Answers To My Bishop Question

Last weekend I was a part of a set of interviews in which our Jurisdictional Conference delegation was asking questions of the candidates for bishop. When I asked my question, the responses fell into 3 categories.

The question was something like, “Considering the new and always emerging ways that people connect these days - new communication tools, social networking, online relationships, etc. - is the way that people think about ‘church’ being transformed? And will the metrics we use to assess congregational vitality be transformed as a result?”

Category 1 was basically:
Yes. I get it. The world is changing, relationships are changing, the definition of community is changing, and the church needs to recognize and be a part of that change. In fact, here are a few ways that I myself have transformed my own communication …

Category 2 was basically:
Yes. I hear that it is, but I don’t really get it. My kids do it, but I haven’t really gotten into it. I think the church should do some stuff too, but I really don’t know what that might be.

And category 3 was basically:
Yes. And isn’t it a shame. It’s a good thing the church can still be there to offer people a “real” relationship,” considering all the pretend ones they have on their computers and such.

You realize that I am paraphrasing, of course. None of the candidates is quoted, except the phrase “real relationship.” But my paraphrases represent a summary of what I heard in the interviews, and clearly include my bias. You probably also realize that the people who answered in a “category 1” kind of answer are the ones that I would tend to support.

I think some may dismiss the question as just a technology question. It is not. The development of technology vs. the transformation of community is kind of a “chicken and egg” kind of question. Technology changes as community is transformed; community is transformed as technology changes.

And as more and more people redefine community through a whole host of new technologies, the question is not whether the church should change, too. The question is how.

The Annual Conference as "Google"

In our episcopal interviews, one of our scripted “first three” questions was about Annual Conference structure. The core of the question was: What is the ideal Annual Conference structure?

For me the answer is simple - Google.

Google is a noun. It is the name of a website through which people can access a seemingly unlimited amount of information on just about anything they want to know about.

But google has become a verb. It means “what you do in order to access that information.” If you don’t know something and you want to know it, you just google it.

Whereas “google” is a noun that has been verbified, it feels like the word “conference” is a United Methodist verb that has been nounified.

Conference is actually a verb, in the Methodist lingo. In one sense, it means “google,” what we do in order to access information, resources, equipment for ministry.

But it seems “conference” has become only a noun, it means the group of people itself, or even the meeting of this group of people. I’d like for it to be verbified again.

The United Methodist Church is uniquely structured to resonate with the way people connect with each other. We even call ourselves a “connection,” or a “connexion,” if you prefer the British version. In order to realized the potential of that connection, we need to verbify the conference.

Not sure what resource to use for VBS this year? Conference it.

Need an idea for a new worship song on the theme of hospitality? You could conference it.

Need an architectural concept to make your building more hospitable? Hey, why not conference it.

And as other needs emerge, they could be conferenced in order to crowdsource potential solutions.

The sole mission of the conference staff would be gathering and updating and providing access to ideas, resources, and guidance. Conferencing would connect congregations in ways that multiply their impact on communities. Conferencing would equip congregations to change people’s lives in ways they would not necessarily be able to do alone.

And we are already basically structured to operate this way, which is pretty cool. We are not a congregationally based system (and I hope we never are). We are a connectional system, but the problem is that we have nounified it, and in doing so our structure has become burdensome.

I envision a denomination that is a robust yet flexible network of congregations that transcends the regional thinking by which we are still geographically imprisoned. The Conference App on your smart phone would be the portal through which every Methodist around the world could access the connection with all of its resources for mission and ministry.

Just Conference it.

Structure But No Life (A Long, Churchy Post)

God breathed the breath of life into Adam’s nostrils.

Ezekiel prophesied to the breath to bring life to the dry bones.

Jesus breathed on his disciples and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

In each of the three scriptural moments above, there is structure but no life. In Genesis 2, a man has been formed out of the dust of the earth, but has yet to live. In Ezekiel 37, the bones have been knit together with tissue and flesh, but they were not yet alive. In John 20, the group of disciples was together, but was not empowered to go and share the Gospel.

Structure but no life.

That kind of sounds like John Wesley’s motivation for what he did, doesn’t it? In his beloved church, he saw structure but no life. His desire was to breathe life into the Church of England, not to separate from it. By creating Methodist societies within the Church, Wesley hoped to revitalize the faith of the people while remaining a part of the structure that he so respected.

Working within that structure, he nevertheless pushed right up to the edge of it. In many minds, he transgressed the boundary. Eventually those who comprised the structure would not allow him to continue within it. The momentum of the Methodist movement carried it out of the Church of England and it flourished on its own.

Come to think of it, “structure but no life” is how many would describe the United Methodist Church of 2012, also. And in many ways, the “Call to Action” and the “Plan B” recommendations that will be considered by this year’s United Methodist General Conference are an attempt to breathe life into an old, top-heavy structure.

But the present recommendations differ from Wesley’s movement in two significant ways. First, Wesley worked from the ground up, and these recommendations are being made from the top down (a General Conference decision being the “top” and implementation in local churches the “down”). Secondly (and significantly), Wesley was responding to a powerful new spiritual movement taking place, and the present proposals are responding to a declining denomination.

Wesley created technical changes (societies, bands, classes) that resonated with the immense adaptive change that was taking place all around him (the “First Great Awakening”). Starting small, the movement expanded up and out, and ultimately “outgrew” the Church of England.

Wesley was brilliant. He discerned the historical moment and realized the church structure of his day was insufficient to contain it, and in his wisdom and immense capacity for detail, caught the leading edge of the wave, dramatically transforming the way people of his day did church.

I am not opposed to the Call to Action recommendations. Not at all. Let’s do it; make the changes and see how they fly.

What bugs me, though, is that we are making all these technical changes that are motivated by the decline of our denomination, and we are pretending that they are actually adaptive changes that are going to transform the culture in our congregations. They aren’t adaptive changes, in my opinion. They may be changes that are intended to bring about adaptive change, but the proposals as listed and discussed are technical changes.

The reason that this bugs me is that I think we are missing the actual adaptive changes that are already happening all around us. There is a significant spiritual movement taking place in the world, and we are already too late to catch the leading edge of it, as Wesley did so long ago. The best we can hope for at this point is to jump into it in the middle somewhere.

The technical changes the denomination needs to address are related to the tools we use to assess congregational vitality. For example, we are still trying to get our heads around the impact that new means of communication, social media, and other online interaction is having on the way people connect faith and life.

A person can watch their congregation’s worship service live online from just about any place in the world. Instant, hand-held access to more information than a person could ever hope to process has forever transformed how we learn, including how we learn about God. Facebook alone has fundamentally altered the way people feel about how well we know one another. Awareness of injustice is instantaneously Tweeted to millions whose resources can be mobilized to respond in just days, if not hours.

