your average pastor

Making Sense of the Tactile/Digital Divide

2012-02-09T11:47:00.000-08:00

My relationship with books is at a crossroads.

During my seminary education, Professor Paul Sponheim distinguished himself from other professors through his relationship with books. Whenever he talked about a book during a lecture, he'd have to show us the physical book. I'm not sure why he did this. I wonder if he thought we wouldn't believe the book existed unless he showed it to us. The ritual was a little crazy, but endearing. One time he used a hand truck to wheel the books in for a lecture (I think his record was about 30 books). The books in his office not only filled the bookshelves, but stacks stood like a maze of sentries around his desk. He said he usually read a book every day. I was in awe.

I love books, but I loathe storing and carrying them, and after 10 years of interim ministry I had to move them frequently. For years I carried anywhere from 5-15 books with me almost anywhere I went. When I acquired an iPad last year, I was thrilled at the idea of digital books. These days I often bristle at the thought of a paper book as I am reminded of lugging labor. After 10 months with an iPad, I love using it in many different ways, and I own about 20-30 digital books--but I only dabble in them. In 10 months with my iPad, I'm reading fewer books and more digital news articles, journal articles and blogs. This is a bad trend.

The other day I picked up a new Bible for myself for the first time in 4-5 years. I had pruned my Bible collection by about 75 percent, as my Bible software has taken the place of keeping so many Bible translations (moving 3 times in 3 years will inspire these kinds of decisions). When I picked up that new Bible, a wave of tactile energy overwhelmed me. The closest comparison is a long overdue hug with my wife. I hadn't realized the importance of the that tactile ritual. I'm looking forward to reading it again. I have several thoughts about my relationships with books.

1. Seth Godin suggests that an e-reader separate from tablet might be a better investment for the sake of productivity. Is he on to something?
2. Is my relationship with paper books so deep that my conversion to e-books will never be complete (but complete for my possible future grandchildren)?
3. The goal is to read and learn. Maybe I shouldn't be so hung up on the means of getting there, but to just do it.

Consumption Christianity (Mark 1: 29-39)

2012-02-08T08:16:00.001-08:00

With thousands of editions of English translation Bibles available to North American consumers, it's no wonder that the Bible is seen as just another product ready for consumption. Interestingly enough, the prevalence of Bibles doesn't mean that the population is any more adept at Bible reading. Mark's gospel tells a simple story of Jesus driving out a woman's fever. She then moves quickly into a mode of service. This story is easy to pass over, but it foreshadows how Jesus views his own ministry. In Mark 10:45, Jesus describes his own ministry similarly to the woman who was healed: "For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve..." Though it is a blessing to have numerous amount of materials available to increase our knowledge of the Bible, a consumer understanding of religion and faith do not fit the teachings of Jesus. The good news is that Christ was sent to equip us for ministry, not to passively consume.

Go, American People!

2012-02-01T10:29:00.000-08:00

In this presidential election year, I am reminded to check my assumptions.

The population of the United States is approximately 313 million people. If I take in any report about the campaign, little time elapses between each utterance of the title "American People."

The American People expect, The American People demand, The American People deserve, The American People want. I am calling for a diet for "American People." Occasionally a generalization illuminates a point. I try to use them sparingly, because I hope that I respect the uniqueness of individuals. We are all made in the image of God, yet with many idiosyncrasies.

American People is not a precise title. Maybe we should assume that politicians and pundits mean the United States, but Canada is in North America. Mitt Romney is probably not speaking to the people of Montevideo (Uruguay, not Minnesota). Barack Obama is not likely looking for commentary from Ascuncion.

To go along with my cover bands Lenten Journey and The True Meaning of Christmas, my next band will be called The American People, each band a living satire, reminding me to check my assumptions when I speak, write or tweet.

Servanthood over Certainty (1 Cor. 8 & Mark 1:21-28)

2012-01-30T14:58:00.001-08:00

From where does authority come? Decisiveness? Intelligence? Persuasive communication? Strength? Though any of these traits may contribute to an authoritative presence, Paul and Jesus each provide examples of what it means to lead in a community of faith and in the world. Sometimes politicians and other leaders attempt a different approach to gain authority, leading their listeners to believe that with volume and certainty come authority. In Paul's statement, "knowledge puffs up, but love builds up," and in Jesus' actions of compassion and healing, we are called to look for servanthood over certainty in our lives and in community.

Congregational Annual Meetings and the Currency of Passion

2012-01-27T08:22:00.000-08:00

In my tradition, many congregations are conducting an annual meeting this Sunday. Most of the energy and time in preparing this meeting is placed toward concocting a budget, and the recipe often calls for blood squeezed from turnips.

The discussion leading up to and during these meetings highlights desperate pleas for greater revenues/offering and/or cutting staff and programs. The efforts to change the community via budget policy and concoctions often resembles the making New Year's resolutions on December 30th while stuffing a mouth full of stale Christmas cookies. The habits don't often change in the long term from these annual tantrums about the way we're living our lives.

The change necessary for a congregation is cultural and spiritual, and does not require money. The currency for the congregation is passion, and passion is poorly invested if it's all deposited in the annual meeting and budget formulation.

A better congregational meeting involves passion that will be invested for the sake of ministry, because passion is valuable these days.

Why Feed the Certainty Beast?

2012-01-23T08:13:00.000-08:00

People crave certainty.

From politicians (flip-floppers are despised), to weather forecasters, to pastors, a certain section of the public demands certainty and becomes apoplectic when the certainty beast isn't fed.

I'm not in the certainty business.

I don't care if a politician is a flip-flopper. If a political leader needs to change their position based on an honest gathering of information, I appreciate that the leader is using their brain and a level of discernment (flip-flopping for pure political expediency is another story).

University of Washington atmospheric science professor Cliff Mass shares that if a forecast needs to change, then change it based on the information in front of you, and forget the earlier forecast. Mass took a lot of heat for changing his forecast, but he had to. The information changed.

The fearful thing with the role of politician and weather forecaster is that while the public demands certainty, fulfilling the leadership calling recognizes that feeding the certainty beast is not necessarily faithful. At least, this is how I see it as a pastor.

Some might argue that most of all, a pastor is in the certainty business. If a pastor is not the bearer of certainty about God and Christ, then what's the point? I can't speak for others who share my profession, but I believe that God gives followers power to share their witness of God's activity in the world (see Acts 1: 6-11) and that the cross of Christ is more about the faithfulness of God than the certainty of God. If I put my effort into being certain in relation to my neighbor, I lose opportunities to remain connected to my neighbor.

Being connected to my neighbor communicates the faithfulness of God more than certainty. The certainty beast does not have to be fed, though it will continue to growl.

Considering Profound Disappointment With The World

2012-01-20T10:08:00.000-08:00

Watching those who speak and/or write about society, is it possible to avoid the ethos of anger or disappointment?

One of the popular ways someone can gain people to join a cause is through anger and disappointment. Check the political debates. Read your favorite columnist. Watch the pundits on Sunday. Listen to the radio. Check out a message board. Go to a local cafe. Participate in a discussion in a church fellowship hall.

Sometimes I read my own blog and discover that my most "popular" blog posts are when I am my angriest.

Join me in reading John 3:16-17. On what section do you focus?

I recognize I come from a place of privilege in the world. I also know injustice is rampant, which makes me sad, angry, and often disappointed. Once in awhile, I'll do something about it.

If God actually loves the world (or was it only a one time thing when Jesus showed up), I have a hard time reconciling that all I can do is be disappointed or angry with the world.

Don't Go There (Psalm 139 & John 1:43-51)

2012-01-17T10:48:00.001-08:00

It's common thinking for humans to perceive the absence of God in certain types of situations. First, in the midst of chaos. Genesis 1 suggests that God is not only present in chaos, but thrives and creates in it. The other situation is in the midst of isolation--in a place where no one else wants to go. Psalm 139 and John 1:43-51 depict miserable, isolated places. These places do not reflect the absence of God, but the lengths that God is willing to go to love.

In reflecting on the vast presence of God in the world, it may be intimidating or comforting, or both. The vast presence of God in these Bible passages also issue a calling, because if we are followers of Jesus the Christ, it means we are called into places that no one else may be willing to go. This is a scary proposition. However, if God does not abandon us, and goes to our own isolated places in life, then why be paralyzed by fear or worry?

Is Redemption For Church Boards Possible?

2012-01-11T08:09:00.000-08:00

When I work with leadership groups in congregations, I am often in awe of their individual stories. I learn about all kinds of vocation. Mothers with an artistic flair, health care workers who help cure disease and play saxophone, soldiers who give their passion and leadership in between deployments, dead-eye shot farmers, trucker theologians, ice-water veined CEOs, insightful entrepreneurs. God gives them the gifts to do these amazing things. They love God. They love their church. They do whatever they can to help the church to do good ministry.

At least 90% of them cannot state why they are serving in their particular position in church.

It's hard for me to imagine how such talented people with such a strong sense of purpose in other areas of their lives settle for such meandering when it comes to the direction of the church.

Maybe it's because making a decision cuts off other possibilities, possibilities that may hurt another human being, and that's not Christian. Maybe.

Congregations often can't decide what their board should be--a representative group or a leadership group. For the life of me, I can't figure out a good reason why a church board needs more people present (this doesn't mean I am against public meetings, only meetings where so many are required to attend). As if more people in the bureaucracy means more frequent and faithful ministry. I believe a church board is best served with five people (seven at the most), with energy directed toward being transparent about ideas and decisions, rather than creating more structure. Yet, time after time, I find boards with 13, 15, 17, 20+ people on them (probably related to a representation understanding). The meetings are frequent, long and arduous. People serve them out of a sense of duty (which is not a bad thing), but it is misplaced energy. People are busy. Regular, frequent meetings might have been a way to bring people together in the past, but that train already departed. If the goal is fellowship and contact, don't facilitate the gathering under the guise of a business meeting, go for fellowship.

I remember in my early years of ministry, there was a movement to make church boards into small spiritual communities. In some ways, that trend was like putting pearls on a pig. The idea did not address the underlying problem. The structure of the church was not serving joyful ministry. The members ended up serving the structure of the church. Joy departed. Fatigue and discouragement spread. I remember an alert about the pitfalls of building up church boards as opposed to congregational ministry and discipleship, which began my search to convert the countless hours I spent attending time wasting meetings and missing opportunities to spend evening time with my family.

Jesus once said that Sabbath was made for humankind, not the other way around (Mark 2: 23-28). Congregations place too much energy in serving their structures. Serving structures makes the congregation more susceptible to power plays. Congregations may find more joy if they find their joy in ministry as opposed to bureaucratic wrangling. Once congregations can claim where they find joy in ministry, then they can determine what kind of structure their congregation needs.

I find new light when I find a congregation with the courage to find their joy in serving God and release themselves from serving a structure. Jesus did not say that Sabbath was bad, and that is was good when it served abundant life, rather than as a weapon for the powerful. Structure for a church is not bad, but it easily become an idol, and a despised one at that.

What do you see in your congregational boards?

Where There Is Chaos, God Is There (Genesis 1: 1-5)

2012-01-09T07:52:00.001-08:00

Sometimes it's easy to find the presence of God, especially when things are going well. When things are going well, blessing is evident. However, when we see chaos, discord and messes in life, it may lead us to think that God is absent. Genesis 1 is a creation story that tells us that God created out of chaos. God addresses chaos by lovingly creating with a word. Not only is a word delivered to bring some order in the midst of chaos, but the creation (including you) is employed in bringing order to the chaos. This is a good thing. God said so.

Living with a #FAIL in You and in Congregations

2012-01-07T09:01:00.000-08:00

Congregations in decline live in the midst of a self-fulfilling prophecy. They fear failure. They fear failure in their ministry, then fail to act on the opportunities in their midst. The ministry often takes a slow and painful descent into the abyss. This descent is mined with blame, doubt and despair. The descent is accelerated by a fear of failure.

Failure is magnified these days. With continual exponential expansion of communication opportunities, someone is ready to pounce on a failure for individuals, organizations and congregations. Tracking failures is a cottage industry--even big business (think tabloids), and a hobby. For Twitter, you only have to search for #FAIL and you have a quick view of the failures of the day. No one enjoys having their failures exposed in public, let alone among their family and friends.

There's nothing particularly church-related about the fear of failure that exists in any organization, although I think congregations have particular traits in their relationship with failure. I think there's different theological and emotional ammunition wrapped in a congregational ministry as we ponder the fear of failure. I believe the thinking develops like this--ministry is closer to God, then it must last forever, because God does not change (which is a loaded statement).

Seth Godin's post on being wrong highlights a tipping point. All of us are going to be wrong. You will make mistakes. I will fail. The tipping point is whether we are able to claim the failure proactively as fuel to learn, grow and seek the next opportunity to embrace. Godin ignites an excellent point that may shed light on the collective disappointment and anger with the U.S. Congress. No one is ever wrong, and all actions are subject to spin. No wonder Congress can't get any traction.

The Christian practice of confession and forgiveness can be informative for congregations, individuals or anyone else confronting their fear to act. Rooted in the ultimate failure in the cross (what a colossal failure of a chosen leader to be executed before he even had a chance to lead for a long time), Jesus resurrection from death frees us to confess our sin, failures and brokenness without fear of being abandoned by God. In confession and forgiveness we are reminded of God's faithfulness. We are free. If you are free, why worry about failure? It's going to happen. So if failure is going to happen, what are you going to do with it?

Bonus Bests for 2011: Topics That Hit Nerves

2011-12-31T10:26:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve will always be special to me. My wife and I have had some great dates on this date, one being one of our greatest dates of all time. Our first child was born on December 31, 2002. I'm naturally reflective on December 31. I skip the resolutions. I take a look back. I take a look forward. I do my best to live thankfully.

These two blog posts continue to get hits, even though neither was written in 2011. I want to share them with you on this reflective day for me.

1. Ten Commandments Mnemonic Used In Kids Sermon This post has nearly 1000 hits since I posted it in May, 2010, leading any other post I have made by almost 700 hits. I get at least 3-4 hits per week. I find this amusing for two reasons. First, it's enjoyable to see all the different spellings of "mnemonic" in web searches (pneumonic is my favorite). Second, most of the searches occur on Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings. Me thinks people are desperate for tools to teach the Commandments in Sunday School. I cannot take credit for this teaching tool, Nate Hanson, a Lutheran pastor in South Dakota shared this with me about 10 years ago, and I still use it to this day.

2. Remembering Dave Niehaus This was also a 2010 post. It still gets hits (it's in the top 5 for this blog all time). I still miss Dave Niehaus. Seattle Mariners fans know the gaping hole that was left in the culture of the region when Dave died in November, 2010. The popularity of the post reminds me how deeply people search when a loved one dies and how the soul is stirred. Someday Mariners broadcasting will move forward, but Dave will never be replaced. The scenario reminds me a lot of my 10 years in interim ministry.

Thank you for sharing with me in 100 posts for 2011. Happy New Year to everyone--blessings to all of you!

The Cosmic Significance of Jesus' Birth (John 1: 1-14)

2011-12-31T09:44:00.001-08:00

I remember sitting with my infant children in the wee hours of the morning and found myself pondering. I pondered the enormous responsibility of caring for a child. I pondered the smallness of each human being in the scope of the universe. John's gospel does not tell a birth story like Matthew or Luke (Mark doesn't even reference the beginning of Jesus' life), but John does place Jesus in a cosmic frame, "In the beginning." This statement calls to mind the introduction to Genesis. John does not completely dwell in the cosmos to tell readers and hearers about Jesus, but moves into the stuff of earth throughout the book. Jesus does not wave his hand to magically make things happen, but brings about redemption using dirt, mud, bread, wine and eventually his own blood. Jesus is significant in the cosmos, but also tangible and real. This is not often the Christmas story of a child's book, but John helps us to look into the heavens and know that God is passionate for you and faithful to you.

An Average Top 11 Blog Post List for 2011

2011-12-29T14:27:00.000-08:00

Creating a top 10 blog list for the year 2011 helps me reflect on the connection between good content in general and what I actually write. Good content is not necessarily popular content, but I believe good and popular should have some kind of relationship. I've never figured out that formula. Based on statistics of my most popular posts in 2011, I see a few things that touch nerves and lives. However, this list goes to 11, because Spinal Tap is sometimes a good example.

11. A belated, yet incarnational review of Carol Howard Merritt's "Reframing Hope" Carol is an excellent colleague in the best sense of the word. She's also a fine writer, a champion of encouragement for the church, and a visionary. Her writing is well worth your time investment.

10. Place matters--how do your surroundings affect how you see the world? This topic is raises passion in my blood--I think place affects faith and church in a significant way. How place affects faith and church is a big question. Scholars who study religion in the American West have been wrestling with distinctive nature of the West and religion intentionally in 2011, and will continue to do so. I hope to contribute.

9. Overrated in Congregational Life: Mission Statements In the past 2-3 years, I have gone almost completely sour on congregational mission statements. I'm not sour on congregational mission. The statements were all the rage in the mid to late 90's. I suppose the bigger issue is that congregations are looking for magic bullets for what ails them, and mission statements were the silver bullet du jour at the time.

8. My Experience with the Invisible Denominational Ladder I'm surprised this received so many hits. Maybe not. Some denominations (including my own ELCA) have an uncharted expectational flow for the vocational trajectory of its clergy. Move them up a ladder to congregations with bigger budgets and programming schedules, should they meet the unwritten expectations and requirements. After 10 years of watching call processes in interim ministry, I decided I didn't want to spend my life climbing. I may be striving, but I'm not climbing.

7. Still Interpreting a Teacher's Comment--15 Years Later I think a common desire of teachers is to learn in some way that they had a positive impact on a learner. Even when I don't always understand those interactions, relationships with teachers are some of the greatest of life.

6. Overrated in Congregational Life: Politics, Relationships, and Moving Forward with Church Office Space: Church consultant and master coffee roaster Kirk Jeffery writes about a sensitive topic for many pastors--office space. How much time should the pastor spend there? What is the best use of office space? How do these questions affect congregational relationships?

5. What Happened to Casting Lots? Sometimes the church is engaged in chronic over thinking. Maybe a biblical practice should be renewed.

4. Navigating debt and gratitude: a student loan milestone I have some colleagues and friends who are really hurting with student loan debt. We made decisions about student loans. They weren't necessarily the best ones. I know the pain--intimately. But I also made it through, with the generosity of many people. I hope my story can help others. It certainly hit a nerve.

3. Overrated in Congregational Life: Office Space This was my opening salvo about church office space, especially for pastors. For more on the subject, see #6.

2. The Interpretive Challenge of UNCO11 UNCO (unconference) is a literally wonderful concept and activity on so many levels--it cultivates creativity in the church and it builds strong relationships with God and neighbor, Holy Spirit and friends. The people I met at UNCO11 are some of the highest on my list for go to people for vocational life. I'm thankful my wife, Melanie tops that list. But UNCO people are up there.

1. A Litany of Farewell--A Ritual for Celebration and Forgiveness in Community Life I like to think I have a balanced understanding of ritual. I don't rely on it too much, but I respect it's mysteries. I think this is the number 1 blog post for 2011 because it recognizes the power of ritual in addressing something needed in congregational life--the need for confession, forgiveness and healing. These rituals in worship can become rote. In the context of saying farewell to a pastor, one of the central tenets of the Christian faith, forgiveness comes to life. If only pastor and congregation could confess and forgive more often, maybe the goodbye doesn't have to be premature.

Thank you for reading in 2011. I appreciate your time investment in my words. God's peace be with you.

A New And Personal Perspective On Time Off Closing Out 2011

2011-12-26T12:19:00.000-08:00

December 26th marks the first official time off since I began serving at St. John's Lutheran Church. This reality sounds strange on two fronts.

1. I am part-time. On average (I'm an expert on average) I work somewhere between 25-30 hours per week. Some weeks less, some weeks more. Sometimes I notice the difference. Sometimes I don't. I can care for my children and get them where they need to go. If I need a day or two during the week to recuperate, I can. If Melanie needs help, I can do it. If the household needs particular attention, I attend to it. If someone from the extended family calls for my assistance, I oblige. We have a little less money coming in, but our lives feel a little more sane. The only reason I'm able to serve church and family in this way is because my wife has a wonderful full-time call with the ELCA--a call she enjoys and to which she is well suited. If she's not in a good situation, things change. It's good to take some time away for perspective, but I'm not particularly exhausted. Advent and Christmas have been hard work, but I'm still upright and mobile, which leads me to my next point.

2. The notion of time off is different for me these days. I'm serving in a way I enjoy. I have the opportunity to try new things, stretch my thinking and prayer life. I think the people of St. John's are thankful these days because morale is up--the congregation was not far from closing in recent history. I believe there is recognition of the presence of God in the ministry, and people at St. John's take many opportunities to encourage one another in faith and serve their neighbor in a thankful and joyful way. We have outside volunteers leading St. John's, bishop-appointed trustees, that take away some of the burdens of leadership (mostly in the areas of financial and organizational management) and allow St. John's to focus on worship, spirituality and evangelism. In this climate, I feel like all parties involved aren't attempting to squeeze blood out of a turnip. In other words, congregations and pastors are often disappointed with each other because each is hoping to get more out of the other (trying to squeeze blood out of a turnip), or that one sees the other party as not quite giving enough. It is possible for pastors and congregations to have good relationship--and I have experienced that environment. My experience this time is unique for me because I feel like I can give of myself and my talents to congregational life that isn't attempting to live up to skewed congregational (or personal) expectations. In the environment of skewed expectations, vacation feels like a time to exhale and escape, and the vacation never seems long enough. This week, vacation is a time to rest, but it is more about perspective than anything else. I am thankful for my work, not merely for employment's sake, but because of the shared opportunity to give.

In 2011 both St. John's and I saw nebulous futures. Though we may not be able to predict the shape of tomorrow, I think we share a sense of thankfulness that I believe God blesses moving forward.

Merry Christmas and Blessed New Year.

God Is Not Looking For Important People (Luke 2: 1-20)

2011-12-25T18:54:00.001-08:00

In the way that we humans take in news and information, it's tempting to believe that God only loves and seeks out important people. With this view, it minimizes the gifts that God gives to each of us. In this Christmas message, the story of the birth of Jesus is a strong reminder that God loves and calls all kinds of people. The least likely candidates are brought to take part in what God is doing in the world. That person can be you as well.

Words Of Dread: Let's Have A Meeting (an ode to the December schedule change)

2011-12-23T06:36:00.001-08:00

On numerous occasions, people pity me as a pastor because I have so much work to do during Christmas and the holiday season.

Yes, I am busy (busy is a word I hate, but I'll play along). But most of the busy-ness is self-created in things I like doing in my own household and with extended family and friends, not because the church or congregation imposes more work on me in December. I've often contended that December is one of the easier months for serving the church. Why?

Unless a severe budget crisis looms in the congregation, people generally don't see the need to meet, at least not for the typical meeting. December can be a nice month in serving the church. In theory I can focus more on studying Bible texts and in prayer.

So the theory goes.

I've often contended that a pastor could actually work approximately a 40 hour week if it wasn't for the committee meetings (especially standing committees). Seth Godin reminded me today that one of two things should happen at a meeting--that I am ready to change or be ready to make a decision right there. Otherwise, the meeting is a waste of time.

My current congregation doesn't have any standing committees right now. If we ever have committees again, I like Godin's guidelines.

I know many of you have some frenzy in the next 24 hours, I invite you to consider from where the frenzy comes. Peace to you.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Can You Control The True Meaning of Christmas?

