A Church for Starving Artists

I don’t understand how cool phone apps work, especially the ones that can locate wall studs behind sheet rock and turn off the stove. But I know how cool churches work.

By cool churches, I’m not talking about screens and drums and coffee shops. I’m talking about churches that make a difference in the context in which they live:

– the churches that escort kids from school to the after school program in their building’s basement in a dangerous neighborhood

– the churches that welcome the homeless for breakfast every morning

– the churches that offer free legal clinics for the poor a couple morning’s a week

– the churches that host elder day care for local residents.

Imagine if, for every spiritual, social, physical, and emotional issue there was a church for that. So many of our congregations have lost our purpose and we can’t remember why we exist. Too few of our churches have a clear grasp of what breaks God’s heart in our communities. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

If we are willing, we can be this church- or at least something a little closer to it.

As a young twenty-something single pastor, I was asked to head up the Singles Ministry in the Presbytery because . . . I was single.  Was I interested in Singles Ministry?  Not particularly.  But “being one,” I must know “what they like.”

I honestly count on gay friends to be my go-to people for gay-centric questions.  I ask Muslim friends fundamental questions about Islam as if they all believe the same thing.

Here’s the problem:  expecting individual people to be the voice of their generation, race, orientation, etc. presumes there is actually a single perspective/culture for each.

While enjoying my All Church All The Time Lifestyle, I recently asked twenty-something TBC her perspective on what it would take to shift the church in such a way that Millennials would find meaningful community.  She recoiled at the question.

“I can only speak for myself, really,” she wisely responded.

I have heard and read for years that Millennials, for example, are entitled and uncommitted, but – frankly – the Millennials I know are hardworking and willing to make sacrifices to reach their goals.  It also bugs me when people of a certain generation/gender/orientation/race/religion speak for their own demographic as if they have cornered the market on the characteristics and aspirations of everyone in their cohort, whether they are real or fictional characters.

The answer to connecting with each other seems to be more about authenticity (being who we really happen to be while allowing others to be who they really happen to be) than about creating programs  “that singles will like” or planting a church “that GBLTQ people will like” or  reaching out to “young families” by making assumptions about what “they all want.”

What if we honestly connected with people by asking them about their lives, their stories, their fears?  Before we started programs, before we planted churches, before we redeveloped establish churches, what if we simply connected with people we already know and people we meet in our daily living?  What if we stopped making assumptions about each other based on age, race, religion, etc. and simply connected as individuals?

Fun exercise: read through the Gospels and list all the demographics that Jesus encountered.

If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill’, and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?  (James 2:15-16)

They’re calling Chicago Chiberia and Antarcditka as I write this, with record-breaking temperatures out here:  15 below zero, not counting wind chill yesterday.

What makes me happy and cozy (snow outside, warmth inside) means stress and humiliation for others (no heat + burst water pipes + power outages = moving everyone to a warming center) not to mention what it means for people are not paid on “snow days” when their offices and businesses are closed.

I’m struck by the fact that 100% of the PADS sites*  in my South Suburban Chicago area are church buildings.  This means that Every Night of the Week, houses of worship are open to welcome homeless men, women, and children for meals and a safe, warm place to sleep.  Some of these church buildings have laundry rooms and showers.

This, my friends, is why churches have buildings.  They are tools for ministry.

While many castigate the efficacy of Institutional Church and/or Mainline Denominations, the congregations that offer their space in our area include two Evangelical Lutheran congregations, three Community Churches, two Presbyterian Church (USA) congregations, a Mennonite congregation, an Episcopal congregation, five Roman Catholic congregations, and a United Methodist congregation.   Those who stay overnight are considered and treated as favored guests.

Imagine a world in which everyone who – not only steps foot in a church space but encounters a follower of Jesus (thus creating Church Space)  – experiences “warming.”  Physical bodies are warmed  – but also spirits are warmed, cold hearts experience a little heat, compassion is ignited, a fire is lit under the indifferent.

