A Church for Starving Artists

I am a judgmental person, especially about church.  A former parishioner once told me that she had a hard time sitting through worship without judging the experience:  “The choir was off.  The sermon was boring.  The children’s story was about the adults not the kids.”  

It was actually comforting to hear this.  I also find myself distracted sometimes.

I want to worship God when I gather together with a congregation on Sundays.  I want it to be real.  I want to make a connection with God and other people.  But certain things distract me and the worship experience then morphs into something less than holy.

I confess before you and God that my snarky judgement rears its ugly head when:

• Someone – anyone – refers to God as “The Man Upstairs.”
• Nobody smiles.
• The pastor reads the sermon.
• Everybody’s white, although the neighborhood is not.
• There is an assortment of “sermon illustrations” (baseball, Mt. Everest, a guy with one leg, a story heard on NPR)  but nothing about anybody’s real life.
• The language is gender exclusive – as if only men are in the room.
• There’s an American flag in the sanctuary. (Or a Canadian flag.  Or a Swiss flag, for that matter.)
• There’s no reference during any part of worship that anything’s happening in the world outside the congregation’s life. (Blood on the streets in Egypt.  A verdict in Florida.  Multiple kids have been shot in Chicago over the past 24 hours.)
• During the time of sharing prayer concerns, people are identified by first names, as if we all know these people.  (“Bob’s recovering well after the kidney surgery.  But Cathy’s cousin is still having migraines.“)
• The children’s story is way over their heads and a waste of time.  (“Repeat after me, children:  Sanctification.”
• The preacher seems to think we are stupid.  (e.g. A reference to “Paris, which is in France.“)
• And, at the same time, there is the assumption that we are smart about particular church rituals (e.g. A bowl is passed around throughout the worship time and nobody’s explains why.)

Apparently nobody knows where Paris is but everybody knows about the bowl.

See?  I can be pretty snarky.

Worship’s not always like this.  All it takes is somebody – even one person – being real.

One of the reasons that Nadia Bolz Weber is such a popular speaker and her church enjoys a steady flow of visitors/tourists, is because she is authentic and when talking about her church, she describes something authentic.  At Wild Goose recently, she said that her church – A House for All Sinners and Saints in Denver –   is “anti-excellence/pro-participation.”  They don’t do perfection.  (AHFASS fondly calls itself “Half Ass.”)

Let’s not waste that precious time when the people of God gather – whether it’s Sunday mornings or Tuesday nights – forgetting to connect with each other and our Creator/Redeemer/Sustainer, rather than going through the motions.  With a flag.  While somebody is passing around a bowl.

Image is a steeple we always see on vacation.  It blew off a church building a few years ago, and it’s still lying in the yard.  I always wonder what’s going on over there.

Our Presbytery examines new pastors – both the almost-ordained and the already-ordained-and-moving-into-our-Presbytery  pastor’s- by meeting with them as a team of 4-6 people who are ruling and/or teaching elders.  It’s one of my favorite church responsibilities.

Once upon a time, we asked those coming into our Presbytery to “defend” their statements of faith and/or speak to their call to professional ministry.  Today, 4-6 of us meet with them to have conversations about sin and resurrection and God’s reign and the meaning of life.  It’s a sublime experience.

I believe we experience church in conversations.

Here’s a crazy God Thing.  As we conversed with three people who will soon be our colleagues, I literally had intimate connections with each one, discovered only after intentional conversations with them:

• One is both a social worker and a pastor who – unknowingly – reminded me of those days before seminary when I was a social worker wondering why I felt like a pastor to my clients.
• One mentioned that her mom died in 1987 which is the same year my own mom died.
• One mentioned her children who are the same line-up and birth order as my own.

Ordinary connections, but connections nevertheless.

For hundreds of years, we have been the church by sitting alongside each other in pews on Sunday mornings and it’s been quite possible that we have worshiped for decades without ever having a conversation about our kids or our jobs or our hopes.

We cannot be the church unless we know each other beyond the pew-sitting.

Imagine a Christian community in which friends share their theological quandaries and questions.  When we talk about our doubts and joys and assurances, we find ourselves in a community that Changes the World.

That’s the kind of church I’m talking about.

Want specific ideas to get started this fall?

• Plan Theology on Tap or God Talk or Faith on Tap events instead of classes set up to have one smart person lecture everybody else.  (Everyone goes home smarter, perhaps, but no connections have been made except to the lecturer.)
• Have youth members interview the oldest members in pairs, and then invite the oldest members to interview the youth.  Be intentional about why this is happening (i.e. to get to know each other; not to judge or criticize.)  Cap it off with a snack together.
• Pause in the middle of a sermon to invite people to answer a question you pose by talking with those around them.  Note:  some will hate this and believe it’s not really worship.  Have a teaching moment (i.e. “It’s still worship.”)