2011-12-18T14:12:00.001-08:00

(Sermon audio) 2 Samuel 7: 1-16 is a passage that tells of David's vision to build a temple dedicated to God. David has a noble cause, but the noble cause is encased in a cautionary tale. God will not be limited to our confinements or expectations. So why is it that we expect God to live up to our expectations when it comes to Christmas observances?

Disaster Tourists (Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11)

2011-12-14T11:47:00.001-08:00

If you're willing to pay the money and take the risks, you can visit the disaster site from the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear explosion. How could God possibly be at work in a disaster? Regardless of how you might feel about the ethics of disaster tourism, reading Isaiah 64 can give a disaster tourist experience. There can be a lot to learn from a disaster site. What if the disaster is in your own life?

There's No Such Thing as a Godectomy

2011-12-12T13:05:00.000-08:00

The "War on Christmas" and the debate to define the "True Meaning of Christmas" highlight a theological tension with American Civil Religion. I don't worry about whether a nativity scene can be placed on public property or whether a religious song can be sung at a public school. I am thankful to live in a place where I can publicly live out my faith. It's the theological tension I find troubling.

For civil religionists, Christmas is the front line of a battle. The premise--without particular expressions of Christmas, God is somehow taken out of the public sphere. I'm not at war. War monger all you like. Run me over if you must, but I'm not participating.

If there truly is a belief that taking God out of the public sphere is possible, what does that say about God?

If God is even fractionally as powerful as some humans testify God to be, how is "removing God" even possible? I don't think removal is possible. There's no such thing as a Godectomy. The thing I appreciate about Bible texts around Advent and Christmas is that God comes. There's nothing we can do about it, and whatever preconceived notions we have about who God is and how God acts, God still comes. Many folks at the time of Jesus' birth (and at the end of his life) did what they could to make sure God didn't show up, but to no avail. God is not going to be subverted by a group of people who don't want a nativity scene at Averageville County Park.

I think I'm better off paying attention to whether I'm aware of the activity of God in the world, rather than demanding God to live up to my expectations.

How Has God Changed Your Life? (Mark 1: 1-8)

2011-12-05T22:46:00.001-08:00

We are tempted to believe that Christmas is about what we do. Don't you have a lot to do? Does your list seem full of important activities that usher in the season? John the baptizer lets us know that with Jesus in our midst, what we do is not the focus, but what God is doing. With God being active in the world, then a changed life lets others know that God is active. Faith sharing then becomes an important activity in how God works in the world. What would you tell someone if they were curious about how God has changed your life?

Friday Arts YAP: Serving Up A Heaping Plate of the True Meaning of Christmas

2011-12-02T08:59:00.001-08:00

Every December, for the last 12 years since I was ordained, I have been sick. I end up preaching a sermon where I sound something like this kid. I contaminate Communion. I might as well give up singing. Even my die-hard near the front worship sitters find someplace else to sit, lest I cover them in the haze of hacking and sneezing.

It started making me think about Christmas celebrations and what they're about. Today's post is filed under "arts" because it is art that has caused me to be a ponderer about the intersection of Incarnation and culture and the stresses that lead me to illness.

+ Making sense of the melding family traditions of my wife and I and our families of origin.
+ Facilitating a faithful season of worship in the congregation I serve.
+ The call of Advent.
+ Concern for those who don't find joy in the season because of loss.
+ The sights and sounds of the culture--some cacophonous, some wonderful.
+ Public discourse and the attempts to define "The True Meaning of Christmas."

I've been hearing that phrase "The True Meaning of Christmas" for decades. It seemed good enough. Go to church, celebrate Jesus' birthday, be kind to people, help your neighbor. Eat and drink and sing a lot. I really enjoy it all. But it's also killing me. What was pushing me over the edge was the public discourse and "The War On Christmas." I have attempted to take on something wrapped in anxiety with my own anxiety-filled arguments.

What I've needed is some perspective and some healthier practices. I'll write about the healthier practices in the coming weeks. Today involves contributions from the arts. I offer these to you as pieces of scholarship, beauty, and perspective.

1. English Village Carols My brother gave this to me as a gift about 10 years ago, and I appreciate it more all the time. It's unlikely you'll recognize any of these Christmas carols, because they represent a "vigorous local tradition" in Northern England, particularly around Sheffield. According to music historian Ian Russell, these are not the songs of elite institutions of church or academia, but written by local laborers and craftspeople. The music is not overly produced, and not commercial radio-ready, but it is a strong witness to love of God and neighbor.

2. The Battle for Christmas, by Stephen Nissenbaum. I received this book as a gift last year. I have not completed it yet, but I can already tell it's going to appear in some of my sermons and writings. Nissenbaum is a history professor and Jewish. He confesses some of the Christmas envy of his life--even though he was not allowed to participate in Christmas, he found a way to do it by filling a sack of gifts as a child and giving gifts to others. If you want perspective on celebrations and the nebulous "True Meaning of Christmas," this is a fascinating read.

Here is my takeaway from my history with Christmas and the perspective I have received: Christmas may not kill me instantly, but allowing it to create a death by a thousand cuts is not a good thing either. Many people (including the church) love to offer solutions to the frenzy and stress. Celebrate Christmas their way. What I've learned from my two arts offerings that the problem with me and my fellow Western Christian humans is that Christmas becomes yet another forum where we exercise control. The English Village Carols groups had their music removed from the church because the leadership couldn't control it. Nissenbaum chronicles the Puritans' hatred of Christmas because they couldn't control it. A little perspective makes me laugh at the frenzy to define the True Meaning of Christmas. From that perspective, I can see that it is precisely for our control freakishness that God comes to us in Jesus, and then dies on a cross. God comes neither in a way that we expect, nor control.

God, have mercy. Let us be well, my friends.

You Lack Nothing (1 Cor. 1: 1-9)

2011-11-29T08:17:00.001-08:00

Our culture is formulated to focus on what we do not have. That focus helps drive the economy, and some would argue, our very lives. Would you believe it if someone told you that you lack nothing? If you did believe it, would that belief change your approach to living?

The Parable of the Good Samaritan and Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T16:00:00.001-08:00

The reality of American politics is that we live in 24-7 discourse. Because access and distribution of news has flattened (more contributors and consumers), the commentary and analysis does not end. I am thankful for this evolution in methods for understanding the world we live in. But I wonder what these changes have done to our political discourse. What function does that discourse serve? Does our understanding of truth become clearer? Do our political discussions give us a clearer understanding of how we live our lives?

One discussion that inevitably arises in American political discourse involves immigration and the place of immigrants in American society. What concerns me about political discussion related to immigration (and other topics, for that matter) is that the tenor of the discussion is antagonistic, with consequences of demonizing politicians (they're easy targets these days) or generalizing entire races or cultures.

I've been reading the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) as inspiration and education for my first months of ministry in a new context. Because this will be one of the first times in ministry I will live in the community I serve (I served in interim ministry for 10 years). I am looking at the context with different questions and a different attitude. I also think about this parable because of the traditional American Thanksgiving celebration. Like many traditions, the roots of our traditions are not as clear as we think. A few common aspects of Thanksgiving: a link to immigration, a gathering of different cultures, a recognition that being thankful is a good thing, and a recognition that food continues to be produced by the earth, which is an awe-inspiring feat of nature and labor. Christians see this activity as God-breathed.

I appreciate the questions that are posed in this exchange with Jesus and a "lawyer (one well-versed in Torah)."

What must I do to inherit eternal life?
What is written in the law?
Who is my neighbor?
Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?

First, because I ask myself the question often, "who is my neighbor?" I want to learn about the city, its people, and the land on which the city resides. In the city where I serve, two groups of neighbors are, we have different kinds of nomads: one group is here because they serve in the military, another group is multiple generations of Korean immigrants. Second, because Jesus instructs the lawyer as a teacher to be a good neighbor (go and do likewise). Marilyn Salmon persuasively articulates that we shouldn't assume that the exchange between Jesus and the lawyer is antagonistic, in fact there are clues to indicate that this is a respectful dialogue, especially in the lawyer's address to Jesus (teacher).

Part of the danger of antagonistic American political discourse is that we often graft an antagonistic discourse into other situations. Sometimes the Parable of the Good Samaritan has been seen as an antagonistic exchange between Jesus and a lawyer; I am persuaded to see that this is a conversation that seeks truth. The truth being sought involves the meaning of loving neighbor as self--showing mercy. I suppose we can digress and debate public policy theories regarding what constitutes mercy, but this is not what is going on in Luke. When I show mercy to my neighbors, I recognize the mercy that I have received from God in Christ. Sometimes that mercy comes from a place where it is least expected, as the character of the reviled Samaritan models mercy for the rest of us. For Jesus and the lawyer, mercy is not an abstract policy discussion, but an example about what it means to love God with all of our heart, and our neighbor as ourselves. Thanksgiving seems to be one of the best times to remember our nomadic histories, and mercy from unlikely and undeserved places.

Happy Thanksgiving--giving thanks for this day, and every day.

The Congregation Is Not Your Enemy

2011-11-16T10:41:00.001-08:00

I don't remember which teacher told me that the congregation is not my enemy. I needed to hear it.

Maybe I get confused about my role sometimes. I end up acting like I'm God or something like that (there's some biblical precedence for this) It's not unusual for pastors to self-identify with Jesus. Mark Allen Powell used to teach a lesson about how hearers/readers of the Bible identify with biblical characters. Pastors tend to place themselves in Jesus' shoes, more so than other readers/hearers.

My theory is that people (pastors included) invest their time in congregational life with some high expectations, and when someone or something doesn't meet those expectations, it's easy for the congregation to become viewed as the enemy--the people who would dare take down my grand plans. I think the expectations are elevated even higher for pastors, because the time and money invested is particularly high. Early in my years of ministry, I found myself easily derailed by Luddites, cranky people, gossips, and nostalgia champions. I missed out on opportunities to listen and learn. Rather than identify with Jesus, I should have looked for Jesus in my neighbor.

I wore that frustration on my sleeve, and in my warped thinking somehow the integrity of Jesus was compromised because things weren't going my way. I'm glad that a good teacher taught me that the congregation is not my enemy. Rather than be derailed by what appears to be a barrier, on my better days I have an opportunity to learn and connect.

If the congregation is not my enemy, that does not mean that I seek agreement at all costs. I am forced to get clear about my priorities, and be clear about the end result. Maybe the result can be reached if I am flexible about the means to reach that desired end.

Pro Athletes, Lottery Winners, Christ Followers

2011-11-14T09:49:00.001-08:00

Sermon audio for Matthew 25: 14-30.

How do humans often respond to an overwhelming gift or wealth? Stories abound of waste and loss. The church specializes in management and committees, which are often stories of burial. Who needs God? Take a look at our track record with overwhelming gifts...

Opportunity in Rememberance on Veteran's Day

2011-11-11T10:01:00.001-08:00

On this Veteran's Day, I think of my late Granddad, Gerald Francis Zubrod.

Jerry served in the US Navy on the USS Washington during World War II. His military service completely changed his family tree. Raised in rural Iowa, he saw opportunity on many levels via the military, opportunities he struggled to see in his childhood. After the war, he took his GI Bill funding and became the first member of his family to graduate from college (the University of Washington). In some ways I learned about God before I ever cognitively knew God. When we gathered many a Saturday to watch the Washington Huskies play football, Granddad would sometimes share stories about Iowa, the University of Washington, and his time in the Navy. I learned about possibility and opportunity when we gathered together. When I learned about the Parable of the Talents later in life, I saw that gifts are powerfully linked to a generous God. We are called upon to trust that the gifts God gives us to also be generous in God's name in the world.

Learning and growing and seeing possibilities became a way of life for my brothers, and Granddad was a huge influence. It's a mixed bag for military vets. Sometimes the family tree makes an abrupt end in military service, sometimes it grows and flourishes, sometimes the pain of what is experienced and seen become a weight too difficult to bear. May there be healing and thankfulness in all the veterans remembered today, and even for the veterans not remembered, for even in their anonymity does their service deserved to be remembered.

The world needs more philosphers: they helped me frame today's Penn State

2011-11-10T09:10:00.001-08:00

I have the greatest respect for philosophers. They have the patience and love of thought that allows them to frame complex issues of life in ways that I aspire to. I am thankful when I can engage them and gain insight for what I do as a pastor.

The only people I know with extensive training in philosophy both received their training at Penn State University, the school associated with the tragic and horrific abuse of several boys.

I've never met Brian Cubbage personally, but I have greatly respected his thoughts and ideas for some time via social media. If people wonder what philosophers do, my understanding of philosophy is writ large in his post regarding the emotion and pain of the victims of sexual abuse at Penn State. Cubbage frames the issues at hand with a wisdom that I have yet to see in all that I have read and heard in the past several days. My other PSU-philosophy-trained friend David O'Hara has shared his thoughts on these issue more on Facebook, and I have appreciated those as well. Dave's writing is a good time investment.

Sometimes pastors get the idea that we have to be the bearer of all wisdom when the most difficult questions and situations of life arise (maybe I should speak for myself). The image of the body of Christ is helpful here. Sometimes I do have wisdom to offer. But I also have friends who have been through the rigors of thought work like an athlete trains their muscles, and have the gifts to articulate the best thoughts and paths to action. The world needs philosophers in the Body of Christ more than ever. I am a big proponent "shipping" ideas quickly and learning from failures. But I also thankful for the philosophers who remind me that the body glorifies God when we recognize parts and gifts differing.

I Love The Church--It's The People I Can't Stand

2011-11-07T11:15:00.001-08:00

Considering 1 John 3: 1-3 and Matthew 5: 1-12, it's apparent why it is popular to talk about relationships in the life of the church. It's another thing to actually live out the relationships that Jesus and the community around 1 John espouse. It's challenging to see that as the church, we are the very instruments of God's love in the world, sharing God's blessing with people and situations that we would never consider a blessing.

Three Questions for Tired Congregations

2011-11-03T11:51:00.000-07:00

What is the size of your congregation board/council/vestry?

How many standing committees does your congregation have?

Why?

Rarely can I get a congregational leader to give me an answer to the why question. If there is an answer, it comes in a tepid variation of "it gets members involved in the church." In this purpose vacuum, the involvement goal spawns deeper black holes of larger boards and more committees, and leaders lack the courage to get climb out of mere involvement.

Involvement is a weak goal at best. With mere involvement, the congregation ends up serving the bureaucracy rather than creating a leadership system that helps the congregation serve its purpose, to make disciples of Jesus.

People in congregations are tired--both pastors and members. If children of God are to participate in the ongoing creation in God's world, take them out of management business, and give them an opportunity to create.

Stop serving the bureaucracy. Serve God and neighbor instead. It's actually harder, but a lot more fun.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Motor Ave SW,Lakewood,United States

Trust and Renewal (Psalm 46)

2011-10-31T15:58:00.001-07:00

Organizations and people often like the idea of renewal. The desire to regain a sense of vitality in life and and community is strong, and the marketplace offers more than enough techniques to achieve renewal. Those techniques may be helpful. However, without trust, renewal is fleeting. Psalm 46 is a song of trust in God, not directed toward an individual, but to community. Communities without trust in God or one another will struggle to experience renewal.

Human Motivation and Ministry Application

2011-10-26T10:16:00.001-07:00

This video illuminated my understanding of call to be a "redeveloper" in a struggling congregation. Several leaders I know thought I might want to be an administrator/senior pastor/larger congregation pastor.

Nope.

In my observation, many congregations in Mainline/Oldline Protestant circles operate like religious factories, and the pastors are set up to serve as mere cogs in those machines. In 10 years of interim ministry and consulting I saw congregations that wanted their pastors to be cogs in their religious machines over and over and over again. After serving in a few large budget congregations with some nice perks, I discovered I wanted no part of that culture. The job description was oppressive, and sometimes I found myself working for the proverbial weekend (be patient for the music). I have taken a call to serve in a congregation where I am paid half-time and work 3/4 to full-time, and I couldn't be happier with my work. There's purpose and freedom in the congregation I serve. There's still accountability and connectedness--I wouldn't be able to serve St. John's if it wasn't for my wife and her full-time call. I don't have to worry about several details because I have three trustees from sister congregations that invest in several management details. Maybe God and my partners in ministry will be able to build something more sustainable in the future. I'm thankful I have the opportunity participate. Salary is not the motivating factor in my work. A creative congregational culture is the primary motivator for me.

Sermon Audio: What do I expect from love? (Leviticus 19:1-18)

2011-10-23T14:55:00.001-07:00

When love is expounded upon in Matthew 22 and Leviticus 19, the expectation of love is not related to how I feel, but by who God is. Therefore love that is referenced here is not rooted in a particular emotion, but a by recognition of God's action. How that relates to our neighbor love is a reflection of God's action in the world. A principle part of God's creation is humankind created in God's image. That is the challenge of love, when I expect emotion, God expects that we act toward our neighbor with the understanding that the other person is created in God's image.

Sermon Sample Sunday: What do I expect out of love?

2011-10-23T07:00:00.000-07:00

Love is a popular theme in the Bible. There's an expectation of love.

What do I expect out of love?

An intensity of emotion. It's something I may not be able to quantify, but whether it's a movie that I'm watching, a piece of chocolate that I'm eating, or a date with my wife, I expect to experience a degree of emotional intensity.
If I'm directing love toward someone else, I expect to see some degree of joy in that person.
I expect to experience a sense of connectedness with someone else. Whether it's a project or helping someone in need, or working with my family--the idea that we share something in common is something I expect.
I don't like to admit it, but sometimes I expect something in return.

Saturday Sports Y.A.P.: The NBA, NHL, jilted fans, and church entitlement

2011-10-22T09:09:00.000-07:00

I've been giving my relationship with professional basketball the silent treatment.

If anything about the National Basketball Association comes across my ears or eyes, I look past it. I read something else. I engage in another activity. I'll read Leviticus if I have to (no offense to Leviticus scholars).

I am a jilted Seattle SuperSonics fan. They were the first team to reward my sports love with a championship in 1979 when I was 9 years old (okay, maybe it wasn't just for me). I went outside and danced in the streets of my subdivision with my neighbors after the big win. The Sonics always had a special place in my heart. After the team departed for Oklahoma in 2008, after the spectacle of failed leadership, of disingenuous deals, greed and politics, I chose the silent treatment in my relationship with the NBA. I refuse to acknowledge their presence. Some folks in Seattle continue to be NBA fans with heavy hearts. Some chose to respond with anger. Others chose to respond with endless analysis of the systems and people involved that produced the departure of NBA basketball from Seattle. My lips are essentially sealed.

Some people I read, watch and listen to have mentioned that the NBA is in a labor negotiation. I don't know the details. I still don't really care. The parties involved couldn't possibly expect any sympathy from the fan base. Look at the activities of the Tea Party and Occupy Wall Street. Look at the unemployment that hasn't been this high in decades. Who wants to read stories about millionaires and billionaires arguing about a game, especially when the integrity meter is at swamp level? If millionaires and billionaires want to argue about something that will be truly beneficial for people, argue until you're blue in the face. Sure, the NBA provides jobs for many people besides the players and management, but they have no voice at all in the negotiations. My caring doesn't mean much in this equation. So be it.

I broke my media engagement with the NBA recently. If there was anyone who was going to do it, it wasn't going to be the local Seattle metro sports or news talking heads. It was going to be Bill Simmons. Simmons has been the one national media figure (I would argue that he acted like a good pastor in many ways) who has consistently delivered emotionally, skillfully, humorously and analytically writing about how Seattle was hosed regarding the Sonics. I found some solace in Simmons' words. He continues being a NBA fan (he's from Boston and lives in LA), but he became a de facto Seattle advocate in the NBA world. Simmons named my pain, listened and legitimized that pain. I was tricked into reading his recent article because I thought it was going to be more about hockey and the NHL, but Bill Simmons is juxtaposing hockey and hoops to illustrate the issues with the NBA as an organization. The NBA has wrongly assumed that their fans will stick by them if they can't move forward in the midst of their problems soon.

No organizational loyalist should expect relational harmony and bliss all the time. Especially in the church. While I look at the NBA, I can't help but think of the church (well, it's what I do). I expect the church to strive for justice and live in the midst of human struggle. I expect there to be a lot of unease, because in the church we deal with life and death (well, it's what we do). What bothers me about conflicts in the church in this day and age on multiple levels is the sense of entitlement leaders of the church have (and I am one of those entitled leaders). We talk about people as commodities--we track worship attendance, baptisms, and demographics of all kinds. In the midst of how we treat each other in the church, we often look at society and blame the masses for not wanting to be part of our cantankerous little club, and that our numbers don't match our bloated sense of entitlement. People find other things to do.

I think about how I haven't watched more than 3 seconds of an NBA game in almost 4 years. I have found other things to do. No one is entitled to my participation or anyone's participation in a community. In church or in sports. That giving of blood, sweat, tears and allegiance comes from a delicate balance of trust and risk. I think "NBA" and "church" can be interchangeable words the equation about trust, risk, and allegiance.

Maybe this trust/risk/allegiance/entitlement equation is one of the reasons I am called to serve the congregation that I do. St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, had a near-death experience. They nearly had the votes to close in 2011. But they didn't. What I do see after 4 months of building relationships in the congregation is that the sense of entitlement I have seen in many communities of faith over the years is minimized (as far as I can tell). I think they've helped me get over my own sense of entitlement (to a degree). It's not a perfect congregation by any stretch of the imagination, nor do I think I am the perfect pastor to build a renewed congregation. But with a minimized sense of entitlement, we have some trust with which we can build.

Maybe God can still do something with us.

Minefields and opportunities in learning for pastors and congregations

2011-10-19T11:17:00.000-07:00

The field of continuing education for pastors and congregations presents both minefields and opportunities for reaching a goal.

What are the minefields:

1. Cost. My congregation was faced with an opportunity for an educational event for both me and 2-4 leaders from the congregation. I won't go into all of variables for attending, only that attending is about as close to being a "need" without actually being a need. The event is semi-annual, with the next event gathering in Houston, Texas. Round-trip airfare, tuition, hotel and other expenses, we were probably looking at $2-4K to make that trip. I pondered the opportunity cost for that trip for several weeks. I go to the training because it's part of my job, and the training does have value. For others, I'm asking individuals in my congregation to invest at least 4 days away from work and family.

2. Efficacy. I have heard some great theologians, teachers, leaders and preachers over the years at educational events. Some presentations were a waste of time. Sometimes this was the speaker's fault (delivery, under prepared), sometimes it was mine (I can have a bad attitude), sometimes it was the planner(s) of the event. Sometimes the responsibility is shared. Some speakers had a profound effect on me during that particular moment--it was something I needed to hear. I didn't necessarily require that person's words would profoundly change my life every day for the next 10 years, only that their insight was part of my overall sustenance and encouragement. It's like a feast. Feasts everyday can lose their meaning over time. Occasionally shared, feasts are the spice of life. I think about this when I reflect on events where I've heard Will Willimon, Sandra Day O'Connor, Martin Marty, and Maya Angelou. These kind of speakers draw people to come to conferences. These are wise people, and their words can be helpful and insightful. However, in my experience, these kinds of events don't necessarily elicit much change in my work. From some learning events I have returned home with some books, a binder full of materials, or have my email inbox filled with Power Points and documents. Rarely do I look at these documents ever again. That may be just as much about my habits as it is about educational philosophy, but I also know that I am not alone in owning a bookshelf loaded with books, boxes and binders holding the dusty hope of personal and organizational renewal.

After attending Unconference11 in May, the minefields of education became clearer to me about how I would invest learning time and resources in the future. Rock star quality speakers are not required (but hey, if they want to come and participate like everyone else, great!).

Where are the opportunities?

