Stepping into Love

Walking into the JL Zwane Presbyterian Church in Gugulethu Township near Cape Town, South Africa was like diving into a deep basin of love. Singing, welcoming, praising, and preaching were on tap. This is a vibrant congregation of about 1200 members. They have a significant ministry for people with HIV/AIDS, an after school program for children, computer training for all, and vibrant women's ministry, along with many others. 

The infection rate is very high in the townships. As high as 40% of the residents are HIV positive. And that rate is quickly rising in the 14-29 age group. “We are all affected even if we're not infected.” This is what we heard from one of the pastoral assistants who works with this ministry. It is a significant health issue for the people of South Africa.

We met with Pastor Spiwo Xapile, Senior Pastor of the church, before and after the service of worship. He is a brilliant man and a dynamic speaker who moved in and out of Xhosa and English so seamlessly that it was astonishing. We got the start of some of his stories and the end of others. But his message was clear -- Jesus did not come to keep the status quo. He came to transform the world.

The question the pastor asked of us was about inclusion of LGBTQ folks in our own denominations back in the USA. He wanted to know if the church made decisions with that community or about that community?

This church in Gugulethu is trying to do ministry with and in conversation with -- not for or to -- others. “Nothing about us without us,” said Pastor Spiwo Xapile quoting his favorite theological maxim about social justice ministry. 

When he visits US churches he asks them to take him where they would never want to take him in their communities. “Let me see your worst,” he says. “Show me the places that you are embarrassed to show others.”

A pastor Spiwo visited in the US was led by one of the church members to see the worst of their city. Afterward the local paper said to his guide, “I never knew that was going on in Pensacola before.” His African-American guide said, “You never wanted to know.” Wow.

What is the worst we could show about our cities, our churches, or ourselves?

Are we willing to show our worst in order to acknowledge it? Own it? And work to transform it?

That's why Jesus came --- to change the way things are. Let's welcome, sing, praise, and preach from and about our worst places so that we might invite Jesus into the process of transformation and new possibilities. 

That is why he came after all.

Context and Relationships

 “Justice is an active attempt to create the necessary space for everyone and to repair harmony.” From Roads2Bridges by Leon Oosthuizen and Xola Skosana.

Working for justice means addressing the glaring income inequality issues around the globe. Justice is not justice while so many people have nothing. Poverty is not just a lack of material goods like food and clothing. It is about a lack of dignity and opportunity. These were some of the important things we heard in South Africa.

On Monday, January 11, we met with 15 pastors from the Township of Khayalethu, outside of Cape Town. We spent time talking about ministry concerns and about the church today - both in South Africa and in the US.

The population in Khayalethu is officially 1 million, but the reality is more like 2.5 million people in the township. Many live 8-10 in one bedroom homes. It was eye opening to say the least.

We shared who we are, our jobs, and what we love most about God as a way to begin to get to know one another. The answers were similar - just as you might expect.

A sampling of the answers about what we love most about God included: God’s love for all, grace, forgiveness, we are never alone, God meets us in our broken and messy places, bigger than we can possibly know, changed my life, is enough, is a graphic artist, loves me even when I don't love God, takes a side for those who are oppressed, God walks with us always, and is full of surprises.

The love for God and chance to share the faith led to breaking out in praise and prayer several times. It was powerful and profound. Beautiful music. Amazing spirit in that room.

We formed small groups and talked about the differences and similarities between our churches. Our South African brothers and sisters expressed concerns about the high level of frustration of pastors, having no buildings, receiving no stipends or salary, receiving no support from the government or authorities, and multiple communication issues.

We talked about the variety of gifts that pastors have and the ways the church is filling the gaps of the people - food, services, mental health, addiction, and children's ministry are important parts of their ministry. Many are bi-vocational. They wanted to talk about administration problems - it is more holistic than filling out ministry reports and more complicated without resources. This was an interesting conversation to me.

We shared about the struggles many people experience without basic human needs being met. “How do you minister to people who are hungry without feeding them?: asked Pastor Denny. “We feed them physical food and spiritual food.” It is often not enough but we come back each day and start again. They rely on each other’s ministry as well. They refer their members to ministry programs at other churches when possible.

