christ." "Win people"? What? Evangelism isn't a fight anymore. We are not battling for people's souls; their souls are just fine, thank you. It's not really a fight when nobody is fighting against you, it's just a tantrum. You can't "fight against" ambivalence because people who are ambivalent ... um ... are ambivalent! This, incidentally, is another reason that my stomach hurts.

Morningstar UMC's innovations are exciting and definitely will help to convey the gospel in a language in which it can be heard. And in doing so they stand firmly in the Wesleyan evangelical tradition of "becoming more vile" in order to communicate the love and grace of God through Jesus Christ. (That's how John Wesley described the innovation of preaching on the street in his day, btw.)

I long for the day when the fact that a United Methodist Congregation is doing such creative, cool stuff does not result in "Crazy, huh?" but rather "There they go again!"


(btw - if you read the article, be sure to peruse the comments that people have left. There are some pretty interesting critiques of the practice that are worth reading.)

Change Like a Tiger

I root for the Kansas City Chiefs.

HEY - I hear you snickering! Watch it!

Anyway, as I was saying, I root for the Kansas City Chiefs. And they are terrible. The game last week between the Raiders and the Chiefs may have been the ugliest football game I have ever seen. They stink.

But I know them. They are my guys. And I'd rather root for a horrible team that I know than try to find another team to root for that might be better. I could root for a team that would be fun to watch, a team for whom there was a sliver of hope, a team that could run a wider variety of plays than Kansas City, whose offense seems to consist of running Larry Johnson into a huge pile of linemen three times and then punting.

But to do that, I'd have to learn about a-whole-nother team - players, colors, logos, coaches, everything. All of that change and then I wouldn't even be 100% sure that they would win the Superbowl, anyway. So I stick with the hapless Chiefs, who as I have mentioned before, stink.

I wonder if that's what the Hebrew people were feeling when they got hungry in the wilderness and complained to Moses in chapter 17. Their complaint was that in Egypt, at least they had food. But out here in the wilderness, there's just nothing! In other words, they knew Egypt. Bad as it was, at least they knew it. The wilderness was new, and despite Moses' leadership up to this point, they saw no hope that things would get better any time soon.

What's that expression? Better the devil you know...

Now add to this that I also root for the Missouri Tigers. This is also a team that I feel like I know. These are also my guys.

And they pretty much kick butt.

Number one offense in the NCAA, two legit Heisman Trophy candidates, hands-down favorite in the Big 12 North and some say the Big 12 championship game. In the past few years, they have completely transformed their offensive scheme and recruited a ton of really talented players to run it. And I must say that it is a lot more fun to root for a team both that I know and is also really, really good! I'm sure not about to change to rooting for a different college team; it's not even on my mind to do so.

So, speaking of changing the church -

Is there a way that transforming the church can be more of a Missouri Tigers than a Kansas City Chiefs experience?

A lot of people in the church seem to me to be reluctant to change because we prefer the church that we know to the unknown future church that might be. Even if the church we know may be stagnant, irrelevant, lethargic, it is at its core ours - or so we like to think. (Yes, I could drop in an argument at this point that the church is really God's, but for the sake of this discussion bracket that out for the time being.)

But maybe transformation of the church could involve both a sense of hope and also a sense of "ours." To infuse that which we already know with a new energy, to revive that which is familiar, to rejuvenate that which for so long has been obligatory and routine - this is the kind of change that I would like to witness in the church.

The Tigers didn't change their team colors, fire Truman the Tiger, remove the big "M" from behind the north end zone of Faurot Field, stop playing football, scoring touchdowns, making tackles. But the Tigers completely transformed their identity as a football team, which meant they completely transformed the way they play football. So they are still "our team" and also they are exciting to watch.

To be sure, I believe that the church needs to change - or better said, that the church is changing before our very eyes. But I really and truly do not think it has to change to the point where we don't even recognize it anymore. I'm going to root for the church, because it is "my team" and more seriously because I am called by God to serve through the church as a pastor. But I'd rather be rooting for a church that not only is "my team" but also in which I witness a sense of hope, energy, and excitement.

