A Church for Starving Artists

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.

As I write this, throngs of people are already home from shopping the after-Christmas sales, having stocked up on wrapping paper and cards for next Christmas.  I too was tempted to hit The Container Store and buy their fun stretchy ribbon at 50% off.

But the original purpose for Boxing Day in the UK and beyond was this:  bosses give gifts (in boxes) to their employees.  The underlings rest while the overlings appreciate them.  How lovely.

Sadly, Boxing Day is now the Black Friday of various Commonwealth nations.  Or here in the US, it’s simply known as another shopping day.

It’s too late for our friends already in line at Target, but – for those of us fortunate enough to have another day off from work on the day after Christmas, let’s take a moment to appreciate people who make our lives easier:  the postal carrier, the police officer, the teacher, the secretary, the public works official.

An authentic “thank you so much for all you do” would be lovely.

Image source.

First of all, as most of us (I pray) already know, neither stockings nor evergreens have anything to do with the Christmas story told in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.

Isaiah never foretold stories of reindeer.  And while brown-skinned St. Nicholas of Myra worked against human trafficking – which would have pleased the Christ who sets all people free – his story has been shaped and reshaped by the likes of Coca Cola and Clement Clarke Moore.  He looked more like this than this.

So, Followers of Jesus,  let’s all confess before God and each other that few of us focus entirely on the Gospel Stories of the Birth of Jesus in this season.  We are all about Saturnalia-esque gift giving and twinkling lights.

And so this Pew Research Study is neither surprising nor disturbing:

“A 2012 Pew Research survey found that roughly three-quarters of Asian-American Buddhists (76%) and Hindus (73%) celebrate Christmas. In addition, our recent survey of U.S. Jews found that about a third (32%) had a Christmas tree in their home last year. And some American Muslims celebrate both the religious and cultural aspects of Christmas”

I have Muslim friends who hang stockings and say “Merry Christmas” alongside the rest of us.  In fact, when I was a parish pastor, we regularly had Muslims join us for the Christmas Eve service.  One told me that he loved to hear the story of  al-Masih.  (He wasn’t crazy, however, about the idea of a woman giving birth to God.)

Tonight, our FBC will be in an NYC cathedral for the candle-lighting Christmas Eve service with his Jewish college roommate and several other Jewish friends who attend every year, one of whom tells FBC, “It’s so beautiful, it almost makes me want to convert.”

And so we share Christmas with non-believers.  It’s what’s in our heart that matters, don’t you think?  It’s living in the way of Jesus, don’t we believe?

When Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me” I believe he wasn’t talking about church membership or the religion with which we self-identify.  I believe he was talking about whether or not we truly live in the Image of Christ.  We figure out what living in Christ’s Image looks like by studying holy texts and praying for discernment.

It’s so much easier to complain about the removal of nativity sets from Guantanamo than it is turn the other cheek or withhold judgment or give sacrificially.  What if we sought to learn something holy from friends of other faiths or no faith?  God uses everything and every one.

May Christ enter our hearts today and throughout the New Year.

These are the days when little children dress as sheep and shepherds in Church Christmas Celebrations. They are cute and inspiring and – for many – they “make” Christmas. In yesterday’s traditional Children’s Pageant with HH’s congregation, one woman said to me on the way out, “We just couldn’t have Christmas without the kids, could we?”

Actually, some of us could and do.

Maybe we would like it to be different, but the truth is that the majority of our congregations in the United States cannot field a full nativity cast from our own rolls of children and youth. According to Research Services in my own denomination, 54% of our churches have 100 members or less. Chances are the majority of those small congregations have a handful of children. Or no children.

I regularly worship among churches with 0-4 children. They are often the grandchildren of longtime members. Occasionally a family with children or youth will visit a congregation for the first time and never return because – while they might find spiritual nourishment for themselves – they long for “something for the kids.”

Frankly, most of our congregations have no idea how to minister to 21st Century families, much less people who have never been part of a church culture. If people have never been part of a church community but now have children and want to expose their kids to Jesus, most of our congregations have no idea what to do with them.

