Is Diversity Still a Strength?

In the past month, I have heard both from a family who is leaving the congregation because it is too conservative for them and also from a family who is leaving because it is too progressive for them.

Now obviously, as I spoke with each one they shared more; their reasons are more nuanced and complex than that. There is always more to the story. But that’s the nutshell version: for one it is “too conservative” and for the other it is “too progressive.”

For nine and a half years, I have been preaching a consistent message: Love can overcome different perspectives. Diversity is a strength. The conversation matters. “Though we do not think alike, may we not love alike?” as John Wesley said.

I believed that the church was made up of people who see the world differently, people whose politics and theology are labelled either “conservative” or “progressive” or some other such label, and yet who could embrace our variety of perspectives together as we focused on the mission and ministry of the church, and could do so with abiding love for one another.

But the two conversations I mentioned above have given me pause to wonder if that is true anymore, and to ask myself some existential questions. Here are a few…

Question 1 - Has something fundamentally shifted in our world that makes it simply impossible to be in relationship with (much less have a conversation with) someone who sees the world very differently from one’s self? We all know the cliché about knowing what people with whom to avoid discussing politics. It has become a meme, but it really isn’t funny. Why can we not even talk with each other anymore?

Question 2 - Does the “malevolent spirit” currently unleashed upon us have more power over us than the power of God’s love? I do not believe that in my heart of hearts, but from the way we are acting these days, it seems that it may. Or rather, it seems that we have allowed it to.

Question 3 - Is it time for a season of being intentionally apart from one another? Should we just seek out like-minded people and commiserate for a little while, take comfort in similarity, breathe deeply without fear of conflict or attack, without the anxiety of defensiveness, and simply renew our souls? And plan for some point in the future in which the atmosphere might be sufficiently healed that we can come together again?

I am very progressive – theologically, socially, and politically. And yet I have made every effort to temper my own bias, knowing that I am preacher in a diverse congregation. Obviously my bias is revealed every so often; how could it not be? It is who I am. It’s just that I take very seriously the Biblical admonition to avoid being a stumbling block for others who are seeking God. And if my progressive perspective is a stumbling block for anyone’s relationship with God, it breaks my heart. Every time. But that begs another existential question…

Question 4 - Has my tempering of my bias become in and of itself a stumbling block for others? Here I am thinking of the family who told me the congregation is “too conservative” for them. And moreover, here I am thinking of the many, many people who have rejected church as an option in their spiritual lives because they assume that being socially, theologically, and politically conservative is the only choice for a follower of Jesus. This is of course an incorrect assumption, but am I exacerbating it by trying to moderate my progressiveness?

Please forgive my processing these questions “out loud,” so to speak. This is a highly narcissistic post, I know. I’ve been pretty transparent here about some real internal struggles I’m feeling right now, and I understand the risk that entails. But I know that I am surrounded by gracious, loving people who are a continual source of encouragement and support for me, and I’ll just throw myself on your grace and understanding at this point.

And at the same time, I get the feeling I’m not the only pastor struggling with these kinds of questions. There are enough of us, in fact, that the Missouri Conference of the United Methodist Church put together an excellent webinar series on the topic, called “Pastoring in Partisan Times.” (You can watch the recordings here.)

One of the most helpful ideas that came out of that webinar series for me came from Dr. Leah Gunning-Francis, who said, “I know that we are looking for ways to try to appease and make people feel comfortable, but the truth of the matter is it is impossible to do that in light of the gospel.” I get that. In fact that really pokes at the dead center of my existential struggle. How do I hold “making people comfortable” and “not being a stumbling block” in tension and still be an effective preacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ?

So that’s where I am at the moment. I’ve been here nine and half years, preaching the same message (diverse perspectives are a strength), and now have had two very faithful families from opposite ends of the spectrum tell me they are not going to be a part of the congregation anymore, because it is not closely enough aligned with their own perspective. It has shaken me, and left me wondering if diversity actually is a strength anymore.

And now I’m just trying to figure out what to do with that.


UPDATE (1/4): I would like to add that the people who left are people whom I love dearly and whom I consider to be very good friends. Which makes the whole thing all the more befuddling and heartbreaking.

Jesus is Alive and I'm Wide Awake!

Counterpoint:

I am disheartened by the number of clergy people and church staff members publically lamenting how tired they are on Monday morning after Easter.

Having said that, I realize it won’t be the most popular opinion among my peers. I mean no offense to anyone in particular. Don’t be a hater. Please let me explain …

First of all, everybody works hard. Everybody. Yes of course, we work hard during Holy Week and Easter. But we do not work harder than anyone else. And most people work harder ALL THE TIME, just to make ends meet. Our complaints about how sleepy we are on the Monday after Easter are belittling and disrespectful to people who do not have the privilege and luxury to take a day and a half off after a particularly rough few days of work.