How do we assess congregational fruitfulness in a world that looks so different than it did 20 years ago? (Even 10, even 5 …)

This is the pressing technical question for our denomination, as I see it. But I believe the United Methodist Church needs to undergo some deep adaptive changes, as well.

The adaptive changes that need to be made in the United Methodist Church, in my opinion, are theological. Stated simply (and borrowing a term), we must immediately purge the “moralistic therapeutic deism” that pervades the church and allow the mystery of the triune God to empower us to realize the reign of God on earth by fully patterning our lives after the life of Christ, however that may look. I could go on and on about this, but that is going to have to be content for another post.

This is a long one. If you are still reading by this point, an extra gold star for you! I want to make clear that I am not opposed to change, I do not fear change, this is not an anti-change thing. I say let’s give the “Call to Action” recommendations a go, and see what happens.

All I’m saying is I want answers to questions like, “Our congregation’s Facebook group has 211 ‘likes’ and last week it had 209. Is that fruitful?”

A United Methodist "Buffet Effect"?

So what would it be like if “the Buffet effect” swept through the church?

Wouldn’t the clergy equivalent of Betty White be a hoot in the pulpit every week?

Who is the Paul McCartney of pastors, still innovating as he approaches age 70?

The United Methodist Church, like so much of culture, has become youth-obsessed. In our panic to save the denomination, we have objectified young people as a “target demographic” that, if sufficiently engaged, will swoop into our churches and save us from oblivion.

I understand all the stats - our congregations are decades older than the communities around them; we’re just a couple generations away from extinction; the structures, styles, and systems we utilize are archaic - I understand the reasons for the panic. I respect the work that Lovett Weems and others have done about the age trends in our denomination.

But we have overcompensated, I think. We have negated much of what is good about being Methodist, while doing very little that actually means anything to younger people. In fact, the church’s sudden discovery of young people and subsequent obsession with them is kind of freaking people out.

Kenda Creasy Dean says it better than anyone: “To treat adolescents as a separate species instead of as less experienced members of our own was one of the twentieth century’s largest category errors. Teenagers, obviously, are people too, and youth ministry is as much about being the church as it is about working with adolescents.” (Almost Christian : What the Faith of Our Teenagers is Telling the American Church - p. 24)

And a sorry side effect of treating young people as separate from “us” is the perception that older people just don’t matter any more. Ministry is “about being the church” for youth, young adults, middling adults, and the really old ones, as well. And if there’s a place to point in order to explain the decline of the church it is at our ineptitude at “being the church” - period.

As Diana Butler Bass puts it, “Between business-as-usual church, internal stresses, external scandals, and rank hypocrisy, finally compounded by economic crisis, American Christianity is in a mess.” (Christianity After Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening - p. 83)

The point is, of course the situation is driving young people away. That’s because it is driving everyone away.

You want to get young people to come back to church? Be a better church.

Which brings me back to my initial thought - Where are our pastoral Warren Buffets, Betty Whites, and Paul McCartneys? What are they doing? Are we relegating them to museum display identities that we smile at and applaud, but don’t really listen to?

Or are we engaging the wisdom, passion, and experience of such as these to provide vision, purpose, and integrity so that we can be as good a church as we possibly can?

Obviously, there is a lot of room for mulling over these questions. I am still in mid-mull myself. But I read two articles almost back to back this morning that started this mull, and I encourage you to give them a read also.

This one was a business piece in Newsweek. (Where the term "Buffet Effect" came from.)

This one was a column on the UMPortal.

I’m eager to read your mulling ... let's mull together!

Jesus is Overturning Tables Again

As John tells it, the cleansing of the Temple is a story about how people tend to create rules for how to do something, and then allow the rules to become more important than the something they were intended to do.

John omits the phrase “den of thieves” from his version of the story, and John never does anything by accident. Every word counts. “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” (NRSV) This marketplace was a house of commerce in which the transactions necessary to worship according to the rules of the Temple were accomplished.

The rules were there, in scripture. Following the rules was equivalent to being faithful. The system very well may have been corrupted, as Matthew, Mark, and Luke seem to indicate with their “den of thieves” quip. But John isn’t focused there. He is focused on the rules themselves, rules which have taken priority over the very thing they were intended to facilitate, namely an encounter with the Divine.

We miss the point when we think this story is about selling stuff in church. It’s way more than that. This story is about how the church tends to allow the rules (or norms, or customs, or standards, or …) to become a higher priority than encountering God.

Every church has rules. They are rarely explicit.

In some churches…
- Young people must act like older people.
- Hair must not be a peculiar color or shape.
- Only ears may be pierced, only on women, and only one time each.
- Gay couples must not hold hands.
- Clothing must not reveal too much skin.
- The skin that is revealed must not be inked.
- Scruffy looking clothing will not be tolerated.

And in some churches …
- Old people are just awful.
- “Traditional” sucks.
- Suits and ties are stuffy, and people who wear them are automatically hypocrites.
- Un-inked, un-pierced, un-dyed = loser.
- All gay people are liberals.
- It has to be loud to be worship.
- Scruffy looking clothing is cool, but only the expensive scruffy looking clothing that is designed that way and supposed to look scruffy in order to make a statement.

I hope that you read the above lists with a sense of tongue-in-cheek, and don’t take offense at either one. And please, I know that the temptation will be to do the whole “not in MY church” thing. Right, okay - go ahead and get that out of your system.

My point is simply to say that there are “rules” in every church (as well as in every neighborhood, in every office, in every town, etc.). And those rules are there in order to serve a greater purpose. And people will gradually but inevitably forget the greater purpose and just follow the rules.

Which is exactly what was happening in the Temple, and what John wanted to illuminate in the way he told the cleansing story.

So, the cleansing of the Temple wasn’t just to get rid of the “bad” stuff, it was to get rid of everything that had be prioritized ahead of God, good AND bad.

There is more going on spiritually in the world today than just the stuff contained in the specific, superficial lists of rules I poked at earlier. There are deeper and more profound shifts happening when it comes to the way people encounter God these days. Authors like Diana Butler Bass, Brian McClaren, and Phyllis Tickle (among others) have taken note and written about it.

Old rules are being challenged, though these rules are broader, and more difficult to extract.

Here’s a pretty simple example:
- A person has to become a member of a congregation in order to follow Jesus.
The category of “member” is in such a state of flux right now that it is nearly unrecognizable by the older standards. Being a member of Sam’s Club often has more meaning for people than being a member of a congregation.

Here’s one:
- People have to attend worship every week in order to feel connected to a congregation.
It does not seem to diminish one’s feeling of connectedness in the slightest to be only infrequently face-to-face with others in the congregation, and with God for that matter. Online social networks and new digital communication tools have altered forever the ways we connect.

