A Church for Starving Artists

The word “vicious” is not in the Hebrew or Greek Bible as far as I can tell, although surely some translation somewhere calls assorted people or demons or words “vicious.”

Unfortunately the word – VICIOUS – is being used more and more in church circles to describe the actions and attitudes of some of God’s precious children. This is troubling.

Since returning from Sabbatical, I’ve received reports of …

• Bodily threats to pastors.
• Rancorous committee meetings ending with calls to “step outside.”
• Ugly confidential memos casting vulgar aspersions upon church leaders.

About a year ago, I was part of a meeting that became so volatile that a gentleman offered to walk me to my car in case someone tried to assault me. Oh, I left out an adjective. It was a church meeting.

The volatility we see now in politics, including school board meetings and campus protests, has spilled into Church World. It is the opposite of living as followers of Jesus.

There’s no crying in baseball? This is a lie. (Exhibit A: The 2016 World Series when the Cubs won it all. Believe me, some people were weeping)

Okay, gratuitous sports analogy aside, there is crying in Church. There is laughter in Church. There is joy, sorrow, inspiration, ecstasy and doubt in Church. But when there is viciousness in Church, God’s heart is broken. And the world trembles.

My friends, Church is no place for anonymous accusations, verbal explosions, subtle threats, or blackmail. Show me a Church that has untrustworthy elders, narcissistic pastors, or church ladies who will stab you in the back with a pickle fork, and I’ll show you a congregation that doesn’t deserve to call itself The Church of Jesus Christ. And yet, such a congregation might also be the perfect candidate for God to kill off so that resurrection can happen.

Are there vicious people in your congregation? What will it take for us to stand up to their bad behavior? It will take trust that their ways are not the ways of God and that love will win. This is what I believe.

Part of being in my denomination involves being connected to the other congregations in our denomination. We call the regional areas of churches “presbyteries” and all the church within a single presbytery financially support each other, partner in mission together, and share opportunities for governing. Our pastors are not members of their congregations. They are members of The Presbytery.

Sometimes we lose touch with congregations and not always because we ignore them. (Admittedly, sometimes we ignore them.) We have a few congregations with no working phone number, no answering machine when they do have a working phone number (or the voicemail box is full.) No web page. No social media. No way to find out where they are or when worship happens.

[Note: We have quite a few small congregations, often in rural areas who are very connected. They might not have many new visitors but their communities would suffer deeply if their churches were not active serving the hungry, reaching out to the lonely, praying with neighbors. They are very active.]

I’m talking here about congregations missing in action. In a previous post, I shared that I aspire to be The Pastoral Equalizer (think Queen Latifah only in church.) I also enjoy the occasional Undercover Pastor role. Occasionally I have found myself sitting in a church parking lot on a free Sunday morning at – say – 9 am (because we have no idea what time things happen there or if anything is happening at all.) And then I wait.

10:10 am – White van approaches and pulls into the parking lot. Lady with broom emerges from car. She sweeps the sidewalk leading into a side building and then unlocks that door and enters.

10:20 am – Brown sedan pulls into the grass in front of the side building. Older couple steps out. They enter the side building.

10:22 am – Blue sedan parks beside the white van and a middle aged woman emerges and enters side building.

10:25: am – Tall man holding a Bible emerges from small blue truck. He enters the side building.

This is when I make my move.

I also enter the side building and hear talking down the hall. The man with the Bible is standing behind a lectern and the four others are sitting at a table in front of the lectern. I join them at the table and they are very welcoming.

In my head: Do I tell them I’m the General Presbyter?

Sweet lady formerly sweeping the sidewalk: Welcome! Where are you from?

Me: I’m visiting from Charlotte.

We chat about how Bobby is still in the hospital and how Judy doesn’t look so good these days. The pastor shares stories. A collection basket is passed (and thank the Lord I have cash.) We sing In the Garden a capella. And then worship is over.

Woman sitting next to me (blue sedan): You look familiar. Were you in Presbyterian Women?

Me: I’ve been to a few meetings. I’m a Pastor in the Presbytery.

Other woman (white van): Which church?

(Here it comes)

Me: I’m the General Presbyter. So I try to connect with all the churches.