Emptying My Head

It's funny how many things can take priority over writing for my blog. Things like

1) Getting to know a seven year old foster daughter who has been placed in your care,
2) Parenting two sensitve, tender-hearted children into a new school year at a new school in a whole different town,
3) Getting ready to teach 17 of your peers in a brand new, never done that before continuing ed experience,
4) Preparing to lead a Bible study in a congregation that you are still learning about,
5) Day-by-day, moment-to-moment pastoring stuff.

So I haven't written in a week, but that doesn't mean I have't had thoughts, ideas, blog-worthy things popping into my mind. (My friend Dave is always trying to say something "blog-worthy" when we're together, in hopes that I'll include him. Hi, Dave!) Make no mistake, my not posting for a week does not indicate that I have nothing to say. Actually I never have anything to say, and that rarely ever stops me from writing anyway. My mind seems to continual fill and refill with thoughts, 98% of which are completely random and absolutely unhelpful!

When I have other things that crowd out writing time, I can feel it. It's almost like writing out my thoughts for Enter the Rainbow is exercise, and when I don't exercise, I get a bit stiff. Yesterday in fact I was actually grouchy, my thoughts were scattered, and I had a killer headache, and I think it was because I hadn't written in a while. Today is better. Today I have found a moment to write.

And so, my thoughts travel from mind to hand to screen to blogosphere. Catharsis. Release. Ideas no longer contained in my head, but "out there" for all to read. Like I have turned a valve and released pressure, I can feel myself stretching out, warming up, breaking a metaphorical sweat. This post isn't even about anything; it just is. And even so I feel better after writing. Nobody's life will be changed reading this post. And yet I continue to write it, even so.

You want some content? Check out Tony Jones latest about the limits of religion. Or Bill Tammeus writing about how religion can be a downer. Or take a read on what Brad Bryan has to say about the ordination process.

As for me, I'm just writing to empty out my head.

Foster Family Again

Foster care is on my mind this week. Those who read the Rainbow regularly know that we are a foster family, and we see that as a big part of fulfilling our calling. And as of this week we have officially transferred our license to Greene County, having moved here a couple of months ago.

Within hours of having our name "out there" as an available foster care family, we had received two calls. Literally. Less than one day. If that doesn't say something about the need for foster and adoptive families, nothing does. So as of this afternoon, we will be a family of five for a while as we welcome our new foster daughter into our home!

Now along with that, I read a news story within the past couple of days (though now I can't remember where) about a move to try to make adoption and foster care more difficult, if not outlaw it altogether, for single adults. I'm sure I do not need to go into much detail about why I would think this is a colossally stupid idea.

We need MORE foster care, not less. The training for being a foster parent is rigorous - 30 hours of classwork, certification in CPR, first aid, and medication, 15 hours a year of continuing ed to keep up with new trends, not to mention the meticulous requirements of the household itself - insurance, fire escape plan, electrical outlets covered. They even make sure your pet licenses are up to date!

It is already pretty hard to become a foster parent, and by the time you get licensed, married OR single, you have been through a process of discernment and reflection that is designed to make sure both 1) the system wants you and 2) you want to be in the system. The bottom line is, being a foster care family must be a vocation or you won't be able to do it. If it is not truly a life calling, you will be frustrated by it.

Those who would make it impossible for single people to be foster parents are implying that they would rather have kids put into residential facilities than private homes. I have nothing whatsoever against residential facilities, but I cannot see how that would be better for the kid in any way, shape, or form.

Anyway, we are back into the foster family world, after a few months of adjustment as a result of our moving. We ask you all for your prayers and good thoughts sent our direction. And if you are thinking that God might want you to be a foster family, too - give us a call! We'll get you pointed in the right direction to make that happen.

Pastoring Without Preaching

I find myself with a week ahead of me that does not contain within it the expectation of a sermon at the end of it. Rev. Melissa Dodd is preaching Sunday morning, and I will be serving as the worship leader.

And may I just say, "Ahh."