And how about this one:
- Never borrow anything, beliefs or practices or anything, from non-Christian religious traditions.
Post-modernity has flattened the earth and made us aware of our global community in unprecedented ways. We (meaning people all around the world) routinely adopt that which seems helpful from other cultures and traditions into our own. Yoga, anyone?

Remember, Jesus wasn’t overturning the tables because the tables were inherently bad. He was overturning them because they had become more important than God. So the spiritual shifts taking place in our world today, call it a “Great Emergence” or another “Great Awakening” or “A New Kind of Christianity” or something else, are not taking place because the old way is bad.

They are taking place because Jesus is overturning tables again.

Therefore, nobody needs feel threatened by these shifts. Nobody needs to panic. And definitely nobody needs to figure out ways to make the old rules fit into the new reality. They don’t. They won’t. Ever again.

There will be congregations that will cease to be. There will be denominations that will simply dissolve. 80 years from now “church” will be unrecognizable by today’s standards. And I for one see that as a wonderful, miraculous, God-inspired and Spirit-led possibility.

The Call to Action in the UMC - My thoughts

The United Methodist Church is preparing for our 2012 General Conference, at which delegates will vote on the proposals contained in the “Call to Action.” There are some specific changes being proposed, which you can read about at the Call to Action website.

I have a couple of questions. First one: Who is against these proposals? Is there any organized opposition to them, anywhere? I have read a couple of articles that expressed disappointment with the lack of young adult representation in the process and one or two that express the thought that this is a “power grab” by the Council of Bishops. But is there a group actively mobilizing to lobby General Conference delegates to vote down these proposals?

If so, please illuminate me, because I am unaware of them.

If not, then who in the world are we trying to convince with all the hub-bub about the changes? Why all the talk about “there’s no need to fear change” and “we’ve got to take some risks” and “sometimes change hurts” and so forth? Who exactly needs convincing? The denomination doth protest too much, methinks.

My second question: Why have we framed the Call to Action recommendations as necessary to save the United Methodist Church from dying? As I see it, the Call to Action recommendations are necessary, but not to save the denomination. What is recommended is necessary for no less than being faithful to what it means to be the church of Jesus Christ in the world today.

Now, if we revitalize congregations in the way that the Call to Action predicts, one of the attractive side effects may be that the United Methodist Church ceases withering away. But surely that’s not our goal, is it? I love the United Methodist Church as much as any seventh generation ordained Methodist preacher does, but my goal is not the survival of my beloved denomination.

My goal is to share the love of Jesus Christ with others so that that the world is completely transformed into the realization of the reign of God, and to inspire others to do so, as well. If the United Methodist Church survives that transformation process … bonus!

All of the language about what motivated the Call to Action’s proposed changes is great. Stuff like … creating vital congregations … a more nimble infrastructure … clarity of mission …hopefulness for the future … and so on. Everything Bishop Schnase (aka Bish Schnay-Z) writes about in his article on the subject.

But I’ll be hesitant to do any of that stuff if the goal is to save the denomination. Why can’t we just leave saving the denomination out of the picture?

Again, to be clear, I believe that if we do what the Call to Action recommends, we actually may end up saving the denomination. But that will be because our denomination is being as faithful an expression of church as it can be, not because our attempts to save our institution have been successful.

Actually I have a specific critique of the Call to Action recommendations. My biggest concern is that we do not have a consensus definition for pastoral effectiveness. I do not see how we possibly could. It will be a subjective call, no matter how you slice it.

I might think that I’m not effective because I’m not seeing worship attendance increase dramatically, while someone else might think I am being effective because there have been more than 50 professions of faith over the past two years. But still another person may think that 50 professions of faith is not effective, thinking that it comes nowhere close to the potential in our community.

What’s left is a subjective decision - which, by the way, I trust completely. I am Methodist, an itinerant preacher, and I will go where I am sent - even if that is into another occupation. But there’s no getting around the fact that pastoral effectiveness is ultimately a subjective decision. Let’s just be honest about that and proceed.

I hope the Call to Action recommendations pass General Conference, and revitalized, vibrant congregations become the norm rather than the exception. I too see a new church in the future, and am very hopeful about what God is up to these days. I just want us to stop lamenting dying churches and dying conferences and dying denominations, and start remembering what we are supposed to be about.

If we do, we may very well find that we actually have nothing to lament, and everything to celebrate!

Online Communication - What "counts"?

Facebook has changed the way people communicate. At Campbell, we have guidelines for how staff relates with people online, similar to the United Methodist “Safe Sanctuaries” guidelines for face-to-face communication.

Because the landscape is always changing, we are continually discussing the implications of new means of communication. So, it is not a static policy; it must remain fluid in order to respond to rapid changes in the virtual world.

Our latest conversation pertains to notifying “the church” when someone has a need (an illness, surgery, the death of a loved one, etc.). Put rather crassly, the question is what should “count” for notifying the church.

If a staff member happens to read an update on someone’s timeline that says, “Surgery set for tomorrow,” or something similar, does that indicate that the person wants a pastor to show up for prayer and so the staff member should contact a pastor to make sure that happens?

If a pastor reads someone’s tweet indicating a need, but does not respond, is that a failure of pastoral obligation? What if a pastor reads the tweet and DOES respond, but the individual didn’t actually want a personal response?

Currently, we have the guideline that a Facebook post (or a Tweet, or any online posting) does not constitute an “official contact.” A phone call, email, or text message does. The reasoning is that those three are directed communications, rather than public announcements. As such, we do not do a pastoral visit for something we only learn about online.

On the flipside, someone on staff may contact a person individually to respond to something learned online, and in that conversation the staff member needs to ask, “Would you like this concern included in the prayer list?” and/or “Would you like a pastor to visit?” and/or “Could we arrange some meals for you while you recover?” or something like that, depending on the situation. Then, the church responds “officially” to the need.

Even as I re-read that paragraph, it sounds silly. But it is where we are at the moment. And so we’d like some input. What are your thoughts on these questions? And what guidelines, if any, does your church follow regarding social network posts? What should those guidelines be?

Thanks in advance for your comments!

Oh, Church!

The latest religious trend seems to go like this.

Step 1 - Have a negative experience or experiences with a person or a group of people who happen to be Christian.

Step 2 - Universalize that experience.

Step 3 - Create a definition of “church” that depends only on that universalized negative experience.

Step 4 - Mercilessly attack the definition of church that you just created.

Step 5 - Construct a new (and groovier) definition of church that you are okay with.

Step 6 - Never, ever call that new definition “church” or anything sounding even remotely religious.

Step 7 - Post it online.

Hypocrisy, greed, selfishness, prejudice, hatefulness, anti-intellectualism, and all the rest of the things that comprise “step 1” in this process are bad things, and rightly to be criticized. I have done my fair share of leveling criticism against these things, inside the church as well as out. Judeo-Christian history is replete with prophetic voices who call people of faith to repent and reform.