Woman Next to Me: Pastor, she’s from Presbytery. Come meet her.

The Pastor doesn’t seem to hear and he leaves immediately taking the offering basket with him.

So, now what? Here’s a little church without a validated pastor (I checked him out and he was removed from his denomination in Ohio over 10 years ago) and with less than ten members whose lovely brick sanctuary is locked up because they can’t afford to fix the heat or the air conditioning or the roof.

Should they close because they are small and can’t afford to keep things going?

No. They should close because their ministry is 100% about themselves. This is not to say that they are not lovely people. They are simply missing in action. There is no action.

We are called to gather, worship, create community, study, and serve. Sometimes we do little more than gather – which is fine if we are a club. But churches are not clubs. And we are not the United Way either. But we are communities of faith who meet to understand who we are and what our purpose might be. We are connected – or at least we are supposed to be.

If we are not actively seeking proximity to the vulnerable, the lost, the lonely, and the broken in order to love and serve each other in the likeness of Christ, then I believe we are missing the point. I am inclined to let inactive congregations close themselves and then use the proceeds from the sale of their property to give to active churches. What’s your inclination?

HH and I (both preachers) have started bidding farewell to each other on Sunday mornings saying, “Preach like you mean it.” We both remember a Sunday many years ago when we were worshipping together – in the pews – at one of our home churches and the preacher delivered a powerful and courageous message. As we greeted him on the way out of worship, we said something like: “Wow, that was a brave message. Thank you.” And we’ll never forget his response:

“Thanks. The local clergy association asked us to preach on that issue and we agreed to do it. But I don’t really believe it.”

Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.

This article by renowned preacher Tom Long has received some attention this week regarding how perilous preaching has become in our divided culture. Preach Jesus’ words on serving “the least of these” (meaning the hungry, thirsty, naked, imprisoned, sick, lonely) and somebody will call you “woke” and not in a good way. If you read the first thirteen verses of that chapter (Matthew 25) you’ll see that being woke is the point.

As Tom Long wrote:

They didn’t crucify (Jesus) because he preached with cute hand puppets about chicken soup for the soul. They crucified him because his preaching and his presence were a threat to their very political power.

Please read the Tom Long article. Again, it’s here. I have had the same experience as Russell Moore in that people have attacked me (or simply not invited me back to their pulpit) when I’ve preached Jesus’ words about loving our enemies (whether they are Israelis, Palestinians, Democrats, Republicans, etc.) or welcoming the stranger (whether they are Muslim, Hindu, homeless, or just “not from around here.”)

We have closed off opportunities to listen to those with whom we disagree to the point that we have even closed off the words of Jesus.

One of the differences between Christian Nationalists and Christians who are trying to follow Jesus is that I haven’t yet heard or met a single Christian Nationalist who believes that the words of Jesus are applicable for today. Turning the other cheek and making sacrifices for the poor are no longer considered “patriotic” or “strong.”

As Rob Bell has said, “Weak is the new strong” at least in God’s Word.

And so if we happen to listen to a sermon this weekend or anytime soon, consider how that message – assuming it’s based on Scripture – challenges us to think/live/speak/love differently. Chances are that – if we are challenged – we are authentically experiencing God’s Word for us.

Image of Mount Precipice in Israel. I was privileged to be there in July 2023 with some of the best preachers I know. You can read why Jesus’ home church wanted to throw him off a cliff after his first sermon here.

Happy All Saints Day to all who celebrate.

Today, many of us remember the ordinary saints who now rest from their labors. And our congregations are full of many ordinary saints still walking the earth and doing their best. Or so we pray.

So what happens when the saints of God disagree about what a saintly life looks like? The answer to this question is the substance that fills my day. Consider this parable:

A medium-sized church of upstanding members meets in a church building on a landscaped street with lots of foot traffic in a popular suburb. Every Sunday morning, their ushers unlock and fling open the front doors. And – as they’ve been trained – they look for unsavory characters who might be loitering on their property. On many Sunday mornings, a homeless man can be found sleeping under the boxwoods by the sidewalk. The ushers quietly shoo him away so that there will be no uncomfortable encounters between worshippers and this disheveled neighbor.

