Our faith communities are embracing huge paradigm shifts today — or they are dying.  One of the most basic shifts is being the church versus going to church.  And there is one singular alteration that surpasses all others.

Never again do I want to hear that “our church is opening a preschool/offering a computer class/calling a young pastor in hopes of attracting new people who will join our church.”  That’s not ministry.  That’s a transaction.  (The church gives A and in return the church receives B.)

My denominational leaders are meeting in St. Louis today for a week of business and reunions at the 223rd General Assembly.  We Presbyterians have been doing this for over 200 years:  meeting, worshiping, arguing, praying, making decisions.  We’ve split and reunited and split again.  We grapple with what God is calling us to be and do right now for such a time as this.  And sometimes we make mistakes.  And when we do the right thing, it’s by God’s grace.

But here’s the thing:  true ministry is not transactional.  We don’t follow Jesus to get into heaven.  (What kind of devotion to God is that if we are only doing it to get something out of it ourselves?)  We are not called to minister only to “our own.”  Jesus was not crucified for being cuddly.  [Note:  when our current day political leaders declare that obeying government laws is Biblical, they are overlooking that Jesus was executed for sedition. He broke Roman law – the law of the land.  Following the law is complicated in Holy Scripture.  Note Shiprah and Puah.]

We are called to reach out to the hungry, the homeless, the hopeless, and the broken even when – especially when – we will never personally benefit from that ministry.  We serve because we love in the name of Jesus, not because there is a heavenly or ecclesiastical benefit to us.

And so I leave today for St. Louis and look forward to the wrestling, the debating, the preaching, the singing, and the connecting with old and new friends.  I also look forward to noticing what the Spirit of God will do.  One of my hopes is that all of us who gather will embrace the changes around us that point us to being a more faithful Church.

Image of The Blessed Virgin Mary but I’m fairly certain that she didn’t look anything like this.

Sometimes I sound political  because I am.  And I pray that my politics reflect what I say I believe about who God is and who we are as children of God.

A friend who has worked in border ministry along the Mexican border in Texas reminded me yesterday that little girls are often put on birth control for the trek across the border because it’s assumed that they will be sexually assaulted along the way.  Clearly people do not cross the border into Texas because they simply want a better job.  They are risking everything to find safety and freedom.

This story reminds me that the United States of America has become cruel.  We have always been cruel in many ways just as we have been noble in many ways.  Because I love our country, I want us to be better.

It’s true that our nation cannot accommodate every person who wishes to come to America.  But we have a duty to welcome those in danger because they are human beings.  This is the bottom line that trumps (sorry) all other things:  the men, women, and children we see at the border are human beings who have a God-given dignity we are called to respect.  This is a complicated issue, but it can be addressed in ways that do not strip us of our own humanity as Americans.

The President’s administration is doing this in our names.  Especially if you voted for him, this is the time to speak up.  I trust that those who did not vote for him are already speaking up.

Image is a file photo from June 18, 2014 when President Obama was in office.  It was wrong then and it’s wrong now as “The Trump administration is looking to build tent cities at military posts around Texas” according to McClatchy.

I love this article by Daniel Pink.  It has everything to do with Church today – or more authentically – with 21st Century spiritual lives.

Dan Pink notes that – in his family – there are certain television programs that warrant carving out space to watch in real time:  the finale of The Americans, for example, and Better Call Saul.  There are other shows he likes but he watches them on his phone.  Or waiting for the dishwasher cycle to end.

The last television show that our family Stopped Everything For was Lost.  We ate island food every Wednesday night and even after FBC went to college, we had a family conference call to discuss the deeper meaning of Desmond’s visions or Charlie’s good-bye.  (Not Penny’s Boat!)  The finale fell on OBC’s birthday and we had an island cake with a crashed jet that caught on fire with the candles.  It was epic even if the finale was a disappointment.

