Author Archives: jledmiston

I’m writing from Louisville (still here) where the Presbyterian Mission Agency Board is meeting.  This is my cream in the Oreo cookie between the Annual Event of the Association of Christian Educators (last week) and the selection of General Assembly Committee Leadership (next week.)  But in the throes of Church World, can we talk about Lady Doritos?

When I first heard that Pepsi Cola (the good people who make Doritos) is marketing a snack chip that saves women from 1) making unladylike crunch sounds in public and 2) licking our manicured fingers to clean off the nacho dust, my mind went  – surprisingly – to Dr. King.  One of his sermons was featured in last Sunday night’s Dodge Ram commercial, displaying once again that usurping theological content for secular promotion is an unfortunate idea.  His actual sermon – based on Mark 10:35-45 – was about the problem with marketing.

I imagined Dr. King’s Drum Major Instinct sermon going something like this at next year’s Super Bowl:

You know, those gentlemen of massive verbal persuasion.  And they have a way of saying things to you that kind of gets you into buying. In order to be a man of distinction, you must drink this whiskey.  In order to make your neighbors envious, you must drive this type of car. In order to be lovely to love, you must eat this kind of snack chip.”

Alas, PepsiCo does not, in fact, plan to create and market Lady Doritos.  “We already have Doritos for women,” the company reported yesterday.  “They’re called Doritos.”

Thanks be to God.

Just when you think the whole world has lost every speck of sanity, PepsiCo redeems itself.  There will be no Lady Doritos.

May we also redeem ourselves by spending our precious energy creating what truly inspires and transforms the world for good.  Some of us try to do this in the name of Jesus Christ.

Image of some of the tweets that made me laugh out loud yesterday as #LadyDoritos was trending.

“McCain has Stage 4 brain cancer and has been absent from Washington since before Christmas. He is not expected to be on Capitol Hill this week. Sponsoring this immigration measure is a stark departure from McCain’s aggressive stance on border security.”

I’m struck by this story about a generous and bipartisan plan regarding undocumented immigrants proposed by Senator John McCain (R-Arizona) and Senator Chris Coons (D-Delaware).  Once upon a time Senator McCain was less tolerant towards “Dreamers.”  But his time is more precious now and there’s a final legacy to establish.  And he wants to get past this so that Congress can move on to other things like benefits for our troops.  Apparently he has decided that – in these last weeks/months/years he will be more merciful towards those he has more harshly judged before.

My family has observed this up close and personal.  Although Dad was a fundamentally generous man, he spent his last weeks with terminal cancer offering some surprisingly tolerant statements about issues he had been less tolerant about before.  He was going to be meeting his Maker soon and he wanted God to be as forgiving as he was suddenly willing to be.

The reality of certain death changes everything.

Although I do not wish President Trump ill, I wonder what would happen if – today – he was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer.  How would his policies change, knowing that the end of his life was unequivocally in sight?  Would he spend his time ensuring that his loved one’s inheritances were iron clad?  Would he be kinder on Twitter?  Would he suddenly change his words about immigrants, refugees, women, the poor, and other “losers”?   Would he have an authentic Come To Jesus moment?  My hope is that he would become kinder and more merciful.

We are all called to repent – not just so we’ll get a ticket to heaven – but because it’s the way God created this world to be here and now (as well as in heaven.)

My prayer is that Senator McCain experiences deep love both now and eternally.  He has already experienced deep hell in this life.  But in the meantime, I’m grateful he seems to be willing to show lavish mercy on this side of the grave.

Are we the kind of people who need a terminal prognosis to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly?  I hope not.

Image is of Dean Smith‘s new gravestone in the old Chapel Hill Cemetery which quotes  Micah 6:8 .  The LORD requires us  “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God”  To the left is a detail from the top of the stone. courtesy of RME.  March Madness is soon upon us.  Another reason to live.

I own a lot of stuff.  Although I’m quick to get rid of broken things and clothes I don’t wear, there are still boxes we have never unpacked since moving from Arlington, VA seven years ago.  Do we really need things we haven’t used for seven years?  There might be a Bible verse about that.

Two things about having dead parents:

1. If we had kept every sentimental thing, we would need a warehouse.
2. I still have all their love letters from just before and just after their wedding because they lived apart for several months even after they got married.  (Dad was based in AZ with the US Army & Mom lived in NC with her parents for a while even after the honeymoon.)  Note: their letters are boring.  “I got a new white top today,” Mom wrote in one not-so-scintillating missive.