In the words of George Bullard explaining 60-40-20 churches:

“Congregations where 30 percent or more of the active membership is at least 60 years old, and they have been professing Christians for at least 40 years, and they have been connected with this congregation for at least 20 years, are myopic regarding the spiritual needs of non-churched culture persons. When 50 percent or more of the active membership is 60-40-20 people, they are not only myopic, but now blind to the spiritual needs of non-churched culture persons.”

Congregations can be and are vibrant without children as much as families can be and are vibrant without children. What every church (and family) needs to thrive is

• childlike wonder,
• opportunities to learn and
• the freedom to figure out who God created us to be, both individually and as a community.

I love the innocence of children who look wide-eyed at the musicians in worship. I love the effervescence of children who freely express their joy like the little girl who exclaimed, “Yay!” after one of the anthems yesterday.

This is what all who gather in the name of Jesus need. It’s just that children remind us and if they are not present we forget. If we have been at this Christ-follower life for a long time, we might have long forgotten what it’s like to be God’s child.

We liturgical Christians have been lighting special candles each Sunday of Advent for the past three weeks:  The Candle of Joy.  The Candle of Hope.  The Candle of Expectation.  The Candle of Purity.  The Candle of Peace.

They come with many names depending on our traditions.  But I suggest that we shake this up a little.  I would like somebody to light The Candle of Fun.

Advent is supposed to be serious and preparatory – and I’m not talking about the preparation of Christmas dinner.  Within the season comes the year’s longest night and I’m a big fan of commemorating Blue Christmas.

But we need some fun – especially in the church.

I remember a lovely elder  – a retired Army general  – who believed that church was never about fun.  It about duty.  It was about commitment.  It was about sobriety.  It was about reverence.

Yes, the 21st Century Church could use more commitment (that’s another post) but the people of God who try to follow Jesus cannot understate The Power of Fun to make connections, bolster relationships, make people happy, and encourage joy.  That Candle of Joy is a good idea but joy feels nebulous to as many in the ecclesiastical world as well as the secular world.

Let’s have some fun:

• Treat your town to A Nativity Flash Mob.
• Hot Cocoa Love Bomb a Shelter or a Street Corner
• Sing Carols in a Bar (with permission from the bartenders)
• Secret Santa a stranger (pay for the person behind you in the Starbucks Drive-Thru or the interstate tollway; hand a small gift card to the person who sells newspapers on the corner; clandestinely leave homemade cookies for your boss, your barrista, your local sheriff)
• Turn random things into verbs (e.g. “to Secret Santa”, to “Love Bomb.”)

Church world cannot be all fun, of course.  But we can have more of it.

Followers of Jesus are in the Good News business and it’s Good News to bring glad tidings of great joy to people in the form of little treats and unexpected celebrations.  Let’s do it.

There is a fine line between religious experience and mental illness.

If you’ve seen an angel, you are probably not likely to share that story carelessly. But I know people who have seen one or more angels. Some of the angels were floating. One angel was a barefoot tobacco farmer. Such stories have come to me from believers and non-believers alike.

Sophy Burnham is still a popular speaker on the topic among all kinds of church people as well as Spiritual But Not Religious types. She once spoke at a church where I was the pastor and that event still ranks among the best attended class in that congregation’s history. People came From Everywhere. For all I know, maybe there were angels in attendance that day too.

We followers of Jesus know Bible stories about Gabriel and Michael and maybe we can recite verses about guardian angels and reporters at an empty tomb. But some of us are skeptical of those who see angels in the 21st Century – especially when the angel seers are mentally ill.

Thamsanqa Jantjie – the sign language interpreter at Nelson Mandela’s funeral – says that he saw angels descending in the stadium. “Sometimes I will see things that chase me,” he said. Mr. Jantjie is a person with schizophrenia and untrained in the field of sign language interpretation.