It feels really good to have this week in which maybe 12 - 15 hours of time is freed up by what would have been sermon prep. And now it can be ... well, it can be whatever I want it to be, can't it? Visits, reading, writing, planning, working on Ministers' School, preparing for the PLD class I'm co-teaching, taking communion to some of our homebound folks ... pretty much sky's the limit!

I would not feel this way if not for the presence of my gifted colleague in ministry, Melissa Dodd. I am free to have a week like this because I know that I do not have to worry about this Sunday at all. She is an excellent preacher, engaging and challenging, and I can't wait to hear her preach.

(As an aside, I would be remiss if I did not take this opportunity to wish Melissa a wonderful birthday today. Out of respect for her privacy, I will not share with you all exactly which birthday this is, but there is a zero at the end of it and it is not thirty.)

The other thing that having a week like this does for me is make my own preaching better. I think that he key to better sermons is to preach less often. I heard that years ago at a Ministers' School, and I've never forgotten it. It gives me more time and energy to focus on the sermons I preach, the weekly preparations become less of a grind and the sense of joy is renewed. Plus I have a chance to listen to a good sermon, which fills my soul and stretches me spiritually.

And so ... "ahh" ... I'm ready for a wonderful week of pastoring without preaching.

Pulpit Pounders - 2008 Lineup

I've writte such frivolous, silly posts lately, I thought I would do something a little more serious. Here's the lineup for my 2008 Fantasy Football team - the Pulpit Pounders.

Quarterback - Peyton Manning

Running backs - Marion Barber and Darren McFadden

Wide receivers - Marques Colston, Marvin Harrison, Anquan Boldin


Tight end - Donald Lee

Defense / Special Team - Philadelphia Eagles

Kicker - Adam Vinatieri

With this line-up, I see nothing other than complete domination all season long. Let the pounding begin.

Changing the Tone - a Political Opinion ...

Spoiler alert: I am about to express a political opinion. For those of you who do not feel it is appropriate for pastors to have, or at least to express political opinions, you may want to skip on ahead to another blog. You have been warned ...

I've been watching the political conventions, and all four presidential and vice-presidential candidates say that they want to change our government. They all say, essentially, that the government isn't working like it should and one of the main things they all want to do is change it. McCain's line is "Washington is broken." Obama's line is, "Yes we can."

Additionally, in order to give evidence for the need of change, they all list off many of the same symptoms - high gas prices, the ubiquitous but poignant "single mother" story, unattainable health insurance, the ongoing war in Iraq, jobs being sent to foreign countries, deteriorating relationships with our global partners, and so forth. Both conventions featured litanies that were remarkably similar.

But there is at least one very stark difference between the two campaigns in how they talk about changing things.

Obama says, We are going to change things but they are not. Whereas McCain says, We both are going to change things, but ours will be 'good change' whereas theirs would be 'bad change.' This is a pretty big philosophical difference. I like McCain's approach better, because at least he is acknowledging that Obama has some new ideas. He just doesn't like them. Obama is just saying that McCain just has old ideas, and would offer nothing new. I don't think that's fair.

Actually, what I truly believe is that neither one of them is going to change things all that much. The two-party bureaucracy that is the U.S. federal government is so entrenched, so ingrained, things are going to pretty much function as they have been for a while, and a new president is not going to make that much of a practical, policy level, this-is-how-we-get-things-done kind of way. I mean, the checks and balances of our system of government are there for a reason, right? I remember high school civics class - the president just doesn't have unlimited power.

How the president can change things, in my opinion, is by the tone that is set, the atmosphere in which the government operates. Truly great leaders motivate the people around them by creating an atmosphere of enthusiasm, support, and encouragement. This atmosphere is contrasted with bitterness, selfishness, and just downright meanness that can cripple any environment in which people work together - a business, a church, or a government.

So I'm going to be listening to the two campaigns very closely over the next few weeks, to hear the tone that is being set. Because if they talk about change in a bitter, selfish, and mean tone - that's really no change at all. That's how Washington is now; it's what McCain means when he says it is broken. How ironic it would be if they talked about changing things using the exact same tone that they are trying to change! That just wouldn't work.