Image source.

Note:  People who know Shawna Bowman recognize that she’s a genius.  I credit her with this idea of “Bivocational Church” from a conversation yesterday.

Lots of people believe that bivocational ministry will be more prevalent for 21st Century Pastors than in previous generations (except for that very first generation of Jesus followers, of course.)

Bivocational pastors work part-time in professional ministry and part-time in another field.  In a perfect world, that other field would dovetail nicely with preaching, teaching, and pastoral care – say, like a school teacher or social worker.  But I also have friends in bivocational ministry who are part-time baristas, bartenders, and construction workers.

Acts 18:3 

The real question is:  How in the world does someone serve a church 20-25 hours a week and still equip that church to grow?  Sadly, many bivocational pastors serve tiny churches that cannot afford a full time clergyperson and after writing a sermon, leading worship, and making a couple phone calls they’ve used up their 20-25 hours.  There is no time for teaching Bible studies, training leaders, offering pastoral care, or connecting missionally with the community.  Often churches with part-time pastors can do nothing but maintenance and it’s almost impossible for those congregations to grow.  It feels like the beginning of the end for once thriving churches with full time pastors.

But . . .

What if the bivocational pastor acknowledged her/his utter inability to “do it all” and instead invited the whole congregation to be a bivocational church? 

Imagine the culture of a congregation shifting with the realization that church is not merely about a “Sunday service” but actually it’s about a way of life?  What if the bankers, plumbers, bakers, and waitresses all saw that their life’s work was indeed bivocational because they, too, are ministers?

• We are all called to ministry – at least that’s what my own Reformed tradition declares.
• We are all called to follow the way of Jesus.
• We are all called to a “Christian vocation.”

What if the crux of the 21st Century Pastor’s ministry tasks involved equipping her/his parishioners to do ministry out in the world?  Imagine spending 20-25 hours per week focused on teaching others to preach, teach, visit the sick, pray, and shepherd God’s people.  What if the bivocational pastor focused on teaching her/his parishioners to be A Bivocational Church?

Image source.

Many parents will soon  send their progeny off to college hoping they’ll major in engineering.  Fewer parents long for their kids to major in theology or religious studies.  But it occurs to me that what the church needs are ecclesiastical or theological engineers.

Engineers are trained and gifted in re-working systems as opposed to technicians who address specific problems.  Radiological techs take and read x-rays.  AC technicians fix the air conditioning.  There are highly skilled technicians and low-skilled technicians but both have more expertise than the average person who tries to install her own ceiling fan.

The church needs more ecclesiological engineers. Wise and hopeful congregations will seek leaders who come in with a solid foundation of the basics – theology, pastoral care, preaching –  but who are also creative enough to know how to tweak the way things are done in order to fulfill the greater mission of God’s people.

The greater mission does not involve details like organizing Vacation Bible school or ordering biodegradable coffee cups, although those things are important and they point to the greater mission.  But many pastors find themselves doing those tasks – tasks the members should be doing.

Most pastors are technicians. They craft sermons and Bible Studies.  They fix problems.  They look at information and act on that information.  In the church, we find pastors who are highly skilled technicians and others who are low-skilled.

But we need more pastors who are engineers.  A church’s DNA can be altered only if someone (or a team of someones) is willing to do the delicate work of inserting new DNA.  A church’s systems can be shifted by careful tweaking.  A church’s culture can be altered by whip-smart, loving, spiritually gifted pastors.

Unless the engineering is done gently and lovingly, the whole thing comes crashing down.

This metaphor is not perfect.    But there are too few churches – and I’m grateful to know some- who are led by engineers/the highest skilled pastors who have clearly altered the DNA, culture, and systems of their congregations.

More tomorrow.

After two glorious weeks away traveling from Chicago to Brooklyn to the NC coast to Chapel Hill to the NC mountains/Wild Goose 2013, I am filled with energy, joy, and many ideas to ponder.  But it was a long drive home yesterday and I don’t yet have a handle on the impact of these recent blessed days.  It’s coming, but for now, here are some quick pieces of wisdom:

1. One-on-one conversations are crucial for faith development and intimacy.  21 people were on our family vacation at the beach and we had a magnificent time.  But I wish I’d been able to spend a whole day individually with each person talking about Things That Matter.  Sadly, I don’t have 21 days of vacation for this particular purpose. Nobody does. (But thank you Edmiston Family for a fabulous time.)
2. Pastors don’t have to be responsible for everything in their congregations. “I don’t feel responsible for what my parishioners believe.  I feel responsible for what they hear.” (Thank you Nadia Bolz Weber.)
3. If a person speaks a word that points to the Truth of God’s Word, that person is serving as a priest, regardless of who she/he might be.  On Sunday morning, HH and I went to see ancient Native American pictographs and met a retired science professor along the way who self-identified as a pagan. Nevertheless, he spoke the Truth to a couple of vacationing pastors.  (Thank you, God.)
4. There’s something wrong with a sanctuary when 1/3 of the entire space is set aside for 1-3 special people who get microphones. (Nadia again.)
5. Best explanation for why FBC (and countless others) mark their bodies with ink and piercings:  ” Many people, today, personalize everything (Hello, grande soy mocha with an extra shot) and personalizing your body is an act of spiritual storytelling.” (Again, from the lovely/inked NBW)
6. Huge insight I can’t wait to share with my seminarian/pastor friends – especially those who have experienced a large measure of pain:  “Preach from your scars, not your wounds.”  (Thank you again, O Pastrix.)
7. Wild Goose is a fun experience.  Camping is a fun experience.  For some people, it’s too hard to do both the same weekend.  Some of us need to take our Wild Goose learnings to a cabin with a shower and AC at the end of the day. (Thank you HH.)
8. Sometimes a glass of sweet iced tea can save your life.  (Thank you, Darkwood Brew, who donated 100% of their profits to Wild Goose.)
9. “We need some new protest songs.” (Yep, Amy Ray.)
10. “God calls us to speak the Truth in hostile situations.”  If we aren’t speaking up for the weak and oppressed in places where we might find push back if not rejection, we aren’t following Jesus.  (Thank you William Barber.)

More later.

Image of the French Broad River in Hot Springs, NC by Aneel Trivedi. 

Vacation feasting continues as I gorge on memories here in the town where I was born and raised, went to college, married my HH, and said goodbye to my parents.

All I have to do is walk the sidewalks for random memories to pour over me.

• There’s where I was sitting when I told S that her boyfriend was, in fact, gay.  
• Here’s my old dorm room where H came to crash for a few weeks after her mother died.  
• Over there on the wall of the gallery where several of us worked is the once  barely-attached-to-the-wall painting we used to borrow  to “give” to each other for birthday gifts only to return before morning.  Who doesn’t need a Rembrandt? (Note:  It’s now securely bolted to the wall.  I checked.)
• There’s the bush where I threw up after stumbling upon my boyfriend making out with his future wife.
• And over there’s the house where four of us, standing around bored at a party, decided to go to Europe together after graduation.

I haven’t lived here for 35 years but it’s my Ur.  God called me out of here to go where I hadn’t planned to go.

My current home is a community in the Midwest where many residents grew up as children.  They left home for college, perhaps, but returned to settle down and live their lives.  I know several people who live in towns like this across the country.  They’ve chosen to stay put for lots of good reasons.  Some towns are basically great places to live, great places to raise a family.

Who wouldn’t want to live in a place that’s comfortable and familiar and safe?

Place is sacred in my theology.  God calls us to specific places.

Some of us are called out of all that’s comfortable, familiar, and safe.  And some of us aren’t.  Neither is better than the other.

Occasionally loved ones have directly asked me: Why have I chosen to live so far away? Maybe it feels like I don’t want to be geographically (or even emotionally) close to family.  Actually, it would be nice to live closer to them.

But sometimes God calls us to go.  Remember Abram & Sarai?  I believe that God still calls us away.  Maybe not all of us are called to do this, but many of us are.  This – I’m convinced – is why Shane lives in Philly, Margie lives in Jordan,  Joanna lives in Thailand, and Matt lives in Pittsburgh.

God doesn’t say, “Please leave” or “Leave if you feel like it.”  It’s more of a “This is your next call.  Go.”

Honestly, it would be nice to live in NC again.  Or Virginia.  Or NY.  All places I’ve loved calling home.

But God’s called us elsewhere.  And because we are loved, God makes life beautiful wherever we’re sent.   This is grace.

Image is Abram and Sarai by Marc Chagall.

Summer = Church Conference Time for many of us.  It’s been a feast of possibilities this summer in the year of our Lord 2013:

• Big Tent just ended in Louisville.
• UNCO 2013 East Coast was held in June and a West Coast event is planned for the fall.
• Wild Goose begins this week in Hot Springs, NC

And then there have been/will be an array of Liturgical Arts Conferences, Preaching Conferences, Bible Conferences.  And of course the Mother of all conference centers –   Chautauqua   – offers dozens of interesting events all summer long.

How do you decide how to spend your precious time and money when it comes to enriching your soul?

• Do you choose a denominational event hoping to make connections and attend practical workshops?
• Do you seek enrichment in a specific area of spiritual or professional development?
• Do you look for theologians and artists you admire?

HH and I chose Wild Goose this summer – not just for the amazing line-up – but also for the creative interactions with people beyond our tradition and perspective.  We’ll report on how it goes.

But I’d like to hear from you.  Have you attended a church/spiritual conference this summer or do you plan to attend a conference?  And why did you choose this event over all others?