But to “hate the church” as a result? Sorry, but we wouldn’t even know who Jesus is except for the church. There is no organization in the world that has done as much good in as many places as the church. It is through the church that God’s love has been offered, grace extended, justice sought, forgiveness invited, and so on and so on … for generation upon generation, hundreds and hundreds of years before our time.

There are people within the church who are hypocrites. Indeed. There are people within the church who are suspicious of science. Yep. And selfish ones and homophobic ones and greedy ones and hateful ones and all the rest.

And you know what? There always have been. History is also replete with people such as these. And more than likely, there always will be. Our unwritten future history will be, alas, similarly imperfect.

Call for reform. Point out the hypocrisy. Confront the hatred. By all means speak up in the presence of injustice, oppression, and hatred. Name it, point to it, and do what you can to make sure it never happens again.

The church has a word for those things: “sin.”

The church also has a message to deliver in response to those things: “grace.”

As it turns out, the church also has a command to guide what happens next: “Go and sin no more.”

And the guy who said that originally, the one whose body in the world today is called the “church,” that guy Jesus, God incarnate, you know the one? Well I happen to love that guy a whole lot. And I happen to love the church, too - fallible, messy, ugly, beautiful, complicated, perfect, flawed, chaotic, diverse, one, holy, universal, apostolic - the church.

I do not begrudge anyone a new expression of church. Actually, I love new expressions of church! Always reforming, always contextualized, always adapting, always creating; the church has been expressing herself in new and wonderful ways for a couple thousand years now and that’s great. So that’s not my point.

My point is this: Please don’t condemn such a broad and diverse group because you have had bad experiences with some people within that group. Do your thing. Love Jesus in the way that makes sense to you. Create your church, by all means. But don’t insult the rest of us by saying that what you are doing isn’t church. Of course it is. It’s just your expression of it.

I love Jesus. I love the church. And I hope that you do, too.

The Mystery of Death

I have prayed the prayer
literally hundreds of times
and I will pray it hundreds more.

“Give to us now your grace, that as
we shrink before the mystery of death,
we may see the light of eternity.”

We shrink.
Before the mystery.
Of death.

We shrink. God grows.

We are finite.
God is eternal.

Is it only as we shrink
that we gain the perspective
which allows us to see
the flicker of eternal light?

We shrink. The mystery.
Death.

Thoughts on the Payday Loan Ballot Initiative

I just sent the following letter to the Springfield News-Leader:


"I am hopeful that Missourians will learn as much as possible about the "payday loan issue" currently in discussion in many venues around our state. There are valid points to consider on all sides of the issue, and it is important that we give full consideration to the question.

"I believe that I have heard and fully understand the opposition’s point of view, and I remain convinced that 400% interest rates are too high. Simply put, there is no compelling case to be made that charging a struggling family 400% interest (and even higher at times) should be legal. It is time for Missouri to cap those rates.

"Businesses that practice ethical lending need not fear the proposed cap. It does nothing to limit competition among lenders. In fact, it makes the competitive playing field level in that Missouri would no longer be inundated with predatory lenders, and ethical lending companies would therefore have an equal opportunity to do business.

"Most convincing for me is the damage done to families caught up in the cycle of debt, exacerbated by the practices of lending companies that charge triple digit interest rates. The hopelessness in the eyes of parents who literally fear for the health of their children can be quite compelling.

"Please learn as much as possible about this issue, and make an informed choice. Not to decide is a decision in favor of the status quo. And I truly believe the status quo is unjust and must be changed."


I hope that you might visit these sites:

Missourians for Responsible Lending website and Facebook page.

The ballot initiaive summary is here and the full text is here.

Thanks!

Correction: It's WAY Worse Than That

I made a mistake in last Sunday’s sermon. (My only one of the year, of course.)

In making a point about how we are often overwhelmed by all that is “wrong” with the world, I drew an analogy from the category of “sports” - kind of “current events,” too. I mentioned the newly signed contract between one Mr. Albert Pujols and the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, which for some reason is on everyone’s minds around here these days.

Turns out my calculations were off. Way off!

Allow me to clarify.

According to the whiz-bang mathematical minds of the Campbell UMC staff, Pujols’ salary breaks down thusly:

+ $254 million over 10 years
+ $25.4 million per year
+ MINUS 45% for taxes and agent fees
+ $13,970,000 per year
+ 162 games in the regular season
+ $86,234.57 per game
+ 4 at bats per game
+ $21,558.64 per at bat

For further review:
(if only 3 at bats, he’ll earn $28,744.86 per at bat)
(if out of the lineup, he’ll earn $9,581.62 for every inning he warms the bench)

So, my figure yesterday was far, far too low.

The figure from Sunday’s sermon that IS accurate, though, is that it takes $300 per year to send a child to secondary school in Kenya, and a part of what the New Hope Initiative is trying to do is send kids from the Kibera slum in Nairobi on to get their secondary education with full scholarships, provided they pass the entrance exams.

And so, every time Albert Pujols comes to the plate next season, 71 children could receive these scholarships with the money he makes.

Seventy-one. With some spare change. Even if he strikes out.

Please understand that I am not bashing Albert Pujols personally. I’m sure he’s a very nice man. The intent is to point out just how out of whack our societal priorities are these days.

When the education of 71 kids living in one of the world’s biggest slums is equal to one single at bat of a Major League Baseball player, we have a problem. A global problem. A theological problem.

He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty. (Luke 1:53)

So somebody tell me, how are we supposed to make sense of all this?

A Safe Season?

Have we made Christmas too safe?

That’s what I’ve been wondering this season. Has Christmas become a predictable mish-mash of traditions that have been separated from the earth-shattering power of the incarnation?I’m not bashing Christmas traditions, you realize. When it comes to Christmas traditions, I’m all in favor.

My family dives into Christmas traditions – the tree, the lights, the nativity sets, special dinner, family time – the works! So I’m not belittling these things at all.

I’m just wondering, is it all too safe? And what do I even mean by safe?

Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not entirely sure. I’m just reading the words of the prophets and noticing some fairly cataclysmic language. The heavens being torn open, the mountains quaking, the nations trembling, valleys being lifted up, mountains being made low, and that kind of stuff.

Earth shattering. Powerful. Transformative.

If by “safe” we mean innocuous, secure from risk, stable … well, the only thing “stable” about Christmas was the place Jesus was born.

The birth of Jesus changed everything.

God. Became. Human.

The thought should stagger you. The first inkling of understanding as to what the incarnation truly means should feel like a bolt of lightning electrifying your soul. The sheer power of Christmas scatters the proud, brings down the powerful, lifts up the lowly, fills the hungry, and empties the rich, as Mary sings in Luke 1.

Have we somehow hidden that behind a big inflatable lawn Santa that plays “You Better Watch Out” over and over again? Are we so blinded by the glare of strings of computer programmed LED strings that we can’t see the light of the world any more? Is the Trans-Siberian Orchestra drowning out the sound of the voice of Zion up on the mountain announcing the presence of God?