So here’s what I believe in this season when angels factor quite a bit into our story: They don’t chase us. They report information (“Behold, I bring you good news of great joy.“) Both mentally ill people and mentally healthy people see them – or at least we think we do. I’m not sure what Mr. Jantjie saw, but it doesn’t sound like angels.

Angels bless us. They help us. They tell us not to be afraid. This is what I still believe even on Friday the 13th.

Image from a stained glass window in All Saints Tudeley Church, Kent, UK.

Note: thank you to SW for helpful corrections.

Years ago, I attended a holiday party where I didn’t know most of the people in attendance.  While standing at the bar, a stranger came up to me and we introduced ourselves:

Me:  Hi, I’m Jan.

Stranger:  Hi, I’m Adolf.  (Names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

Me:  So what do you do?  (Don’t you hate it when we are pegged re: work?)

Adolf:  I’m a venture capitalist.  I find places to put my money.  (Yes, he really said this.)

Me:  What a coincidence.  I am trying to find money for a new venture.  (I had recently been elected to the Board of a new 501c3 at my church.)

Adolf:  What’s the venture?

Me:  We’ve started a computer lab to teach homeless people basic computer skills so they can get employment.  

Adolf:  ?

Me:  While serving dinner recently at a local shelter, we realized that many of the residents are very bright.  They just don’t have the basic skills to run a computerized cash register or work in an office.  We have several corporate donors giving us hardware and software.  We need financial contributions too, though.  Are you interested?

Adolf:  Excuse me.  (He took his glass and a spoon and clinked them together to get the attention of everyone in the room.  And then he said this:)

Adolf:  My new friend here – Jan – has proposed an interesting idea that I’d like to share.

Me:  (in my head:  Oh my gosh, this is great!  He’s going to challenge the room to donate to our new amazing project to teach homeless people computer skills.)

Adolf:  Get this.  She is hoping to raise money to teach computer skills to homeless people.

Me:  !

A brief moment of silence ensued.  And then . . . . laughter.

They laughed at me and then went about their business talking about plastic surgery and winter vacations and such.  After catching my proverbial breath, I realized that I live on a totally different planet from those folks.

I’m not just talking about Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars differences.  I’m talking about Some of Us Live on Planet Earth and Others Live on The Planet of the Apes.  

[Important note:  I feel like a jerk sharing this story because it makes me look like I am full of holiness and selflessness – or it makes me look self-righteous and obnoxious.  Believe me, I am as fake as Adolf.]

For a better example, read this.  Please read every word.

As Christmas comes once again, it’s important to remember that – even as fellow earthlings – we live on different planets.  Some of our children will be inundated with gifts beyond the wildest dreams of a child like Dasani.   A December to Remember ostensibly means this to a few but to most of the world, having family and friends is most memorable.  And then to others – on a different planet from our own experience – having healthy parents and basic clothing and shelter is most memorable.

At that party long ago, I was asked, “Why would you do that?  Why would you want to teach homeless people computer skills?”

We live on different planets.  How can we come together and partner to make the world look like the planet Jesus describes here:

Your kingdom come.
Your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.  (Matthew 6:10)

I (stupidly) said to a colleague a while ago that “I was just the Interim Associate Executive Presbyter.  I don’t really have any power.”  Wrong.

I have enormous power.  I can ruin someone’s life  – by giving an unfair reference or sharing a confidential piece of information or not giving him/her a second chance – but hope to God I never do these things.

You have enormous power too – especially if you are a pastor or if you are a church person of any kind.  You have the power to mess with people’s impressions of Christianity.  You have the power to welcome someone who is unwelcome in conventional culture.  You have the power to introduce a different narrative about what Jesus is about and who God is.

As we prepare to welcome a baby who was God (!) we remember One who was weak and yet breathtakingly powerful beyond all measure.  We remember that – in God’s realm Weak is the new Strong.  We remember that, as God’s children, we have enormous power.

Think Nelson Mandela.  Think Malala Yousafzai.  Think Little Church on the Corner with people who are serious about following Jesus.  Think Transformed People.

Image source.