Because we’ve cleaned out parents’ and grandparents’ houses, I am hoping to avoid a similarly exhausting fate for my own children.  And in my situation, my siblings did most of the work.

Yesterday’s Sunday Morning featured a man who collects washing machines.  It gave me chest pains.  All I could think about it that this man’s heirs will “get to” deal with this after he passes away.  Washing machines.  Why couldn’t he have collected Pez dispensers or pennies?

Collecting things is the hobby of the privileged.  Rich people collect art.  The rest of us (who are also quite rich by global standards) collect everything from salt and pepper shakers to aluminum Christmas trees.  But what happens when we die?  Do our grandkids bear the brunt of our sentimentality?

Religious organizations deal with this as well in myriad ways:

• We can’t possibly merge with The Church on the Hill because all our church china says First Church in the Valley.
• When Miss Judy died, she left us her Hummel collection and we can’t get rid of them, so we’re displaying them in the church parlor – which probably says to visitors, “We are old and don’t care who knows it.”
• We’ve saved every copy of every church bulletin just in case.
• Our worship service is the same as it’s been for fifty years because …. Red Hymnal.

We are a sentimental bunch while most of the world is increasingly not by virtue of human tragedy.  Refugees don’t get to be sentimental as they run for their lives.  Natural disaster victims joltingly lose their stuff in fires and floods.

What if we focussed less on accumulating stuff and more on accumulating experiences – like deep human conversation or travel that broadens our world view?  We might find that we become more generous with sharing what we have.  We might find that we didn’t need those things after all.  We might find that we are not what we own.

Churches are not their buildings or their Hummel figurines.  We are the people who long to connect with each other and with God, who are looking for meaning and purpose, who are broken and afraid (which makes us cling to our things.)

I’m not saying we shouldn’t own anything.  I’m just saying that when we travel lightly we more easily appreciate what really matters in life.

A friend and colleague shared with me yesterday that as her daughter and son-in-law were “dating” an ocean apart from each other, they regularly shared “Ten (Honest) Things You Should Know About Me” lists.  Although they’d only briefly hung out after first meeting, by the time they saw each other a second time, they felt like they knew each other pretty well.

I wonder if Pastor Nominating Commitees and Candidates might do this too. Total honesty and specificity would be required.  I can imagine a PNC putting together a list that looks something like this:

1. We are a great church but we are worried about a few things.
2. Some people are desperately worried.
3. Some of our members are cranky.  Maybe more than a few.
4. Miss Esther has been making homemade donuts for 19 years for our coffee hour.  Nobody messes with Miss Esther.
5. The truth is that we have only seven kids in Sunday School.
6. We are really good at crafts.  At least a couple of ladies are really good at crafts.
7. We’ve hosted a fish fry every First Friday of October for 22 years.
8. Most of us hate the fish fry.
9. Nobody talks about it but we have a gay couple that everybody loves. Nobody messes with Dan and Steven either.
10. We say we want to change, but we don’t really want to, but we have to and so we hope to call a pastor who will love us into doing what we don’t want to do.

Many pastors out there would love to serve this church.  Many pastors are looking for congregations who tell the truth about themselves and allow their leaders to share their truths as well.

Would love to hear what Ten (Honest) Things your Church might share when looking for your next pastor.  Or you could share your own.

Therapists tell us that we need to deal with our past before we can move forward. The more traumatic the past, the more difficult and necessary it will be to wrestle with it before we can be whole and healthy.

So . . . if we have endured a trauma regarding parents, pets, illness, accident, warfare, breakup, or fiery crash – know that those issues will come back to bite us over and over again until we either deal with it or die. (And maybe God makes us wrestle with it in the next life.  Who knows?)

The same is true for religious institutions.  Congregations and groups of congregations (mid-councils, dioceses, etc.) can be traumatized by unhealthy leadership, scandal, abuse, and heavy loss.  Obviously the good people of Sutherland Springs, Texas have been subjected to both personal and corporate trauma.  Two years ago, fire tore through a 200 year old church building in New Jersey.  Thousands of church buildings and homes were destroyed in last fall’s hurricane season.  Those are obvious traumas to both individuals and to church communities.

What is less obvious but perhaps even more destructive – because there is shame and blame involved – is trauma caused by individuals in church organizations:  the trusted leader who stole money, the mentally ill leader who emotionally abused staff and parishioners, the sexual misconduct leader who violated both the trust and bodies of human beings in his pastoral care.