We talked about our passion for ministry. Structure continues to be an issue - most have no buildings. Learning new things and having time for it all is tough. We shared that sometimes being stuck with an aging and decaying building can be crippling for a ministry as well.

Context and relationships. That is so important. And that is what our conversation kept coming back to. Context and relationships.

I was clear that we can't just talk about how tough things are in the midst of ministry in poverty plagued areas. We have to provide resources and training to offer a way out. Hope is great but if there is not something concrete that helps someone move out of poverty and acquire skills to get new jobs then it is pretty empty and false.

Conversations between the 14 of us and the 15 pastors was fascinating in that there were clear similarities. But the level of frustration for our South African ministry partners is not about upkeep of old buildings, but it is about having no resources but the hands and feet of the pastors on the ground.

The ways we face similar issues was astonishing. But I have never been in a church surrounded by razor wire to protect the facility from crime in the area.

The ways we love the Lord and serve by being present with the people is the most important thing I learned in this time together.

South Africa Trip - Pre-Trip Notes

I am heading to South Africa on Sunday, January 3, 2016. I will be traveling to Johannesburg, Cape Town, Robbin Island, Pretoria/Tshwane, Soweto, Stellenbosch/Paarl, Dinokeng Reserve, and Pilaneberg game park. I am traveling with a group of 14 people on a humanitarian/social justice tour.

“Travel is organized through Mission Vision Tours with the intent to engage conversations of race and racism, systemic oppression of groups of peoples, and to explore solutions to such injustices.” (From MV Tours Humanitarian Travel Letter)

We are meeting with authors, pastors, Truth and Reconciliation Commission members, spending a day with kids from an orphanage, swimming in the Indian Ocean, spending time at a game reserve, hiking the mountains near Franschhoek, and swimming in the mountain pools.  It is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I am delighted to be going.

While I have taken some significant time off from my blog, this occasion gives me the chance to start again – for at least the two weeks that I am away – and take you on this journey with me. I will post pictures, blog about my thoughts and experiences, and keep my family up to date about how things are going.

One of the things that I am most excited about is hearing the stories of those living in South Africa who have experienced the pain, racism, and systemic oppression related to Apartheid and post-Apartheid South Africa. I think there is much to learn.  And I look forward to opening up my heart and mind to hear what they have to say. I want to sit there and soak in all that I can.

This trip will help lay the groundwork for one of my next book projects about social justice preaching. And I think there are some interesting parallels between the US and South Africa in the ways people of color have been treated.

I invite you to follow along if you wish and to experience this amazing culture through my eyes. I have much to learn and am extremely grateful for the opportunity.

Being Set Adrift for God

(I have taken a break from blogging for a while but several events lately led me to post this and get back into the task of blogging.)

I am not afraid to admit that I like control. I don’t like other people controlling me or telling me what to do. I never have liked it (just ask my Mom or Dad).  Despite life requiring that I allow others to lead in many situations, I enjoy having elements of control over my own life. In the midst of chaos I like to exert as much control over the situation as I can - so that the chaos begins to ease as much as possible. I don’t think that I am alone in this. Most of us like control. It’s human to want things to be fixed and static but life often does not work that way.

Trying to exert control in times of discernment and reflection can be even harder. Following where God leads us in our lives can be a scary and intimidating process. Exerting control in those circumstances is often problematic. Giving up control to God is hard for many of us, but we feel like it should be done and should be easier. It’s often not.

I work with seminary students (folks preparing for pastoral ministry in some form) and often meet with them to talk about their ministry and life discernment process. I also have the opportunity to talk with quite a few prospective students who are still trying to determine what God is calling them to do and be in their lives and any potential ministry. I have come across a number of persons who denied their call for decades because they did not or could not give in to the discernment process and acknowledge their call into pastoral ministry or some other discernment issue in their lives. Giving up control and allowing God to lead is indeed hard – despite how faithful one is.