The church calls a new pastor who is excited to be serving them. New Pastor loves them immediately and yet the pastoral honeymoon is short-lived when he observes one Sunday morning, that two ushers are shooing away a homeless man who’s had been sleeping under the boxwoods by the sidewalk. New Pastor is mortified and he reacts immediately: “What are you doing? Instead of sending him away, why aren’t you inviting this man inside, offering him a cup of coffee and the men’s room, and inviting him into worship or to sit in the parlor and relax?”

The ushers – many of whom have been ushering for generations – are shocked at the attitude of New Pastor. He is asking us to bring a dangerous person into the safety of our sanctuary. This man could be on drugs. He could be mentally ill. He definitely smells bad.

Some of the saints side with the Pastor who believes the Bible tells us to offer lavish hospitality in the name of Jesus. Think Good Samaritan.

And some of the saints side with the ushers who believe the Bible tells us to protect the vulnerable which would include the older members and children. Think “let the little children come to me.”

Misinformation and demonization ensue. Anonymous letters are sent accusing the New Pastor of creating chaos. The Pastor is overheard accusing the ushers of being Pharisees. The denomination is called in to mediate. The Pastor wonders is he should quit. Some of the members want him to quit.

And so it goes. In a world that craves community and meaning, we have saints who disagree to the point of damaging community and looking less like Jesus every day.

Instead, what if differing saints listened to each other’s perspectives? What if we saw each other as siblings rather than rivals. What if we cared less about being “right” and more about being Christlike?

I share this in the hope that saints on different pages would read it and have compassion for each other.

The Dancing Saints image from the gorgeous domed ceiling of St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco. Among the saints encircling their rotunda are John Coltrane, Queen Elizabeth I, and Anne Frank.

I understand.

A steady diet of trauma can wreak havoc on our vagus nerves – even when we are not living it ourselves. Whether our hearts break hardest for innocents slaughtered during a music festival or babies in hospitals with no fuel or exhausted Ukrainians trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy or frantic citizens afraid to leave their homes in Lewiston – we are globally drenched in trauma.

Someone I love told me recently that he had the best summer ever because he restricted 100% of his news intake from June through August. He’s never been happier, he tells me. Again, I get that. Summer vacation from the worries of the world. Nice.

And yet . . . two thoughts:

1. It’s an enormous privilege to be able to block out the sounds and sights of global pain. There are no missiles being launched into my home. There are no young adults screaming for their lives in the brewery down the street. I hear no gunshots as I walk the dog. I hear no mothers wailing in the next apartment. I can block it all out and go about my merry way. But when I do that, I am also blocking out the needs of people Jesus called my neighbors. I’m ignoring the people God loves. May those of us who live in tranquility never experience what it’s like to be forgotten by the rest of the world. I believe it’s against all Jesus died for to remove all proximity from the pain of our neighbors.
2. And also we need to take care of our souls. In the words of Nelba Marquez-Green:

“Nourish your body. Drink water. Move your body as you are able. Get your mammogram. Go to the dentist. Get your check up at the clinic. Get off socials a bit.”

The trees are gorgeous this time of year in many parts of the world. Stare at trees. Breathe deeply. Plant something and nurture it. Play with a dog. Look at baby photos. Check out their little fists.

I believe God calls us to heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out demons and freely give. It’s literally painful when we witness day after day people rising to power – often with the name of Jesus on their lips – calling on us to arrest the sick, destroy the lepers, turn our backs on the dead, succumb to demons, cling to our possessions as if there’s not enough to go around.

Also – because I am guilty of posturing too – if we are okay letting ordinary citizens buy and carry around weapons of war, why not just give everybody a rocket launcher? Because that would be insane.

One of the reasons I am still in Church is because community heals us. It’s hard, but it heals us. At this very moment there are millions of people doing the difficult and beautiful things that create community.

Take a break from the news if you really need to do that. But come back. Because the poor, the sick, the traumatized, and the desperately lonely – we need each other.

And God Almighty, please be with Evan Gershkovich on his 32nd birthday in a Russian prison today. Freedom for the captives.