Imagine the church being a warming center beyond setting up coffee pots and cots.  Sweet.

*PADS = Public Action to Deliver is a shelter program

Image source here.  Interesting story.

As I prepared to preach about the magi yesterday, I found a little bottle of frankincense and myrrh in my robe pocket, left there since Epiphany 2013.  It smells heavenly.

Reza Aslan reminds us that the priests in the Temple slit the throats of animals while sweet-smelling incense smoldered, in hopes of masking the stench.  In the background common men could catch the whiff of  roasting lamb that the priests would enjoy later, on God’s behalf.

I get the sense that God not only likes sweet smells but I imagine that God  – being God – also smells quite good.  The sour smell of death is beyond God.  The stink of rot is beneath God.

One person’s hardwood mulch is another’s Chanel No. 5. What smells wonderful to a carpenter perhaps smells musty to a ballerina.

But there is something holy about certain smells that still have the power to take us someplace lofty and lovely:  angel food cake takes me to Grandmother Ethel’s kitchen, a new can of Play-Doh takes me to our children’s preschool years, sawdust takes me to the NC State Fair.

I believe in a God who smells good.  Like frankincense and myrrh.  Like baby’s skin.  Like freshly cut grass.   But God has entered a world that often stinks.  And our job is to enter that stinky world too:

“For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing.”   2 Corinthians 2:15

Happy Epiphany.

Future Gifts are my new favorite thing:

• Tickets to an event that’s not happening for several months.
• 75% off Christmas items for next year.

I’m telling the story again tomorrow about the silver-plated tray I got for Christmas when I was eight years old from one of my cousins (i.e. his mother my Aunt Frances) when we Edmiston cousins drew names for Christmas. It was the only silver-plated tray I received that year.

My sermon tomorrow is about the magi’s gifts which were future-oriented much like gifting an 8 year old with a silver-plated tray. Of course I would need that tray in the future for parties not yet imagined.

The incubation period for Jesus’ baby gifts was about 33 years. For me, it took less than twenty to use that special tray. And who – in anybody’s wildest dreams in 1964 – ever thought it would be used by the receiver – not only for fancy parties but also for a sermon?

New Year’s resolutions are future-oriented: the resolution to exercise brings future health, the resolution to practice more financial discipline brings the gift of calm if somebody needs an infusion of cash.

Spiritual disciplines work the same way. We learn scripture that might come in handy while lying on a gurney. We remember a sermon that calms us on a dark night.

How great is it that the gifts of the magi can still be touched and smelled. I wish all our gatherings tomorrow included frankincense burning beside a jar of myrrh and a little pile of gold shavings.

Image source (plus bonus image of silver tray from Aunt Frances.)

PS This is my 500th post on WordPress. Still sad about the 1500 posts I lost on Blogger when the cosmos forced me to re-boot my life in 2011. Nevertheless TBTG.

[Note:  I’m not great at keeping resolutions solo, so my hope is that we – as spiritual communities  – might be able to keep them together.  Holding each other accountable is an essential feature of a healthy church.]

Church is not about us.  It’s not about me.  It’s not about you.  Here is a little self-exam for both clergy and non-clergy alike as we try to change attitudes and church culture in 2014:

1. Now that Advent’s over, there’s a team charged with replacing old church Advent and Christmas decorations.  You donated the star that’s been on top of the tree for as long as anyone can remember.  You are:

A) Quietly upset that people would disrespect your generous donation by getting rid of “your star.”  That star came from your grandmother.

B) Telling anyone who will listen The Story of Your Star and how it came from Macy’s in the 1940s.

C) Unconcerned about the star.  (The truth is that you gave it to the church because you didn’t need it but didn’t want to throw it out.)

2.  The Worship Team wants more participation during Sunday worship.  As the “Worship Coordinator” you feel:

A) Threatened that – apparently – they don’t like how you’ve been leading worship.