This Christmas, don’t be safe. Take a risk. Do something you’ve never done before, for the sake of Jesus. Honor the birth of Christ by continuing the mission he inaugurated.

This Christmas, change the world.

(This is my offering for this year's Advent Devotion book published by Campbell UMC. The devotion book is online again this year, and can be accessed and subscribed to by clicking right here.)

For the Sake of the Mission - Follow-up

In his comment on my last post, Bob wrote:

“I can appreciate your position, but what good is a religion that tosses aside beliefs to accomplish their mission. If we believe something is wrong it doesn't give us license to be hateful but we certainly ought not condone sinful actions.”

These are great observations. I agree that a religion’s beliefs shouldn’t be thoughtlessly tossed aside, and I agree that religions should not condone sin. I overlook neither of these things.

For me, Bob’s comment illuminates a deeper question - just what is “religion,” anyway? A set of beliefs? An institution? A set of practices? A relationship with God? Some combination thereof?

I define religion at its heart as a relationship with God. And the mission, expressed many different ways, is to offer that relationship to people. In other words, the beliefs and practices of a religion ought to nurture that relationship. The beliefs and practices are subordinate to the relationship. And so when beliefs and practices make that relationship more difficult they need reformation.

This has been the church’s pattern for generations. We have continually been trying to figure out what, exactly, we believe. And not just on “non-essentials,” either. Questions like the identity of Jesus, the nature of God, the relationship between grace and works - big, important beliefs. Each of these, and many others, have been scrutinized and discussed and reformed over the course of Christian history. In fact, the most memorable figures in the history of the church are those who have said, “Wait a minute! What are we saying here? How does this actually help people find God? Maybe we should rethink this.”

And so, if I might reword Bob’s implied question, “Should we rethink what we believe if we find that it hinders our mission of offering people a relationship with God?” I answer unequivocally, “Yes.” We always have, and I see no reason to stop now. Not without prayerful discernment, of course. Not thoughtlessly, not lightly. But certainly it is acceptable to reform.

Time for the UMC to Change: For the sake of the mission

Several people have recently asked me my opinion on the question of marrying same-sex couples, especially with the current build-up to the United Methodist General Conference next year. I have also been asked recently why I haven’t written as much about homosexuality as I used to.

My simplest answer to both is, I really don’t have anything new to add to the conversation. I have written a bunch about my beliefs on the question; a brief search of “Enter the Rainbow” would illuminate them fully.

Here’s the un-nuanced, nutshell version - first, I know that my understanding is limited and fallible, and I am not privy to the entire truth of God. Secondly, I believe that Scripture is clear about what it condemns, and it does not condemn a mutually loving and respectful relationship between two adults of the same gender. Thirdly, I have come to this belief through deep study of Scripture, earnest prayer, a lot of reading, and many hundreds of conversations and experiences with others. And fourthly, I know that there are many who do not share my belief, and many of those happen to be dear friends whom I know are faithful, loving, gracious followers of Jesus who are not hateful or homophobic or hypocritical in any way. I truly lament when some who share my belief accuse others of such hurtful things.

Lately, I have begun to be alarmed at how the United Methodist positions on same-sex marriage and ordination of people who are gay hinder the mission of the church. The official positions of our denomination on this issue create the perception that our church preaches one thing but enacts another. We’ve all read about the research done by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons that came out in 2007 in their book “unChristian.” (Here are some of their data - http://www.unchristian.com/downloads/uc_data.pdf). This study has led to others, and Adam Hamilton does a wonderful job with this topic in his book, “When Christians Get it Wrong.”

Anecdotally, all it takes is a Google search. Go to Google, type in “Christians are” and a space, and let the drop down suggestions do the rest. The first one I got just now was “hypocrites,” the second was “crazy” and the fourth one was “annoying.” (The third one was “like pumpkins,” which is that trite little piece about how God scoops out our internal junk and carves smiles on our faces. Horrifying!)

Experientially, all it takes is a dozen or so conversations with a few teens and twenty-somethings. The UMC’s position is seen as so completely out of touch with the real world as to be almost laughable. It would be laughable, in fact, if it wasn’t so sad. I’ve had dozens of conversations with dozens of people outside the church who simply consider the church to be so far removed from their lives that they would never even consider turning there for spiritual connection. And it’s not animosity; it’s simple ambivalence.

And so here am I, a pastor who is passionate about helping people become disciples of Jesus Christ who are working to make the world better for God’s sake. And I am discovering over and over again in multiple conversations with many different people who are “outside the church” that I am unable to accomplish that mission, simply because people don’t see why they need to be a part of what they see as a hypocritical organization in order to make the world a better place. They’re already doing that, thanks.

We in the church are told over and over again by so many different people that we need to stay focused on the mission above all else. Districts, conferences, denominational offices, inter-denominational groups - everyone seems to be calling the church to an intensive focus on the mission to “make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.” This renewed focus, they all say, is what it is going to take to save the church from its impending demise.

Well, okay then. How serious are we about that? If there a couple of phrases in the “Book of Discipline” that are proving to be a significant stumbling block to undertaking that mission, should we not remove them?

(Again, I welcome dialogue on these questions. However I invite you to respectful and grace-filled dialogue only, please. Please comment and express your perspective on matters, but please do so in a way that indicates you have read Romans 12 at least once in your life.)

Regifting Encouraged

Matthew 25:14-30, a story known as “The Parable of the Talents,” is a wonderful illustration of a Wesleyan understanding of salvation. However it presents several contextual challenges to contemporary North American Christians, cultural stumbling blocks that hinder our understanding of the lessons woven into the parable.

It begins with a man entrusting (Gk. paradidomi, “to give into the hand of another”) of massive sums of money to his servants. Unbidden. Unasked. They do nothing to earn this gift. It is given into their hands with no instruction, just the act of giving.

And they are given differing amounts, “to each according to his ability.” We are tempted to make too much of these differences; the lowest amount given, “one talent,” was equal to 15 years’ salary. The point is not to quibble over the differences in the amounts given, but rather to be amazed by the abundance of the gift.

God gives abundantly to all, and to each one is given a unique life. Because the metaphor of the parable is financial, that unique, personalized giving is indicated by differing amounts of money. Our capitalistic culture has conditioned us to think first, “Five talents is more than one, so five talents is better.” I believe this to be a significant block to understanding this parable. One talent is an enormous, virtually inconceivable gift, and any servant ought to feel the significance of it.

But Servant 3 (shall we call him Dwight?), does not understand the significance of the gift he has been given, and so Dwight does nothing with it. Actually, he does something, but what he does is go and bury the gift in a hole in the ground. His action proves that the gift is not irresistible. Rather than embrace and utilize the gift, he rejects it and hides it away.