This is a question we rarely ask ourselves. But – to be honest – I’m asked on a regular basis: “How do we help our Pastor be a more effective leader?” (Note: other church leaders – elders, deacons, educators -could stand to ask that question of their own leadership too.)

Maybe our favorite Pastor is a wonderful human being, a friend to all, a faithful pastoral caregiver. But what if the congregation isn’t advancing toward becoming more like the Reign of God? What if the congregation is making zero difference in the community? What if nobody is growing spiritually?

What if the elders, deacons, and educators are leaving their roles with the same level of spiritual maturity (or immaturity) that they started with?

We are not place holders filling positions for the sake of filling positions. We were not elected because we have a pulse (at least I hope that’s not why we are serving.)

Maybe it’s never occurred to us that – for leaders – learning to lead is a lifelong endeavor.

Check out the books on Peter Steinke’s bookshelf (above.) And here are some of my own thoughts. Effective leaders . . .

• Know who they are. They don’t chase every great idea or every shiny object because they know what they stand for and who/what they worship.
• Are clear on the organization’s mission. If the mission is “to be a light in the city” then we aren’t distracted by opportunities that shift our focus from the city. If the mission is “to transform the world for good in the name of Jesus Christ” then we won’t be bogged down by conversations about whether or not to build a fountain in the courtyard. If the mission is “to address what break’s Jesus heart in our neighborhood” then clearly we need to focus on what’s going on in our neighborhood and spend minimal time on sanctuary paint colors.
• Address conflict quickly and with love. If we know who we are and we are clear on the mission, then it’s fairly easy to stand up to factions working against that mission.
• Are open to learning. In any given organization there are so many people who know things that the leader doesn’t know. I’m a big fan of being mentored by younger team members, new team members, even cranky team members.
• Are willing to changing their minds. We could definitely be wrong. Show us.
• Know it’s never about the leader. Our nation is a hot mess on Capitol Hill these days because leaders have chosen political parties over country. Imagine being a leader that is less interested in posturing/making a name for themselves than in achieving the mission.

My hope in the Church is that our mission is some version of Making the World More On Earth As It Is In Heaven. We have a lot of work to do. Let’s focus.

Image source.

I wonder if there are statistics on which profession is most likely to receive anonymous letters. Show me a Pastor who’s never received an anonymous letter and I’ll show you a Pastor who either 1) serves a congregation/institution that wholly consists of the most spiritually mature people in the world or 2) that Pastor never says/does anything that challenges the parish culture.

Yes, politicians of every stripe regular receive anonymous threats. And some pastors have received such threats:

• “I wouldn’t be alone in the church building if I were you.“
• “I’m going to spend the rest of my life ruining your reputation.”

Those are my personal favorites.

But there have been many anonymous letters through the years. No threats exactly, but anonymous complaints about me. Anonymous complaints about one of the Pastors in our Presbytery. Anonymous comments about everything from last week’s bulletin cover to an action of the denomination. Obviously I’d rather sit down and talk with frustrated/angry people face to face.

Some say we should simply ignore anonymous communications. Toss them. Delete them.

I’m a fan of reading them out loud in public to the congregation if they occurred in a church context.

Let’s get both the frustrations and the spiritual immaturity out in the open. I call it spiritual immaturity because anonymous correspondence is the tool of bullies and cowards and the spiritually weak. There are some ostensibly upstanding church leaders who succumb to anonymous protests. It’s not irredeemable, but it’s heartbreaking.

I know a pastor who was receiving regular anonymous notes with those weird cut-out letters from magazines like on a bad horror movie. One day, the pastor’s spouse cracked up laughing when she read the latest anonymous note, because the magazine’s address label had not been removed. It was clear who sent the letter and it was from a church officer. The pastor invited the church officer into his study that week, and shared that he had been receiving anonymous letters and – shockingly – the anonymous sender had somehow used a magazine with the officer’s address label.

Pastor: “I’m so sorry that someone has tampered with your mail and used your magazine to send this divisive mail.” The Pastor asked the officer to join him in prayer for the anonymous writer/magazine thief, praying that the sender’s heart would be changed. The officer didn’t show up for worship for several weeks after that. But when he did return, he shared with the Pastor that he was in touch with the anonymous sender and that guy would not be back. The officer then proceeded to be one of the congregation’s most faithful leaders.