Recently, a guest lecturer was preaching in our chapel. She shared an ancient Celtic tradition of setting sail in a rudderless boat, relying on the wind of the Holy Spirit to guide you as you discerned who God was leading you to be and where God was sending you to share that state of being. As she explained the process, I came to understand that one who is discerning their life direction embarks on a journey to see where God is directing them by being set adrift to catch the winds of the Spirit – with no way to pilot the boat themselves.

Canoe set Adrift by Poucher

The image was both refreshing and terrifying at the same time. It was a refreshing image to contemplate. Being set adrift to go where God directs us is powerful. Giving into the will of God is a profound thing that can set a person free from the bonds that are keeping them from fully being who they are called to be. Giving into the breath of God and go where the wind takes you opens up potential ministry and life experiences that no one could ever imagine on their own. Being able to launch yourself on that kind of adventure would take a lot of fortitude and guts.

That’s where the scary part comes in – letting go of your own need for control and to actually stop trying to control the boat is important. The very fact that the boat is rudderless means there is no directing the boat on your own. Of course, left to my own devices, I could probably use my hands or feet to push/pull/navigate the boat. And I would likely want to do just that. But that’s not what we are called to do in discernment.

The task is to stop trying to control things. We are called to let the Spirit lead and to go where God directs us.

And that’s tricky. The easy thing is to say to ourselves or others, “Just have faith.” But the reality is that letting go is against our human nature. That means even having faith is not all that we need to get us to let go. We have to “own up” to our reluctance to give up control and allow God to blow us where God will. And we need to acknowledge that it is not the easiest thing for us to do. We should not beat ourselves up about this when we fail and try to steer some of the way.

Discernment is tough. So is living into the will of God. But we are called to live into this anyway – to find a way. Being honest and working through the discernment process patiently is paramount. Give yourself some grace when it’s not easy. And try paddling as little as possible when you are in that rudderless boat.

It’s ok. God loves us anyway – even when we fail. And the Spirit will continue to blow to guide us even when it is harder to let it guide us.

Let’s make this promise to each other and to God – we’ll keep our hands and feet inside the rudderless vehicle as much as we can and enjoy the ride.

All is Lost? Not hardly!

 These past few weeks many in The United Methodist Church experienced just the latest moments of pain and anguish at the hands of our church. The trial of Rev. Frank Schaefer for celebrating the wedding of his son, Tim, to his partner several years ago was held in Pennsylvania this month. It was a gut-wrenching trial, conviction, and penalty phase. It had to have been an unbelievably painful moment for Frank and his family – and was, as well, for many persons and groups working for full inclusion in the UMC.

Previous to this, the Council of Bishops asked for charges to be filed against retired UM Bishop Melvin Talbert for performing the wedding of two men in Georgia. The request to file charges was another blow to many who have felt blow after blow in the church. And there are more trials, most likely, on the horizon.

They have brought about yet more instances of anger and frustration for many in The United Methodist Church. And it has been another time of crying out in righteous indignation and “hearing” the absurd silence of too many in the church.

Also this past week, I sat in a movie theater watching the Robert Redford movie All is Lost. The movie is about a man fighting the elements after his yacht is damaged while sailing alone in the Indian Ocean. It is, in my opinion, a cinematic masterpiece. The images - both under and above the water - were stunning to the point of almost being overwhelming. The acting job by Redford is a tour de force. I sat breathless for much of the movie. It was simply incredible.

The movie is at the same time one of the loudest and the quietest movies I have seen experienced.

The crashing waves, spooling lines of rope, surging storms, spilling cargo, billowing sails, and howling wind are so loud at times that it makes the listener uncomfortable – but not because the volume was loud. It was because of the impact of the sounds.

The reason for this heightened audible impact was because the main character, Redford, only speaks three times in the entire movie. The sounds from other elements of the film are even more profound due to the absence of speaking from the only actor ever seen on screen.

Redford only speaks three times in the entire movie –

First he speaks into a radio he is trying to repair and pleads for someone to hear his SOS. He says it over and over several times asking for anyone to hear his cry of desperation. His voice is raspy and dry. The suffering he has already endured is evident.  He is pleading for help. He is asking for someone to hear his plea. But it is clear that no one hears his cry.