Is he (like us) obsessing over and jealous of the differing amounts given? Is he perhaps apathetic to the gift or to the giver? Is he so wrapped up in his life that he can’t be bothered to deal with this gift, even as wonderful as it is? Is he actually afraid to take a risk, thinking the master will punish him if the risk fails?

In the meantime servants 1 and 2 (shall we call them Pam and Jim?) receive the inconceivable gift entrusted to them and put it to work. As they do, they find that the gift multiplies, expands, and returns to them doubled.

Remember that they were not instructed as to what exactly to do with the gift they had been given; it was up to them to take the initiative and utilize the gift, risking it all, not clinging to it for their own security or comfort, but “putting it out there” and hoping for the best.

What motivates Pam and Jim? Why do they do what they do, in such dramatic contrast to what Dwight did? Don’t they fear the master’s punishment if their risk fails? With the enormous gift given them, they might have just called it quits, headed off to the Riviera, and lived a life of ease for the rest of their days - but they didn’t. Why not?

The master returns.

And here, we come to a telling moment. We assume that the master will now ask for the talents back, right? The text tells us he has come to “settle accounts,” so we are actually set up to assume as much.

But imagine our surprise when we do not hear the master ask for the money back, but rather gives Pam and Jim even more. That’s right, when Pam and Jim give their report to the master, he praises them, gives them more, and invites them to “enter into his joy.” He never asks for the talents they have made, let alone the principle originally entrusted.

Here’s another enormous cultural blockage. Even without reading it, the ears of our imagination actually hear the master ask the servants for the money. But he doesn’t. He gives them more.

And then it’s Dwight’s turn.

Poor Dwight.

Dwight comes up to the master and the first thing he says is, “You are a rotten master.” This is probably not the best way to start the conversation.

He continues, “You’re mean and selfish and take things that you don’t earn yourself. So here’s your stupid talent back.”

Notice that, of the three, Dwight is the only one who actually offers to give the talent back to the master, Pam and Jim just show the master what they have done with what they have been given. It’s almost as if Pam and Jim are eager to continue, and are simply giving a status report on their projects to date. Dwight, in contrast, is done with this whole endeavor and is rejecting the gift, and with it any ongoing relationship with the giver as well.

Dwight’s bitter words and his rejection of the gift have consequences. The talent, which was so freely and abundantly given, is no longer available to him. And in a stark contrast to “entering into the joy of the master,” Dwight is forcibly evicted into the mysterious “outer darkness,” a phrase used only three times in the entire New Testament and only in the Gospel of Matthew.

And so the story ends … with gnashing teeth. (Idea for new business: “Outer Darkness Orthodontics.”)

There are at least three contemporary assumptions we make about this parable that I believe hinder our understanding:
1) 5 talents is better than 1. We need to think “different” instead of “better.”
2) The master asks Pam and Jim to return the talents. He doesn’t; he gives them more. (“To those who have, more will be given.” (v. 29))
3) “The joy of the master” equals “heaven” and “the outer darkness” equals “hell.” This is not stated in the parable anywhere; in fact there is no reason not to interpret these two ideas as here-and-now realities in this world rather than somewhere in the next.

If we lay these assumptions aside, this parable may be able to teach us something new. Often, the lesson is minimized to “use it or lose it.” As in, you have been given certain skills by God, and you have to utilize those skills or they will deteriorate. But that doesn’t feel entirely right to me, since this parable is among those that are describing the return of Christ and the realization of the reign of God on earth; the “coming of the end of the age.” (Take a look at Matthew 24:1-3 to read the set-up question for this section.)

So it seems to me that this parable may be able to teach us more than that we need to practice piano at least 30 minutes a day or we won’t get any better. (Although that certainly is true, kids. Do what your teacher tells you.)

With what have we been entrusted by God? What has God given to us?

… It would be better to ask, what hasn’t been.

All that we are comes from God. Life - Love - Grace - Salvation - Truth - Justice - Shalom. Everything. And it is such an inconceivably large gift, true. But what makes it even more inconceivable is that it is given without our asking for it. God’s gift is “prevenient,” that is, it comes prior to the event of our accepting it. God offers first, before we are even aware that an offer has been made.

Discovering that this immeasurable gift is offered to us, we then either accept it or not. Accepting the gift is the moment of “justification” in a Wesleyan viewpoint; other traditions call it “getting saved.” It is a powerful moment. It happens differently for different people; sometimes in one euphoric instant, and sometimes in subtle little moments here and there over time.

And then, if we accept the gift, we may be dismayed to discover that it does not come with instructions. This is called “free will.” Remember that Dwight received the gift, too. The master gave him a gigantic gift, and he accepted it. It’s what he did next that was his downfall.

Yes, we are free to do with the gift whatever we will. Are we going to display it in a curio cabinet in the living room? Are going to store it away in the attic and only get it out when the giver comes to visit? Or will we understand that there is more to do with the gift, that we can use it day by day to live better lives? In a Wesleyan view, there certainly is more that we are to do, once we have received the gift.

This “more to do” is called “sanctification” and it is the process of salvation by which, in cooperation with God’s grace, we grow closer and closer to God, by which we become more and more Christlike, by which the pattern of discipleship becomes more and more deeply imprinted upon us. Having received the gift, we must utilize it in order that it would expand. If we do not, it will wither away and we’ll lose it.

And as we increase the gift God has given, “working out our salvation,” we await the return of the master, the completion of God’s reign, the parousia, the “end of the age,” or any other of a number of metaphors to describe that-for-which-we-wait. And when that moment arrives …. wait for it …

We discover that there is even more!

As unimaginable as God’s gift is in this age, in the next it is even more so. Can you believe that? Just pondering that idea makes my mind swirl. That’s why nobody can know exactly what “that-for-which-we-wait” looks like. In fact I’m kind of suspicious of those who claim they are privy to this knowledge. It is just too huge.

And so the parable has something to teach about using our God-given skills, certainly. It has something to do with unleashing our spiritual gifts, no doubt. But that is because the parable has to do with how we are living our lives as a whole - skills, gifts, words, actions, attitudes, thoughts, relationships, health, resources - everything.

Live life in a way that builds up, multiplies, expands. Focus outwardly. Radiate. Receiving God’s gift is just one moment, it’s what you do with the gift for the rest of your life that matters most.

What will you do with what God has given you?

Rationalization vs. Confession: Post-Bible Study Musings

“So wait, is this your belief or are you trying to say that this is what the book of James is saying?” he asked me.

And inside I smiled a little bit.

I smiled a little bit because when somebody asks me this during a Bible study that I am leading, I know it’s going well. I have said something that challenges assumptions and forces people to think critically and deeply about how scripture should inform our lives.

Of course, that’s easier to do with some scriptures than others, and it just so happens that the book of James is full of ideas that ought to challenge us. You don’t have to dig too deeply to discover a thought that shakes your foundation.