If you happen to be reading this and you think sending anonymous letters is the way to address conflicts/remove a Pastor/express displeasure, please know that sending anonymous letters is the action of a spiritually weak and immature person. You can do better.

If you receive an anonymous letter, please pray for the sender. What you have there is a person who needs our compassion. They have lost perspective. They would rather cause enmity than find answers. They might one day be a reason why a congregation has had to close because – assuming the Pastor leaves, the church cannot find another healthy Pastor willing to serve them.

For what it’s worth, I received another anonymous letter this week. The author took the time to put a stamp on the typed letter and then place it through the mail slot at the Presbytery Office. No postmark. Dude – I toss those.

Imagine that you are home after a meeting where one person yelled “shut up” to another person and it was revealed that threatening notes are being left anonymously for a person on the paid staff and someone in the meeting left early in tears. Do I dare add that it was a church meeting?

We get used to certain behaviors if they are allowed to continue long enough. If those behaviors continue for years and no one is ever held accountable, they become norms. And after they’ve become norms, it’s interesting to notice what happens when a new person enters the system and the new person says something like, “What the heck is going on here?” “This is not how Christians act.”

Chances are that we attack the new person.

On any given day, I meet with church people who wonder why “nobody” wants to join their church/serve as an officer/volunteer for a project when I wonder why anybody would when I witness the behaviors church people don’t notice any more: bullying behavior, lack of grace, inauthentic hospitality, a lack of curiosity about people who don’t look or speak as we do.

One of my favorite congregations around here shared with me that they hadn’t had a visitor who wasn’t related to a church member for over 30 years. As a rural church, they simply don’t get visitors. No one is moving into their part of the county. It’s not surprising that any new pastor coming into that community would need to navigate ever so gently how to share that some of their long-time behaviors might make baby Jesus weep.

Note to congregations who do have a steady stream (or at least a trickle) of new people coming into your church as visitors or new neighbors: do a self assessment imagining yourselves as “new.”

• Do we tell families with children that “the childcare is down that hall” or do we walk them to the childcare and help them with their coats?
• Do ushers greet people in the parking lot with big umbrellas on rainy days to help people get inside?
• Do we offer coffee to the woman living in her car in the church parking lot and invite her to come in if she’d like? And then do we offer to sit with her? And maybe invite her to lunch?

And I’m not even talking about how our budget priorities, staffing priorities or mission priorities expand (or ignore) our call to work towards the Reign of God.

We are not fine as The Church of Jesus Christ if we have forgotten that the person we deeply dislike or the leader we criticize behind their back or the stranger we ignore are children of God worthy of respect and compassion. We are not fine if our congregation refuses to stand up to bad behavior. We are not fine if no one stands up to bullies.

If you’ve ever been part of a church that exemplifies the love of Jesus well, you know how life-giving it is. It’s the kind of community that supports us in times of trouble and forgives us in times of failure. They don’t just bring us casseroles (or Grub Hub cards in 2023) but they actually do pray for and with us.

I’m fine – very fine – when I know that Church is being Church as God intends us to be.

Image from the blog of Kenny G with permission. Source.

Our children tell us that the best gift we can give them is a clutter-free inheritance. We are working on it.

HH and I live in an apartment after living in three houses for the first 33 years of our married life. We have downsized but we also had a storage unit until last week and so we having been tossing things once again. I have parted with my deviled egg plate and about ten tablecloths.

My least favorite boxes to cut open are marked “papers to go through.” Help me Jesus.

While some of the papers are easily tossed into the recycling, some are treasures – at least for one last memory before letting them go:

• A 1989 W-2 form reminding me that I once shared a single $22,000 salary with my co-pastor. We had an infant and were living in one of the most expensive cities in the country. (And now I know why random parishioners left groceries on our front porch.)
• A lovely note from a parishioner in the box of an engraved sterling silver napkin ring given to our newborn that said, “For when you grow up and use a napkin.”
• An encouraging letter from the youth pastor to our then-high school daughter during exam week.