Secondly, theologically speaking, if you are not energized into action by what happens on Easter morning, you did it wrong. I cannot WAIT to get up and get going on the Monday after Easter! There’s so much energy in resurrection, and I am totally charged up by it. “Christ is risen!” is more than just a liturgical greeting or a pithy internet meme, it is a profound spiritual truth that should inspire us to be someone brand new, especially on the Monday right after Easter.

Thirdly, what is it about us that creates the need to point out publicly how hard we’ve been working? What are we looking for from these public pronouncements? It is as if we need approval, someone to say, “Yes, I noticed you working. Good job.” Now to be sure, it is really, really nice when that actually happens. It’s always good to receive affirmation and gratitude. It’s very cool to know that someone heard you. But I guess I just do not understand the need to fish for it on social media.

And finally, if your congregation is typical, chances are you just worshiped with at least twice as many people as on a normal Sunday morning. You saw people you haven’t seen in weeks, you had guests there for the very first time, you had people there who really didn’t want to be, and on and on. It was packed out! Now, build from that momentum, keep it going! Don’t take a break at this point, bringing it all to a screeching halt. Take that energy created by all those people there to encounter the living God and go somewhere with it!

Yes, I know all about Sabbath rest and self-care and all that jazz. I had an hour long nap yesterday afternoon. What I’m talking about is using social media and other public venues to intentionally mention how tired we are on Monday, how sleepy Easter made us. No, no, no! Easter doesn’t put us to sleep – it wakes us up! Easter is the beginning of new life, new energy, new focus, new purpose.

Churches should view Easter Sunday as a launching pad, not an arrival point. The Church needs to get up with Peter and run to the risen Christ. Churches ought to blast off from Easter into a brand new season of mission and ministry We ought to stop telling everyone how tired we are, and start telling everybody how alive Jesus is!

"Should" vs. "Want To" (And Blatant Pastoral Narcissism)

Focus less on convincing people that they should …
           … and more on equipping the people that already want to.

I’ve been contemplating this idea all week long. It seems like everything I do is geared toward convincing, cajoling, urging people to practice the pattern of discipleship – you know: weekly worship, small group study, proportional giving, selfless service, and radical hospitality – and it gets tedious. Worse, it feels empty.

It feels empty because I obsess over the people who don’t seem to get it, rather than celebrate the people who do. And I need to stop that. It puts me in a dark and scary place where I begin to doubt a whole lot of stuff about my vocation, and I’d rather not be there.

And the truth is, there are an abundance of people who “get it” when it comes to being a follower of Jesus, people who need no convincing. I feel so much more energized, focused, and happy when I get to hang out with people like that, hear them talk about God and church and discipleship and what following Jesus means to them. It is joyful and filled with grace and the power of the Holy Spirit.

And yet …

I have read several articles and books lately that describe how the church is being confronted with issues like:
- sporadic rather than weekly worship,
- small groups as cliques or clubs rather than true growth in grace and knowledge of God,
- giving when it’s convenient rather than proportionally to one’s income,
- being “nice” to others rather than engaging in selfless service, and
- staying home when you have house guests rather than actually inviting a stranger to church.

Now it sounds like I’m just griping. And I don’t want to be “that pastor.” But I need to be honest. It just takes so much energy to move people from being a good-person-who-goes-to-church-every-so-often to actually becoming an authentic disciple of Jesus Christ.

So I was thinking maybe I need to take a break from trying to convince people that they should, and focus more on equipping the people that already want to. Encouraging, cheering, thanking.

Like for example, last night there were eight people in Bible Study, and there are usually more than twice that number. My initial reaction was one of disappointment at the low attendance. But you know what? The discussion at that Bible Study was one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve had all week. Why? Because of the "want to."

And what does it say about my own theology when I think it is up to me to convince people that they should follow Jesus? How narcissistic is that? What would happen if I actually allowed the Holy Spirit to convince, cajole, and convict?

And what if I then saw my role simply as the one who would meet them in the midst of their life and help them follow that conviction?

I suppose what I’m getting at is that I’m tired of trying to generate the conviction in people and being met with a resounding “meh.” And there are so, so many people who have already felt that conviction and are actively following it – and so yeah, that’s the people I want to be with.

In the Gospels, three different groups are described. In short, these groups are the “Scribes and Pharisees,” the “crowd,” and the “disciples.” The “S & P” group is openly antagonistic toward Jesus. The “disciples” have transformed their lives to follow Jesus.

But the “crowd” is that large and mostly anonymous group that’s hanging out and listening to what he has to say, watching what he’s doing, enjoying some bread and fish with 5,000 of their closest friends, but haven’t made the commitment that the disciples have to actually follow him wherever he goes.

It has been my pattern to focus mostly on people in the “crowd” and move them into the “disciples” group. But just lately I’m feeling God nudge me to spend less energy there and more time and energy with the disciples. And in particular, with disciples who have found the church to be … well … let’s just say “lacking” when it comes to discipleship opportunities.

I believe that I am called in particular to serve people who have felt the Holy Spirit’s conviction to follow Jesus but cannot find a way to pursue that conviction in the life of the church.

In other words, focus less on convincing people that they should and more on equipping the people that already want to.