LGBTQ folks in the UMC have cried out for years for someone to hear their pain. Cries for help and change have gone unheard and unheeded by too many in the church.  We cannot even seem to be heard enough to agree that we disagree on the issue of homosexuality in our church. It’s as if the apparatus we are using to cry out is broken and the message is unable to get to those who need to hear. Or maybe they hear, but choose to ignore the anguish because they are so certain in their own positions on the issue.

Second he cried out in rage when his predicament becomes worse and worse – crying out in a loud voice “Fu#k” with all of the righteous indignation he could muster. We are beyond that point in the UMC. There is no way to know how many LGBTQ persons have felt our denomination, how many pastors have left over our position on sexuality, or how many person called into ministry have said way will they venture into our system. Many do so in deep pain – crying out with all of the righteous indignation they can muster. The strains are loud right now – on both sides of the debate. But the painful anguish of those excluded is pushing our church and I for one will continue to cry out with them.

The final time he speaks in the film is crying out to a passing ship, “Here! I’m here! Here! Help me!” The United Methodist Church often seems to be a gigantic passing ship not even aware of those who they have left behind. But I know many who are keenly aware. And many who are working hard to make their voices and their stories heard and known. We have Bishops, District Superintendents, pastors, laity, and leaders from all kinds of positions in the church whose hearts and minds are being changed to be receptive to the cry for full inclusion in our church.

In the end, the voices of those calling for inclusion are getting louder and louder. The media sees the UMC as a bully right now. Many are decrying the fact that despite the rules, a father celebrating the marriage of his son and his partner should not result in a church trial. Many are looking for our church – one of the last mainline Protestant denominations to embrace inclusion – to be who we say we are, United. Many are calling on our church to live out our doctrine and theology of grace. And many are pleading with rasping voices for our motto, Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors, to finally come into reality.

All is not lost – justice will prevail. Because I believe that grace is bigger than exclusion and inclusion will win in the end.

Stained-glass Ceilings and Silencing Women

I teach in a seminary in Philadelphia and every semester I am teaching different classes with a changing group of students. This semester, I’m teaching two courses that I am seriously enjoying. One is an exciting class called Gender, Sexuality and Leadership. We are looking at how our gender and sexuality (and other elements of their personhood – education, race, ethnicity, socio-economic status, political beliefs, religious tradition, etc.) determine not only how we lead but also how our leadership is perceived by others. The course is a senior seminar so all of my students are about to graduate and enter into ministry – as pastors, as leaders in other ministry settings, and as public theologians.

As the course has explored the issue of how our gender is seen in leadership – especially in the church and religious institutions – we have had some intriguing moments of discovery. We have had guest speakers who have shared some startling stories of women being silenced and marginalized in their leadership. We have heard stories of women not being listened to in meetings and their leadership being defined as “less than” their male counterparts in a number of ways. And we have heard stories of women being denied in ministry and leadership by other women as well as by men.

When I hear our guests talk about their pastoral experiences I am reminded of my own. As a woman in pastoral leadership I have had some tough moments. One such situation happened in my first congregation. It was a small rural community in eastern Kansas. The town had a population of about 350 and the little church had 95 members. We were lucky to have 45-50 in weekly worship and to hit 65-70 on high holy days.

When I arrived I was told about Martha (not her real name). Martha was a very wealthy widow who had always had a significant amount of power in the congregation. Her financial gifts made up a large part of the annual giving of the congregation and therefore she had high expectations of pastoral attention.

Within the first few weeks of moving to the community I attempted to make an appointment to go see her in her home.  I was doing the same with many members – some who had not yet been in church since my arrival, some who might be in need of care, and others who I was simply told I needed to contact. Martha kept making appointments with me and then would cancel. I tried but was not sure how to proceed. Finally I decided to just drop by to see her one afternoon.

She invited me in but made it clear after an initial conversation, that I was not her pastor and never would be. I politely asked her why and she stated, quite emphatically, “No woman will ever be my pastor.” I tried to discuss the topic with her but there was no budging her. I asked if there were any possible ways that I could minister to her and if she would continue to come to church. She said she would come back to the church the Sunday after I left and would hold her financial support until that time as well. I pastored there for three years and she never darkened the doors of the church and never sent in her pledge.