Image is art from Wild Goose.  The Indigo Girls will be singing to our heart’s delight.  

I am a middle-aged white woman with a college education living in a nice house with a good job.  I am a person of privilege.

When we talk about The Privileged in the United States of America, some of us get defensive.  We explain that we’ve earned what we have.  We’ve built the lives we lead.  We have worked hard to get where we are.

But the truth is that most of what we have is a result of winning the genetic lottery, being born into certain families, and having a leg up in terms of wealth, health, and opportunities.  Show me a person with an excellent education living in a great neighborhood and I’ll show you a person blessed with advantages that most likely gave him/her a head start.

I am especially aware of our privilege on my vacation – from where I write this today. Last night, I was feasting my eyes on 11 healthy kids (with two more healthy kids at home) from the porch of a lovely ocean-side “cottage” that sleeps 23 people, enjoying daily meals that –  for most people in the world – would be once-in-a-lifetime feasts.  Taking it all in, our enormous privilege was tangible.

All of our kids have the opportunity to go to college.  All of them have gone to excellent high schools because of where we are able to live.  All of us have passports marked with interesting stamps.  We drive cars that work.  We get paid vacations.  We have health insurance.

We are privileged.  But how do we respond to this privilege?  That question begs many others:

• Can we live privileged lives and truly follow Jesus?
• How much of our wealth are we willing to share so that others can  live in safety and comfort?
• Do we believe in a zero sum game when it comes to our way of life? (i.e. There is a limited amount of wealth, so if others have more, we will have less?)
• Do we want as many as possible to have what we have?

Some of us believe our stuff will save us.  And some of us say we believe that Jesus saves us, but we still depend on our stuff.  And a very few of us trust Jesus with all we have and are.

What I believe is that everybody should have the kind of vacation we are having this week,  with plenty of rest and food, surrounded by people who love us.

Driving from Chicago to Brooklyn today with a dog wearing a Thunder Shirt.  (The dog’s wearing the Thunder Shirt, not me.)

Occasional vacation posts to follow.

[Note:  It’s a privilege to write reference letters for colleagues and friends.  Occasionally we in the church are invited to offer “charges” to new pastors or their congregations with advice and reminders.  Nobody has asked me to offer charges to sorority girls, retired pastors, or pastor search committees, but that’s my plan before leaving for vacation.]

Dear Pastor Search Committee,

The truth is that you are the most important committee in the church.  Your choices will impact the future of your congregation for the rest of that congregation’s life.

No pressure or anything.  But here’s the good news:  God wants to direct you. Your job is to discern and listen and then act in faith, not in fear.

Having said this, I get that you don’t want denominational staffers to tell you what to do, but there might be some insights that we can contribute as entities who do this All The Time.  You don’t have to take this guidance, but honestly, we want you to have the best pastor possible and these tips will help.  You can find this out now or you can find this out later.  So please consider the following:

• For the love of God, please don’t judge a pastor by his/her gender, hair style, skin color, accent, age, or (even) education.  Maybe she went to the local community college for a really good reason.  Maybe he studied at Harvard but he’s a jerk.  Perhaps he has fabulous hair, but he has the pastoral skills of a carrot.  Maybe she won preaching awards but she’ll stab you in the back.  Maybe he’s quirky and yet there is a holy aura about him.  I’ve written about pulpit candy before in this blog.  Don’t choose pulpit candy.
• If you consider yourselves to An Amazing Church, congratulations.  But do not assume that all candidates believe you are all that.  If you come off as arrogant (“If we should deign to call you . . .“), if you believe that everyone will be clamoring to be your pastor, if you believe great candidates will come to you – beware.  The candidate you really want is not that shallow.
• If you consider yourself to be a church with little to offer, stop it.  You deserve a strong pastor.  Keep in mind that your community needs a shepherd who will teach you how to make disciples and love people.  Don’t settle for someone without the energy to serve you well.
• If several candidates have turned you down, stir up the courage to have someone contact the former candidates and ask what you could have done better.  Make it clear that you truly want to learn how you could be more hospitable, transparent, authentic.  And listen to those comments.
• Give people space and yet keep them informed.  Don’t interview somebody and then fail to be in touch for a month.  Acknowledge receiving their resumes.  And when they come into town, do not insist they look at certain neighborhoods while simultaneously offering a salary package that makes that neighborhood out of their financial reach.
• Tell the truth.  Don’t hide skeletons.  Don’t forget to mention the misconduct of your former pastor or the full financial picture of the congregation.  It will not be pretty – or fair – when your new pastor finds out the truth the week after her/his installation.
• Don’t rush.  It’s better to have no pastor than have a pastor who’s a terrible match.

Your congregation deserves a pastor who will understand you, love you, lead you, admonish you, and challenge you.  Pray for her/him.  Your next pastor is out there but it might take a while for you to find each other.

Grace and peace, Jan