B) Dread at the thought of having to work with others on worship every week.  It’s so much easier to do it yourself.  Are those volunteers even professionally trained?

C) Thrilled at the thought of equipping others to read scripture, pray prayers, offer liturgical arts, and preach.  The church will be so much better off after you move on in a few years.

3.  You are the (popular) former Pastor, former Choir Director, former Board Chair, former Youth Director. (Take your pick.)  You’ve retired or moved on, and you are no longer part of the church except in an honorary, historical way.  But when the congregation’s 75th anniversary comes up, you assume you will have an essential role in the celebration.  You:

A) Contact current key leaders informing them, quietly, that you will be happy to take a role in the festivities.

B) Call the current person in your previous position and invite yourself to assist him/her.

C) Attend if you are invited and thank everyone for a lovely time.

I confess that I offer this little quiz selfishly – as if it’s all about me – because when church people remember that it’s not about us, it makes my own job a bit easier.  So I’m sorry about that.

But if we truly love our congregations and want them to thrive so that it looks on earth as it is in heaven, we will let go of our personal preferences, tastes, and need for attention.  Let’s resolve to be ecclesiastically healthier in 2014.

I’m a late bloomer so much of what I “discover” is old news to most people.  Still, here are some choice discoveries that have changed my particular life in 2013:

• Brene Brown.  She is one of my pastors.
• John Green.  How a 36 year old man channels the mind of teenagers is a mystery and a blessing.
• There is a flashlight app for the iPhone.  (Like I said, I’m a late bloomer.)  No more walking home in the dark.
• Fear is genetic.  And yet, we are not slaves to our genes.
• The best pastors are emotionally intelligent human beings.  (Again: duh.)  You can be a brilliant theologian, a savvy entrepreneur, and a poetic speaker and writer. But if you are spiritually immature, smug, and/or excessively needy, professional ministry is probably not going to work out for you.
• Many perfectly excellent pastors are broken by toxic churches.  (I actually knew this years ago, but I’m still shocked about it.)
• Netflix series are 1)awesome and 2) best enjoyed via binge-watching.
• (From the brilliant mind of HH)  Wild Goose is an event.  Camping is an event.  It’s hard to enjoy two events at the same time, which is why HH and I choose to stay here during Wild Goose.  Hope to see you there in 2014.
• Brussel sprouts are not as disgusting as once believed.

Feel free to share your own discoveries.  And have a Happy New Year!

Many of us in professional ministry are saddened and disillusioned to discover that – while we thought we were going to be changing the world to the Glory of God – we are actually spending most of our time doing administration and building maintenance in a church building. Especially in smaller churches with little to no staff, the pastor is expected to do what administrative assistants, webmasters, janitors, and handymen/women do in larger churches.

Many pastors leave professional ministry before the fifth anniversary of their ordination. More here. (It’s a an old article, but still true.)

Elizabeth Myer Boulton, in this post, expresses many of the truths about organizational dysfunction and toxicity, in spite what we in the church are supposed to know about the Great Commandment, the Great Commission, and basic human decency. Conflict-management is not taught as consistently as Biblical Exegesis, Church History, and Theology in seminary, but I’m thinking that parish pastors need serious training in this field. Mediating between the choir and choir director, the preschool director and the parents, parents and nursery workers, two camps of members with stubborn differences on budget matters, generations, new members and long-standing members – these are all common conversations I’ve had as both a parish pastor and now a “middle judicatory staff member.”

I’m not sure what’s going on here – when church people (both clergy and parishioners) are unrecognizable as followers of Jesus, but my hunches include these:

• People don’t get that bullying is the antithesis of following Christ.
• People misunderstand whose church it is.
• People with no power in the world wield assumed power in their congregation.
• People have an erroneous understanding about the purpose of a church.
• People have an erroneous understanding about the role of a pastor.
• People gossip and send anonymous notes as if they never left junior high school.

Obviously all our issues involve being people and many of us are a mess.