Connecting communication technologies (social media, blogs, web) provide key components to any learning and change opportunity. Learning is just as much about relationships as it is information. This is not an educational newsflash--many educational approaches gain leverage through relationships. However, I have observed that in church circles, there's still a lot of weight placed in bringing a big name speaker and implicitly inflicting death by Power Point for an educational event. The problem is, if I want the material I gain to truly take root, there needs to be relationship networks ready and available to take my enthusiasm as a convert and weave it in to the fabric of my life. #Unco11 #Unco12 #chsocm (specific Twitter linked communities) have provided access and friendships with other learners so that I gain support, insight, challenge, and an opportunity to share as well.

As I look at the minefields and opportunities for goal reaching in continuing education for pastors and congregations, I fear testing my own theories. I want to host an educational event. I believe that communication strategies for pastors and congregations are important in their work of sharing the Good News of Jesus. I don't need to host a big top event. It's time to trust the relationships I have built and that God will be present in not only where two or three are gathered, but will gather again as the relationships continue.

Jesus & the Common Denominator on Taxes (Mt. 22:15-22)

2011-10-16T17:02:00.001-07:00

Jesus talks about topics that are the fodder for news talk shows of all stripes. How is a follower of Jesus to think about taxes? Citizens of nations have debated tax structures for thousands of years, and Jesus doesn't engage in the debate. Why is that?

Sermon Sample Sunday: Jesus and the Common Denominator on Taxes

2011-10-16T08:21:00.000-07:00

When we read the Bible together, sometimes we have to do some interpretation gymnastics. None of us probably own any oxen, nor do we have many wives, own a vineyard, or use mustard seeds (most of what I know about mustard is from Gulden's and French's).

But taxes? I pay taxes and you pay taxes. Despite the direction of public discourse, we all pay taxes in some form. Is it right to pay taxes? Is it fair to pay taxes? How is tax money collected? How is tax money distributed? In our lesson from Matthew today, I found myself excited studying this passage. Jesus addresses a question about taxes. Finally. An opportunity to talk about something near and dear to our hearts. Our wallets. It doesn't matter whether we have a lot or a little money in our wallets, we think about them. If Jesus is going to talk about taxes, then we'll have some answers about taxes. Right?

Answers are desired these days, because anger surrounded taxes is at a generational high. Since the Gallup organization started collecting data about satisfaction with Congress in 1974, that percentage of satisfaction has never been lower at 13%. Regardless of party affiliation or age, people don't like what's going on in Congress, and directly or indirectly, what Congress does is related to taxes.

Over the past year or so, different groups (Tea Party, #occupy groups) have taken to the streets to proclaim dissatisfaction with the tax structure. Some have ideas what to do with the tax structure, others only want to let the rest of the country know they're angry.

Jesus' story communicates something that should resonate with his followers regardless of with what strain of dissatisfaction the observer sympathizes in society today. Jesus meets people who are trying to set a trap for him on the prickly subject of taxes. In the bigger picture, Jesus is talking about relationship with the empire, and taxes are the contact point of that relationship.

Give to Caesar what is Caesar's give to God what is God's.

We could go on and on about division of possession.

The key thought upon this division of possessions came from Russell Rathbun, a pastor in St. Paul. The empire cannot love you.

We have a relationship with an empire each and every day. We benefit from roads, schools, fire departments, police forces, military, parks, clean water to drink, and many other things. These associations are generally voluntary. However, the rub with empire is that the authority acts on our behalf sometimes against our wishes, but seemingly only for the good of the ruling authority--which is the definition of empire. Regardless of whether the empire's actions give us benefits or leads to anger, and we're able to get the empire to do what we want (and how likely is that?), the empire cannot love us. Jesus' response doesn't seem to call into question the existence of the empire. Jesus is nonplussed by the entrapping question. How could something like the empire deserve so much of our energy when it can't give love? Our baptism reminds us where the source of our love is, and where our investment belongs.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:18th Pl SW,Federal Way,United States

Where is the Social Media Gap for the Church?

2011-10-13T12:10:00.000-07:00

My tradition has a language problem.

When I surveyed (non-scientific) sister congregations (Mainline/Oldline Protestant) in the Pacific Northwest, I discovered that social media use was often spotty, lacking intention or strategy. What gives?

From personal experience and interaction with colleagues, I see that congregations have overworked and underpaid staff and clergy. Volunteers have limited time resources. Social media seems like just another thing to do. Many programs, ideas and fads have come along; "Church Revitalization In A Box" inspires initial excitement, only to sit on a shelf and gather dust. The church rummage sale comes along years later, people look at the box and wonder for a few moments about what could have been. Then they attempt to sell or give away something where thousands of dollars worth of time, resources and dreams invested.

The big difference with social media is that it represents a shift in communication method. We're not dealing with technique or infrastructure in the classical sense. We are dealing with basic communication of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Though social media will continue to change, its place in history will look like the telephone or personal computer.

At this point, you may think I am preaching to the choir. If you're reading a blog, it's likely you already place value in social media. From the perspective of a small or medium-sized congregation (for discussion purposes, 400 or less in worship) social media may look like anything else that has been marketed to a congregations for decades. Buy this, or do this, get trained in this and it will change your church.

I don't make any promises with social media. Social media can only reflect the basic practices of connecting with God and building community that are already present in congregational life. But the scars of the church growth movement for smaller congregations reveal that trying a new thing leads only to disappointment and envy; smaller congregations don't often have the resources to make an investment mistake.

The blessing of social media lies in that the infrastructure to participate is likely present. The gap that needs to be bridged is that small and medium sized congregations not already using social media can focus on specific "best" practices that can amplify what ministry is already being shared in that context. Without using the tools that are available, we lose our ability to participate in the public sphere in the name of Christ. It is my hope that I can share conversations with my fellow small and medium sized congregations about how we can collectively leverage social media to share what God is already doing among us. We need to be adept at language in order to do that. Language was a pillar of the Reformation, and that pillar remains just as important today.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:59th Ave SW,Lakewood,United States

Congregational Stewardship Not Made In October

2011-10-12T09:58:00.000-07:00

I don't need to look at a calendar, or even the weather to know the time of year.

Direct mail campaigns from public broadcasting, food ministries, charities and congregations let me know that I might miss my opportunity for a tax deductible donation unless I place a check or my debit card number on an envelope and mail it to that given organization (even easier to do online, and the organization would be glad to set up automatic payments). Often included with the envelope are statistics, facts or photos to remind me of the worthiness of investment.

I feel a little slimier each year during a congregational stewardship campaign. Why?

Not because I fear speaking about money like a preacher might be afraid to utter a four-letter word from a pulpit.
Not because I am afraid that people will be cantankerous about frequently asking for "their" money.
Not because it feels strange asking people on fixed incomes to increase their giving so I can have my annual raise.

Sometimes I have felt compelled to speak if only to drown out the misguided messages that could be shared by a variety of people in the congregation:

It takes $______________________ to keep the heat on during the winter.
If each household gave $______________________ more per month, we'd be able to meet our goal.
The congregation is failing, and people aren't giving enough.
Look at this congregational box score, our giving is bad.
The church needs the money.

Too often, pastors will speak about money because it appeases council/board members who are worried about the budget (for good reason) and it presses leaders toward knee jerk reactions in October.

Stewardship is not made in October.

October and stewardship have strong links in my tradition. I remember early on in my ordained life that I appreciated talking about stewardship in congregational life (I still do), not only because I have received good mentoring and teaching on the subject, but also because I have received so much from God and God's people. I want to live my life as a thankful person, and October seems an especially good time to say it. Programs are gearing up, there is a renewed energy toward learning, people are returning from their summer outings and appreciate the reconnection with friends. We have images from our history (and in rural communities, real and present) about the autumnal harvest time that inspire us about resource gathering.

Emphasizing relationships is a popular trend in this day and age of the church. One doesn't have to go far in my tradition before someone says, "it's all about relationships." Stewardship is also a reflection on the relative quality of relationships. A fall campaign for pledges doesn't mean much without relationships with God and others throughout the year. I say relative, because my late grandmother used to give money to television ministries. Why? They were with her in her home when she was home bound. At the time I couldn't understand why she would give a portion of her fixed income to TV preachers, but it makes sense. They were the presence of God to her. Their request matched their relationship. That relationship didn't seem like high quality to me, but to her, that ministry meant much.

It takes prayerful and faithful attention to strengthen relationships. There is no "Relationship In A Box" program with October crescendo that will spiritually produce a 7% budget increase. Without strengthening relationships with God and others, an October stewardship appeal doesn't mean much. People will invest their resources on what they value. Invest in relationships with God. Invest in relationships with others.

What is it in your community of faith that prevents that investment in relationships from happening? Share your comments, and these roadblocks will be covered in future posts.

Struggling with an if-then life (Philppians 4: 1-9)

2011-10-10T09:46:00.001-07:00

It's common in community and as individuals to look at our lives and say, "If I can make this happen, if I can buy this, if I can get this job, if my spouse can do this, if my children can behave in this way, if the church got this kind of pastor, if the carpet was replaced, if we had this kind of musician, if (fill in the blank), THEN things will be good." Paul, even though he was a champion of the church, didn't see things that way. Even in the most unfavorable of conditions (like prison), Paul found his joy in the God who went the greatest of lengths (even to death) to love the people of the world. To ween ourselves off of the unsatisfying desperation of an if-then life, recognizing our connection to God is paramount. Worship, Bible study, and encouraging Christian friendships are essential.

Sermon Sample Sunday: Congregational Vitality is not an Either/Or Proposition (Philippians 4:1-9)

2011-10-09T08:16:00.000-07:00

When congregations are experiencing decline or upheaval, the temptation is to turn inward. People will "navel gaze" and turn their attention toward their own concerns. "If we get our act together--organize our committees properly, get our budget in order, settle a few disputes, fix a few things in the building (that carpet is threadbare, by the way) then we'll be able to get things going in the church."

Congregational vitality is not an if/then equation. Nor is it for individuals. People are often lured into a understanding that says, if I buy this, if I get this job, if my spouse will only do this, if my children behave like this, then I will be happy. Dr. Phil likes to say to his listeners, "How's that working for you?"

In the Apostle Paul's letter to the community at Philippi, Paul lets them know that their happiness is not linked to what they strive for, but their joy is in God. This doesn't mean I am against striving. The statement is about where one finds joy. But this notion of joy from Paul is weird. I have a hard time finding joy in some of the most joyous circumstances. I can easily get crabby on a sunny day. Here is Paul, writing from prison, talking about joy. This is not merely a happy-clappy posture that Paul is taking on. This is not a case of avoiding "stinkin' thinkin'," but Paul links joy and the community being "in the Lord" and being together in one mind, referencing a situation in the community where there may be a lack of harmony between two of Paul's fellow athletes (a different translation of verse 3).

There is another either/or we confront in this portion of Paul's letter. The work of spreading the Good News outside of the community does not stop because of internal community strife. Paul's athletic reference may be helpful here. It may take a long time to become physically fit, but it doesn't take long to get out of shape. Our outward focus takes just as much work as our inward focus, and each direction of our attention informs one another.

Friday Arts Y.A.P.: How long must the show go on?

2011-10-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

The infamous tag for any television show is when it "jumps the shark."

The story line becomes tired. Characters that once compelled viewers to consider their own existence become caricatures of well-worn societal generalizations (the lovable loser father, the control freak mother, the driven urban professional). Writers resort to outlandish gimmicks in order to keep eyes on the show (which generally leads to advertising dollars). The Arthur Fonzarelli character on Happy Days executed a water ski jump over shark-infested waters. The gimmick signaled the end of the show, and become an idiom for the end of other production runs.

The Simpsons series has lasted well over 20 seasons, not necessarily because its characters remain compelling, but their interactions provide a context for good social commentary. The Simpsons is not as edgy as it used to be, but it doesn't have to be; the social commentary remains sharp to this day. It is possible that the characters are not capable of delivering the edge that they once did. It's not exactly revolutionary to have a smart-mouthed boy deliver insight anymore. South Park raised the smart-mouthed boy insight bar by staying off of major networks and by staying more current in its commentary.

I've found myself more attracted to shows these days with tighter story lines that can take more risks. Breaking Bad is a great example of a tight story line that will end without jumping the shark. Breaking Bad will end after 5 seasons with its fans wanting more. I love how this show has wrestled with death, human nature, vocation, and societal veneer. I'm sure some copycats will emerge, much like the new show Pan Am is related to Mad Men.

It's hard for me as a pastor to not look for links between life in my vocation and what I see in many kinds of cultural expression. I come away from the issue of longevity and television wondering if it's a good thing for a congregation to last hundreds of years. I can't deny that there's something about a church spire that pierces the skyline from a majestic building that communicates the transcendance of God--a place where truth and beauty meet. These builidings and congregations sometimes have longstanding trust with their communities. However, it's hard to avoid the downside of these institutions; they often become museums, albatrosses to living faith.

I think it would take great courage for a congregation to end its ministry after 20 years; it would take great courage to say--it's been a good run, we've proclaimed Christ, we've served our neighbor. Let's break this up before we jump the shark. Let's take the assets and gifts, and provide the fertilizer for something else to grow. It's not about our legacy, but about Jesus. It was hard not to think about this as Paul regarded all of his privilege, pedigree and accomplishment as rubbish in last week's reading from Philippians 3. How much of our desire for our congregations is about maintaining our own legacy and dodging mortality rather than sharing Christ?

How long must our own show go on?

Steve Jobs gave me early lessons in branding & creativity

2011-10-06T14:27:00.000-07:00

There's no way I'm going to out geek the Apple geeks in their laments and thanksgivings for the life of Steve Jobs.

My life is better because Jobs shared his creativity in a way that inspired me to be creative. He gave (well, sold) me tools that helped me see in a concrete way what is possible. For all of the technical things I can't do, I can use a tool that gives me access to the world.

In the summer of 1979, I had the opportunity to go to computer camp. I had a good year of math in school (makes me wonder what happened later on), so I qualified for a camp in Seattle. I learned and played on computers for the first time in my life. That computer was an Apple II. I have since used Apple computers and products with a tech exclusivity since then (with some brief use of what was available to me at work--ugh). The camp was a lesson in branding. Show a 9-year old an experience and a logo, and you have them for life.

Apple products remind me something of what I hope for in the church--a point where the gifts of God are amplified. The problem with the PC for world with me was that I had to know something special in order to participate. With Apple, I could always jump right in. I know Jobs had something to do with that--an amazing combination of talent, skill and vision that has accompanied me in my life for 32 years. It will be interesting to see where Apple goes from here. But today, I give thanks for what Steve Jobs shared with the world.

Post Script--One thing I recognize about Apple products is their high cost. Jobs wasn't running a ministry or a charity. He developed products that people wanted and were willing to spend money to acquire. I have the financial means to be able to use these tools that Jobs' leadership helped create. Access is always a tenuous variable. Bill Gates' company spread computer use throughout the world with lower prices and the pervasiveness of their distribution chain. Access seemed limited because one seemed to require special knowledge to use PCs effectively. Jobs and Apple created higher priced products that were easier to use (I remember an ad campaign for Apple "the one that gets used"). This conglomeration of variables reminds me that barriers to access are everywhere, and we all seem to have different abilities to overcome them. But we all die eventually. The great equalizer.

Am I the Sum of my Accomplishments? (Philippians 3:3b-14)

2011-10-04T10:36:00.001-07:00

Sermon audio from St. John's Lutheran Church, Lakewood, WA, October 2, 2011.

We humans tend to place effort and priority on what is "mine." The subject never really changes for us, only the object. It goes from things in our childhood (sometimes adulthood) to accomplishments during adulthood and eventually legacy toward life's end. It's tough to learn what is enough. Good thing that God's claim of "mine" on you is the most powerful claim of all.

Sermon Sample Sunday: Am I really the sum of my accomplishments?

2011-10-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

When my children were toddlers, in early months of understandable speech, I welcomed each new word in their vocabularies with joy. Even the word "mine."

Mine is a curious word, because it stirs passion. Our possessions mean something to us. But mine also reveals some of our greatest shortcomings as human beings. After welcoming the word with joy, I realized how difficult it would be to teach sharing to my children. The response to almost any interaction with my toddlers at the time was "mine!" Even with a filled diaper.

If the only barrier to sharing was child-like immaturity. I also realized I'm not the greatest sharer in the world, either. Some things are easier to share than others. Sometimes when Jesus shares something of himself, even his very life, it's easy for me to say, "Well, that's Jesus. Certainly admirable. Certainly something to strive for. But impossible for me."

Paul in his words from Philippians 3 regards all of his pedigrees and accomplishments as garbage. His identity is in Christ. When it gets down to it, I know that my identity is not in my possessions. They come and go. But my memories? My accomplishments? My pedigrees? Sure, some of those memories and "accomplishments" I would like to let go. There's that my/mine word again. Seems I haven't progressed past my toddler years as much as I thought.

The point is not that I flog myself about the good things that have come my way in life. I can even find some joy in them. But that cannot be where my identity is, lest I forget how many people have come together in order that I experience that joy. My identity is in God who claimed my life in Christ. I may never get over my impulse to mark territory and proclaim "mine." Good thing God's claim on me (and) you as "mine" is the most powerful claim of all.

Saturday Sports Y.A.P.: Where to fight the battles

2011-10-01T09:53:00.000-07:00

During my first few Sundays serving a congregation, I learned the importance of the Green Bay Packers.

I discovered within the first few months in my congregation that if the service time came close to kick off, people would get up and leave to go watch the Packers. It didn't matter what was on the church schedule, Bible study, coffee hour, a fellowship event, or worship. I remember one Sunday in the middle of Holy Communion, someone said "Packer game," and about 5-10 people got up to leave. I was caught off guard, yet wanted to learn about this cultural dynamic. I came to admire that people didn't blow off church completely before a Packer game, which would have been easy to do.

Any pastor should be aware of local culture, which can include any way that people gather and invest their time in family, friends, hobbies, vocation, or in gatherings of people. Any pastor who believes they can facilitate community by attacking what people do outside church, they are fooling themselves.

I walked around Wisconsin towns and learned about the extent of Packer culture. I saw a Packer Jeep, Packer riding lawn mowers, pastors who owned Packer stoles, the Packer Pope and the coup de grace, for when a Packer fan leaves this world--the Packer casket. I shouldn't have been surprised that people would leave during Communion for a Packer game.

I've been known on occasion to elevate a sporting contest on my priority list. Who is to say where something belongs on a priority list? We all have our split allegiances. The question becomes, what is really under my control? In a congregational community I feel it's my responsibility that people get the most out of their time investment. I can control meetings starting and ending on time. My sermon can be well-prepared and get to the point. I can offer something of value for daily living when I teach. I can be thankful when people invest their time. I can offer encouragement for people in their toils. The greatest battle is often in myself. It's easier to blame split allegiances, but I have just as many as the next person.

Why do people give their allegiance to a sporting event or sports team? If you go to a sporting event, there's something liturgical about it...Go! Seahawks! Go! Huskies! Go! Packers! Each side of the stadium has their role. Sometimes the congregation at the stadium will break into song.

The brilliance of some theologians and missionaries is that they recognized that God is already at work in their communities, and it's not the preacher/missionary/theologian's responsibility to bring God to a particular location, but recognize the places where God is already at work. Sometimes that might even be in a stadium.

Friday Arts Y.A.P.--Music with the Kids

2011-09-30T10:56:00.000-07:00

I could not survive The Wiggles. I would've gouged my eyes out.

Several years ago while visiting a friend, I found his children were addicted to the Wiggles. Wiggles on TV, Wiggles on DVD, Wiggles on CD, Wiggles on the radio. I admire the Wiggles' spirit of entrepreneurship; I also admire anyone who can make a living as a musician. Some may want to debate whether the Wiggles are musicians, but my definition is broad. They make music.

Based on my Wiggles ear worm experience, I decided in my parenting strategy that for shared survival with my children, we would engage my musical collection. We sometimes gravitate toward their requests. I continue to be fascinated by what they choose when they make a song request. I have some categorized observations about their musical enjoyment. They're not neat and tidy, but I think this sums it up.

+ Experience matters. If they attend a concert or see a movie with a memorable soundtrack, they want to hear the song again.

Lipps, Inc. "Funky Town" This song was passed on from my generation to the next via Shrek 2. It is known as the "Shrek Song" in my house. One day while driving in Seattle, I asked my daughters what city we were in. My eldest daughter responded, "Funky Town."

Hey Good Lookin' My family attended a concert by The Wilders this summer at the historic Raymond Theater, in Raymond, WA. My youngest daughter was especially enamored by the Hank Williams cover tune and can be found regularly singing it around the house. Both daughters also recognize the Wilders whenever they show up on my music shuffle. It was a good experience on the whole because we also spent two days playing at the ocean before we went to the concert.

+ A lyrical or musical hook matters. Sometimes one particular line from a song will register with my daughters. Genre doesn't seem to matter as much as the imagery.

Whiskeytown "16 Days" Everyday for about 2-3 months, my youngest requested this song, which she knows as "Running Ghost." Repetition with a good musical hook can burn a song into daily living. For all of the critique they receive in my church circles, praise song writers know what works. Apparently Ryan Adams is aware of this, too (though I think he uses the tool much more effectively).

Great Big Sea "General Taylor" This song inspires some of the most robust singing I hear from both daughters, triggered by the lyrical (even liturgical) hook "walk him along, John, carry him along."

+ Imagery matters.

Blood, Sweat and Tears, "Spinning Wheel" Not only does a spinning wheel image resonate in this song, but I think the painted pony reference works for my daughters as well.

Captain Tractor "The Last Sasketchewan Pirate" Though pirates are serious business these days and a security awareness for US military, we have a romantic relationship with pirates on all levels of culture. Did you participate in Talk Like A Pirate Day? This song is also a favorite, so much so that we made a special pilgrimage to the North Branch of the Saskatchewan River in Edmonton to look for pirates, because the river was beginning to thaw, and they might be getting ready for their plundering.

+ Sometimes children's music finds its way into our rotation. It doesn't have to be Wiggles-esque, either. Elizabeth Mitchell has some great music for kids, and her CD's always have something for the adults (including a great cover of The Velvet Underground's "What Goes On").

What I've learned from music and parenting is something that has been discovered by several Christian education professionals (Rich Melheim at Faith Inkubators, for example) is that we too often segregate our experiences on many levels. What was originally a selfish motive in avoiding The Wiggles has become something I look forward to sharing. Yes, we need time with our peers, but the multiplication of learning through music across generations has enriched my relationship with my daughters.

Take your pick: movement or institution?

2011-09-29T10:48:00.000-07:00

Is it better to be part of a movement or an institution?

Once again, Seth Godin has me thinking about factories. During this time of economic restlessness and ennui, some call for America to return to its industrial revolution days and make things. When America made things, many people had steady paychecks and pensions. Middle-class America worked hard, saved money and many sent their kids to college, trade school, or set their children up for a good life. Institutions felt safe.

The church participated in the world of factories, too. In my Lutheran church world, good children of Northern European immigrants worked hard, canned vegetables and fruit, saved their money, and sent their children to Lutheran colleges (hat tip to Garrison Keillor to help me understand the cultural history of my tradition), which theology and religion departments served as factory feeders for Lutheran seminaries. That world was changing when I attended a Lutheran seminary in the 1990's; we were told that demographics were shifting, and more seminary students were coming from state colleges and universities than every before, quickly approaching 50 percent. I remember there were adjustments to the factory. Paul Sponheim told one of my classes that he used to be able to count on seminary students having a solid background in philosophy, but no more. He adjusted by giving a 2-3 lecture survey of philosophy. There was some flexibility in the institution, but it was hard.