I never could get Martha to explain to me why she was so opposed to women in ministry. She was not willing to talk about it to me. So I was left to wonder.

About a year into being appointed there, I heard that she was in the hospital in the next town over. I was told that her condition was serious. She was scheduled to undergo heart surgery to correct the problem she was experiencing. So I showed up to visit and offer pastoral care the day prior to the surgery. I knocked before entering her room and was told I could enter. So I cautiously entered her room to check on her, to let her know I cared, and to pray if she wanted. As I came in I said “Hello, Martha. I just wanted to come by to see how you are and to bring this get well card from the congregation.” She looked at me and asked if I would leave the card on the bedside table. I walked over to the bed and laid the card down. I asked her if I could pray for her and she responded “No, thank you.”

That was it. She turned in the bed away from me and I knew she was done with me.

I did ask a colleague from the UM Church in the town where the hospital was located to go by and offer her care before and after the surgery. And he did. Since he was a man, she welcomed him in and allowed him to provide her with care. That was all I could think of to do.

This experience is not rare and it’s not new. Women in ministry have come a long way but they experience these kinds of ministry denials often. Women are silenced and ignored. Women are limited in their ministry by stained-glass ceilings and sexist feelings.

It can be very painful and women can be left to feel helpless. I don’t pretend to have all of the answers, but want to offer a few suggestions. So how do we counter all of this?

First, we can continue to be the best pastors we possibly can be and be who God made us to be. We can continue to speak up and challenge those persons and systems that keep women from being in ministry or from sharing their gifts.

Second, we can enlist our brothers in ministry to be our advocates and allies so that they can help those closed to our voices finally hear us. They do not become our saviors – they become our partners.

Third, we can enlist and encourage our denominational leaders to be our advocates and allies as well and challenge them when they won’t be. We can hold them accountable.

Fourth, we can share our stories and help support other women in ministry by creating spaces where they can share theirs. We can be people of grace and peace in the midst of denial and silencing. We don’t have to hold all of the pain or feel like we have to solve it all but we can be someone who listens, learns and heals with others who have been hurt.

Fifth, we can strive to pray and keep our spiritual center so that even in times when our ministry and gifts are challenged we are able to keep on pastoring to those who will receive our gifts and graces. And this will allow us to keep on being a pastoral presence even for those less open to our ministry.

Lastly, we can have to hold fast to our call, lead with integrity and know that God called us – no matter what anyone else says.

Preaching in the Midst of Evil

This past weekend, we experienced yet another mass shooting of innocents. We saw the pictures on TV of the theater in Aurora, CO and were once again dismayed and bewildered by the horror we inflict upon each other in this world.

One man - a mentally ill person, a modern day terrorist, a bad man, or just a mixed up guy - used the guns he had acquired to rain terror on a group of innocents at a midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises. It was evil and violent. It was tragic and horrific.

So what happened on Sunday in worship services around the country?

Some preachers discussed the shooting only in their prayer time, some had a moment of silence for the families involved, some addressed it fully in their sermons, and some avoided it because they did not know how to address the evil from the pulpit.

The truth is - we as preachers of the Gospel - must address the evil around us. We must name the bad stuff and acknowledge that these acts are not God's will for our world. We have to be willing to speak the truth. We have to be willing to preach a Word of grace and love in the midst of violence.

We have to state clearly that God does not punish people with hurricanes and earthquakes. We have to be firm in our conviction that God does not want us to inflict harm on one another. We have to speak the truth that violence is not the way we are to live.

Sometimes there is serendipity in the chosen text for the day. Sometimes the text speaks a word we need to hear, as the lectionary did the week after September 11, 2001. Sometimes, though, the text for the day does not speak to the events happening around us. When this is the case, we need to consider changing the text of the day to find a word of grace more appropriate to the events and emotions to which we need to minister.

Speaking truth in these circumstances means acknowledging that God does not wish evil for us, but God is certainly present with us in the midst of evil - holding us, calling us, challenging us, and leading us out of the dark.