Diminished trust is one of the most challenging results of trauma in congregations and groups of congregations.  How do we trust again when we’ve been lied to, emotionally wounded, violated?

I have no easy answers for how to address a breach of trust, but I do know that an institution cannot be healthy again until the actions and structures that destroyed the trust are addressed.  It might mean going back in time and offering lament and confession.  (It’s never too late.)  It might mean holding people accountable.  It might mean making amends to victims.

On this Groundhog Day in the Year of Our LORD 2018, what it never means is hiding in a hole and hoping spring will come six weeks later.  We as the Church need to deal with the past before we can flourish in the future.  God surely wants us to live in abundance.

What is it that your congregation or congregations need to deal with?  It’s going to be hard, but resurrection happens after death and destruction.

Image of Jacob Wrestling with God/the Angel by Chagall (1963)

“New Member Classes” for congregations run the gamut from Show-Up-And-You-Are-A-Member to a Ten Week Series teaching everything from where the water fountains are to the basic tenets of Reformed Theology (at least for Presbyterians.)  The point has often been that churches:

1. Want new people to join.
2. Want new people to learn about the congregation/denomination/maybe Jesus

I experienced a New Members Class last weekend that turned this model on its head.  Instead of focussing on new people learning all about the Church, the focus was on the Church learning all about the new people.

It’s about building relationships.  It’s not about gettting people to join “us.”

People join congregations hoping to connect on a deeper level with each other and with the Holy  Unfortunately, we in the Church tend to confuse knowing about God or about the Church with knowing God and knowing the Church.  Especially in denominations that value education – like mine – we can fill our “spiritual activities” with book studies and Bible studies and current event studies and then we go home smarter but nothing ever changes in our deepest souls.

The Pentecostals are on to something: feeling it is important.

I believe we must grapple with theology too (i.e. thinking is important) but in our increasingly isolated and lonely culture, authentic relationships give our lives meaning.  Imagine asking questions in church (or wherever) that spark relationship-building conversations:

• What was your childhood like?
• What were your family’s religious traditions?
• Share a time when you’ve felt safe.
• Share a time when you felt warm feelings towards God.
• Share a time when you felt angry towards God.
• Who has been your spiritual mentor?

Maybe somebody will care (later) about the finer points of your particular church’s history or your denomination’s organizational structure.  But I’m guessing that most of us are looking for relationships that show us what the deep affection of God feels like.

Thanks to MPPC for inviting me to the New Member gathering last weekend.

A few days after my mother died in 1988, we were cleaning out her closet – which felt like a breach of privacy. But it proved to be a treasure chest of joys.

First – it smelled like her.  Her clothing would not keep the scent of her perfume forever so we breathed it in while we could.  We found Christmas gifts she had already purchased. (It was September.)  And – best of all – we found letters written to my siblings “to be opened on their 16th birthdays” written by the Rev. Wilkes Macaulay on the days of their baptisms.

Mom had forgotten to dole them out on C, M, & S’s 16th birthdays, but we had them now.  (I had been baptized by his predecessor.) Wilkes had written each letter about their baptism in hopes that – at the age of 16 – they would have confirmed the vows made for them when they didn’t yet know that they were loved by God.

Wilkes had just preached at Mom’s funeral and – unbeknownst to us – he would also preach at Dad’s funeral less than two years later, even though he was long retired. It was an immeasurably precious gift to us.

Because of that discovery of letters in Mom’s closet, I decided that I, too, would write letters to the children I baptized to be opened on their 10th birthday – believing that 16 was too long to wait.

I wrote baptism letters about who was there and what was promised and I included other details:  if they wore a special family baptismal gown, how I met their parents, if they’d laughed during the sacrament.  I would also tell them that, “now that they were ten and making some decisions for themselves, I hope they would also make faithful choices about who or what they would worship in their lives.”

Heavy thoughts for a ten year old, but I’ve found ten year olds to be wise and thoughtful and ready for some deep conversation.

Several times through the years, I’ve received letters from ten year olds telling me that they opened my letter and giving me an update on what they are doing these days.  “You’ll be happy to know,” wrote one ten year old in 5th grade cursive, “that I have a really good life and my brother is not so bad.”

Wilkes Macaulay was a pastor’s pastor.  Our families have known each other for over 60 years and we have experienced everything from church camp to weddings to funerals to conferences together.  While he was the pastor of the church of my parents’ and grandparents’ and great-grandparents’, my Aunt Jane headhunted him to be her pastor down the road.