I believe that the predominant theme of the letter is the friend of God/friend of the world dichotomy. “Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God.” (4:4) This “no-one-can-serve-two-masters” idea is fairly common throughout scripture, but nowhere more clearly articulated than in James, and as such it provokes some pretty deep thought.

Last night at Bible study, many of us sensed the challenge, myself included. We were confronted with the notion that we do not truly live our lives the way God wants us to. And then we realized that there are two options when confronted with this fact.

Option A, we can rationalize our lives. Or 2, we can confess our sin.

Of course our first inclination is to rationalize. We will do all sorts of interpretive gyrations with scripture in order to get its message to fit into our current lifestyle. “It’s for the safety and security and health and well-being of my family,” we frequently say.

Even that?

Abraham is James’ example (2:21). Abraham, whose friendship of God was manifest in his willingness to sacrifice his own son. Even that.

“I’ll follow you, Jesus, but my dad just died and his funeral is today.”

“I’ll follow you, Jesus, but I’d like to say goodbye to my family first.”

Luke chapter 9. Even that.

The enormous amount of wealth that families amass (my own included) in the form of savings accounts and college funds and insurance policies and investments … it’s all for the welfare of my family, right? What’s so wrong with that?

“I’ll follow you, Jesus, let me just check my 401k first.”

“You do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (4:14)

Rather than reshape God’s word so that it fits into our lives, the second option is to confess. We don’t like this option, since it requires humility, and we do not do humility very well. Option A doesn’t require humility, or submission, or transformation, so we like it! We can go on living exactly how we want to live, and feel good about it.

Or maybe we could confess.

Maybe we could truly acknowledge that we know very well what Jesus expects of us, and the way we live is nowhere close to it; it’s just too hard.

Maybe we could actually confess our need to discover who Jesus really is and pattern our lives after his and stop bickering about the minutiae of the inane.

Maybe we could confess that we are stuck in a society that pulls on us from a thousand directions at once, and we are helpless to pull ourselves out of it completely.

And maybe in confessing we could receive grace. And maybe in receiving grace we could experience transformation.

And maybe in the transformation we will discover that God will not actually ask us to sacrifice our own son, and provide for our needs anyway. Yes, maybe we will realize that if we are actually seeking first the kingdom of God, a few other things might be added unto us as well.

Maybe we will figure out that confessing opens up space in our lives for grace, and when grace begins to fill your life it is oh, so, so, very, very good! As in, unimaginably good - better than in your wildest dreams!

The book of James expresses the moral imperatives of Christianity in provocative ways. They are written “so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing” (1:4) and in order that we might embody “the implanted word that has the power to save your souls” (1:21).

In other words, “faith is brought to completion by works” (2:22); we live what we believe. And sometimes we don’t. And that’s okay - that’s why there’s grace. But rather than pretend our lives are just fine, maybe we need to confess that they really aren’t, and see what happens from there.

"Markers of Religious Connection?"

My mind is circling around a significant realization, and yet I can’t quite seem to grasp it. It’s like I catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, but if I turn to look at it full-on, it evaporates.

There are a lot of concurrent streams that seem to be converging, and they have to do with ministry, discipleship, church, and how to discern/assess/evaluate them.

Tis the season, I suppose - end of the year reports and evaluations and budgets and goal-setting and all that jazz. And I just become more and more convinced that numbers are not telling the story that we need to be telling.

Get your mind around this. The congregation I serve is going to turn in about the same number of professions of faith this year as last year - 26 last year and 25 this year so far. So, more than 50 people over two years, which is groovy. The total of new members, counting transfers, is going to be up close to 150 for these two years, 2010 and 2011.

But we will be lucky if our average worship attendance increases; right now it is less than last year so if we don’t see a bump here in the last quarter, we’ll turn in a lower figure than last year, which was itself lower than the year before.

150 new members, including 50 professions of faith, and a declining worship attendance? How do we read that? Is it good or bad?

Then there’s this (click here) the Barna research that reveals the propensity of Americans to create our own religion based on what works for us. Two trends that the research reveals …

• More people claim they have accepted Jesus as their savior and expect to
go to heaven.
• And more say they haven’t been to church in the past six months except
for special occasions such as weddings or funerals.

Allow me to holler an “Amen!” to that.

“The important markers of religious connection are fracturing,” says this article, paraphrasing Barna. That says it better than anything I’ve read or heard. The things that we once used to gauge a congregation’s effectiveness or an individual’s spiritual health are no longer applicable.

'The important markers of religious connection are fracturing.'

I have noticed a growing tendency to think of church as something you fit into your otherwise busy schedule. As Barna says it, “We are a designer society. We want everything customized to our personal needs - our clothing, our food, our education.” And that now seems to include our discipleship, too.

Worship attendance? A fractured marker.

Weekly faith formation group? Fractured marker.

Tithing? Fractured marker.

Truly selfless service? Fractured marker.

The thing is, people who DO all of those “markers of connection” can feel a real impact in their lives. Those who worship every week, participate in a small group, give generously, serve selflessly, etc. - it makes an incredible difference in their lives. Their lives are balanced, they know deep joy, there is a firm foundation for times of trouble, and they become who God wants them to be.

And so how can I, a pastor whose driving motivator is to help people become disciples of Jesus who are changing the world for God’s sake, convey this message? How do I say to someone who thinks life is “just fine” that there is more?

It is hard to do because, on one level, their life really is just fine - great job, nice house, a couple of cars, fancy home entertainment center, and so on. Religion becomes something to fit into all of that, not something that calls one to be radically transformed.

The important markers of religious connection are fracturing. And yet we still believe they are important, don’t we? And so we still utilize them to assess congregational effectiveness, even when it may not be applicable to do so because it really doesn’t tell a true story.

- Are there other markers that we could be using? What would they be?

- Can we rethink the traditional markers somehow? In the same way that individuals design their own faith, should the churches design our own assessment tools?

- How do we talk about transformation when everything is “just fine?”

This issue is on a lot of minds lately, and I hope this moment doesn’t go by un-seized. Bishop Pennel has a column on the UMPortal today that gives his thoughts, and I have read several others in recent days. All a part of the converging streams of thought swirling in my brain these days.

Clearly the question of congregational health/effectiveness/success is not going anywhere any time soon.

It's Playoff Time Again!

This year’s playoff salaries, according to this site

Philadelphia Phillies - $ 172,976,379
St. Louis Cardinals - $ 105,433,572
Milwaukee Brewers - $ 85,497,333
Arizona Diamondbacks - $ 53,639,833

New York Yankees - $ 202,689,028
Detroit Tigers - $ 105,700,231
Texas Rangers - $ 92,299,264
Tampa Bay Rays - $ 41,053,571

So for me, this means I will root for St. Louis and Arizona in the NL and Detroit and Tampa from the AL.