A retired clergywoman once decorated her church study with photographs of each of the babies and young children she had ever baptized during the course of her ministry. I wonder now what she did with all those framed photos. How do you toss photos of babies, even babies whose names you don’t remember?

I learned today that the local Habitat for Humanity ReStore will take all the theology, history, and exegetical books we no longer need, so if you live in the Charlotte area and long to read Phyllis Trible, Phyllis Tickle or Phyllis Bird, there will be some great deals in the local ReStore soon. Slowly, slowly we are clearing out our theological library so that our children won’t have to do it.

Friends, the lessons I’m learning are informative for the local church too.

What does your church need to toss? Do we really need a copy of every worship bulletin since the fire of 1934? Is it okay to give away the self-portrait of the third pastor’s second wife that’s been hanging in the church library for 25 years? And is it time to stop doing the Fall Fun Fair since everybody hates doing it except the couple who’s run it since they joined in 1985?

What are the practices that feed souls? The pastor’s personal letters for baptized babies to open on their 10th birthday. The Christmas Eve Candlelighting Service. The saved written testimonies of long-passed church members about how their faith carried them through the Battle of Iwo Jima or the liberation of Dachau. The oral testimonies by younger members about surviving the loss of a child or enduring the end of a marriage or recovering after a near-fatal illness. We need to keep these.

Dr. Yolanda Pierce says that the difference between trash and treasure is that treasure carries a story. And stories give our lives meaning. If we look at our church calendars and schedules and storage closets, which things give meaning and which simply weigh us down?

There is a lot to be said for traveling lightly through this world, keeping the treasures and relinquishing all the rest.

Some vocations require the sharing of bad news. Consider what it’s like to be . . .

• An oncologist
• An admissions director
• A mold remediation specialist
• A pastor

Wait? A Pastor? Sorry, but yes. If we take seriously matters of calling and gifts, we sometimes have to share news that’s hard to hear.

Among the hard news I’ve had to share in my ministry:

• “I’m sorry but we have to let you go because we can’t afford your position.”
• “I’m sorry but we have to let you go because it’s not a good fit.”
• “I’m sorry but we have to let you go because the charges against you are serious.”
• “We need you to step away from the Diaconate.”
• “We need you to step away from the Board of Elders.”
• “We need you to step away from this pastoral call.”
• “You don’t seem to like children so maybe being a Sunday School teacher is not a good match for your strengths.”
• “If you wear a Spiderman outfit to your interview, it probably won’t go well.” (The details on this one are changed for the sake of confidentiality.)

I am a Gabriel wannabe in that I LOVE to share good news. But the truth is that my role – especially now – is to share not-so-happy-news on a regular basis. At least in the beginning it doesn’t feel good to the hearer, but I pray for the right words that convey the truth in love.

Sometimes I get to share the hard news because the Personnel Chairperson or the Pastor just can’t do it. But here’s the thing: the ability to have difficult conversations is the mark of a healthy relationship.

I once had to fire a staff member who was also a friend and I remember begging God to give me the right words. I started by saying, “I need to tell you something very difficult.” To be perfectly honest, it didn’t help her to hear the hard part (“We need to let you go . . . “) but it helped me start the conversation.

I have found that if we share hard news as early as possible (do not withhold hard news hoping it will go away) and we share it with compassion and clarity, it helps everyone move forward. Maybe the hard news is not “personal” but it feels personal. And it will feel both personal and humiliating if it’s heard via the grapevine and not from a supervisor/spiritual leader/friend.

Basically sharing hard news is easiest if there is trust between the sharer and the receiver. I’ve heard seminarians say, “How dare you tell me I’m not called to professional ministry when I know God has called me.” Truly we could be way off in walking alongside someone preparing for ministry. But when they cannot pass ordination exams and their psych assessment indicates complex issues and their professors express concerns and their supervised ministry mentor is worried, then it’s time to talk. If we have a trusting relationship, then sharing hard things is easier. It still hurts, but at least we know we are loved.

A note to all pastors and all church leaders: there are times when you will have to share hard things for the sake of the Gospel. This is why it’s essential to let people know we love them no matter what.