I became a pastor/product of a Lutheran seminary, prepared to enter other smaller factories including the ELCA Board of Pensions, Thrivent Financial for Lutherans (formerly Aid Association for Lutherans and Lutheran Brotherhood), and a series of congregational factories producing meetings of all kinds, including Women of the ELCA, church councils, Sunday School, and a whole host of committees. The idea was that if I faithfully participated in all of these institutions, I will be assured to have money to live on after my working days are done.

There are still places where the factory/institution of church still exists, and often times it is supported by the culture or demographics. Sometimes the institution is supported by hard working and intelligent leaders. However, in many places (I live in one of these places), Lutheran and other Mainline/Oldline Protestant traditions are part of crumbling institutions; there is no guarantee of security for any pastor or church professional. Some of my colleagues long for the institutional days of security. Some are angry at the culture. Some are angry at other colleagues for making the church what it is today and question their faithfulness or their understanding of theology or tradition.

One of my good friends and colleagues invited me to a discussion about 5 years ago regarding his tradition. He was part of a relatively new tradition, full of passionate people and congregations. People had toiled and worked tirelessly to develop a movement of grace, hospitality and justice. Some people who had been working in the grass roots of the movement were concerned about the continuation of the movement for generations to come. Pensions, health insurance, and constitutions became part of meetings and regular discussion. What was once a movement was becoming an institution. What was once full of energy, passion and care became meetings with minutes and boredom.

What happened?

I am not writing today to decry institutions. I am curious about society and the church of which I am a part, and our over-dependence and skewed expectations of institutions to make life good. I appreciate many institutions in my life that helped provide for me in my life. From government safety nets, to church organizations, to educational systems and to congregations, I am thankful for the generosity of God and the collective work of many. The problem is that institutions exist to self-preserve, and my understanding of following Christ is that our attention is directed toward God and neighbor, and that our institutions, at least in the understanding of Christian faith never exist for the sake of themselves, only that they turn our attention toward God and neighbor--that is a movement.

Are movements and institutions mutually exclusive? Can an institution behave like a movement or beget a movement? After my first season of ministry (about 12 years) studying and being the church as an institution, is it possible to be the church as a movement? Do movement-minded people abandon the institution? Do institution-minded people shun the movements? I do not know the answer to these questions, but I do know that my desire for security sometimes keeps me from challenging myself and others (wouldn't want to risk my pension), so I am willing to uphold the church factory system while I happily attempt to break through it. We don't live in a factory society anymore, but my fellow citizens and I behave like we do. The big problem is, regardless of institution or movement, I am a person of mixed motives and allegiances. But I also know that God does something even with the mixed motive people. Thanks be to God.

Issues With Authority (Mt. 21:23-32)

2011-09-26T07:23:00.001-07:00

Authority is a funny thing. We like to question it, hold it, claim it, tear it it down, deny it in others and abuse it. if someone tells me they like authority, I think they're a little weird. But I don't know many who are generous with authority. Jesus is generous with his authority, and he only strengthens it in doing so.

Shiny, happy, clergy people: my story

2011-09-23T10:35:00.000-07:00

Even though the pay tends to be low and the hours tend to be long, pastors topped the list of having the happiest jobs in the country. Pastors in my colleague circles strutted around like peacocks for a few days. The feathers went into hiding as quickly as they came out, lest they appear too proud. For pastors, it's this odd combination of fear of sinful pride, Murphy's law, tempting fait, superstition and for some Lutherans, Scandinavian influence.

Am I happy as a pastor? Am I a shiny, happy clergy person (had to give recognition to the end of a musical era for me)?

Well, it depends. I've judged a lot of my life based on how I feel when I get up in the morning. I generally like what each day brings. A mentor of mine used to tell his congregations, "if I'm not at least 75 percent happy in my work, I'm going to resign. Just so you know." He realized that a 25 percent crap load seemed reasonable, and came with the territory. More of a crap load wasn't worth it, no matter what the pay. The man had had cancer, and wasn't going to sacrifice joy for work at that stage in his life. I haven't expilicity embraced that axiom as a pastor, but implicitly, that principle is influential in how I look at vocation.

I started a PhD program about 10 years ago, and dropped out after 3 years. I started because I loved learning, and had become adept at collecting degrees and certificates, so it seemed to be the next logical step. I also found that I have a love for minutae in a variety of topics, especially sociology and geography. I stopped that trend of degree collecting because the return on investiment looked skewed. The decision wasn't merely about return on investment, but also the opportunity cost of the degree at the time. I also started the program because I had some unnamed concerns about being part of a church factory (more on that below).

Today my 4 year old daughter asked me, "Daddy, do you not go to school anymore? Are you all done?" I told her that I'm not going to school right now (I like to keep some options open), but that it's always important to learn. I strive to learn each day.

This learning variable for me is the key to joy in my life. Even though a pastor's life is in principal about learning and faith, it doesn't always turn out that way. On several occasions, I have been a part of what could be seen as a church factory. The goal of the church factory is to have a lot of meetings, meetings to plan more meetings, or lament that the church isn't having the right kind of or enough meetings, or insufficient meeting attendance. The church factory is often more about familiarity and status than God or Chrisitan discipleship. So I gave up the factory and the security of it so I could learn, build (physically and relationally) and create--some of the building blocks of creating a movement in the name of Christ. I have time to learn, something I struggled to do when living and working in the church factory. The church I serve has little status or financial security, but space to learn and create with passionate people.

The short answer to the happy clergy person question is yes, I am a happy clergy person. I have space to create, build, learn and connect. I know that this equation is tenuous, because I know clergy who are not happy, for a variety of reasons, and situations can change. But my 4-year old daughter's question reminded me where I find my joy. Thanks, Ashling.

Post script: I should add that in my experience, a church factory isn't related to size of the church. A church factory could be a small, medium or large church. Factory is a function of attitude.

God's Generosity Transforms Commodity Equation (Mt 20: 1-16)

2011-09-22T20:04:00.001-07:00

In a parable of workers and a landowner, Jesus tells a story of transforming generosity. However, the workers would prefer something closer to what we might know as a pyramid scheme. Each of our lives have been transformed by the generosity of another. Christ was generous to the point of his own death.

Spiritual, But Not Religious: Local Differences May Apply

2011-09-19T15:34:00.000-07:00

Lillian Daniel, a United Church of Christ pastor in Illinois, recently played a page from one of my favorite authors, Seth Godin.

She catered to the passionate.

I doubt this rhetorical approach was intentional, but Daniel's recent commentary on the segment of the population known as "spiritual, but not religious" stirred passion (including my own) across the interwebs addressing public relgion discourse. I had not seen such wide response to any topic in religion among my circles in a few years. Some topics in religion gain more notoriety, usually related to extremist postures, namely Westboro Baptist and Pastor Terry Jones on one end of a continuum, and Christopher Hitchens on the other end. These public figures tend to be the influence leaders in public religion discourse; their conversation paths are well-worn, drowning out thoughtful inquiry about the relationship between faith, religion and society. To find a wedge by catering to the passionate without extremist posturing, Daniel did exceptional work.

To be fair, Daniel has a lengthier post that is not quite as inflammatory addressing the same topic. It still caters to the passionate on a compelling sociological trend. Religion researchers for years have widely studied the demographic and sociological data related to relgious movements. With a growing fascination in more recent years are the anti-movements on the religion spectrum, people who disengage from religious participation. They have been known as the "Nones" or the "spiritual, but not religious (SBNR)." Daniel taps into some indignation about the commonly dreaded airplane conversation about religion. She let her audience know of her boredom with this increasingly common demographic, exhibiting a degree of indignation related to a lack of perseverance toward community. Daniel's use of boredom illicited two response trends--one saying "Amen!" The other was "but all people deserve an opportunity to connect with a religious community regardless of their attitude, and her proclamation of boredom with the SBNR crowd is not becoming of a Christian." I tend to side with the latter response, but I had to let my initial knee-jerk reaction settle a little bit more.

I believe that Daniel's use of rhetoric is admirable considering her audience. She's writing/speaking to Mainline/Oldline Protestants who continue to exhibit a degree of disorientation about their place in society. I believe that the crux of the message to her audience is that community is hard and takes thoughtful and prayerful work. There are no short cuts or community-in-a-box programs that will build strong Chrisitian relationships and groups. For those who have disengaged from religion, there is probably a story along the way (sometimes shared on airplanes) of a wound or two (or more) inflicted by a congregation, pastor, fellowship group, etc., which caused that relationship to fray and eventually sever. Sometimes congregational systems overemphasize peace and harmony at the expense of the difficult work of redemption and restoration. I believe it is an appropriate message to Mainline/Oldline Protestants that community is hard, but the benefits are worth the work. However, I'm not sure that the affirmation of the challenge of community should be over and against the SBNR demographic.

From a sociological standpoint, I think it is detrimental to relgious public discourse to paint the SBNR demographic picture with minimal brush strokes (God-in-the-sunset-love and fear of commitment). Many different variables come into play. Regional differences and other demographic variables can affect what SBNR means. There is a difference between the responses about Daniel's writing in Christian publications and websites and an internet journalism (Crosscut) commentary based out of Seattle. The Crosscut commentary reflects (anecdotally) the open religious marketplace that is the Pacific Northwest, which happens to be my particular context. Religion can work like politics and real estate; you can ignore local idiosyncracies, but at your own peril.

The core of what bothered me about Daniel's presentation depicts a prevalent attitude of "liberal" Christian church leaders observed by University of Washington religion scholar James Wellman in his research of Mainline/Oldline Protestants ("religious liberals) and Evangelicals in the Pacific Northwest:

"...while liberal leaders might complain that the [Pacific Northwest] had no tradition of church going and tended to discount organized religion per se, evangelical leaders would often comment whith excitement about untapped opportunities in the region." James K. Wellman, Jr. Evangelical vs. Liberal: The Clash of Christian Cultures in the Pacific Northwest p. 49.

Daniel's experience echoes some of my interaction with leaders in my Lutheran tradition in the Pacific Northwest (even though Daniel's congregation is in Illinois) that somehow the Christian church is entitled to a place in society as a beacon of example for what it means to be community (these PNW examples are for another post). Again, I think local conditions apply--that kind of trust of a congregation in a community must be earned, not assumed because a congregation has a steeple that pierces the skyline. I know the congregation I serve is not for everyone. But I also appreciate the opportunities I have to connect with my neighbors and proclaim the Christ I know with my words and actions. It's possible I may show that I'm bored with someone's faith experience on occasion, but I also appreciate the opportunity for redemption with my neighbor.

Organizational Commodity Indexes (Church Included)

2011-09-13T09:25:00.001-07:00

Do you have a commodity index in your church or organization?

This past Saturday, my congregation hosted a booth at a large city gathering as an opportunity to say thank you to military and civil servants (Lakewood Salutes). We saw an opportunity to connect with neighbors; we set up shop and gave away microwave popcorn ("pop on over to a worship service at St. John's!"). Later in the day, with increasing daytime heat, we gave away cold water. With a box and a stack of 3x5 cards, we collected the prayers of anyone willing to share their concerns, promising St. John's would lift them up.

We were surrounded by many different kinds of vendors, many honest business people sharing what they had to offer in the public square. For some people in business, the pressure is on to collect names, give away items, persuade people to make a purchase, become a member, make a donation. These actions are inherently bad. Businesses participate in these actions, as do non-profits, clubs, ministries and congregations.

The danger for any of these organizations is than the people with whom they encounter easily become commodities. Because I work in the church, I can tell you what the commodification of people looks like in the church.

Your average Joe Smith walks in the door (tee hee) to Twelfth Lutheran Church in Medianville. Twelfth Church has a lot going on for years, but in the past few years, things have been slipping a little bit. Sunday School teachers are in shorter supply. There's a fairly small, yet slowly expanding list of vacancies on a variety of boards. The offering collection is down.

People get anxious. The mortgage has to be paid. The Sunday School classes need to be a reasonable size for the teachers. The windows need to be replaced. The staff needs to be paid fairly (but you know, maybe they're being paid too much for the trajectory of the congregation--hey, let's talk about that at the next board meeting--or better yet, let's talk about it in the parking lot, or at the café, or on the golf course).

That average Joe Smith that walks in the door starts to look like fresh meat to the congregation. He could serve on a board! Joe could mow the church lawn! Joe could teach Sunday School! Maybe he knows how to fix stuff! I wonder how much money he puts in the offering plate...

None of these ways of serving local congregations is bad. They're all good. The problem is that people know when they're means to an end. That Joe Smith knows, too. I have been reminded in many different ways over the past few months about the damage that is done to a church and organization when people are viewed as commodities than recognized and valued in that they are made in the image of God. In the church we have created institutions at the expense of the relationships--and people know it. Even though people sometimes willingly participate in their own commodification, no one finds joy in being a commodity, traded and treated like cattle. This is never the initial intent in any organization, but anxiety can turn the tables, often subtly.

What is the commodity index in your church or organization? Are people the means to an end? To what degree is this true? Are people inherently valuable for who they are as someone created in God's image? To what degree is this true? The answers to these questions will give you some idea of your Organizational Commodity Index.

Post Script: Measurements in your organization are not inherently bad, either, but as a tool to understand your relationships, or (dangerously) another way to see people as commodities.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Motor Ave SW,Tacoma,United States

Still interpreting a teacher's comment--15 years later

2011-09-12T12:58:00.000-07:00

Last month, I started podcasting my sermons (I apologize to any regular followers this week, tech difficulties prevented last Sunday's audio). This has forced me to listen to my recorded voice, which is far from a pleasant experience. Listening to my own voice bring memories from seminary to the surface.

Both of my preaching professors had distinct senses of humor, more so than my other professors. Maybe that's why they were preaching profs in the first place. It wasn't unusual for most of the burgeoning preachers to come in as a completely unformed slab of clay, waiting to be shaped. My teacher loved to offer quips about the art of shaping preachers. He used to say that the end of each academic year, he would travel to his lakeside cabin where it was completely quiet, and stand on his head for a week. He wanted all of the student sermons swimming around in his head to flow out of his brain, and out through his ears into the earth so he could come back in the fall to take in more sermons.

I couldn't ascertain whether my teacher called me Josephus because he had hope for me as a preacher, or that he was trying to make my name a little more interesting (I know the feeling). Toward the end of the term, he looked at me after one of my sermons and said to me, "Josephus, you have a voice that can weld." To this day, I'm not sure how to take that comment. Is my voice powerful? Does my voice bring metal together? Or is my sermon delivery as such that you need protective clothing and not look directly at it, lest you singe your retinas and/or flesh?

Putting sermons further out into the public sphere creates an interesting dynamic. Churches are public places; though as my teacher Pat Keifert has often said, we often treat our worship spaces like family homes rather than public places, much to our detriment. A message seems easier to control in the confines of a family home--but what of mission and the Great Commission?

Putting my sermons even more out in public still feels risky, especially when I'm trying to figure out if this welding voice of mine is a good thing or a bad thing.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Bridgeport Way SW,Lakewood,United States

Jesus & A Vision for Restored Relationships (Mt. 18: 15-20)

2011-09-06T14:08:00.001-07:00

We live a life surrounded by broken relationships--in families, in congregations, in communities, between races of people. Jesus offers a vision for restoration--which is hard. Jesus' life reveals the great lengths to which God will go to restore relationships...can we see it? Can we live it (sermon from September 4, 2011)?

Staring off into the clouds (of witnesses)

2011-09-01T11:36:00.000-07:00

Today I've been working with theory and practice related to sociology of religion. I love this stuff. Almost can't get enough of it. Especially when something happens in the daily activity of ministry, and I visualize a constructing bridge cantilevering over the chasm between academia and ministry. Three hours of thinking, posting, praying, reading. It felt like 15 minutes. I was in a zone, in a place for me where I know the Holy Spirit resides. It doesn't get much better than that for me.

Today was also the day my oldest daughter had her first day of school. I remember watching The Cosby Show as a kid and the celebration Cliff and Claire Huxtable used to have on the first day of school. I was feeling that. I love my daughter, and I will miss her while she is at school in a matter of days. A little lost in the shuffle is my 4 year old, who doesn't start preschool until next week. She kept coming in to talk to me (as she is prone to do) while I was giddy with idea flow, and I was too dismissive of her conversation. I looked to the heavens for a little insight, and I remembered a teacher of mine who spoke to me from the cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12:1).

The cloud of witnesses are supposed to be the heroes of the faith. This was not my favorite teacher, one that often perturbed me. However, I remembered some wise words I received about how he was once taught that church life and pursuits always came first in ministry, and following that was the most significant regret in a life of ministry. The cloud of witnesses and the Holy Spirit directed me to get on my knees, look my daughter in the eye and say "Let's play a game. How about Candy Land?" I was moved to think about how she moved into the cloud of witnesses. That cloud allowed me to be thankful for the joy in the presence of God, joy in the flow of ideas, and joy in the simple connection of the moment. All in the midst of things that could have just as easily annoyed me. Thanks be to God.

"You know you've arrived when..."

2011-08-29T12:08:00.001-07:00

Sermon based on Matthew 16: 13-20 for August 28, 2011

Measuring success is challenging for congregations. On the one hand, models of success in our lives sometimes run in opposition to what we see in the life of Jesus and his teaching. A follower of Jesus named Peter once looked like he had his act together in understanding Jesus, but finds out there's a lot more to learn. Peter finds out that his understanding of Jesus' identity didn't match with where Jesus was going with his life--maybe Peter hadn't "arrived" after all.

Generosity and creativity go hand in hand

2011-08-25T07:42:00.000-07:00

What do we think about entrepreneurs in the church?

What does it take to create a faithful and thriving Christian community?

Are "faithful" and "thriving" mutually exclusive?

As I look across the mission field in the Pacific Northwest, knowing that any stewardship campaign I've ever done (in any place in the world) has not been "enough" for anyone involved in the community, why do we continue to attempt to resource ourselves the same way (definition of insanity)? When a leader comes along with a new/unfamiliar way (rooted in a faithful way) of gathering resources, is that methodology viewed with suspicion?

My observation: implicit messages exist all over historically Mainline Protestant traditions that entrepreneurs and their ideas are not welcome. Why? Is this a good thing?

I believe that among God's people there is always the opportunity to teach and encourage generosity. Generosity will indeed inspire and resource mission in the church. However, there's more to mission than generosity. Without creativity taught and encouraged, generosity misses part of the equation. Creativity must be unleashed.

Generosity and creativity go hand in hand.

"You Go Where You Look" Isaiah 51 (August 21, 2011)

2011-08-21T18:25:00.001-07:00

It is tempting to navel gaze and become overly focused on self after a personal or community trauma. The prophet Isaiah in chapter 51 tells his people to look at their relationship with God and to the future of God's action, in the community of faith and the world. The Kid Talk starts things off and moves into more applications of Isaiah's word from God.

The Sacred Ground of Prayer: Isaiah 56:1-8

2011-08-19T08:08:00.001-07:00

In a sermon based on Isaiah 56, Pastor Joe BW Smith looks at a baseline for gathering people who are different, scattered, even enemies. Isaiah offers a vision for communities of faith. The challenges for people linked to Isaiah have similarities to the fractured society we face today, and God's vision speaks to that disconnect.

Checking out a different field--baseball writing

2011-08-18T13:52:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I shared an exploration I took into baseball writing. I auditioned for some work in baseball writing, something only possible because so many professions have flattened their hierarchies. To be a baseball writer a decade ago, I probably would have had to hold a journalism degree or work my way in at the bottom, such as what I did back in the summer of 1989. My summer job then at The Olympian involved data entry, obituary writing, predicting the weather (sort of) and the occasional feature or news article.

Without a journalism degree or much experience, and equipped only with a love of writing and the Mariners, I took a chance at writing for a Seattle Mariners baseball blog. Some of the best sports writing and analysis I've seen comes from these blogs. I still appreciate the beat writers employed by various news outlets, but the bloggers have magnified the quality of baseball writing available to interested fans.

I did not get the "job" after my audition, but I received a good compliment about my writing. I learned a lot from this one week venture into another field. Some of my colleagues in ministry do work in other fields often. Others stay in the confines of the church for their entire careers and lose perspective and connection with what people who sit in worship encounter on a daily basis. My colleague, leader and teacher Ruben Duran says that "the church is not an end in itself, but the means by which God blesses the world." Too often pastors see the church as the end and fail to connect with those outside of the church world. Though my foray into writing on topics other than church was limited, it provided me a reminder of the insular nature of church life. Last time I checked, God loved the world, not only the church.

For all the perspective I gained, at the very least baseball writing for a weekend was fun. If you're not a baseball fan, or don't deal with advanced baseball metrics, the articles won't be of much interest. The one that might be of interest sits at the bottom of the post, since it touches on some theological themes.

A hypothetical Mariners roster move (thoughts on Matt Tuiasosopo)

Is something not quite right with King Felix?
___________________________________________

If you want to learn more about advanced baseball metrics, the library at Fan Graphs gives more information than you ever wanted to know. But it's a start.

Movement toward baseball truth takes more than nerds
By Joe BW Smith

Baseball is joining the topics of religion and politics in my family.

Why?

I am a relatively recent convert to advanced baseball metrics. Now that I concern myself with BABIP and ISO, my family can’t talk about the baseball things we used to talk about (at least I can’t with a straight face). The debates between my father and I have shifted. I fully realized this shift the other night when Dad showed concern about the variables in Felix attaining a win over the Red Sox toward his “record.” I found myself not caring at all about a pitcher win for the first time as a baseball fan. More than not caring, I almost forgot the win for Felix entirely. This gradual shift occurred over 2 years. A pitcher win hadn’t mattered for a long time (thanks, Keith Law), kind of like saying goodbye to a dying grandparent who lives in a nursing home; they are a mere shell of their former selves: they’re not living, they’re existing. Pitcher wins died to me a long time ago, and merely exist in a box score or pitching line. I ignored variables associated with a pitcher win Saturday night (RIP, pitcher wins, we’ll still have an award called Cy Young, remembering your existence). What really concerned me about Felix on Saturday was the amount of line drives the Red Sox lasered all over Safeco. I had to find out about Felix’ line drive rate (it’s the worst of his career). But hey, it looks like Felix will get more wins this year! RIP, indeed.

Since I’m losing the ability to talk about baseball with my father, I have to ask the question:

What is the point of gathering baseball statistics?

I ask this question because I believe the human tendency is do negative things with insider status. Advanced baseball metrics are becoming more mainstream all the time. We know this to be true on the national level with Greinke and Felix winning Cy Young awards while pitching for crappy teams. We know this to be true locally, because it’s not just the beat reporters who help form public discourse on baseball (Geoff Baker, Larry Stone, Ryan Divish (sniff), etc.), but now we can hear Dave Cameron and Jeff Sullivan on the radio, and their words are shared at the ballpark and at the water cooler—“Cust didn’t hit many dingers, but that OBP was just gaudy.” All of this makes me wonder if some of the innovator and early adapter stat gurus are going to cop an attitude like fans of an once edgy band that goes mainstream: “Dude, I only like U2’s EARLY stuff.” Something like, “oh, UZR was sooooooo 2009.”