Wilkes died yesterday in North Carolina at the age of 91 and he leaves behind a rich legacy of love and generosity.  He was one of my models for ministry.

I look forward to baptizing a baby this coming Easter Sunday – the daughter of two clergy friends who have their whole lives in front of them.  And I’ll be writing a letter about that day for A in hopes she opens it on her tenth birthday.

Thanks be to God for life and death and resurrection and hope – even in dark days.

Image of Wilkes Macaulay (thanks Clay) when he was a young pastor in NC.  Much love to his wife, children, and grandchildren.

Short post today as I head to the Association of Presbyterian Christian Educators Annual Event in Louisville.  [Note:  Some of the most brilliant women I know are members of APCE.]

When Recording Academy President Neil Portnow explained that more women didn’t win Grammy Awards this year because women need to step up.  Apparently he doesn’t know that many of those steps have been blocked for women, and not only in the music industry.  Today’s a good day to point a gifted woman or girl towards the  staircase going up to the next floor.  Or just move the barriers.

Have a good Tuesday.

There’s a great article in the newest issue of The Presbyterian Outlook by Victoria White (which you’ll have to subscribe to here if you want to read it) about the fact that we clergy people will disappoint someone this week.  It’s not something I ever heard about in seminary, but the truth is that:

1. Church Members will – sooner or later – be disappointed by their congregations.
2. Pastors will definitely disappoint their parishioners (and probably their own families.)

Good leaders will both embrace this reality and talk about this reality in the hopes of creating healthy boundaries.

Examples:

• A couple I loved requested a spring wedding date and I happily agreed to officiate, overlooking the fact that our TBC’s birthday was also that weekend. My compromise involved officiating at the wedding but not attending the reception. I disappointed both the couple with whom I was very close and TBC who had hoped to celebrate all weekend with the family.
• A parishoner left multiple voice mails in my church office asking me to get back to her even though my outgoing message stated that I would not be in the office that week, so please contact another staff member with emergencies.  She was furious that I was not returning her calls and she was not willing to talk with anyone else on staff.  What she didn’t know was that I was in court with another parishioner from 8 to 5 brutal hours every day that week and telling her that I was in court with a parishioner was too much information to share and none of her business.  I disappointed her that week and she never let me forget it.
• As one of two Co-Moderators of the PCUSA right now, Denise and I receive multiple invitations for the same dates – often because many of the Mid-Councils meet on the same Tuesdays and Saturdays.  We cannot humanly accept every invitation even though we are told that we will disappoint people if neither or us can attend their anniversary/special event.

Disappointment is part of professional ministry just as it’s a part of any relationship.  As Victoria White notes in the Outlook article:

“The church needs to be in conversation with me about my schedule just as much as my family does.  I have found that many times churches are flabbergasted when they find out how often the minister chooses the church over their family.”

This is a recipe for resentment, my friends.  It’s healthier to talk about what’s needed to nurture strong family and social relationships and what’s needed to nurture strong work relationships.  Balance and boundaries make for a happy ministry together.

And if you hear someone in church grouse about how ____ is never available, I hope you’ll remind that person that even pastors have to prioritize their time.  We cannot possibly be available to everyone. (The pastor/leader is not God.)

Image source is unknown but this sculpture is everywhere in the public realm.

Ministry happens when committees, commissions, boards, and teams work with leaders to get things done, right?

This is how it’s been done for generations but – increasingly – committees are difficult to fill and the differences between those committees and “teams” are merely semantic.  Two conversations yesterday inspired me to notice how community organizing is replacing committee work to carry out effective ministry.

TBC met with former U.S. ambassador to the United Kingdom Matthew Barzun yesterday who inspired her and other graduate students about using their power for good.  (Using our collective power is essential in community organizing.) She left energized to study, work, and encourage others to make a difference too.  She has become an evangelist for life-changing ideas and developing relational power.

The Stated Clerk of my denomination has said that his hope is to shift us from committee-izing our ministry to organizing our ministry.  Nobody joins a congregation or other non-profit in order to attend committee meetings.  But we are inspired when invited to join a movement that makes organic changes that enhance human life.

There will always be a need for meetings to organize ourselves for action.  But the actions we seek are those that offer deep nourishment and substantive changes in the way we live.  What if we saw the mission of our work through that lens?

Instead of holding meetings of committees with a “have to do” agenda, what if we organized ourselves as being part of a movement?