Then Arizona and Tampa in the series, with Tampa winning it all. Go Rays!

The New York Yankees’ payroll is almost five times Tampa Bay’s.

Your average salary if you’re a Tampa Bay Ray is $ 1,578,983. If you are a Yankee, it’s $ 6,756,300.

Tampa’s is the second lowest in all of baseball. The lowest? Kansas City, at $ 36,126,000.

The highest paid divisional losers this year were the Minnesota Twins (snicker), who paid out a whopping $ 112,737,000 for the pleasure of losing 99 games, second worst in baseball, and finishing dead last in the pathetic AL Central. The worst team in baseball this year was Houston, who only paid $ 70,694,000, quite a bargain by comparison.

Even the lowest playoff payroll is an obscene amount, of course. A whole lot of good could be done for a whole lot of people with just Tampa Bay’s meager 41 million. The world definitely has its priorities screwed up, no doubt about it.

Nevertheless, it is baseball, and it is the playoffs, and since my team is not in it this year (but just wait till next year!) I am participating in my annual ritual of deciding whom to root for by how big the payrolls are.

Go Rays! (Again.)

Fruitful Questions - Hoping for Answers!

There is a contradiction at work in the church that needs to be addressed. Simply put, the passionate call for change contradicts the use of old methods of assessment.

To be sure, there has been a shift of emphasis in our assessment, from counting “members” to counting people who are active in their discipleship. We count worshipers, people in hands-on mission, and those who participate in small groups. That’s good, and it is definitely better than counting people in the nearly meaningless category of “member.”

But we are still often times just counting heads in order to determine effectiveness (or fruitfulness), and then making decisions based on those counts. We are calling for our congregations to focus outwardly, meanwhile making all of our assessments inwardly.

It is very encouraging to hear Missouri’s Bishop Schnase and members of the cabinet here in my conference talk about making decisions that are motivated by mission, not numbers. I hope that perspective continues to filter outward throughout the conference, the United Methodist denomination, and beyond. And more importantly, I hope that I can fully embrace it.

I freely admit that I am my own worst enemy when it comes to this issue. The contradiction between a fresh approach to church and a stale assessment method is nowhere more evident than in my own heart and mind. When the room is filled to capacity on a Sunday morning for worship, I always feel better than on Sundays when it is sparse, no matter what actually happens in the service itself. Lives might be changed; insights may be gained; hearts could be strangely warmed all over the place - but if attendance was 10% less this week than last, I’m not happy.

So I suppose I may be preaching this sermon to myself most of all. So here’s what I want to change about myself:

+ I want to concentrate the vast majority of my energy on the amazing patterns of Christian discipleship that are being lived all the time through so many who call this congregation home.
- In order to do this, I will need to free up a large quantity of my energy that I currently expend obsessing over numbers that have essentially plateaued over the past year.

+ I want to self-assess my ministry by determining how the people of the congregation I serve are allowing their pattern of discipleship to shape their day to day lives.
- In order to do this, I will need to be more intentional about asking and listening, providing opportunities for people of the church to provide testimony of their faith.

+ I want to figure out how to assess the fruitfulness of this congregation by determining our impact on the community of Springfield.
- I have no idea how to do this.

Those are my own goals, and what I will be sharing with my District Superintendent in a few weeks when we meet for my annual review.

And so here are the questions...

How do my goals sound to you? I’m curious to know, do other pastors also struggle with this contradiction in your own minds?

I’m also curious to know how laity assess the effectiveness/fruitfulness of the congregations they belong to. How much of a part do the numbers play in how you feel about the congregation you're a part of?

And a related question: Noting the declining commitment to attend worship and other regular church programming on a weekly basis, how does an individual Christian disciple reflect on their own fruitfulness in the stressful mix of so many competing societal influences?
- And the follow up: And how can/should the church respond to that?

A Great Spin-off Question about Serving

In response to my last post, Megan wrote:

Andy, I have a spin-off question. You mentioned not worrying about "making a mistake"- alluding to the mistake being if you gave someone the wrong kind of assistance. But what if the mistake is putting yourself in a potentially dangerous situation? I have heard folks- mostly grown men- give the answer to questions like Marti's "Instead of giving cash, take them to lunch." Or as you say, give people the gift of time and attention. But if I am walking to my office in an area of town with a bad reputation, with no one around to help me, as is the case most days, and a stranger asks me for money or something else, which is also not unusual- what am I to do? Am I being un-Christlike to consider my safety and not stop by myself to "give attention" to the stranger, let alone lunch? I have no problem helping people in "safe" environments like my office- but is that enough? Is there a line somewhere between being Christ-like and helpful and placing myself at risk of a violent crime? Or do I find that line after I make the mistake? How does a young woman respond to the call to be a "Good Samaritan?"


I love spin-offs!

Your point is well-taken, Megan. I would say that it is not un-Christlike to consider your own safety. Jesus himself did so as he prayed in Gethsemane before his crucifixion. It seems to me that his personal well-being was weighing pretty heavily on his mind as he asked if it might be possible for God’s cup to be removed from his lips.

But going deeper, and a bit more “theologically speaking,” you and I are trying to be Christlike in a broken world. The world in which we live is imperfect and there are people here who will intentionally hurt others and commit violent crimes and prey on those perceived as vulnerable. In fact, it is because we live in a broken world that followers of Jesus are commanded to “be Christlike.” If the world was already as God intended it to be, well then our job would be done, and the party could really get started.

I wish there was a line like you describe; a risk-marking boundary that showed us “this far but no further.” That line would be in different places for different people, I suspect. And it would be in different places in different contexts, as well. One would tend to draw that line much closer when walking alone in a part of town with a bad reputation, for example.

But what happens if I draw that line and instead of a boundary protecting me it turns out to be a barrier that keeps another from receiving life-giving help? Of course, this is the heart of the question you raise.

I’m not intending to “proof text” here, but maybe this passage has something to say: “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:19b-20)

I believe that when I say that I am a disciple of Jesus, I am saying that my life is no longer my own. My life. My physical life does not belong to me any more. I have in my wallet a copy of John Wesley’s covenant prayer that says, in part, “I am no longer my own, but thine…. Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee, exalted for thee or brought low for thee. Let me be full, let me be empty. Let me have all things, let me have nothing.” The idea of the prayer is that we belong to God, whether that means we will prosper or suffer as a result of our actions.

So, I don’t believe that you always have to be risking your life in order to be considered Christlike. And neither do I believe that a situation being life-threatening excludes it from Christian discipleship.

I believe that, because we live in a broken world, there may very well be times when following Jesus means risking our lives. And that bothers me, because I don't know if I am really willing to do that.


PS - I have a-whole-nother response that has to do with your use of the phrase “Good Samaritan” but I believe I’ll save it for a-whole-nother day. :)