The point of baseball statistics is to tell the truth about baseball performance. What works against that truth is, baseball is a game that involves relationships. We probably know from some family relationships we’ve observed (maybe even our own), that even though we may have contact or connection with someone, doesn’t mean that we’re interested in truth. The same truth avoidance applies to baseball as it does families. Dan Shaughnessy of the Boston Globe has written about sports and baseball spanning decades. He probably has countless relationships and work hours associated with a particular way of knowing baseball. Over a period of time he learns that the validity of some of his analysis is flawed. Of course he and others are going to be defensive, even downright hostile (his hostility toward advance metrics is well documented). Shaughnessy’s work and his relationships are affected by the changes in gathering statistics. Now the responses between advanced baseball statisticians and older generations of baseball analysts resemble political and theological discussions. You could probably tell stories about what discussions of politics and religion do to your family’s Thanksgiving. Baseball has drifted in that direction in my household. We still maybe able to discuss the Hot Stove League over Thanksgiving Turkey, but I’m not counting on it. There will always be barriers in finding truth—in baseball, politics and religion. It’s about control. Sometimes the carnage just sits there at Thanksgiving dinner (literally and figuratively).

The goal of gathering baseball statistics is truth about baseball performance. Yet, baseball is a game of relationships as well as athletic performance. The pursuit of baseball truth needs more ambassadorships, people who are well versed in the powerful link between relationships, truth and baseball. I think we see portions of that with Dave Cameron’s radio and social media appearances. Social media tools make the relational side of baseball truth gathering more possible. I am in awe of the response and interest in Cameron’s publicity of his leukemia and treatment (I’m sure he’s more in awe than me). In any learning environment, I have learned that relationships make the information more useful. Cameron’s public contact increases his trustworthiness. My exploration into advanced baseball metrics began reading Keith Law chat transcripts—where discussions of literature, language, cooking and FIP converged. Law answered my literature question before he ever answered my baseball questions.

Last Friday night at the Rainier's game, a good friend and I shared a Deschutes IPA. He attends far more live games each spring and summer than me. He has season tickets to his local semi-pro team, and his family gets to know the players over the season. He knows a lot about the game, but there are also many relationships woven in that knowledge. The topic of pitcher wins and run support came up in our conversation as we broke down the Fister trade and watched Luke French get pummeled. It was an opportunity to talk and figure out the truth of baseball performance. It’s one thing to have Jeff Sullivan tell me statistically why Luke French isn’t going to cut it; it’s another to be able to come to that conclusion among friends and family. It takes more than nerds to figure out the truth about baseball, but I’m glad that we have them, and that there are ambassadors among them.

A belated, yet incarnational review of Carol Howard Merritt's "Reframing Hope"

2011-08-17T12:19:00.000-07:00

I received a copy of Carol Howard Merritt's book, Reframing Hope, several months ago, soon after it was published. I made a promise I would review the book and share my insights on her work.

I couldn't bring myself to read it. I read the book in fits and starts, never getting beyond the first 20 pages. I like to keep my promises, so the book sat on my desk, mocking me. I met Carol at Unconference11 (#unco11) in May and talked with her a few times. She is gracious and encouraging both in social media circles and in person, and has many great things to share with the church. So I felt worse about not publicly contributing to the conversation about her book.

After a bi-coastal trip for congregational redevelopment last month and racking my brain in considering what I learned, I ripped through the book. I don't do this very often. I tend to take my time with books, pondering stories, philosophies and theologies. After hearing the stories from my colleagues about congregational decline at my training and also the stories of God at work delivering a sense of urgency in struggling communities, a title containing "hope" gained new cache in my vocation.

Why today? Why now?

For ten years until about 8 weeks ago, I served the church as an interim pastor. I brought great passion to my work, giving witness to God amid the vortex of congregational dynamics associated with a congregation in a pastoral leadership gap. I always considered myself a bearer of hope in the interim ministries I served.

What I realized as I read Reframing Hope was that there was a gap in the hope for Christian faith communities I could deliver as an interim pastor. My reasoning is that as an interim pastor, I always had an escape hatch. My time with a congregation averaged about 15 months, or at a retreat in a consultation. I was exhausted (usually in a good way) from the work, but I knew that after the limited time with the congregation, I could leave. I was the pastoral equivalent to how many grandparents function (though this is evolving). They get the grandkids for an afternoon, an overnight, or a weekend or longer, but often there is an end in sight. Grandparents have hope for their grandchildren. But I hear from many grandparents with a wry smile after a long exhale: "they go home." As an interim pastor, I always got to go home. It doesn't mean grandparents or interim pastors aren't passionate about their congregations, but the distance is different.

Now I find myself in a congregation that has significantly struggled in recent years. My wife and I bring our daughters to St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington, and ponder what God might be up to. We're looking for a home in the area. We're thinking about the schools for our daughters. Our relationships in the community take on greater weight. The stories of faith in the congregation take on a new sense of the Spirit for me. In the stories of past and current hurts of the people at St. John's, the Incarnation of God in Christ is palpable.

Reframing Hope is an incarnational book. It is about the presence of God witnessed in the life of congregations. This is not an academic exercise book. However, Reframing Hope calls on some good academic resources to give witness to the movement of God from numerous facets of congregational life as well as Howard Merritt's personal faith and ministry stories. It also gives a historical survey of the church in the American context and perspectives on emerging approaches to faith and congregational formation, from ancient practices to social media, recognizing the imperative of contributions of all God's people to sharing the grace of God in Christ with the world. Reading Reframing Hope probably wouldn't have made as much a difference to me as an interim pastor. It's a solid contribution for any ministry consideration. However, there is a fine line between personal investment and incarnational investment in ministry. I'm learning that, and Reframing Hope is a good reference point for my ongoing discernment.

I believe hope in Carol Howard Merritt's Reframing Hope is about incarnation--God's presence using the multitude of opportunities available to congregations ranging from classical liturgies to social media and beyond. I find this hopeful as I work to partner with the people of St. John's in redeveloping a community of faith. During my recent training in Newark, there were times I was downright fearful. Soon there will be a time I won't be traveling 30 minutes to get home after time at the church. Reframing Hope will continue to be a good conversation facilitator as St. John's movies into God's preferred future.

If you love a congregation (or many) and struggle to find how that congregation recognizes God at work in a changing world, I commend to you Reframing Hope to your ongoing discussion.

Baseball, Church, and Writing

2011-08-16T11:46:00.000-07:00

Just because I haven't posted writing on the blog recently does not mean I haven't been writing. I've been writing a lot lately. An opportunity arose to audition for one of my favorite baseball blogs, thinking I could make the leap from mostly church stuff to baseball. Waiting patiently for future vocational turns is not my strong suit. The time may come to share some of my baseball writing on this blog, but I'm not sure about the direction this writing is taking. Your average pastor will never become a baseball blog, but I am curious about what I have learned in my processes in writing about baseball and church.

The writing process in baseball is surprisingly similar to writing about church--preaching, congregational development, and biblical scholarship. Over the past decade, baseball has gradually developed new methods of research to understand truths about baseball. For about 100 years, baseball used very specific methods for understanding the game that did not change much. As baseball revenues and salaries have reached new heights and computer/electronic analysis moved into the game some questioned the assumptions and validity of older methods. Those who held control over the older methods of baseball knowledge struggled and still struggle (to the point of hatred and vitriol) with the new methods.

For some, the new methods of baseball analysis come with great ease, especially those who work well with statistical analysis. Information about baseball is not dependent on newspaper beat writers with large travel budgets or national commentators, or even sports networks like ESPN. Anyone with internet access and a desire to execute extensive research can make compelling arguments about many facets of the game, and I find their arguments quite persuasive. The validity of any measurement, whether qualitative or quantitative should be a priority. Are we actually evaluating what we say we're evaluating?

Sound familiar?

The church, biblical scholarship and preaching have changed because of access to information. Some people whose livelihoods or power status were based on older knowledge methods have challenged newer methods of research and analysis. Seminaries have had to change their methods some (though not all too quickly) and ordination tracks and sacramental access has shifted (though not too quickly). The common thread in developing new hierarchies and authority matrices is that control over information is crumbling (or has crumbled). It affects both the baseball world and the world of the church. Luther and his followers, colleagues and adversaries saw it with the dawn of the printing press. The authority structures are crumbling again. Feel free to deny it, or even decry it--I'm not sure it will do you any good.

What I have learned is that for all the doctrinal purists in both baseball and the church, they are still about relationships. Though it will always help to keep certain skill sets up to date and develop new knowledge bases, the world needs people who can navigate these changing times by managing their own anxiety and stay connected to people of different viewpoints. I haven't even touched on politics--and I think this is a primary issue in the current American political climate.

The fun part for me is that the opportunity to write about these topics and stay connected with you does not flow through a publication like The Christian Century, a local or national newspaper, or even a book that I write. I can connect with you--now. I am gladdened by our shared creative energy. I think that is God at work in the Spirit.

"Speaking the Faith: The Challenge of Language" Rom. 10:5-15

2011-08-10T16:54:00.001-07:00

A sermon from Pastor Joe BW Smith on Romans 10: 5-15 on the importance of faith and speaking, and the challenges and possibilities of language.

Lessons learned at table

2011-07-29T07:48:00.001-07:00

Has hospitality ever changed your day? Your outlook? Your life?

I can't say that I was excited to come to Newark, New Jersey. I remember studying the map of the state over the years (I'm a map geek), and not thinking much of it other than noticing the extensive amount of highways noodling across the state. Every time I've come to Newark, all I see is concrete, industry and graffiti. Newark is a hub of transportation and commerce and helps millions in their livelihood, for which I am thankful. However, the implicit message I have always received is "thanks for stopping through and contributing to our economy, but don't expect anything."

My perspective has been altered by the stories and hospitality of others as I attend a training for congregational redevelopment. Yesterday we heard the stories of a Lutheran community in a Brazilian neighborhood in Newark--I was moved by the pastors and their stories of community connection. Newark became not merely a convergence of highways and commerce, but a place of people with stories of faith and life.

Last night my colleagues and I were encouraged to try Portuguese food in Newark. My home area is full of Asian restaurants, so I was excited to find a new cuisine for me. The waiter from Vila Nova do Sol Mar came to pick up my colleagues and I in a van and then proceeded to serve us like we were long lost cousins (they picked us up...are you kidding???). With tubs (not hyperbole) of paella, clams and pork, fresh cheese, bread and gladdened hearts created by conversation and port wine, my cynicism of urban life continued to melt. A massive great uncle of a man, the owner, came and greeted us with love and gratitude with his gestures, squeezing our shoulders like a trainer encourages a beat up boxer.

It's easy to feel beat up in life. It's easy to gloss over the places we fly over and drive past. Authentic hospitality placed faces and lives as part of those places I had no reason to think about. While I have wondered whether I have what it takes to help redevelop a faith community, I thought there was little opportunity to find a place to be fed in a concrete jungle and sea of highways. I was fed because someone picked me up and brought me to the table with friends. I wasn't even looking for it, and the hospitality came to me.

Not only were we merely dropped off at our hotel, but we learned a little more about Newark by our driver. We weren't shuffled off, but we were cared for and reminded that we don't leave alone.

What an example for congregational life. I probably would not have ventured into Newark on my own. I was brought to a table of grace and generosity by someone willing to come get me--to meet me where I was, feed me, love me, send me off with encouragement and remind me I am not alone.

Sounds a lot like Jesus and communion.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Radar Rd,Newark,United States

Where's the Breadth?

2011-07-26T11:55:00.001-07:00

There are two kinds of people, so the beginning of the joke goes.

There are two kinds of churches...and it's no joke.

For church music it's one of two things:

1. The church uses an organ or piano and sings from a hymn book or printed music in a bulletin. Throw in another instrument if someone else plays one, but the music is essentially the same.

2. The church uses some combination of keyboard, guitar, drums and a cadre of vocalist leaders to lead people singing praise songs whose lyrics appear on a screen. Throw in another instrument if someone else plays one, but the music is essentially the same.

The beginning of the two kinds of people joke usually has some exceptions, but the (humor?) is usually true. Through consultations and interim ministry, the two kinds of churches joke appears to fit over 90 percent of the congregations I've observed.

Is that the way church music should be? Who said so?

My thoughts on this topic rekindled after attending a Pokey Lafarge and the South City Three concert last week--steel guitar, large upright bass, washboard, and harmonica filled St. Edward State Park in Kenmore, WA with the genres of string jazz and ragtime blues. What instruments, creativity, genres and people is the church missing because of an misplaced devotion to a particular strain of music?

A few exceptions come to mind.

The Roman Catholic Campus Ministry at the University of Kansas used to offer a diverse orchestra, likely based upon the gifts of the congregation. Bassoon, harp and oboe stood out.

Melanie and I used to worship at Nativity Lutheran Church in New Brighton, MN. The music had a Celtic flavor, with numerous flutes, mandolin, drums and harp.

Community Lutheran Church in Las Vegas hosted (maybe they still do) a country music worship service led by The Honkey Tonk Angels.

I know there are other examples of creative musical breadth in congregational life, but where is it? Where/what are the examples? The time is ripe for the church to take some musical risks. It's not like Mainline Protestant congregations are busting at the seams and the risk of offending folks will end congregational life as we know it. I am thankful for the pioneers who engaged in "worship wars" so that this idea of a guitar in worship would not raise such ire. They withstood much vitriol. Interestingly, "contemporary" worship music has become just as territorial as its predecessors with organ and piano.

What is the goal? I believe the church can facilitate a sense of awe in the Holy and encouragement for the community. It's not that a congregation has to employ a particular genre of music to be faithful, but that the musical gifts of the congregation are cultivated. I believe this movement taps into the creative power of God.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:NW 63rd St,Seattle,United States

Clear eyes, full hearts, can't lose--for the church. An ode to Friday Night Lights

2011-07-14T09:17:00.000-07:00

Do you think Friday Night Lights is a show about football? Think again. Football is part of the story, but FNL is about relationships. A creative culture makes it happen.

FNL makes its last hurrah as a current television series this Friday night. I'm not sure I've mourned the end of a series as much as this one. I admire the show for its passion and its creative process--and how a culture was created that facilitated and encouraged the creative process. This culture inspires me as a pastor. I hope that I can facilitate such a culture in the congregation and community I serve. Creation (not the "Intelligent Design" brand) is a theological foundation for me.

For a peek into the creative culture of Friday Night Lights, check out this oral history of FNL in Grantland (and if you haven't read Grantland yet, I commend it to you for writing on culture and sport that is moving far ahead of what any periodical is offering on similar topics).

Though the church has a history of inspiring creativity, the history is also long on burying creativity. Several teachers in seminary that I respect taught me an understanding of church based on replication. I took that teaching at face value for awhile. While there are some essentials in the life of the church to be replicated (and these things have been debated since Jesus arose from the dead), I believe much is up for creative interpretation. There are numerous periods in the life of the church where creativity has been squashed for a variety of reasons. This has happened and continues to occur in Mainline Protestant traditions. Even when there are wellsprings of creativity, these wellsprings are quickly institutionalized and become their own turf wars (see "contemporary" worship).

Mainline Protestant traditions were able to spread because of replication (plenty of cookie cutter church architecture out there). What else spreads because of replication? Chain restaurants. One may be able to get survival nutrition from a chain restaurant, but can people thrive? I have great hope to encourage a congregational culture where encouraging creativity is foundational to our relationship with God and one another. To me, this seems to be connected to the Great Commission: Where Jesus said, Go! Make disciples! Baptize! I am with you.

This is a creative directive from Jesus, with encouragement to go with it.

Encouraging creativity is contagious. The motto shared by Coach Taylor with his players and supporters: "Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose." Though Taylor had some "my way or the highway" methodology to coaching--he always took into account the gifts and individual situations of his players (sometimes learning the hard way), which was linked to the creative process of the series. I love thinking about this in a community of faith.

Kyle Chandler, who plays Coach Taylor on FNL, talks about how that creativity spread from the show to a basic interaction in his life:

Chandler: I was back home in Los Angeles and we wanted to put a gate up in our yard. The fella came over and said, "Mr. Chandler, how do you want me to build this?" I said, "I'm not going to tell you how to build this gate. You just look around at what's here, and you build the best gate you can. Be as creative as you want. Take your time, and just give me a good gate." That gate's probably going to stand for 400 years.

Lessons from language learning

2011-07-12T09:08:00.000-07:00

A primary lesson of 10 years of interim ministry was learning to maintain balance during times of change and flux. Not that everything around me was going to feel right or that I looked good, rather, that panic was avoided and that community life moved forward toward a goal. Interim ministry and transition is not the place for the perfectionist, whether a pastor or a congregation member. The ability to recover from a setback, mistake or anxiety trigger is paramount to progress. I know this to be true in ministry, athletic endeavors, parenting and now language. I'm leaning toward learning that the importance of recovery is a universal truth.

Here's how my learning has developed recently. I the past month I've taken on learning Korean as an avocation. Some people don't understand why I would invest my time this way. I see a multitude of Korean signs in my congregation's neighborhood, and I see learning language as a path to hospitality and connection. I suppose it would be beneficial for any immigrant to learn English, but I will attempt to meet them a little closer to where they are toward their destination. A favorite writer Keith Law recommended the Pimsleur method as an anchor for language learning.

I've been working with Pimsleur for 2 weeks, and I get more out of Pimsleur than I have in any other language learning process in my life. I've learned some Danish, French, Spanish, Russian, and reading ability in ancient forms of Greek and Hebrew, but my mental adjustments to Korean are different than any of the languages I have learned before. I'm not learning Korean easily, but appreciate the methodology. I began to understand while taking my 8-year-old daughter to speech therapy. Pimsleur was an applied linguistics and French scholar at UCLA and that his approach was similar to the approach of her speech therapist, whose specialty happens to be applied linguistics.

My daughter has auditory processing problems. She hears sounds well, but the movement from sound, to processing the sound, to speech doesn't work well. With regular speech therapy, she is improving. If the conversation doesn't move as planned, my daughter gets frustrated and the conversation breaks down further. What her speech therapist teaches her through a variety of drills and practical approaches is a growing ability to recover when communication inevitably breaks down (this IS universal). This ability is easily taken for granted, though we know in our own lives that communication breaks down frequently. The ability to recover makes a difference. My daughter learns to recover through speech therapy.

I do something similar using the Pimsleur method. Through its series of drills breaking down the sounds of language in many different combinations, I don't necessarily merely focus on memorizing particular words, but through work with sounds that make up language, I find myself less lost. Our speech therapist says these approaches in therapy and language education are similar, and that we are not being equipped to be perfect with language, but rather that we can recover when communication breaks down.

During my years of interim ministry, I have found no greater lesson. The ability to adjust and recover in during communication break down is far more important than learning to do something perfectly. The goal is to connect. The goal is to share a message. The goal is to build relationships. The goal is to learn. I still like to strive toward perfection to some degree, but frustration over not reaching perfection ends many attempts in life to do something good. I encounter this break down daily--in parenting, in building a household, in marriage, in ministry, in health, in vocation. It remains to be seen whether I will be able to live this out in the many facets of my life, but I have the lesson played out regularly during my trips to speech therapy and Korean language sessions.

Place matters--how do your surroundings affect how you see the world?

2011-07-07T10:41:00.000-07:00

How does where you live--culture, environment, physical surroundings and their corresponding relationships affect how you look at the world? How does it affect how you look at faith and congregational life?

My passion for these questions took a sabbatical over the past few years. After living for 20 years in the Midwest, I moved with my family to the Seattle metro, where I grew up before taking off for college and early adulthood. I am thankful for the relationships (where I met my wife), mentoring and opportunity in the Midwest (I lived and worked in rural and urban areas in KS, MN, WI, SD and IA). However, there was always some dissonance about my perceptions (particularly of faith and congregational life).

That dissonance runs both ways. I watched it last night at a grant planning meeting, where my Minnesota-native wife raised a particular point to the group. Someone responded, "is that a Midwest (church) thing?" No, Melanie responded, the congregational cultural attribute was part of her Las Vegas congregation, where she served her internship. She hears this kind of question/response loop in her work with congregations. In the particular expression of Lutheranism in the Pacific Northwest, it is common to hear about the church prowess of the Lutheran Holy Land of the Northern Great Plains (MN, ND, SD, IA), with the implication that the Pacific Northwest expression is somehow inferior. It appears from folk culture to church structure to leadership orientation.

One of my colleagues in South Dakota and I discussed this dissonance of place and perception on occasion. I had perceived that sometimes the Midwestern ethos is connected to a moral superiority. I had collected a series of op-ed pieces and letters to the editor that rejected the values of the West Coast and espoused the life in South Dakota. I was attempting to interpret what was behind that understanding. She responded that a Coastal ethos often depicts a cultural superiority. It was hard to disagree with either observation.

In congregational life the diversity of backgrounds is hard to ignore. For every perception of a degree of homogeneity, there are several divergent variables that affect perceptions and relationships. I remember seminary days with scholars and students who espoused some kind of pure faith and theology where culture didn't matter, and that somehow that pure theology could exist in a vacuum. To say there is a pure Christianity apart from culture reeks of gnosticism, where only insiders get to know and understand the "pure" theology.

Today's reflection was inspired by Kansas native Chris Suellentrop and his thoughts on the Kansas City sports landscape. Maybe you're interested in sports and place. If not, what caught my attention was one particular observation about the intersection of place and life, and one that didn't come from a Midwest outsider like me (if you don't want to read the entire article):

"Combine this romantic, backward-looking vision with the traditional Midwestern delusion that you are more American than the rest of the country, and you're left with a strikingly insular self-conception, a sense that you are in a place in righteous decline."--Chris Suellentrop, grantland.com, 7/7/11

That post re-awakened in me the importance of place as a variable to understanding our relationships with God and one another. It made me think about what it means to be a Lutheran Christian in the United States. Who once lived in the Midwest and married someone from the Midwest. Who loves everything about the geography of the Pacific Northwest (reacquainting myself with this love has distracted me from the deeper questions--they're now back). All of these things affect my relationship and vocation. The question is how? What does it mean?

Place matters. For a person of faith, place matters. The Bible features several stories and reflection about the land--think about the Promised Land. Even buildings receive special billing--the Bible features several stories about building programs. There is lament and hope intertwined with building destruction and reconstruction, and all that goes into the construction and recognition of place.

The question for me about the intersection between place and life is not that it exists, but how and why? What do you think?

Personal Media Inventory

2011-06-27T12:55:00.000-07:00

A preaching proverb states that a pastor lives out her call with a Bible in one hand and a newspaper in another. After two months working with an iPad, everything I read can be in one hand, but I can't completely let go of paper.

My late Granddad (a career journalist/journalism executive) and I used to check in with each other regularly about what kinds of publications we were reading, and what we observed about that particular publication. Not so much about the content, but that publication's place in journalism as a whole. Granddad would have admired the aforementioned proverb.

Without my Granddad around, I miss that check-in, but I will take my own media inventory and share it with you.

Paper Media

The Economist--
The lack of by-lines on news story analysis has always bugged me, but the columnists rate among my most valued. Lexington comes at American politics as someone invested in the American Experiment, but with enough distance for a refreshing perspective. Charlemagne is also top notch. Their iPad subscription service is cumbersome. Once my print subscription runs out, I may give it another try.

The Christian Science Monitor--
I admire how CSM shifted to weekly from daily publication a few years ago. The passing of Daniel Schorr leaves a hole in their political commentary to this day. I love how their coverage isn't completely driven by wars involving Americans. This is where NPR and most American media fails. I don't mind war coverage, it doesnt have to dominate it.

ESPN The Magazine--
A guilty pleasure--this magazine combines great writing, unorthodox sports coverage (far better than their TV sports journalism sibling) and information laid out in a variety of methods. It has an odd skateboarder/extreme sports ethos that may be distracting to some, but the writing and research beats Sports Illustrated hands down in my opinion.

From my iPad--

I love Google Reader. It's about the only thing outside of maps and search I use from Google--and I would give up the other two to keep Reader in a heartbeat. I don't use reader as a news outlet per se, but the collection of blogs serves as the topics I used to turn to in the newspaper.