But, if they talk about change with enthusiasm, support, encouragement, and (dare I say it without sounding partisan) hope, then they will be modelling the change they would bring. I believe that politicians lead like they campaign, and if you campaign with bitter name calling and mean attacks on your opponents, that's probably how you will lead, too. If you campaign by saying, I'm going to force my agenda through, no matter what others think, that's probably how you will lead, too.

And on the flipside, if you campaign by saying, I'm going to work together with many different people, try to bring together many different sides of every issue for dialogue, and listen to as much information as possible from all sides before making a decision, well that's probably how you will lead as well.

And in my opinion, that would be a pretty good change.

So Barack, John, Sarah, and Joe, if you read this, here's what I want to hear from you. I want to hear respect and hope and open mindedness and willingness to admit you are wrong and the ability to compromise and thoughtfulness and integrity and good humor and humility.

And here's what I don't want to hear from you. I don't want to hear what your oppenent is or is not going to do - I want to hear what YOU are going to do. I don't want to hear about your opponent's experience or lack thereof - I want to hear about YOURS. I don't want to hear any details about your opponent's personal life including their kids, their spouse, their faith, their beverage of choice, and so forth - I want to hear about YOU, as much as you are willing to share.

Don't tell me why I shouldn't vote for the other one, tell me why I should vote for you. Tell me how YOU will change the tone of our government.

Or better yet - show me!

Ritual and Event

In preparing next Sunday's sermon, something caught my attention that hadn't before. In Exodus 12, the description of the Passover ritual precedes the event itself, and then in fact, when the actual events of that night are described, it is with just a few sentences, almost in passing.

There is a huge build up, and then ... fffwwip ... it is gone.

God first describes the ritual to Moses and Aaron - they in turn give that description to the people - and it is reported that "the Israelites went and did just as the LORD had commanded Moses and Aaron." (12:28) The ritual descriptions are elaborate and detailed, and many commentators say they represent fragments of a few different versions of the story. And then the actual enactment of the instructions is only briefly mentioned.

This has made me think about the relationship between ritual and event. In my mind, if a ritual is a prescribed procedure or a specific patterned behavior, an event is just any ol' thing that happens. So a ritual is an event but not every event is a ritual.

Rituals bring the meaning and power of events into the given moment. As Terence Fretheim puts it in the Exodus commentary of Interpretation series, "The reenactment is as much salvific event as the original enactment." So it makes sense that at this point in the Exodus story, the redactor of the book of Exodus is divinely inspired to record this chapter as an ancient worship planner.

So basically Exodus 12 is a set of liturgical instructions for a ritual designed to reenact an event that, in the sequence of the book of Exodus, hasn't happened yet. That in and of itself gives great power and meaning to subsequent reenactments of the event. It is as if the ritual, in a sense, is the event.

This idea gets more wonderful when you think in terms of baptism and holy communion. The baptism ritual is more than empty words and a splash of water. Holy Communion is more than going through the motions of a meal together. Each of these rituals convey power in that they reenact and thus are an event of history brought fully into the present moment, both in rememberance of the past and also in anticipation of the future.

And here's my final thought: we need not equate ritual with rigidity. Ritual is not just a fancy way to say "the way we've always done it." Ritual is alive and moves and changes as we change. Ritual is the structure of life like ice crystals are the structure of a cloud. We need to repeat ritual exactly in order for it to retain it's power. What is important is that it retain it's power, not the form in which that power is conveyed.

I wonder if that's why the Passover ritual has a moment when the children are to ask, "What do you mean by this observance?" (12:26) What a wonderful moment! If you can't answer a child when they ask, "Why are we doing this, again?" you should probably stop doing it. Because then your ritual will have become a rut.

Counting Houses

I am not very naïve. A little bit, probably, but not too much. I know that big-time politicians are rich people, and most have more than one home. So I’m not naïve; I understand how a person who is smart enough, influential enough, and ambitious enough to become a well known politician – say, a U.S. Senator, for example – would naturally end up being pretty rich.