So – connecting all this to our spiritual lives:

• There are many people for whom Church is an interstitial activity.  It fills that space between one’s everyday, workaday world filled with chores and deadlines with a holier world of sermons and hymns and pews.  It’s what we do on Sundays.  And we will do it until we die – but maybe – if we are honest, we don’t want to think making disciples of all nations.  We just really hope we are going to heaven after all this.
• There are many more people for whom Church is invisible. If I ask a random person on Main Street where the Methodist Church is or where I can find a Lutheran Church, most people in Hometown, America will not have any idea.  My local NPR station aired this program yesterday about the changing landscape of religion in North Carolina (my new home and a longtime notch on the Bible Belt.)  More than half of all Baby Boomers are unaffiliated in the U.S. now.  And this is even more true for Gen X-ers.  And even more true for Millennials.  And even more true of Generation Z.  And yet, the majority of these generations believe in God/a Higher Power.  Traditional church doesn’t do it for more than half of America these days.  [Note to my people:  so what are we going to do about it?]
• There are many of us who are very intentional about our spiritual lives.  It’s appointment-worthy.  It’s holy.  It’s meaningful.  It connects them to each other and to something bigger.  They don’t want to miss it – with “it” being anything from a weekly worship time to a Bible study to Monday night community dinners to – even – a church meeting to talk about how we might help our neighbors.  We feel empty without it.

Dan Pink writes:

What’s more valuable is getting me to intend—to plan, to identify a block of time, and to summon a spouse or a friend. And that, in turn, changes the way creators ought to think about their creations. 

I hope we who lead spiritual communities/churches/temples are noting this.

Image source unknown.

Yesterday my random encounters included a woman wearing a super cute easy-breezy dress and when I complimented her on it she said, “QVC. Denim and Company.”  I looked up this unknown (to me) supplier of cute dresses only to see that I could buy the dress she was wearing on installments.  The dress cost $36.00 but I could buy it in three payments of $13 each over the course of three months.

Please read that paragraph again if you ordinarily buy your clothes at places where a $36 dress is already a deal.  If you buy your stuff in fancy mall stores or online from fancy mall stores, note that there are people who need to break up a $36 purchase into three installments.

Also yesterday, I read a New Yorker story about “Koks, the World’s Most Remote Foodie Destination” which happens to be in the Faroe Islands.  I have friends who have vacationed in the Faroe Islands.  Maybe they’ve been to Koks.  Maybe they’ve delighted in fermented lamb or “raw mahogany clam on the half shell over kale puree.”  Koks serves only 24 people nightly at $220 per person.  Wine is extra.

The world of my friends who shop at QVC and pay in installments is nothing like the world of my friends who vacation on islands settled by the Vikings north of Scotland.  Their lives could not be more different.

To all my NPR-listening progressive friends:  there are people in our midst who have no idea who Susan Stamberg is – much less Sylvia Poggioli.  There are people who have never seen an ocean or a Great Lake or kale puree.  There are many people who juggle their bills in ways that others of us don’t:  food or medicine?  Mom’s medicine or the kid’s medicine?  A bus pass to get to work or a pizza this Friday night?

It’s no surprise that our nation and our culture are so extremely divided.  And it’s not only a political separation.  It’s a life separation.  Most of you reading this blog post do not have to choose between a pizza and a bus pass.  We can juggle more choices.  We have access to more safety nets.  We have dramatically fewer crises that might render us homeless.

I write this as a Have.  I have more than I will ever need.  My upcoming family reunion dinner would be a once in a lifetime feast for most of the planet.  And I confess before you and the Almighty that I still want more.  I’d love to travel to London to see TBC.  We “need” to update our kitchen.

How might we who have much connect with others who have much less in ways that are not patronizing and toxic?

Is your church, your school, your place of business where both the Haves and the Have-Nots co-mingle?  If not, perhaps we need to figure out how to do this for the sake of the gospel that we Christians claim to believe.  I for one could learn quite a bit about life from my new friend with the $36 dress whether she bought it in installments or not.

Image from Escapism Magazine of a waterfall on the Faroe Islands.

I’m not sure but I might have read every article written about Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade after their deaths last week.  I am struck by the common threads of depression – that dark tunnel of paralysis and the voices in our heads when the tunnel is darkest:

You are incompetent.  You are disgusting.  You cannot be trusted.  You don’t belong here.  You need to go away.  You are the problem.  You disappoint me.