I subscribe to too many blogs to list here, but here are my regulars:

Digital Ministry: Justin Wise (bedeviant.com); Church Marketing Sucks

Slices of life in Seatle: Seattle P-I The Big Blog--Sometimes local, sometimes national news, but from a Seattle perspective.

Top Seattle Mariners Bloggers: USS Mariner, Lookout Landing, ProBall NW, SoDo Mojo

Religion Dispatches, Tribal Church

iPad-specific content:

The New York Times delivers some slick content here, but most of it is hidden behind a pay wall--except for Top Stories. I find it to be the most pleasant reading experience on the iPad, and they've almost lured me into a subscription. I remember the days I had it delivered to my house in college in Lawrence, Kansas, not always arriving in tact or in good time.

Tell me about some items on your personal media inventory. What are you reading? How do you connect with the world through reading?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:S Pine St,Tacoma,United States

Underrated in Congregational Life: Language Learning

2011-06-23T11:00:00.000-07:00

Though I deeply appreciate the theological writings and ideas of Martin Luther, one of the things that inspires me most about a connection to the legacy of Luther is translation of the biblical witness into the language of the people. Sometimes I imagine the work of Bible translators, awestruck. I am thankful for Luther's pioneering translation work.

I love languages of all kinds. I enjoy Danish and French. I made an academic college try at Russian. I am attempting to learn Korean. I am intrigued by professional and social group lingo. I admire the dexterity in how the English language evolves. I don't like to feel foolish while I'm learning these manners of speaking, so sometimes I avoid them. It's not that I don't have the ability to learn the language, but the fear throws up road blocks. The challenge of connecting with my family and friends is stark enough; throw in the cultural differences, and I am tempted to say "why bother?" So I often give up.

Language is dynamic. We learn language often out of love for the other. Grandparents learn to use Facebook because they want to communicate with their grandchildren. An entrepreneur learns programming code because of their love for conveying a message. An adoptive parent learns Mandarin so they can know the more deeply the culture of origin of their daughter.

Here's why I think language learning is underrated in congregational life. Though we often engage in a world of dynamic language change, for some reason in congregational life, learning a new language is viewed with suspicion, or outright disdain. I think part of this is the fear and foolish factor, which I believe is modified by the deep emotional attachment to faith and congregational life. It hurts more to look foolish in matters of faith. It hurts more to look foolish in a place where we have so many and emotions and time invested in the milestones of life.

Another factor in language learning involves the theological and cultural roots of our understanding of God and change.

1. There is a very strong theological and cultural understanding that God does not change, therefore change in congregational language is considered suspect.

2. At attempt to keep language the same in congregational life may also reflect a fortress mentality. In the above link, I reference Pat Keifert, a theologian who has taught about how congregations are resistant to language change (and change in general) because the church was a "change-free zone" in the midst of a world full of change.

The variables in language learning accelerate rapidly in the Information Age, and many church leaders have rightly asked the question of stewardship of abundant information and how to prioritize usage. This burgeoning reality adds another wrinkle into how language learning choices have become more complex for congregations. Where does that conversation about language learning start? One of my favorite biblical questions from the Parable of the Good Samaritan. "Who is my neighbor?" The two things I have noticed as I drive into work: The US Military presence, and Korean language signage. I have a lot of language to learn from both communities. I cannot afford to underrate language learning anymore.

Overrated in Congregational Life: The "Summer Slump Letter"

2011-06-22T09:22:00.000-07:00

Some people mark the changing of the seasons by holidays. Some people don't mark the changing of seasons with terms like solstice and equinox, but Memorial Day weekend, the 4th of July, Labor Day, and Easter.

Congregations can mark the changing of the seasons from the giving messages they receive via email or snail mail. You know it's autumn when you receive a letter asking for a pledge in the coming year. You know it's winter when you receive a letter to remind you of your last opportunity to make a tax-deductible donation for the fiscal/tax year. You know summer has arrived when you receive a reminder letter that congregational giving is often down during the summer months and that budget strains are acute during that time. Kennon Callahan called this the "Summer Slump Letter." Forget keeping a calendar or looking at the weather. Look at your mailbox or inbox. You'll know what season it is then. I've seen several Summer Slump letters already this summer. They're a little early this year--the economy must be bad. Slap a Bible verse or a prayer on the end of the plea, mark a season, proclaim deficit awareness, and spiritualize it. There you have the Summer Slump letter.

For many congregations, tight budgets are a way of life. Even for congregations flush with cash from a bequest or a land deal, I have yet to encounter a congregation that doesn't agonize over financial resources in some way (I see congregations flush with cash who fight more than congregations with tight budgets, but that is another story).

After seeing numerous cycles of letters and emails sent to congregational members over the years, congregational coffers should be full of donations, deeply moved and inspired by the letters they receive. These letters have probably been written for several decades. Have they made a difference (please let me know if they have)?

Why bother writing these letters?

Congregational leadership wrangles over the budget during most monthly meetings, if not all of them. Letters send a message that the leadership is not ignoring the tight budget, but doing SOMETHING. It usually makes them feel better, not to mention puffing up their own sense of accomplishment if they are giving themselves. Sometimes congregational leadership will go so far as to scold the congregational members for not giving. How well does scolding go (please let me know if you have a scolding success story)?

Callahan suggests that if there is a summer slump time in the congregation that it has to be planned for throughout the year, not addressed as a surprise occurrence each year. What might be a better approach to addressing a giving trend that is lower during the summer months?

1. Rarely will summer giving dips be adequately addressed during the actual summer months. These trends have to be addressed during the budgeting process, not when resource issues reach panic levels.

2. Some assumptions about congregational giving must be released. New members do not mean more money for a congregation, in fact, new members will probably mean resources will become even more strained. The new member + new member = more money fallacy is rooted in a notion that a congregation is the center of a given culture. With that in mind consider the next point.

3. Giving is based on a relationship. My late grandmother gave to ministries when she connected with the television preacher or Bible study leader. I didn't necessarily like how or to whom she gave, but the television ministry connected with her faithfully and regularly, more than even her own family. Even with a television, a kind of personal connection is made. How much better a connection is made when congregational leaders facilitate intentional, face to face communication with a listening posture? With a letter, nothing is learned about the recipient. A face to face meeting, though labor and time intensive, provides learning beyond measure. Face to face meetings are opportunities to learn about what God is doing through that person and how that activity can be shared with the body of Christ. Face to face communication is a high risk, high reward venture.

I invite you to share your wisdom about summer slumps or any other giving season issues you would like to discuss.

Do you know what season it is in your congregation? Check your inbox or mailbox--the overrated Summer Slump letter may be there.

Overrated in Congregational Life: Mission Statements

2011-06-20T10:47:00.001-07:00

During my final year of seminary, I became enthralled by mission statements. A colleague introduced me to the concept of a clear, memorable and passionate statement about the crux of what drives action in daily life. Laurie Beth Jones wrote about it, Tom Cruise playing Jerry McGuire romanticized it (you had me at hello), and like many other development trends, the church picked up on it 5, 10, 15 years late.

I thought mission statements could change the church. I worked on mission statements with several congregations over the years. Sometimes they were helpful, sometimes not. Mission statements have not been the variable that moves a congregation into effective ministry. The problem that I see is that congregations have used not having a mission statement, or being in the process of developing a mission statement as an excuse to not move forward with ministry and action. Then I see congregations invest hundreds of hours and dollars into mission statement development only for that mission statement to gather weeds or be doomed to a governing board manual in a binder.

Mission statements alone will not revitalize a congregation or any church organization. Mission statements cannot replace passion and an understanding of congregational assets, gifts and a strong congregational culture. At their best, mission statements give congregations focus, and a tool for discerning priorities. At their worst, mission statements become vortexes of frustration and ennui, or graveyards of theological platitudes. Also add a drain of resources that could be helping connecting people and multiplying God's grace.

Another shortcoming of mission statements is that even in strong congregational cultures, the mission statement atrophies because the mission is not employed in congregational discourse. Mission statements can be reinforced in worship, kid talks, education events, and congregational publications, to name a few opportunities.

Mission statements are also confused with creeds. Congregations feel like they need to adequately honor their particular tradition through their mission statement, so far as it doesn't offend anyone. A good mission statement reflects a particular passion that connects God and that particular community.

If you're looking to a mission statement to drive you toward a thriving ministry, a mission statement will not inspire you any more than a wrench would. A mission statement is merely a tool. A mission statement cannot replace a desire to make a difference in the world in the name of Christ and the hard work it takes to build relationships through love, forgiveness and grace.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:59th Ave SW,Lakewood,United States

Underrated in Congregational Life: Accountability

2011-06-15T13:41:00.001-07:00

Accountability is a loaded term for congregations, for both pastors and members.

It's hard to serve in a congregation in any capacity because it can feel like every member is a boss. However, ministries can go on for multiple years while accomplishing little. My wife and I have often discussed the concept that pastors (and other ministry professionals) work in a high-expectation, low-structure positions. I would argue that this is the nature of congregational life. Expectations are high, but the structure of meeting those expectations often lacks cohesiveness. People in ministry may feel accountable, but the accountability in ministry is often rooted in personal preferences as opposed to shared principles. Therefore, I believe accountability in congregational life is underrated.

Peter Steinke often says about congregations that they "tolerate too much bad behavior in the name Jesus." This applies to the entire congregation. Bad behavior in many forms is often tolerated it because supposedly it's the "Christian" thing to do. Bad behavior can take on many forms--verbal, sexual and spiritual abuse, underperformance, insubordination, destructive communication, sabotage, etc. To set up accountability structures can seem too corporate, and not becoming of an intimate family (I have concerns about the image of family in congregational life, but that's for another post). Even families have boundaries for appropriate behavior. Congregations and ministry professionals have a fear of accountability, because it can be risky for relationships in the short term, but in the long term, it allows each member of the Body of Christ the space to thrive.

Some congregations lack shared accountability. A pastor or ministry professional may act in an authoritarian fashion. A congregational leadership may deliver a list of expectations to a ministry leader without flexibility. Once a congregation moves toward accountability, a shared approach will provide stronger paths to communication, because boundaries need to be renegotiated from time to time.

Accountability is underrated because many congregations are often beholden to preferences and tolerant of bad behavior from pastors and congregation members alike. I hope that congregations can work together toward a shared accountability. It is a move with the risk.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Mckinley Ave,Tacoma,United States

Overrated in Congregational Life: Politics, Relationships and Moving Forward with Church Office Space

2011-06-14T07:39:00.000-07:00

Today's guest blogger, Dr. Kirk Jeffery is a church growth consultant. He works with all sizes of congregations. He spent fifteen years in local parish ministry as an Elder in The United Methodist Church. He did his doctoral work at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey in Postmodern Ecclesiology. He also roasts and sells coffee. www.kirkjeffery.com. Follow Kirk on Twitter @KirkJeffery.

Joe Smith, in a related blog post, suggested that there is too much infrastructure surrounding a pastor’s study, and that it really has little place in ministry in the twenty-first century. I completely agree.

The pastor’s study was envisioned for a time past, when people flocked to the church, when clergy were among the best educated in the community, when the pastor was required to tote around a vast library of books and those books contained the basis for the answers the congregation and the broader community were seeking.

Today the pastor’s study seems to be more a limiting feature of ministry than an empowering one. If I had my way, I would eliminate it from the church entirely, as an outmoded, non-useful space. It seems that it serves only to have a space where a small group of parishioners can keep a watchful eye on what the pastor is up to—for if our pastor is in his/her office, then we know that he/she is working. Ug. The thought that true ministry happens within the confines of the four walls of the pastor’s study makes me sick.

However, let me caution any would-be study-tossers, especially if you are in your first five years of ministry in your local context. Let me share some valuable first-hand insights on office space.

I once served a parish that had rented out the majority of the church to a daycare facility which used the space Monday-Friday from 6:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. When I first got there, there was a lot of consternation by folks that felt that they had lost their space. The women’s group couldn’t use the space for their monthly mid-day meeting. It was difficult to schedule weekly mid-day Bible studies. Committees couldn’t meet until 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. The daycare always left the space a mess.

I thought I had a great solution… We would turn the pastor’s study into a dedicated classroom and mid-day meeting space. The pastor’s study was not a great space for a pastor anyway (it had sexual safety issues—no windows). I would work from home and the local coffee shop. I would meet with folks in their homes, in the coffee bars, in the beer bars! With the advent of cell phones, free internet, and my laptop computer, I felt that ministry could, and should take place anywhere. And it did.

The problem that I encountered was that I had not been there long enough to build up trust. For the twelve people who regularly popped into the church and office to do their various business and mission, it was a huge issue that I wasn’t where they could see me. And if they couldn’t see me, I obviously wasn’t working.

The key to being able to move out of the pastor’s study is trust. As pastor, you will have to build enough trust within the congregation to let them let you move out of the pastor’s study and into the community. This process is not measured in months, but rather two to five years of hard, office, pencil pushing work. Once they know that you actually work, moving out of the office will not be such a big deal. But they have to trust you first.

If you decide that you really want to move out, I suggest that you take these steps:

1) Talk with the power brokers in the church, the ones who nod yes and it happens and who shake their head no and it doesn’t. Explain to them the vision, the reason, the hopes, the dreams…. Remind them (gently) that the church is not an end in itself, but a means to an end—to create new disciples. As pastor, you are most effective out in the community building relationships. No one outside the formed community is wandering into the church anymore, unless they are seeking gas or rent money.
2) Make the move slowly. Advertise that you will be at the coffee bar from 8:30-10:30 on Tuesday mornings. Make sure you are there! If it is received with good faith, then you can progress—slowly add time away from the office and in the communty. Turtle pace is key. Don’t do too much, too quickly. You spent a lot of time building the trust by keeping lots of office hours. It only takes a couple of missteps to lose it all.
3) Keep the gossipers and the key leaders informed. Talk to them about the conversations you are having. Tell them some stories. Even if these new folks aren’t coming to church, if you can tell the stories, then they will allow you even more freedom to be in a space other than your study.
4) Don’t move your library out of the pastor’s study until someone else lays clam to, “your” space. You have claimed it, the congregation has given it to you. If you only spend one hour in there, on Sunday mornings, still claim it—until it is needed for something else.
5) After some time, begin to work to develop another, “need” for your space. If you are not using it, someone else should. Who might use that space? What mission, what ministry, what other staff person needs that space more than you?

Working with established churches to change is difficult and time consuming work. But they are willing to change if you are willing to help them change slowly. No matter how big or how small your congregation, you have to think of your congregation as a aircraft carrier rather than a speedboat. The turns have to be planned months and years in advance, otherwise they will never happen.

Overrated in Congregational Life: Office Space

2011-06-13T11:32:00.001-07:00

Office space for a church is overrated. This has not always been the case.

There are several images of how a pastor invests time. The hub of those images is the "Pastor's Study." This is the room where you walk in and see shelf after shelf of biblical commentaries, theology, church history, congregational leadership, and pastoral care books. This is where the pastor swigs coffee and mines the Greek and Hebrew texts for preaching wisdom. The Pastor's Study is the place where people can stop by during office hours to ask the pastor any kind of question--a theological/relational/church pre-Google of sorts. The Pastor's Study is also a place where someone comes for pastoral counseling, a place where spiritual and emotional wounds discover a path to healing.

More recently, the Pastor's Study is the place for a computer. Congregations invested in a desktop computer. The computer helped the pastor access colleagues and information and produce publications for the congregation.

The Pastor's Study, depending on the size and scope of congregation, also serves as a nerve center for the education and fellowship life of the congregation. In a mid-sized church (150-250 in worship) Pastor's Study is where programs are planned with office or program staff and volunteers. In larger congregations, the Pastor's Study becomes a CEO-type office where collaboration, visioning, and community building with ministry specialists takes place.

Over the years, congregations have invested hundreds of thousands of dollars in labor and money in facilities to house the concept of the Pastor's Study in its varying and evolving forms and functions. The problem that stems from this investment is usually one of two (possibly both).

1. The church invests much their history and money in their Pastor's Study, that with that investment carries an expectation that's where the pastor is supposed to be--at the beck and call of expectation of any congregation member. Whether this is true, I find that as a captive perception in congregational life.

2. In order to accommodate the expanding understanding of Pastor's Study, congregations often invest in larger facilities. That investment is financed by loads of debt, sometimes in the millions of dollars.

The problem with each of these investments is that with financial investment comes emotional investment. Each of these investments places an albatross on ministries, weighing down both pastor and congregation, choking ministry opportunities. This misappropriation of resources takes investment away from connection in the community and going where the people are and places it in maintaining unmanageable images of the Pastor's Study.

I am not a detractor of church buildings or the Pastor's Study. I am saying office space is overrated. Most of the time I spend in a Pastor's Study in this day and age can be better invested in the public square and learning about what God is doing in the community. In the church, we may hope that our church buildings are public, but they often aren't.

With all of this in mind, I'm looking to rent out my Pastor's Study. Some ministry partnership may be harvested there. I am learning how to travel light in ministry. I think Jesus taught something about that. The Pastor's Study is not dead, but it's preventing the church from traveling light in ministry.

I also wonder who holds the Pastor's Study sacred cow. Is it the congregation? Or the pastor? This is my food for my thought today, while i take in some food during study at the local bagel shop today--with free wi-fi.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:91st St SW,Lakewood,United States

Classic Sports Discourse, Revisited for the Church

2011-06-09T10:13:00.000-07:00

I am currently working on a series of blog posts in the coming week or two using a framework often used in sports, but I am trying it with the life of the church. What is overrated? What is underrated? Sports people in radio and in the business attempt to stay away from overvalued athletes (unless you're the New York Yankees or Boston Red Sox) and maximize undervalued athletes. The church should probably stay away from looking at people and ministries as commodities, yet it is important to understand the dynamics of public discourse and what receives our attention.

What do you think? When it comes to the life of the church: what is overrated? What is underrated?

Here are the examples I am currently addressing in my thoughts that will turn into blog posts in the series:

Overrated: Office space. Mission statements.
Underrated: Grace. Accountability.

I would not pin this framework on Jesus' thought processes and ministry. However, Jesus is doing something to this effect during the "blessings and woes" teaching in Luke 6. It's overrated to be full and rich. It's underrated to be excluded and hated because of an association with Jesus. It's underrated to be hungry and weeping. What do these statements mean? What does it say about human aspiration? What does it say about who we value as people? The underrated/overrated framework is a discussion piece about where we put our attention in public and congregational discourse.

If you are interested in writing a guest blog post, let me know. Or, if you have some input on possible topics, let me know! What do you think?

Imagining small church mission

2011-06-08T12:49:00.000-07:00

What does it mean to be part of a small church?

This week, I began service as the pastor of St. John's Lutheran Church in Lakewood, Washington. St. John's is a gathering of approximately 40 people in Sunday morning worship. By almost any definition, St. John's is a small church. My small church experience is a small portion of my life with congregations.

1. I served an interim ministry at New Life Lutheran Church in Sergeant Bluff, Iowa, a community at the time of about 40 people in worship.
2. I served an interim ministry at a three-point parish in Lyman County, South Dakota. One of the congregations was distinctly small in Kennebec, the congregations in Vivian and Presho could be large enough to classify differently.

From experience, observation and study, here are the small church thoughts in my mind. I am taking an inventory of small church experiences. It should also be noted that as an interim pastor, I never lived in a small church community. There was always an understanding that I had relational access to people's lives, yet remained an outsider.

Congregational size is not the only variable of consequence. Region, denomination, judicatory, education and other variables can enter the discussion, but the focus of this reflection involves what I have gathered about small churches.

1. Often the small church is described with a sense of "plight." The small church is depicted in church circles as suffering or in disarray. Both seem to be associated with suburban migration of the mid- to late- 20th century; a migration that dwindled the size of both urban and rural congregations. The plight is that resources to fund urban or rural congregations fades as people leave, much like other urban and rural social institutions. Small churches can still thrive, I believe, but it also depends on the shared definition of what thriving means.

2. Power in small congregations must flow through the matriarchs and/or patriarchs of the congregation. Several decades ago, Arlin Rothauge published a short book on congregational size dynamics and named the 0-50 worship attendance congregation as a "family" church. Rothauge's observations have been parsed in congregations and church leadership circles for the better part of three decades. In this size of congregation, the members are often highly invested and see pastors come and go for many different reasons (see #3).

3. Pastoral leadership in small congregations often exists in a state of flux. Small congregations often cannot afford a full-time pastor, or an experienced pastor, because the salary levels cannot support clergy with a family living at home, or a pastor carrying large amounts of student loan debt. With pastors coming and going quickly, congregations develop a pattern of behavior where they can "wait out" the pastor and all of that particular pastor's ideas for ministry if they don't care for them.

4. In a small congregation, everyone knows everyone else. So the proverb goes--but I think this is a bit of a myth or euphemism for an intimacy that cannot be assumed. There may be a higher degree of familiarity among members/worshiper in small congregations than large congregations, but that does not necessarily reflect a depth of relationship.

5. What a small church needs is to replicate what is done at a large congregation. Reading a favorite blog, Church Marketing Sucks (CMS), I was reminded of how easily the replication notion is perpetuated. Large churches have the resources to share their experience, wisdom and knowledge with others. They share that information with pastors and congregations, and the small congregations often end up feeling inferior about what God is doing among them. As someone who has served both small and large congregations, this is not intentional, but it still goes on. Frustration continues to mount about good leadership resources for small congregations. The blog post from CMS reminded me about small-large congregation leadership dynamic.

In the end, what seems to matter is that people in a congregation can imagine a unique sense of mission independent of the aforementioned factors. This does not mean God's mission is lived in a vacuum. On the contrary, I think the question related to the Parable of the Good Samaritan is operative, "And who is my neighbor?" We need to know something about our neighbor in order to share good news in Christ.

Who is God? What is God doing? Who is my neighbor? I still have much to learn about small churches and the small church I am serving, but I need to remember these questions, and I look forward to addressing these questions with people in the community.

La pièce de résistance

2011-06-07T12:57:00.001-07:00

How are we humans supposed to respond to resistance?

A. Fight through it.
B. Embrace it.
C. Avoid it.
D. Persuade it.

Does it matter who or what the resistance is? Sometimes the resistance is looking right at me in the mirror. Other times the resistance is a well-organized part of an institution. Other times the resistance is diffuse, yet omnipresent

Seth Godin invests a significant portion of his book Linchpin in the concept of "the resistance." Godin associates this concept with the portion of our brain that seeks comfort at all costs--survival mode or the status quo. In sociological terms, the resistance resembles a drive in organizations toward homeostasis--a calm center. It doesn't matter if the system is in decay, the resistance wants familiarity and peace.

In reading Linchpin, it's hard not think of Jesus' telling of The Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14-30). Why do some of the servants/slaves take risks where one does not? What variables are present?

Explicit variables:
+Degree of fear
+Willingness to take risk
+Ability

Implicit variables:
+Knowledge of the market
+Strength of relationships

The thread linking all of these variables is the resistance. There are theological terms that serve in relationship to the resistance, some might call it sin. Lutherans might call it "old Adam (others?)."

The interesting proposition is that the Parable of the Talents, and numerous authors, preachers, journalists, columnists and psychologists place all kinds of effort into addressing the resistance. Through shame, finger pointing, fear mongering, brain analysis and story telling (remember "Who Moved My Cheese?), the resistance receives a lot of attention.