So let’s preach the Gospel of grace, love and hope to the people in our pews, folding chairs, park benches, couches, and everywhere else we encounter folks who need to hear the Word.

Preach it, people. Preach it.

The General Conference Post That Would Not Come …

I have tried for two weeks to write about the recent General Conference of The United Methodist Church.  I started to write in the weeks leading up to the conference about my hopes and dreams for our church, for our shared ministry, and for our celebration of and praise of a mighty and compassionate God.  I wrote and erased so many posts that I gave up.  My dreams were too big and my wishes too bold.  I dared not write them down.  Every time I did it scared me too much to post them.

In the first week of the General Conference I tried again as I saw amazingly blessed worship and an international church come together in praise of God.  I was stunned by the visioning and hope many delegates came with.  And I relished the stories they told about church growth, vital ministry, and stunning outreach.  It moved my heart and soul.  Then holy conferencing on the issue of sexuality sent many into a tailspin as some GLBT folks were bullied, intimidated and called names during a time when real conversations were supposed to be happening.  And I sat as no words would come.

I tried again after a good friend, Mark Miller, was silenced on the floor of the conference when he tried to speak about the bullying.  He was allowed to speak about some of the pain and the bishop prayed but he was still silenced.  I stood with Mark in the middle of my living room.  My ranting words were good for me to let loose but too much to share with others.  I wept for my church.  And no post came.

But I found myself once again attempting to write after only 56% of my church’s delegates voted that God’s love is available to all persons.  Why only 56%?  Because they thought it was a slippery slope to accepting persons they believe are incompatible with Christian teachings. (“They” will continue to say it is the practice of homosexuality that is incompatible but in truth they are condemning the very being of the GLBT members of our denomination).  That post was deleted as well.

I saw some hope in the legislative committee work over the weekend session and when a promised amendment to be presented on the floor was trying at the very least to get the church to acknowledge we are not all in agreement with the United Methodist stance on homosexuality.  I had some renewed hope and a sense of reserved joy.  That was dashed when some of the delegates instead spoke of bestiality and stoning of GLBT folks in the UMC from the floor.  The petition failed – as it has before.  That post never even made it onto the computer screen.

I tried to write after GLBT advocates entered the bar of the conference to witness to their own and others’ exclusion and to attempt to keep any more harm from happening on the floor of the conference.  But my tears blurred the screen and I could not find the words.

I once again made a valiant effort after the plan to restructure our church and work together for a renewed future for our denomination failed in committee, was resurrected and remade into PlanUMC, was adopted on the floor, and then was ruled unconstitutional by the Judicial Council.  We were back to square one with no plan and little time until the end of the conference.  But Bishop Goodpaster reminded us we still have a structure in the 2008 Book of Discipline and he said it better than I could.

So Sunday morning I got up and went to my UMC/UCC federated congregation in Chestnut Hill, PA.  It is a reconciling, affirming, anti-racist, environmentally active, advocacy-centered congregation that worships like no other church I have ever been part of.  I realized once again that the theology of my church – The United Methodist Church – is one of grace and love.  And it is lived out in this church in amazingly vivid ways.

A feast at my wonderful church.

But I am angry and hurt.  I was born into the UMC – I am a cradle Methodist.  My father is a UM pastor and I have a Methodist pastor in every generation back several generations.  I have an ancestor who was ordained by Francis Asbury.  I have lived and bled Wesleyan theology since birth.  But I am disappointed and angry.  And I am unsure what comes next for my church … and that makes me sadder than I have been in a very long time.

In the meantime I will continue to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ as passionately as I can.  I will continue to share my faith with others and bring the gospel to those who have not heard it before or who have had a bad experience with the church previously.  I will continue to advocate for full inclusion of all persons.  I will continue to teach my students to love the church – but to love their passion for transforming lives more.  I will continue to prepare candidates for ministry in the UMC by teaching them the history, doctrine and polity of our church.  I will continue to work around the corner and around the world to bring about an end to gun violence, racism, sexism, domestic violence, poverty, homophobia, inequality and other injustices.  I will continue to hope and work for a church that lives the gospel – fully and completely.