But I am trying really, really hard to get my mind around being so rich that you lose track of how many homes you own. I mean, really? It seems like it would be an easy question, doesn’t it? “How many homes do you own, Senator McCain?” Even just taking a few moments to think about it and then replying would have been better than, “I’ll have my staff get back to you on that.”

So then that adds a layer. I now have to get my mind around being rich enough to have a staff that you could pay to count your homes for you for the purposes of answering the question of how many homes you have. By the way, do you think he asked one person, or did he appoint a task force? Was it, “Hey Joe, do me a favor and count my homes, would ya?”

Like I said, I’m not naïve, so I know that Senator Obama is rich, too. He probably owns a few homes himself. He’s smart, influential, and ambitious enough to be elected Senator and nominated for president, which means he’s probably loaded up a bit of cash along his way.

How out of touch with median-income-$50,000-citizen are you when you actually lose track of how many homes you own, and have to defer the question until your staff can do some fact-checking? In what world must you live, and how in the heck are you going to make sure the working poor can afford health care by the way, when you have to use more than one hand to count your homes?

I’m not saying that being extremely wealthy automatically disqualifies someone from leading the country, either. But it would be nice if someone would remind me of the distinction between a republic and a plutocracy again. The line seems to have grown a bit fuzzy.

Bolt

Usain Bolt is a fast man. He runs faster than any human being alive and for that matter - any human being who has ever lived. He not only won the Olympic sprints, he made the other runners, who also happen to be very, very fast people, look slow.

And not only is Bolt fast, he runs so easily that it actually looks like he's running slow, kind of jogging along. I know he's not, but it just shouldn't look so easy, you know? If he is going to crush the competition into oblivion, at least he should make it look like he's working at it.

Not only is Bolt fast, and not only does he make it look easy, he has a really good time while he's doing it, and it shows. He's out there posing, mugging the camera, dancing, taking off his shoes, messing around with other runners - he's having fun. He's 22 years old, the fastest human on earth, and he's having fun.

Which, apparently, is not okay with the Olympic people. "That's not the way we perceive being a champion," said Jacques Rogge, the International Olympic Committee president, and confirmed stick in the mud. It seems Bolt's behavior might be perceived as disrespectful to the other runners, and not fitting for an Olympic champion.

Never mind the thousands of people screaming their lungs out in the bird's nest for him

or the other runners obvious admiration for his accomplishment, saying things like, "I love watching him when he does his thing" and calling him names like "Superman 2."

But the sight of a young man thumping on his chest and throwing out his arms at the end of a race is just too much for the IOC, or at least for its president. He said, "He might have interpreted that in another way, but the way it was perceived was 'catch me if you can.' You don't do that. But he'll learn. He's still a young man."

I think it's that "You don't do that" line that gets under my skin. Because when Rogge says "you don't do that" of course what he means is "I don't do that." Obviously, Usain Bolt does do that, and Rogge just thinks it is somehow not reflective of the Olympic attitude or something.

And because "he's still a young man" that means obviously he just doesn't know what's appropriate. The corollary being, if he were older he would therefore know what was appropriate and then act ... well, ... appropriately. But it doesn't cross Rogge's mind that Bolt might, in fact, know exactly what Rogge thinks would be appropriate and has another idea altogether about what "appropriate" really is.

AS USUAL, I see something here that the church might learn. (You knew I'd get to it eventually, didn't you?)

Here's the question: How often do church people say "You don't do that in church" when what they really mean is "I don't do that in church"?

And further, how much do church people say, "The young people might be a bit ... 'energetic' ... now, but they're young and they'll learn how to act more appropriately when they grow up" or something along those lines? As if being energetic in church is something we should grow out of over time.

MAYBE, JUST MAYBE the people in church who are doing things differently know exactly what all those "church people" think would be more appropriate, and have their own ideas about what makes something appropriate.