These days, I'm leaning toward embracing resistance. According to Matthew, avoidance never works in the long term, and leads to weeping and gnashing of teeth. I will invest more time in the Parable of the Talents and Linchpin in my first year at St. John's Lutheran Church because the resistance is what confounds congregations and pastors and causes them to bury their talents in a hole, much like in The Parable. It doesn't take much searching among sister congregations and colleagues to see and hear weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Location:Bridgeport Way SW,Tacoma,United States

Creating: A Good Way To Start

2011-06-06T14:00:00.001-07:00

Genesis poses several challenges to Bible readers.

For some, Genesis represents a lens the natural world: a 6,000 year-old Earth where the words in Genesis trump any scientific discovery. For others, the idea of a talking snake conversing with the first humans delegitimizes any claim the Bible makes. Placing these perspectives on a continuum, I imagine that many Bible readers fall somewhere in between the two aforementioned poles.

I'm reflecting on the creation stories in Genesis today because I'm beginning a ministry that is new to me. God has been here in Lakewood and at St. John's Lutheran Church long before I got here. But In Genesis, God engages humanity to join in the creative action of God. Creation is an ongoing activity, initiated and supported by God--I'm glad I get to take part.

The challenge of the day in light of Genesis is actually creating. Creating was a first person activity for our parents and their parents. It was not only part of survival, but essentially cultural: our ancestors cooked from scratch more often, created their own tools and crafts, fixed their own household items. This is not meant to glamorize the past, rather give us perspective on where we are.

In an information age, passive intake is a default operation for many cultures. I don't wish to return to glamorized days of yore, but I do want to recognize that creation takes intentional action. Any of us can execute our survival primarily on consumption. From Internet, to social media, to ordering a pizza on a smart phone, to streaming movies on a tablet, we can navigate our days without much intentional thought. I am thankful for all of these tools, but creation can easily be lost from day to day living.

Maybe the view of "be fruitful and multiply (Genesis 1:28)" can be expanded from bringing children into the world to creating in a sense that makes life better for living.

Seth Godin's book Linchpin has challenged me to reconsider my participation in creation. What am I sharing with the world? What steps am I taking to give life in the world? In encouraging moments, Godin encourages me with all the gifts and talents I have, at other times reminds me how often I waste time spinning my wheels on social media and Web surfing.

Today provided me one of many choices; writing provided me a good path to start a ministry that is new to me. Creation is a good foundation for any day of life.

Location:82nd St SW,Lakewood,United States

A story from an introverted parent

2011-06-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

Today's post is rooted in thanks to colleague and fellow Mariner and Huskies fan Adam McHugh.

I appreciate his invitation to write as guest blogger on McHugh's website, Introverted Church. If you want to explore in depth regarding introverted spirituality, I commend McHugh's book to you.

Parenting as an introvert is not any more challenging than any other parenting point of reference, but the approach and reflections are different. I will be doing less parenting at home in the coming months, and Adam provided me an opportunity to reflect on the changing seasons of parenting and vocation in my household. I am thankful for the opportunity.

Navigating debt and gratitude: a student loan milestone

2011-05-27T10:44:00.000-07:00

June, 1988
May, 1993
May, 1998

These months and years mark the time I graduated from high school, college and seminary, respectively. None of these education milestones have caused me to look back and look ahead like the date of May 26th, 2011. That is the date that Sallie Mae congratulated me in a letter on the status of my student loans becoming "paid in full."

Debt (both financial and in general) is an odd concept. After a societal combination of love affair and ignorance of financial debt for decades, it's falling out of favor. However, debt is never an end in itself and becomes a path to some opportunities. Regardless of your perspective on debt (and there are many), as a pastor I know debt and shame are inextricably linked (I feel a strange sense of vulnerability even writing this post). I've hosted several classes at the congregations I serve where debt is a topic of learning and discussion, and the fear and shame related to debt is palpable. Though I'm not proud of the student loan debt accumulated in my late teens and through most of my twenties, there is also an curious connection to debt and gratitude. In paying off my student loans, I remember some of the people and systems that knit gratitude in my being in the midst of something sometimes shame-ridden.

It's one thing to earn a diploma and degrees through the generosity of others and personal perseverance; it's another thing to finance it. I don't have many degree holders in my family, but many of them thought it was important that I have an education and that I have many opportunities. Though my family could not pay for my entire education, they helped along the way.

My family came to visit me at the Univeristy of Kansas and Minnesota State University-Mankato, places where I wanted to go, 1800 miles away from home. They offered encouragement. Mom and Dad and Grandparents gave me hugs in person and from afar, with checks and cash in them. They scraped money together so I could learn and grow.

Friends and their families took me in. The Volansky Family in St. Louis gave me a home away from home, even after I left the University of Kansas. If I couldn't get to the Seattle Metro, if I could just get to St. Louis, I was treated like a brother or son.

When I married Melanie, I saw that she was wonderfully responsible with an amazing work ethic. Her education cost more than mine (she graduated from Augustana College in Sioux Falls, South Dakota), yet she worked her way through seminary and carried smaller amounts of debt. When we were married, my student loan debt became our student loan debt. She was gracious, loving, generous and persistent so that we would pay off that debt.

Something I learned after my education was that legislators along the line created a subsidy so that I carried only a partial burden of the interest. The plethora of perspectives about federal subsidies for student loan debt still make my head spin both in macro and micro frames of reference, but it's possible that without those subsidies, I would still be paying off the debt.

Professors and teachers often work at a substandard wage because they love to make the learning connection with their students. My respect for my teachers overflows; I am in awe of their gifts and generosity.

Every so often in my student mailbox at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota, I received a blank thank you card addressed to a seminary donor. I was asked to write in that thank you card for the seminary donor. Though many pastors who served many more years than me remember a day when seminary tuition was minimal, I learned in thank you card writing how many people faithfully gave in order to finance my theological education. I spent numerous dollars. In the big picture, people who knew nothing of me but my desire to learn more about God, church and service, contributed so that I could be equipped to be a pastor.

Both my home congregation of youth, Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd in Olympia, WA, and Lutheran Campus Ministry at Minnesota State University-Mankato, pulled together resources to support my theological education.

I probably forgot a few people and systems, but that is not intentional.

(Added 1:33pm Pacific--I did forget)
Judicatories are also working to address student loan debt. The South Dakota Synod (ELCA) set up a fund that made multiple debt payments on my student loans during my 8.5 years of service there. They recognized that many Lutheran congregations in South Dakota may not be able to pay a wage that could knock out student loan debt effectively. I hope that fund has grown and gained a wider scope. It helped me, and I am thankful.

Recently I was reminded about razor sharp edges of education, ministry, debt, shame, pain and opportunity at Unconference11, a gathering of people passionate about the life of the church. I heard several conversations and frustrations about student debt. I know the woven feelings of frustration, shame and gratitude intimately. I live(d) in the moccasins of the indebted. Without getting too happy as to depict glibness, I wanted to let my new friends and colleagues know that it was possible to be a pastor who survived student loan debt. Regardless of how education is financed, collective sacrifice is necessary. How that happens in detail, I'm not sure. I take this milestone of "paid in full" as an opportunity to live in gratitude. At least in the life of the church, we can wrangle about economic, theological and ecclesial philosophies and applications about debt and education, but gratitude is the best compass for navigation.

My Experience with the Invisible Denominational Ladder

2011-05-26T07:11:00.000-07:00

On several occasions over the last 10 years, congregational members would look at me and my growing young family on a Sunday morning and say "When are you going to get a real church?"

On a good day, I would use that question to talk about vocation and calling with the inquirer. I was called to interim ministry for 10 years. I believe I worked faithfully and skillfully. I attended interim ministry meetings and conferences as the often the youngest person in attendance by 25-40 years. It didn't matter that I was not a part of that ministry with my generational peers (though I sometimes longed for their companionship)--that's where my gifts were. I am a strong believer in the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25: 14-30), therefore I attempt to faithfully use what I have been given. Even in the midst of questions from colleagues, peers, denominational representatives, and even members of the congregation I served.

"When are you going to get a real church?"

Several church denominational systems create an unintentional invisible ladder for the vocational development of clergy. Many seminary graduates have five-figure student loans to finance their theological education. Many congregations who take seminary graduates to serve their congregations cannot afford to pay a wage that will realistically pay off the debt so that pastors can save money for retirement or pay for the education of their own children. Therefore after a brief tenure, the pastor moves on to larger congregations and/or more specialized positions in large metro areas with thriving suburbs. The congregations in rural South Dakota even recognized this dynamic. They sometimes encouraged me to leave so that I may thrive in ministry in a "bigger and better" place. Many people lined up in my life to give thanks for the opportunity to serve together, but the same question always arose:

"When are you going to get a real church?"

After completing my most recent transitional ministry in Port Orchard, Melanie and I affirmed what we learned early on in that period of service; this 10 year season of interim ministry was over. It is too logistically challenging to be good pastors and good parents to our two daughters. Melanie and I considered many congregational opportunities, and some reflected a denominational ladder. I have experience as a lead pastor in larger congregations and supervising staff. I have experience in congregations with large budgets that give a lot of money to denominational ministry (both in Lutheran and Presbyterian congregations). Without saying so, the system's message is that I should be in a larger congregation--that's the message of the pervasive question about my status with a "real church."

After a meeting last night with a small urban/suburban congregation in significant decline, we studied our body language toward each other and wondered if God was present in this discussion. Even though it is likely I will be their called pastor, people will still ask me the question, "when are you going to get a real church?" I don't really want to address the real church question. We recognize the Invisible Denominational Ladder together, lose any fixation with that and behave in a manner that God may be doing something with us. We don't need to articulate a bromide to assure ourselves that we are the church regardless of the congregational size. We don't need to give ourselves a pep talk. Collectively we will give thanks to God for Jesus and the blessing of being a community. We will gather and ask the question, "how can we serve our neighbor?"

The Invisible Denominational Ladder is of our own creation in what we know as "Mainline Protestantism." Some ladders look a little different in each denomination. It's not something that someone else did. It's there and part of who we are, like the wind, or atoms, or molecules. Maybe the ladder needs to be torn down, and maybe someone is called to tear it down. Calling and faithful use of gifts carries the day--which is what ignites my memory and action.

Another Untimely Review: The Fighter

2011-05-23T17:06:00.001-07:00

Working class hero films tend to draw me in.

I appreciate watching someone driven by passion and overcome adversity to achieve a goal. The storytelling can even be mediocre; whenever I watch Rocky films I see the melodrama and weak dialogue. Yet I still get charged by the adrenaline rush because I see what has challenged my own family members and me. Though we aren't working-class heroes or win boxing matches in my family, the victories cause me to raise my arms in joy, and kneel in thanks to God. Such displays of humility represent the faith, ritual and athleticism of "Irish" Micky Ward in The Fighter.

The Fighter is a film that doesn't hide the fact that that it's a boxing film, and Mark Wahlberg and his production crew don't gloss over the boxing details. The ability to suspend any disbelief and completely lock-in to the story results from execution of the boxing details--the sweat, blood, broken bones, and mind-numbing blows (though not a gratuitous display of violence). If boxing is a sport that you can't tolerate, this film may not be for you. In its entirety, the film is about relationships. If you're on the edge about boxing, hang on to the film for the relational story telling. Each major character wrestles with both their gifts and demons and each with a web of relationships. Whereas many sports films rely on adrenaline to carry the story, the adrenaline ultimately overpowers anything that could be a story. As one of the producers, Wahlberg and his colleagues executed a balance in this film that rises above the stereotypes and cliches of sports and boxing.

Through the attention to detail in film making in The Fighter, the story joins a rare group of film plots: we see an authentic depiction of forgiveness. Too often forgiveness is seen as a minor detail to tie up the story. Since The Fighter is based on a true story the forgiveness aspect rings true, but there are no guarantees a screenplay will render accurate the emotional toil of forgiveness rather than a trite pronouncement.

I gave this film a lot of leeway because I love sports and working-class hero stories. What I didn't expect was such a tight and well-crafted story and screenplay. I forgot I was watching a film and realized I was closer to the drama than I ever imagined, and forgiveness carries the day.

The Interpretive Challenge of Unconference11

2011-05-20T03:47:00.000-07:00

Human life in this age places value on experience. Each experience elicits a degree of response. A television program can be watched with varied responses. The responses can be laid out on a continuum. Some responses offer a short shelf-life: "can you believe that American Idol vote last night?" Each episode will only be dissected for so long for some. For others, the episode may accumulate with others and inspire a vocal performance career.

Any experience offers an opportunity for interpretation. I have attended numerous continuing education events over the years. Each learning experience, though varied in content, offered a very similar structure. A speaker/teacher of great repute travels and meets traveling participants for a provision of information. It's like I back my empty informational truck into a dock for a load of information. Though the content may be complex, the transaction is simple. I pay money. I receive information. I receive a binder or folder full of notes and handouts I will not likely crack open again. I receive a Power Point file attached to an email that clogs a memory stick or sits on my hard drive. I may have more information, but the information nourishes my body as if I attempted nourishment by swallowing a palm full of vitamins without eating any food. The intake at a conference may hold nutritive qualities, but the information isn't sticky. The typical workshop/conference/symposium in church circles fails the stickiness test. My library is a testimony to this observation. I store many binders with hope of using the material again, yet I often don't. This failure doesn't speak to the quality of the information, but the context in which it was delivered. Every educational experience challenges the participant to interpret the information to their own context. Conference hosts over the years have recognized that more people from each context increases the stickiness of the information (Bring a group! Save money! Broaden the application!) but the methodology still lacks the stickiness necessary for integration.

Unconference11 was a powerful experience for me. Not only because it represented a spiritual milestone for me, but because there was something incarnational about it. Fleshy and sticky. There was not only information shared, but relationships were graciously hosted with God and others. Every participant was given the opportunity to contribute and be respected. This is not what usually comes out of a conference. The ethos of a typical conference resembles a rock concert. If only you can get close to the star, get a backstage pass, some of that star quality might rub off into your context.

Last night I ate dinner with good friends who, like me have attended numerous conferences and workshops. They know the routine. Talk about the greatness of the speaker, the cutting edge discovery or technique, the idea that will change our contexts. I realized last night that I couldn't explain the experience in the same way that I have explained other learning events covering about 20 years of my life.

The challenge of interpreting Unconference11 remains. What will matter in these weeks ahead? First of all, I gathered with a small group of folks passionate about subversive and new ministry developments. I hope to resource this group of people as I enter into a trajectory of ministry new to me. I am thankful for that opportunity. Most of all, the interpretive challenge of Unco11 will not be whether I can share what exactly I learned and experienced among friends. I was respected. I was valued. I was given the opportunity to contribute both truth and beauty. I was healed and loved. No "conference" I have ever attended has done that. My inclination is that though my work and life in the church looks a lot like the conferences I have attended for 20 years--a lot of vitamins, but no nourishment. The interpretive challenge is not that I can replicate Unco11 in my context, but whether in my context I can share in the work of healing, respect, love and creativity. This sounds a lot like Jesus to me.

Unconference11--a gathering of ideas and a ministry of encouragement--my story

2011-05-17T14:07:00.000-07:00

At the opening worship for Unconference11, one of our leaders asked us what do we bring to this gathering? What do we have to offer?

This is a good question. For over a year I have planned to attend Unco11. It represents an odyssey for me, through developmental challenges for my daughter and all of the changes that represents in my family life, vocational discernment, and what it means to have friends and colleagues during this season of my life. Before my daughter's diagnosis in 2006, I was heavily involved in continuing education and colleague groups. That participation ground to a halt. My family needed more focus. The window for our daughter to thrive was one that required specific attention. So that is what Melanie and I did. It is always our life that we do this for our families, but this was particular. We are at a place where we are confident in our ability to care for our daughter. It is time to reconnect. Unco11 represents that for me.

What do I have to offer? It may sound simple--but I can offer encouragement to others. I also came to be encouraged. It is in that space of encouragement that God is present. One might think that a gathering related to the church is supposed to be encouraging. But it is rare. I have been to numerous gatherings of church folk over the years, and I may have learned things, but the Spirit to implement that learning was lost in a sea of handouts and notes. Lost in the work of control freaks and egomaniacs, of which I was sometimes (and still can be) one. Observing the folks (mostly via Twitter #unco11) and Spirit who birthed the Unconference I saw a place of encouragement and learning that didn't rely on or assume old pedagogy. Plus, the use of technology and social media are used without suspicion.

I am very pleased with my investment in this gathering. I have intentionally encouraged others, and I have been encouraged. I am thankful for the many hours of labor invested so that I may experience Christ's presence.

I am still processing the discussions, and that may come with a later post. If you are looking to find a company of encouragement centered on a discussion of what we can collectively and individually offer to the life of the church, keep your eyes open for the next gathering of Unco!

Another untimely review: Conviction

2011-05-09T10:16:00.000-07:00

What am I willing to sacrifice in order to pursue a life passion? Does a life passion take on a different scope if that passion is a family member?

At one point in the film Conviction, Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) has been advocating and fighting for her brother (Sam Rockwell), convicted of murder for nearly two decades. She sacrificed her marriage (it ended in divorce) and nearly gave up her relationships with her children in order to prove her brother was wrongly convicted. Waters graduated from law school and passed the bar in order to serve as her brother's council for his murder case. She went through well over a decade without a friend, except for a fellow law student (Minnie Driver) who doggedly befriended Waters and endured Waters' tireless work and persistence in obtaining anything that could help her brother. In a conversation with her two teenage sons, one of the sons states that Betty had given up her live to save Uncle Kenny. Waters paused, looked at her son incredulously, as if the concept of sacrifice never crossed her mind.

The title of the film is a perfect play on words and a deep reflection on the nature of passion. Surely, it is a good story about the pitfalls of any justice system, but for me this was a film about the relationship between conviction and passion. Waters was depicted as someone who did not see herself as passionate or one who sacrificed. The other question that came up in conversation about the story with my wife was whether Waters' relationship with her brother was unhealthy. This was a sibling pair who could be analyzed in psychological parlance as "fused," rooted in growing up together in an abusive household. I wonder if Waters (as she is depicted) is a Christ-like figure. Christians for centuries have written, taught and preached to fellow Christians and the world that we should reflect and embody Christ's "sacrifice" for humanity. I am not a Christian proponent of a sacrificial Christology. The sacrificial nomenclature is hard to escape in the Bible and Christian theology, and I though I don't wholeheartedly reject it, I don't embrace it.

Looking into the character of Waters and her (loving? obsessing?) pursuit of securing the freedom of her brother, I can't help but think of Jesus. In my limited knowledge of the Bible and theology, I can't recall anyone who bothered to ask Jesus whether he believed that his death was a sacrifice to him (and I would be glad to learn from my readers where I could find further reading on this topic) or whether theology has bothered to ask the question about the nature of sacrifice as it relates to love. In addition, how is a sacrifice beneficial (or even loving) to a relationship if the person who made the sacrifice for the "sake of the relationship" has to constantly remind the other person that they made the sacrifice in the first place?

Over the years in my life of Christian faith, I've been asked to accept the idea of Christ's sacrifice at face value, that I had better appreciate it and think about it to the point of guilt and shame. Only then will I have faith. Until my work with my theological education teachers (mostly Pat Keifert and Walter Sundberg at Luther Seminary) I had not considered the multiple dimensions of sacrifice in the Christian faith and theological discourse. Conviction serves as a reminder of the multiple dimensions of understanding sacrifices and relationships. There's plenty of guilt and shame to go around in the world, and I am thankful for the love and grace I have received in the body of Christ. Many have lovingly given in more ways than I can count so that I may have a better life (did they always see it as a sacrifice?). Watching Conviction offered me some new questions and insights to the interplay of love, justice, sacrifice, guilt and relationships. It wasn't a sacrifice for me to give up four dollars and two hours to watch the film.

What happened to casting lots?

2011-05-03T17:45:00.000-07:00

Many Christians of varied theological persuasions argue for a stronger relationship with the Bible. From the literalists to liberals, the Bible is seen as an important component to living a life of Christian faith. Pay attention to Jesus. Pay attention to God's commandments. Follow the household codes of Paul. The Bible argues for a communal consciousness. Christians usually take their pick about what is important to them.

What happened to casting lots?

Since Seth Godin ruminated on the coin flip in April, I've thought about the dozen or so call processes I've watched closely. How many opportunities and resources are wasted with superfluous information gathering and study all in the name of "discernment?" I'm not sure the congregation learns any more about itself, prepares itself better for mission, or puts itself in a better position to have a better ministry relationship with its next pastor through a prolonged call process lasting a year or more (there are plenty of call failures out there). At what point is the line crossed between learning and resource wasting (I wonder about that and my own formalized education)? I believe reflection and study are important--I would be in the wrong line of work if I didn't. One thing Godin does not examine is that we are probably averse to coin flips because the primitive practice somehow insults our modern level intelligence or abilities. Are our methods at reaching a decision or a call choice reliable? Are they faithful? Godin looks at what we call in the church world "discernment" as a stewardship issue. There comes a time when a coin flip is better. If we want to make it sound biblical, let's call it casting lots.

Casting lots appears 23 times in the NRSV (by my count), and this methodology is depicted as faithful, fair and reliable as any study or prayer method. Let's be faithful prayers and students. But let's be good stewards and go for casting lots. Maybe then we won't overstate our importance, and even be better stewards in meantime.

Loyalty Admired in Alberta with the Edmonton Oilers

2011-04-07T09:37:00.000-07:00

I am an Edmonton Oilers hockey fan. I continue to learn about loyalty.

Though I don't dissect roster moves or organizational strategy with the Oilers like I do the Seattle Mariners, when the conversation turns to hockey, I have a reference point with the Oilers. I began following the Oilers when I was about 10-11 years old, watching CBUT out of Vancouver in my homes in the Puget Sound area. With Hockey Night in Canada and The National with CBC News, I became acquainted with Canadian life. My youth soccer team also participated in game exchanges between the two countries, and I traveled to Surrey and Vancouver, BC. My interest in Canada grew to where it is a hobby to follow Canadian life now in politics, culture and sport. During my early teenage years, I latched on to the rage in Canadian NHL hockey--the Edmonton Oilers, and I grew to enjoy watching Wayne Gretzky, Jari Kurri, Mark Messier, Grant Fuhr, Kevin Lowe, Craig MacTavish and Esa Tikkanen. They were a great team--an NHL dynasty. After Gretzky left, I continued to follow the team through thick and thin (and very thin right now).

Almost nine years ago, I checked off a line on my unofficial bucket list and made the trek to Edmonton with my wife, eight months pregnant. We flew into Calgary for my brother's wedding (I was jazzed he was marrying into a Canadian family), rented a car and fulfilled my longtime dream of attending an Edmonton Oilers home hockey game. Melanie was a good sport to attend this sporting event. Not a sports fan, she uses these opportunities to sample local cultures, exploring the arenas and stadiums to test cuisine and people watch. However, she noted it was hard to explore during the game because no one left their seats outside of intermission. About 90+ percent of the fans were wearing an Oilers sweater (jersey), or some other Oilers garb. The only other experience close to that in the 'States for professional sports was the St. Louis Cardinals Baseball Club--but Edmonton even had them beat. Melanie almost felt she couldn't leave during game play because eyes were glued to the game. The Oilers lost the game to Brett Hull and the Dallas Stars, 5-4 in OT, but if my hockey allegiance was ever in doubt, it was solidified that day.