Like Kate Bowler’s helpful appendices at the end of Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved we need tips on what to do when you love someone with depression and what not to do when you love someone with depression.  Here’s a starter list:

Dos:

• Do ask if the person is having suicidal thoughts.
• Do stick around and be present.
• Do tell them they are important to you.
• Do say that you are sorry they are in so much pain.

Don’ts:

• Don’t tell someone to “cheer up” or “think positive.”  This is not about “happiness.”
• Don’t “at least” someone as in “at least you are married” or “at least you’ don’t have cancer.“
• Don’t tell someone that depression is a sin (for the love of God.)
• Don’t suggest vitamins, hot tea, or a trip to Vegas.

I wrote about the voices in our heads in 2017 here.  Those voices continue to whisper in our ears, but there is another Voice that can override them.  A person can recover from depression and – whether you believe in God or not – I believe God has something to do with this.

Image of Anthony Bourdain in Brazil.

I spend a lot of time teaching adults about cultural shifts.  We cannot be an effective Church without being culturally proficient, so when longtime church people try to “bring in young families” or wonder “why people don’t come to church anymore”  I realize we have a lot more work to do.

Sometimes I show slides of a 1950s first grade classroom and a 2018 first grade classroom and ask people to point out the differences.  Even during the course of the past few months, our children’s classrooms are making dramatic shifts.  Did we ever dream that this rhyme would be displayed in a child’s classroom:

Lockdown, Lockdown, Lock the door.

Shut the lights off.  Say no more.

Go behind the desk and hide.  Wait until it’s safe inside.

Lockdown, Lockdown.  It’s all done.

Now it’s time to have some fun!

There really is an exclamation point at the end of the poem. And it hangs on the wall of a kindergarten classroom in the United States of America.

I don’t really have anything else to say about this except that we are called to be The Church for the people who go to kindergarten in this school and for their parents and for the human beings with mental illness who prompt new security measures.  How are we doing?

Image from the Twitter feed of Georgie Cohen of Somerville, MA.  This will be her child’s classroom when she begins kindergarten this fall.

I never understood the point of Connect the Dots puzzles as a child.  They seemed obvious and pointless, and yet . . .

it occurs to me now that professional ministry is all about Connecting the Dots with people.  It prevents us from silo-ing our particular  ministries.  It connects individual service to the big picture.  The dots that need to be connected in your church might be:

• A computer training ministry for new immigrants
• English as a Second Language classes
• Vacation Bible School
• Preschool
• An annual fish fry
• Wednesday morning Bible study
• Bag lunches for homeless shelter
• Cancer survivors group

We all tend to have our pet projects and interests.  But all of the dots are connected when a leader can point out how the dots connect to create the whole picture/the vision:

• Becoming a safe place in the neighborhood where God’s love is shared.
• Transforming the world for good in Jesus’ name.
• Serving our neighbors in the image of Christ.
• [Your congregation’s stated mission here.]

Some of our congregations busily fill our calendars with activities that have nothing to do with the core mission of our church but we’ve been doing those programs for so long that we can’t let them go.  It’s the pastors’ job to continue to help people connect the dots.  And if the dots cannot possibly connect  maybe it’s time to stop.  I’m talking to you, Strawberry Festival (that everybody dreads except the three ladies who run it.)

How do the assorted “dots” of  our efforts connect with the bigger picture?  It’s a question we need to ask and ask again.

I get it. 

Kate Spade is known for creating her namesake company which sold cute pocket books in black and white and candy colors.  She’s known for her relationships.  David Spade and Rachel Brosnahan are her brother-in-law and niece, respectively.  She was somebody’s mom and wife.  Yesterday she died by suicide in her Park Avenue apartment.

I get it, because it could be any of us – or maybe it could just be some of us, but yesterday, it was one of us:  a person who seemed to have so much to live for.  She was successful – at least in worldly terms.  In 2017 Fast Company identified her as one of the Most Creative People in Business.  Successful is one thing.  “Most Creative” is especially interesting.