By the time you read this today, I will once again have taken on the role of “invited denominational official” in hopes of mediating a church conflict. I do this a lot. For a person who grew up being fairly conflict-avoidant, I now appreciate and (sort of) love conflict. I am not afraid any more.

What I know for sure is that living and serving in community is hard. It takes maturity and commitment and honesty. Talking openly is a start. Speaking to each other as beloved children of God is essential.

Seminarians: my hope is that someone is telling you that there will be conflict and bullying and – yes – even darkness in your church. You will need tools to navigate it all and you will make a lot of mistakes. But this is God’s church and we are God’s people and love wins in the end.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. John 1:5

I’ve had many roommates in my life, which – in my case – means that 1) I got to go to college and then have “adventures” after college and then go to grad school, and 2) I married “late.”

Although my grad school was considered “a professional school” (i.e. I learned “a profession”) there was no assumption that – like a freshly licensed orthodontist or new corporate consultant – I would be able to pay back my school loans in a mere year or two.  My first job after seminary involved working at less than minimum wage as a hospital chaplain intern.  My second job – and first church position – paid me enough to qualify for food stamps.

I have had a happy work life and it continues to be quite fulfilling and interesting some 30 years later.  But I was talking with an old roommate years ago as we entered Middle Age about our choices.  We found ourselves in totally different places financially and emotionally:

Roommate #1 had made choices based on money:  making a lot of it and finding life’s satisfaction coming, not through a fulfilling work life, but through having the capacity to buy things and experiences that would make life more fun.

Roommate #2 had made choices based on “calling” and passion and a desire to make the world better (read: occasional Christ Complex) while struggling to pay for some of the lovely extras of life.

On the cusp of 45, Roommate #1 asked Roommate #2 how to make a mid-life career switch in order to find meaning and accomplishment beyond Financial Success.

About the same time, Roommate #2 asked Roommate #1 how to make money in these last years of viable employment in order to be able to retire one day.

Please read this excellent article by Dina Strasser for further reflection.  We live in a world where The Wolf of Wall Street opens on Christmas Day and nobody talks about the extraordinary irony of that.

And as we look ahead to a new year and a fresh start, how we will make decisions, counsel our children to make decisions, stand beside friends making decisions regarding how each of us will spend our lives?

My basic, very simplistic answer to all these quandaries involves God.  But if you knew me, you already knew that.

Image is the Game of Life board game.

This quote is from The Candymakers by Wendy Mass, but Patrick Evans* shared it on his FB status yesterday.

Last night at our local grocery store, I perkily said to the cashier, “I hope you had a great Christmas!” and she responded dully, “Actually it was terrible.  My kids were at their dad’s so I was alone.”

I prefer this response to “It was fine” when things are not fine.  She risked sharing real life with me and most people don’t do this with friends, much less with strangers.  I thanked her and she probably thought I was talking about bagging my pears and cheese.

I’ve been thinking about the battles people fight that we know nothing about.  Some battles are hidden and kept to ourselves. Depression.  Addiction.  Underemployment.  Bitterness.  Loneliness.  Debt.  Demons.  Chronic Pain.  Regret.  Existential Despair.  Honestly everyone is fighting something deep within and it distracts us and impairs our perspective.  We are usually too busy or disengaged to notice.  At least that’s me.

What if we approached each day with the attitude that people basically need to be loved?  What if our default attitude was respect and honor towards strangers?

For the last two and a half years, I have witnessed  – almost daily – uncommon kindness on public transportation in Chicago.  I have watched people pay for bus passes when strangers had no money.  I’ve observed people giving up their seats for others.  I’ve noticed people dropping bills into the milk crates of subway performers.  Who knew that I’d experience the Holy Spirit on the CTA?

The Light of Christ has come but the world is still dark.  What if we paid closer attention and listened better?  What if we looked upon each other with compassion?  Because everyone we meet is fighting a battle we know nothing about.

*Patrick Evans is one of the treasures of my denomination.  The image is from the Chicago Transit Authority.