During my recent trip to visit my brother and his family (Jimmy is working on his dissertation in Sports Management at the University of Alberta), we took in the must of every trip, an Oilers hockey game. The Oilers are a poor team this year. They are a team in transition--getting younger and faster, but also suffering a significant amount of injuries. Some nights they are barely competitive, and we saw them soundly defeated by the Los Angeles Kings, 2-0. It wasn't even that close. The Oilers have the worst record in the NHL this season, but the fans still turn out, they still watch the game. They pay high prices for tickets, beer and other concessions. Their sweaters aren't cheap, either. This game made me notice something that would surely be present in the United States with a bad team. US professional sports fans tend to vote with their feet. They tend to not show up for a bad team. The ones who do show up will boo their team. During the game we watched, the Oilers would have earned loud derision from the fan base. But not in Edmonton that night. They still lined up at the souvenir boutiques on the concourse to purchase a tactile piece of hope--new sweaters depicting the numbers of their developing heroes: Taylor Hall, Jordan Eberle, Magnus Paajarvi, to go along with their current stars, Ales Hemsky and Shawn Horcoff.

Sometimes I question blind loyalty, but I admire the loyalty on the banks of the River Saskatchewan to the Oilers. Though the team heroes are admired, it is also recognized that players come and go. The team and what it provides are the focal point for community, encouragement and camaraderie. These points are not lost on the hockey fans of Edmonton, Alberta. I wonder in the midst of such social phenomena whether there are equivalent applications for my life in the church. How much loyalty is too much? When does loyalty blind people to the opportunities of the future? How does God work in the midst of community? These were good questions for me to ponder as I admired my very small part in a community to which I admire from afar through my television, computer, and the occasional visit.

Escaping the Tyranny of the Urgent: Opportunity for a Grounded Life

2011-03-22T10:07:00.000-07:00

What makes a fulfilled day for me (in no particular order)?

1. Exercise
2. Prayer
3. Reading
4. Writing
5. Connecting with loved ones
6. Organizing
7. An additional intentional, thoughtful creative act

Sometimes these acts are dovetailed together. For example, sometimes I pray while I exercise. Sometimes I connect with loved ones through reading or writing. Outside of leading in congregational life (I am currently without a congregation), I have no excuses not to do each of these seven things each day. I don't have an excuse to not do these even when I'm working outside the home, but sometimes the tyranny of the urgent takes my focus off these things that ground me. This time in between congregations for me is a time to get grounded (in the positive sense).

What are your actions for a fulfilled day?

Consequences of the "Ownership Society" Considered

2011-03-22T09:33:00.000-07:00

Americans don't have to look far to see the how the desire for home ownership led hundreds of thousands of people down a destructive path. Foreclosures, a teetering economy, and bankruptcy have people closely considering their personal, household and even congregational balance sheets.

What are the roots of these economic consequences?

Some people believe that economic unraveling is purely a management issue. People will look to the President, the Chair of the Federal Reserve, the Chief Financial Officer, the Business Manager, the Pastor, the Treasurer, the Family Budget Manager as the source for leadership in managing financial well-being for any nation, organization or family. If the budget is tinkered with just so, if the investments are adjusted and organized properly, all will be well. I'm not so sure.

This reflection is not meant to lift up a particular ideology. I am not espousing communism, socialism or even capitalism. What is a wise understanding of ownership?

Under consideration:

1. I believe that God owns everything. I am a steward of what belongs to God. I truly own nothing. I take care of what belongs to God. This knowledge affects my day to day decisions. This basic premise helps me do generous things, even though I am often selfish. It affects how I live with my wife, how we teach our children, and how we interact with others. Even with a steward mentality, stewards still make decisions about the degree of control they use. This is where management comes in to play.

2. Congregations have an interesting relationship with ownership.

Some congregations are mortgaged with their facilities to their eyeballs.
Some congregations have saved and/or used their own sweat and labor, worshiping God in a church building that carries no debt.
Some congregations generously share their facility with the community; many groups from the area meet and gather for serving and being served.
Some congregations lock up their buildings after Sunday mornings and make statements like "we don't want to have too much wear and tear on the building," or "this is God's house" as a means to decide which groups meet in the church building.
Some congregations proclaim "the church is not a building, it's people." How this statement is lived out takes on many forms. Sometimes it means rejecting building ownership. Sometimes it means mortgaging a future so the congregation can do ministry for people in their building now.

3. For the most part, I think we humans have a relationship with property that I'm sure we will never figure out. Each congregational facility scenario carries pitfalls and consequences. Eugene Peterson in his introduction to the Old Testament book Haggai discusses that the argument that the church is not a building, but people is an incomplete argument, because as human beings, we occupy both time and space. There will always be a need for a place to be in relationship with God and with one another. Place matters. How are we to understand place?

4. The challenging aspect of ownership for many households and congregations involves resource allocation in order to be "owners." Even if debt-income ratios are judged as favorable, there is a significant loss of flexibility of both time and cash in many ownership situations. A building takes personal energy for both congregations and families, not only money. Meetings and labor are needed to maintain the facility, not only income. If a congregation or a household has a great idea or initiative that serves others in a powerful way, that idea is subject to the mortgage and the debt-income equation, and a calling to serve is often compromised.

I've learned a few things from this reflection. "The Ownership Society" was a dangerous proposition on a large scale, possibly because there were ulterior motives or other values were compromised in order achieve ownership. "Ownership" can be good to a certain extent (though there is no magic line that determines how much ownership is good, and having someone decide is foolish). The shakeout of household and congregational ownership is a matter of values and priorities. What do we value? How will we set our priorities? What resources do we need in order to live faithfully in accordance with our values? For Christians, the stewardship-ownership interface creates many challenges, but articulation of values and priorities create a reference point for daily action.

A few of the recent influences on my thinking:

Richard Florida writes, tweets, researches, speaks often on variables related to ownership and creativity. I encourage reading his blog, books and articles. Check him out when he speaks on television.
A blog post from a Forbes writer on home ownership.

Post-script

The who decides question looms in the background, especially for congregations, but that is for a future post.

A Litany of Farewell--A Ritual for Celebration and Forgiveness in Community Life

2011-03-10T16:24:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday, First Lutheran Community Church in Port Orchard gathered with me as their interim pastor one last time to give thanks to God and to one another for the blessing of serving together. Good-byes are not easy for many people. I have heard several stories of pastoral departures meeting the equivalent of surgery without anesthesia. A well-executed good bye is good for all souls present, for it recognizes the gracious activity of God in our corporate lives, yet also reminds us of the talents God uniquely gives individuals that make ministry a joyful undertaking.

More importantly in this day and age, a ritual of forgiveness between pastor and congregation enacts an example for living. Forgiveness can be as messy as a goodbye, yet a ritual such as the following "Litany of Farewell," names both the successes and failures, and not glossing over the sin and wrongs of our shared lives. By recognizing sin and proclaiming forgiveness congregations and pastors gain some insight into the fragility of the congregation-pastor relationship and our shared need for God.

The "Litany of Farewell" is not unlike other rituals for departure, but this is one shared by several of my colleagues in interim ministry. Feel free to modify and use it as a way to mark changing corporate relationships in ministry.

A Litany of Farewell

Leader: A church community is constantly changing. Loved ones come to the end of their lives; new lives are born and baptized into the faith community. Individuals and families come and go throughout our life together. It is important for us to recognize and mark well these times of passage, these endings and beginnings. Today we bid farewell and Godspeed to Pastor Joe BW Smith who has served us as Pastor for the Interim for the past 18 months, whose time with us has now drawn to a close.
Pastor: I thank you, the people of First Lutheran Community Church, for the love, kindness, and support you have shown me these past months. I thank you for accepting my leadership and receiving me as pastor in your midst for this time of transition. I recall with joy the many things we have been able to accomplish together, and with sadness the things we were not able to do. I ask your understanding and your forgiveness for the mistakes I have made and for the times I may have let you down.
Congregation: We receive with thankfulness the ministry you have offered us in the time we have shared. We accept that you now leave us to minister elsewhere, trusting that God goes with you on that journey. Your presence among us will not be forgotten. We are grateful for the time you have been with us and ask your forgiveness for our own shortcomings and our sometimes flagging faith.
Pastor: I forgive you your failures, as Christ has forgiven me, and graciously accept your gratitude, trusting that our time together and our parting are pleasing to the Christ we are called to serve.
Leader: Do you, the people of First Lutheran Community Church, now release Pastor Joe from the duties of Pastor for the Interim?
Congregation: We do, with the help of God.
Leader: Do you, Pastor Joe, release First Lutheran Community Church from turning to you and relying on you to serve them as Pastor?
Pastor: I do, with the help of God.
Leader: Do you, Pastor Joe, offer your encouragement for the continued ministry here at First Lutheran Community Church?
Pastor: I do, with the help of God.
Leader: Let us pray.
Congregation: O God of all creation, whose love for all is trustworthy and true, help each of us to trust the future, which rests in your care. During our time together we have experienced laughter and tears, hopes and disappointments. Guide us as we carry these cherished memories with us in new directions until that time when we are completely one with you and with one another. In the name of Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.
Leader: Go now, Pastor Joe, with our blessing, surrounded by our love and led by the promises of God, the presence of Christ Jesus, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Congregation: Amen!

Faith As A Red Herring

2011-03-03T05:27:00.000-08:00

"We can get through this if we just have more faith."

In various situations with congregational, family and personal lives of Christians, people come to a crossroads. A decision looms. A course of action beckons. Fear lurks in the background. I am thankful when people consider faith in their thought processes. I am thankful that faith enters the equation of daily life. Pastors celebrate a living faith. I also believe God celebrates.

I say "Christians" in this case, even though all people face tough decisions in life. Yet, Christian congregations, families and individuals often say that faith will get them through a particular crossroads in life.

Faith buys some time. How can you argue with faith?

Then the situation deteriorates. Faith buys more time.

I suppose faith will remind me of God's love even though I failed to make a decision and the scenario topples like cheaply built structures in an earthquake.

Faith is a red herring when it is proclaimed, yet distracts from the issue at hand. Faith is a red herring when it is used to avoid making a tough decision.

Maybe it's better to say, "I'm scared. God, please guide me." Then I can call on others to act in faith with me.

I'm still learning about faith. But I've learned it's not faith if I ignore the issue at hand--it's fear.

Pastor-Congregation Member Friendships (and Interim Ministry)

2011-02-28T18:54:00.000-08:00

Pastors are intimately aware of how people often approach them differently when they discover their line of work. My favorite is when people apologize for dropping an f-bomb in front of me, especially when that person wouldn't blush for saying the same thing in front of their grandmother. I was troubled by this at first. "Hey, I'm cool (not). Swear away."

Since I got over that dynamic, the question of how to relate to people in a congregation still remains, give or take the awkward apologies in social settings. A pastor does not operate in a clinical setting (unless they are some sort of licensed therapist). Yet, a pastor carries an expectation of presence in the midst of life's most turbulent times. The connection is powerful. I know I must be proactive to find friendships outside of church life, lest I lose perspective from fusion. If I minimize the connection with people in the congregation, there's an incarnational loss of shared faith and practice.

Because I live away from the interim ministries I serve, when I leave the congregation, a majority of the relationships essentially end. While we serve together, we have a shared focus. That does not mean there are not opportunities for friendships in the future; however, the relationship changes, as does the proximity. When I am no longer the pastor in a congregation, I do not officiate at weddings, funerals, baptisms, do pastoral care, or address congregational dynamics. I do not want to create triangles involving me, the called pastor, and others in the congregation. This situation is challenging to navigate. There is reciprocal value in the pastor-congregation member relationship. I deeply appreciate the support, camaraderie, service and learning shared in congregational ministry. Once again, the dynamic is changing because I will no longer be the pastor at First Lutheran Community Church in Port Orchard after March 7. I value the connections of yesterday, and maybe there will be connections tomorrow. But the relationship will change. I am still learning what that means, and a pray for what my colleague Marcia Carrier called, "a space of grace" as I see members of the congregations I have served in the future.

The Church and Longevity--do Congregational Ministries Jump The Shark?

2011-02-24T13:04:00.000-08:00

God's love endures. But why must the Annual Women's Ministry Pig Roast endure?

God's grace endures. But why must the 10am Thursday Bible Study endure?

God's wisdom endures. But why must the monthly trip to the soup kitchen endure?

Endurance is overrated in congregations. Maybe because belief in a God with enduring qualities creates a desire for people in a congregation believe that their ministry should endure forever.

I'm not saying that fellowship, Bible study, and serving neighbor are not important, but that endurance in congregational life is often lifted above everything else. Ministry needs to be evaluated, and people need to be given permission to let go, or at least give away leadership.

I'm a little melancholy that two of my favorite television shows are going off the air this season. I find great story telling, writing and acting on Big Love and Friday Night Lights. These shows have lasted about five seasons, and they will not jump the shark. The shows will end with me wanting more and being energized about new opportunities to learn from new stories in the future, instead of being disillusioned with what used to be and where it is now.

Do congregational ministries often jump the shark because of the attachment to endurance? Would ministry be better served putting a particular program to rest, then re-start, re-focus and re-energize working toward a shared value, such as education, fellowship, or serving the neighbor? Do some of your endurance ministries end in disillusionment because of over attachment to endurance itself? I often return to a favorite proverb: be clear about the ends, and flexible about the means. Ministries are usually formed because passionate people responded to a calling to meet a need, use their gifts, act upon values. That passion serves people, and many lives are affected in a positive way. Rather than lament that endurance failed, give thanks for the lives that were impacted.

After the Vigil: Imagining Ministry Location

2011-02-22T19:11:00.000-08:00

One of the last places I ever thought I would "do" ministry was at Wal-Mart. Over the years I've heard other ministry stretches. Laundromats, baseball games, red light districts, and state fairs (to name a few) are places colleagues have gone in the name of outreach, and ministry "beyond the building."

I'm not against any of the aforementioned places as venues for spiritual connection. Sometimes my imagination limits me in what kind of connection can be made with God and others. Limits on ministry sites have more to do with my lack of imagination than appropriateness of locale. I ascribe to the observation that we don't have many stories of Jesus in the worship space or the education wing of the local synagogue in the Gospels--therefore I try to imagine places outside the church building for connection with God and others. That is the example we have from Jesus. Sometimes it takes a prompt from the Spirit to recognize the opportunity.

When my colleague, Sarah Roemer, from Spirit of Life Lutheran Church (Port Orchard/Olalla) and I talked about response to the shooting in Port Orchard about 1 month ago, we considered hosting a vigil at a church (Or maybe only I really did. Which one?). The church building then seemed like the wrong place to be. Sarah moved us toward meeting at the Wal-Mart parking lot, at the site of the shooting. Pastor Sarah met with the Wal-Mart management for permission, I started getting the word out. Monday night, Wal-Mart parking lot, candlelight vigil. None of the things that made worship comfortable for me were present, and my blood pressure raised. Before long, a few tweets marked by the hashtag #POShooting gave us phone calls from local news outlets, and big portion of the vigil promotion was handled by television.

I had an interesting conversation with a reporter about the frequency of vigils in television news coverage. If you're in this line of work (television journalism)you end up covering a lot of vigils, especially the night shift, he told me. I turned that statement over in my mind all Monday afternoon. One might think that with all the vigils in response to violence, that violence would subside, or that people might question the importance of vigils.

Why do a vigil?

The section in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew with the beatitudes seemed appropriate for the vigil: blessed are those who mourn...

That part was easy, but I continued reading. "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven (Matthew 5: 14-16 NRSV)."

Light in Jesus' statement is a given for his followers. We ARE the light of the world. The vigil was an opportunity to share light. In gathering together at the sight of the violence, people had an opportunity to overcome their fear and reclaim the space for peaceful gathering and living. Even at a Wal-Mart parking lot. Even when appearances say that vigils don't matter. I know that vigils do matter. My imagination was tweaked that chilly, rainy Monday evening. The time was not comfortable, the place was not comfortable, but it was a common, public space where fear abated and the light of Christ was shared.

Another untimely review: Winter's Bone

2011-02-19T20:04:00.000-08:00

Decades of my life passed by before I had any awareness of what rural meant. I used to think a small town consisted of around 10,000 people.

Then I moved to Kansas for college. Mile after mile of grain fields passed by my windshield. Abandoned houses, farm implements and rusted vehicles dotted the landscape--some remnants of the farm crisis of the 1980s. I guessed that people moved to the cities. As a college student, I merely passed through, hoping to learn something about a sharply contrasted life from the middle and upper middle class homes along the shores of the Puget Sound and Lake Washington at some point, but my eyes were fixed on Lawrence. I inquired about rural areas, and my friends from the small towns couldn't understand my curiosity.

Years later, my family moved to South Dakota. Very similar landscape to Kansas, butI learned more exploring the smaller paved arteries many miles off the well-traveled thoroughfares of the Interstate. I traveled to Hudson, South Dakota, site of my first interim congregation. I became accustomed to the abandoned buildings, closed schools, and stares weighing upon me that might as well been a painted sign on plywood that said, "you don't belong here." It actually didn't take long before I was welcomed, sharing in unfamiliar cuisine, chatting at the local garage, and getting my haircut at the local hairdresser and learning more from her about local culture than I ever would as a pastor. The hospitality of neighbors taught me the questions I could ask, and sometimes I received an earful merely standing somewhere, curious, without asking anything.

One day a local resident dished out matter-of-factly that some people get high by placing hubcaps over cow pies. They bake the cow pies under the hubcaps in the hot sun, drill a hole in the hubcap, and suck the gas through a garden hose. I try not to waste my time with disgust, I continue to ask...why?

That story of the resourceful high and the why behind it still haunts me as I watched a deeper story of Ozark rural blight in the film "Winter's Bone." Though rural blight in the film is hard to ignore, the relational variables of secrets, adversity, and courage carry the plot.

Ree is a 17-year-old young woman patching together a family in tatters while negotiating the terror plots and lies of her local kin branded in a meth ring. Ree is the clear hero of the story, but the question I asked throughout the film is, will anyone take courage with her? Some of those closest to Ree are enemies of positive changes, illuminating the human condition. I think about people in my life and the places where I serve and their prospects of making positive changes in their lives. Whether the story I observe is addiction recovery, congregational change, or personal achievement, the resentment associated with moving to a better place in life brings destruction from people who are supposed to be supportive and wise. Ree is learning the ways of the world and wise beyond her years. But in many ways she is a child, and she meets allies when she least expects it--Ree is a local hero who also learns the importance of interdependence.

I continue to think about this film. After serving 10 congregations, what was affirmed in this story is that both poverty and secrets kill. There is no clear path to wholeness in the stories of poverty and secrets, but the church would go a long way to put its energy into being generous and present as opposed to shaking its head. Easier said than done. God, have mercy.

Mainline Recovery

2011-02-17T10:28:00.000-08:00

I didn't learn the term Mainline Protestant until my seminary days. During seminary, I increased applied dexterity of its usage, as I observed professors and students analyzing, discussing and lamenting both perceived and documented denominational relationships, strengths, weaknesses, cultural influence, history, theologies and mission partnerships.

Calling the denominations of Mainline Protestantism "Mainline," is similar to identifying myself an athlete, even though I haven't been a competitive athlete since the 1990's. My ability level has changed ever since I needed reconstructive knee surgery in 2004. I was an athlete at one time, but I would be delusional to call myself an athlete now, even though I still participate in fitness. I still put together enough training to race or prepare my body for a physical test of some sort, but I am no athlete. The fact that I am no longer an athlete does not deny my humanity. I still need to practice faithful stewardship of the body God gave me--I have other endeavors in which to serve God that require energy, thought, discernment, articulation, concentration, and occasionally a need to run. My body still needs to be at its best. But I am not an athlete.

The nomenclature of "Mainline" remains stuck in both academic and ecclesiological parlance. This usage is also delusional much like any self-identification as an athlete. Just because the denominations of the Mainline have been in decline for the better half of a century does not take away that these denominations are still part of the body of Christ. They still have an opportunity for faithful service in the name of Christ. Like a professional athlete, it's challenging to give up the broad social influence it once had. Professional athletes retire over and over again, hoping to regain a sliver of influence they once had, because it feels good (ask Brett Favre and Michael Jordan). Mainline Protestant denominations still approach their contexts recognizing their denominations have been in decline for decades, but energy is focused on who or what is to blame. A sense of entitlement of broad social influence rings in writing and speeches of Mainline Protestant denominational leaders--this entitlement showed in worship wars and the living on the back end of the church growth movement, as well as today's battles over human sexuality. Denominations of Mainline Protestant traditions continue trying to catch lightning in a bottle, hoping to grow the church. We love to stack our delusions on top of each other.

I do think my Mainline Protestant colleagues are turning a corner. Maybe we're progressing through the stages of grief and embracing a spirit of faithfulness. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, I never understood the culture of broad social influence of Mainline Protestantism. I saw remnants of this during my years in the Midwest, but like any individual or group in recovery, there's a desire to name the hurts of the past. I still think "Mainline" is delusional. I've tried to create my own terminology to identify the past. I tried "20th Century Brand Protestantism," which receives the occasional courtesy laugh, but doesn't enter into conversations. Mainline Protestants are in recovery, and in the midst of discovering how God desires us to participate in the body of Christ and follow through in faith, we'll occasionally need to talk about what was. As long as we recovering Mainline Protestants aren't delusional about our applications and place in society, we can call our collective traditions what we want, and I'll stop pulling out my hair. I can't afford to do that, anyway.

Music as pastoral care and building the community of faith

2011-02-15T20:04:00.000-08:00

The battle over worship in this congregation started in 1967 when _________________ played a guitar in worship. The war has gone on ever since.

That was a statement of an elder member of a congregation I served as an interim when I asked about the stories related to conflict over worship. One might call it the Thirty Years' War. The "Worship Wars" don't have the acrimony they once did even five years ago. I never understood the approach of the Worship Wars in "Mainline" Protestantism. Arguing over preferences produces no clarity, no mission, no deeper connection with the Divine.

I am not a worship scholar. I wouldn't even call myself gifted in worship methodology or theology. But I ponder the effects of music on my soul and my longing for God, desiring healing and wholeness, and where I see Christ. I have to provide the musical connection with God for myself, because the church for 30 years has been more interested in arguing about style preferences than offering to build my relationship with God and others in their spiritual growth. Recently I've been thinking less about my musical preferences and HOW I am connected to God and others by a particular song.

1. The role of testimony. Preachers and other deliverers of the Gospel can appropriately share their personal stories about the activity of God in their lives. I find meaning in that connection--why can't it be done with music? Case in point--a pastoral care song for me is from Melody Gardot's Who Will Comfort Me. The song is good in and of itself, but it means even more in light of Melody's own path of healing. Gardot faced brutal injuries and the healing setbacks and triumphs in her life come out in this particular song. Testimony brings out a tradition of the Psalms. Sometimes lament, sometimes victory. Sometimes confidence in God's presence, sometimes longing questions and frustration. Who will comfort me?

2. Songs of confession and songs of intercession. Years ago I had numerous opportunities to preach for the St. Dysmas prison congregation in the South Dakota State Penitentiary. I had some great conversations with the worship band. Though they loved playing worship music and praise songs, the jam sessions revealed more about their walk with God. What saddened me was that they thought their jams had no place in the worship service. One band member and I had a discussion around Molly Hatchet's "Flirtin' With Disaster." The song provided an entry point for this young man's story, his crimes and sins, his incarceration, and his relationship with God. I always thought it was a good song, though not a favorite. The song is now a favorite because it is an opportunity for me to pray for this young man--for healing, for forgiveness, for a newness of life each day, and a new start when he gets out of prison.

Unfortunately, my work with the Worship Wars of the past 30 or so years has been more about addressing conflict and congregational dynamics. In this season of my life, I hope for articulation of music as pastoral care and faith community building.

Excuse me--while I commute home tonight and listen to tunes from my iPhone, I will be in a place of worship. Through Christ, creation (music) and relationship--God heals.