And I will continue to pray for my church, for all who are hurt and are impacted by the decisions of the last few weeks at General Conference – on all sides of these issues.  And I ask you to please pray for our church, for all who hurt, and for all who are impacted by these decisions.

Hate in a Smiley Face Card

I received my first anonymous hate mail today at my school.  It came in a card shaped envelope with my (misspelled) name typed on the front with my school address.  Inside there was a cute smiley face card.  I opened it and found a typed note – it was nasty and vile and attacked me personally.  The language was ugly and it sent me spinning for a bit.  I was not prepared for the reaction I had to it.

I have always taught my seminary students that there will likely never be a day in ministry when someone is not upset with them.  Often these folks let us know when they are frustrated with us either by confronting us in person or calling us to talk.  Sometimes they act out in a committee meeting or other group to let us know their feelings.  But this felt different.

I have been picketed by Fred Phelps’s church, Westboro Baptist, after being interviewed for the Kansas City Star followed General Conference in 2000 when they reaffirmed the language in our Discipline (church law) forbidding gays and lesbians from being ordained.  I stated in the article that I was pained by the decision and hoped we moved toward full inclusion someday.  Westboro picketed my church the next week.  It was nasty and painful, but this felt different.

This time it was anonymous.  In church ministry we often know when folks are upset.  When Westboro picketed me I knew who they were and why they were there.  But this was different – this felt so personal.  It was aimed at me personally.  So it felt personal.

The smiley face threw me off.  The cute and sweet smiley face that has always stood for fun and humor made it feel safe to open. That’s exactly what they expected.  They expected me to open it thinking it was safe.  And they expected it to hurt me, which it did.

And that made me mad.  I was upset about the power of that card to make me feel badly.  I have heard for years that “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”  But that is bunk.  Words do hurt.  And words have power.  We have to choose to use our words for good and to not give too much power to those that aim to hurt us.  I gave those words too much power today, but I also knew I just had to process it some.

This evening I found out several other seminary professors around the country got the same cards today.  So it was not just me – and that helps in some way but also makes me even more determined to NOT let them win.

We have made someone mad – by speaking the truth about our beliefs or about who this person believes us to be.  Whatever the cause I will not be deterred.  I will continue to be who God made me to be.  I will continue to speak the truth and cry out for justice in many different ways.  I will continue to try to counter hate with love.

And no little smiley face card filled with hate will stop me.  So whoever you are … you DON’T win.  Love does.

being spiritual but not religious

I have read several blogs, articles, and research data lately about the numbers of younger adults who claim the label "spiritual but not religious." Some believe the number of persons claiming this status could be as high as 1 in 5 overall and as high as 72% of Millennials (18-29 year olds).  That is a significant number of younger adults claiming that status.

The first time I saw this data I was stunned by the honesty and audacity of naming who you are in these studies.  While it is also distressing to some degree as a minister of a mainline denominational church, I find the truth telling important.  Owning that you are not sold on how faith is expressed in the institutional church is becoming more and more common.  And denominational studies show us that the number of folks in the church is in decline.  So we need to pay attention to this information.

The truth is that sometimes I want to claim no connection to the church as well.  There are times when the church makes me feel so badly about Christianity that I want to flee.  There are too many people who feel hurt by the church to ignore that fact.  And there are too many people who see the current expression on the church as irrelevant to brush that off.

So what do we need to do?  Some say we should become more orthodox so that people know what we stand for (and by extension what and who we are against for way too many) explicitly.  Others say we should be more flexible in who we proclaim we are so that we attract many different groups.  Still others want to bring in all of the elements of modern culture to be more in tune with the very generation we are missing in our churches.  All of these ideas are short-sighted and cannot alone reverse the process of decline or the leaving of church by many younger people.

Part of the problem many churches have is that they are unsure who they are.  They are unsure who they are serving. And they are totally disconnected from the community around them. Many of our churches do not even know who the people are who live in their vicinity.  How can a church appear relevant if they sit in isolation with no clue what is happening in the homes and businesses next door and around the block?

Another problem is that many churches continue to live in the past.  They long for days gone by when they had more members or more money and they mourn that loss. Others know that “golden age” is no longer their reality but they worship, plan and live as if that was who they still were.  This kind of disconnect is dangerous and misleading to all.