And maybe, just maybe, we shouldn't expect the young people in our churches to one day grow up to be just like all us old folks. Maybe we should just let everybody be who we are and figure out how to be okay with that.

Usain Bolt says, "I do not compare myself to other people, I am just trying to be myself." And I for one love watching him be who he is.

Update: Pink hair in Springfield schools: Disruptive? Apparently, "You don't do that" also applies to hair coloring. I hope Springfield School administrators are rooting out all those teachers who are hiding their grey!

Blog Post In Print

Hey - what do you know? My"Distinctly Methodist" post has been picked up and published by the United Methodist Reporter.

click here

Yikes!

Vacations are Fun

Two week vacations are good things! I highly recommend them. Here was ours:

Chapter one: Springfield, Mo.
- Springfield Cardinals game, Silver Dollar City, Discovery Center, Dickerson Park Zoo









Chapter two: Osage Beach, Mo.- Swimming in the lake, Swimming in the pool, Hiking at Ha-Ha Tonka State Park, more swimming in both lake and pool, mini-golf at Pirate's Cove, general hanging out and being lazy, watching the opening ceremony of the Olympics, and did I mention there was swimming?













Interlude: Columbia, Mo.
- Getting together with Bryan family, worship together at Missouri United Methodist Church, singing with my wife and kids, baptism of nephew Braeden, hearing my brother Brad preach.









Chapter three: Trout Lodge (YMCA of the Ozarks)
- Three-plus days of family reunion with Bryans from Dallas, TX; Valencia, Spain; Frankfurt, Germany; Stoughton, WI; Milwaukee, WI; Vancouver, British Columbia; Columbia, MO; Kansas City, MO; St. Joseph, MO; and Springfield, MO. (Did I forget anyone?)
- More swimming, paddle boats, canoes, rope swing, water slide, mini-golf, hiking, horses, hay ride, barn dance, camp fire, zip line, frisbee, washers, ladder golf, Elephant Rocks State Park, and general hanging out and relaxing - it was truly wonderful!



And now we are back in Springfield, ready to get rolling again. The kids have a week until school starts, and so that's on our minds. We're getting our house ready to receive foster kids, maybe in a month or so. We're enjoying the last few days of summer with sunny skies and delightful, air-conditioner-free temperatures. And we're starting a series on the book of Exodus at church, plus getting things set to go for fall programming.

Oh, yeah, one more thing - we are completely addicted to the Olympics, as a lot of people are. Go world!

A Little Tony J Love

Tony Jones, who is coming to Missouri Ministers' School in January, is currently doing what he is calling the Church Basement Roadshow.

Take a look at it - click here.

On the website, the Roadshow is identified as "A Rollin' Gospel Revival is rumbling across the U.S. this summer, bringing good fun and good news to anyone who will listen."

I gotta tell you, watching this video, reading his book, and keeping track of his blog, I am more and more excited about his presence at Ministers' School this year. And I confess that I love seeing "Missouri Ministers' School" listed on his speaking schedule!

It may sound a bit like I have a little bit of a clergy-crush on Tony, a guy I've never met but only communicated with via email. Maybe a little bit, ... yeah, I guess I do. But he writes things like this:

...for this group, the message of the gospel is unchanging - it's been figured out, once and for all, never to be reconsidered.
But to another group, the methods and the message of Christianity are bound to be reconceived over time. Indeed, if one changes the methods, one will inevitably change the message.
Another way of saying this is that the Christian gospel is always enculturated, always articulated by a certain people in a certain time and place. To try to freeze one particular articulation of the gospel, to make it timeless and universally applicable, actually does an injustice to the gospel. (New Christians, p. 96)

We could spend all three days of Ministers' School talking about this one idea (and I am hopeful that we will!). What's the difference between saying "the Christian gospel is always enculturated" and "the Christian gospel has been co-opted by culture"? And whose culture are we talking about, by the way? Suburban middle class? Rural poor? Urban inner city? And so forth ... ?

Anyway, I'm really excited about meeting and working with Tony, and I'm hoping the 2009 Ministers' School turns out to be a pretty cool event.

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.