Her name was used interchangeably with her hand bags and when she sold her company, she started using the name Kate Valentine.  I wonder if this was because she wasn’t allowed to use her own name anymore for contractual reasons.  (See Walter Taylor, formerly of Taylor Wines.)  Giving up your name for an inanimate object feels spiritually disturbing.

Kate Spade was gifted in design and business.  That was her particular calling – among other things.

The calling of all human beings involves recognizing that each person is a child of God and each child of God is more than what we make/do/have.  When we are shattered and feel like we want to die, we need a circle of people.  I call that Church.

Kate Spade was more than a cute purse or a Park Avenue apartment.  I hope that – in God’s light – she knows that today.

Image source. It’s okay not to be okay.  You can call 1-800-273-8255 24 hours/day if you don’t feel okay.

Yesterday was a back to back meeting day.

It started with an unexpected meeting and was followed by a scheduled meeting which was followed by a canceled meeting that turned into an unscheduled (but delightful) lunch with folks from meeting #2.  I was late to the next meeting because the lunch meeting was so interesting.  And that late meeting was followed by another coffee meeting where one of my NC cousins was also getting coffee (#BigNCFamily).

And then – on the way home – I thought I’d stop by the church building of a congregation planning to merge with another congregation because I had not been there yet.  One of the church matriarchs was there and she gave me a tour.  But then she did something random:  she invited me to dinner with some of her friends.

This kind of thing doesn’t happen in my life very often.  Actually it never happens.

• Strangers don’t usually invite me to dinner.
• I often am on my way to the next thing and have someplace to go.

I ate dinner with Shirley, Doris, and Bob at the local Showmars.  The other Bob would have joined us but he’s in Atlanta, I was told.  They described themselves as misfits, laughing and sharing stories from different chapters of their lives.  They talked about where they’d lived, assorted spouses, travels to interesting places. Doris has “been everything” but Presbyterian.  Bob sings in his church choir but he says he’s deaf. They invited me to join them any morning at 7:30 for breakfast – same place, same booth.

When I thanked them for including me, Doris said, “Shirley is the kind of person who never lets you go.”

Imagine a spiritual community where people invite strangers to a meal.  Imagine a spiritual community where friends are unafraid to share their failings as well as their victories without fear of judgment. Imagine a spiritual community where people never let you go.  This, my friends, is Church.

Image of me and my new friends at their usual booth in Showmar’s, Charlotte, NC.

You know those love languages made famous by Gary Chapman?  (My love language is “acts of service.” Please vacuum my floors.)

Just as I appreciate acts of service and you might appreciate acts of public affection or gifts, the way we express our love to God varies as well.   While one person might express her devotion by dressing in her finest clothing and worshiping every Sunday morning, another person might express his devotion by participating in a Moral Monday march.  Both are expressions of love for something bigger than ourselves.

How do you show your love to God?

• You write checks to financially support your church?
• You donate money to support other non-profit organizations?
• You wear your best for Sunday worship?
• You make time for worship on your way to a sports event (and dressing accordingly)?
• You march to protest injustice?
• You risk arrest for civil disobedience to protest injustice?
• You spend quiet time in prayer and Bible study?
• You do hands-on ministry (e.g. painting, refurbishing, tutoring, cooking, serving, cleaning, teaching, singing, visiting, installing, weeding, driving, baking) for people who appreciate such things.
• You study the Bible?
• You write notes to or visit the sick/lonely/grieving.?

Again, we tend to judge each other.  I’ve said myself that if the full extent of your spiritual practice is wearing a coat and tie on Sunday mornings, your commitment is lame.  I also know people who Twitter for Jesus – spreading what they consider to be teaching moments via social media – and that’s fairly lame for other folks.

My point is this:  churches must offer a variety of ways for people to show their devotion to God while also helping people ratchet up that commitment.  Maybe today you express your commitment to serve God by writing a monthly check.  But – as you read and study and pray – you are being moved to raise the stakes a bit and pick up a hammer or a paint brush.  Or maybe you’ve marched in numerous protests and you feel a tug to do more:  teach or mentor or register voters.

What is your Theological Love Language – in terms of how you love God?  I hope it goes beyond wearing a Jesus t-shirt.  (I’m pretty judge-y myself.)  But that’s a start for some people.

Image source.