A third problem is that the most public event we have as communities of faith - our worship and preaching - is too often listless, not awe inspiring and lacks passion.  Too many gather as social clubs to "do" worship without energy or enthusiasm about what we have gathered to proclaim.  Too many are going through the motions of doing church - not truly BEing the church in the world.

I have some ideas … maybe they will spark some thoughts and discussions for you as well.

So how do we begin to turn the tide?

First, we have to leave the comfort of our pews to live and work in our communities.  We have to build relationships with the people who live near our communities of faith.  We have to BE the church in communities by meeting people's needs where they live.  We have to be connected to the people around us in as many ways as possible.

Second, we have to create worship that feeds people from the feast that is our faith.  We often come to the feast starving but the food served is not something these "spiritual but not religious" folks are interested in eating.  Many are using 16th century liturgies, with 17th century building styles, and 18 or 19th century music in a 21st century world.  There is nothing wrong with tradition and for many still in the church these are important things to hand on to.  But we also need to create worship that enriches newer generations – that is relational, participatory, awe-inspiring, image driven, experiential, connective, and missional.

Third, we have to live out our faith in compassion and justice ministries.  We have to be active in making the world a better place.  Working to feed the poor by sending canned goods to a shelter without engaging those in need is good but it is also problematic.  Sending in a check for world mission is noble but it does not get our churches engaged in the world.  We have to do the work of living out our theology in public – calling for the end of injustice and working to make that happen.  It is time we live and work missionally IN the world.

Finally, we have to be open to listening to the needs of those who see the church as irrelevant and see what it is they are looking for.  That does not mean we have to give up everything to do what they want – but without the conversation we lack the option to be in that conversation. 

I do not claim to have all of the answers – but maybe what I have here are some options for a conversation that is sorely needed.

Calling an Audacious Community

I was asked recently to preach for the installation service for a PhD student at her new church in central Pennsylvania.  I was happy to agree to preach at the service and enjoyed greatly seeing the affirmation of her calling and the acceptance of her by the congregation. Present were her Bishop, Synod Dean, extended family, colleagues, and her church community – both past and present.  It was a moving service.  The congregation affirmed the call of the pastor to their church through ritual, symbolic gifts, and an acclamation of her family’s presence.

The text she chose for me to preach on was Isaiah 42: 1-9 – the Servant of the Lord.  The image I love so much in that passage is the image of a communal calling.  God is calling on the community – Israel – to bring righteousness and justice to the nations.  It is a communal message calling the people of Israel to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison, and to free those who sit in darkness.  The community is called to be the instrument through which the nations are called into relationship with the Divine.  It was to be through Israel that the nations came into the light of God’s salvation.  This is the power of community called to act.  That is an audacious notion – a whole people being called into servanthood.  It is a stunning call. 

This passage is later seen as a Messianic prophesy of God’s servant bringing justice, eyesight to the blind, freedom for the captives, and light in the darkness in a more individual manner but this passage in Isaiah is about the community being who God called them to be.

Being a called community is important.  It is a sacred and holy thing to respond to God’s call on our lives as individuals and as communities.  It is vital to acknowledge and accept that calling.  Acting on that call is sometimes more difficult. 

God calls us into community and God calls our communities to act.  To do this God chooses us, calls us, anoints us, equips us, and commissions us.  Some communities answer their call by being involved in prison ministry.  Some answer through advocacy around issues of hunger and poverty.  Some answer their call by working for a greener world.  Some answer their call by being the place for youth and children ministries.  Some answer their call by working on health care issues.  Some answer in other ways.  But all are called to answer that call – to be the community of faith called into action by God.

Being part of a community of faith is a wonderful thing.  But it takes more than gathering in community for worship and praise – even though that is a vital part of their communal lives.  Living up to the call of a community of faith means being the hands and feet of Jesus in the world. And that means getting up off the pews and putting one’s faith in action.  Living and working as a community means making a difference in the world – and that is an audacious thing! 

So communities of faith out there – answer the call of God and go be audacious!