A Church for Starving Artists

Once upon a time, college seniors with a call from God applied to seminary,
graduated in three years, and were ordained in their mid-twenties to serve as assistant or associate pastors in large institutional churches or as solo pastors in rural or small town institutional churches.  They were almost always male.  They usually married young. And they usually had children that they raised in the church.

About the time I felt God’s nudge, things were changing a bit:

• More women were feeling called to serve the church as pastors.
• Those women often needed to attend seminaries near their working husbands (which means they were not always free to relocate to attend a denominational seminary.)
• Some of those women didn’t follow their call to seminary immediately after college because they were raising their children, or they were supporting their husband’s careers, or they were unaware that professional ministry was even an option for their gender.
• Some men were increasingly taking different paths to seminary as well.
• Culture was changing.
• Church was changing.

It used to be true that all future pastors followed essentially the same path to serve the church professionally, but today seminarians are more diverse – and not only in terms of age and ethnicity.  Life situations are wildly varied among today’s future pastors.

For starters, fewer people are preparing to be future pastors, but that post is for another day.

This post is about something else:  Our seminarians and candidates for professional ministry are increasingly exceptional – in every way.

Our local Commission for the Preparation for Ministry  (the entity that oversees the process towards ordination for Teaching Elders/Pastors/Ministers of the Word and Sacrament in the PCUSA) was discussing recently the fact that our students and seminary graduates are increasingly asking for exceptions to the requirements.  Many have very good reasons.  Maybe they need to take field education in a foreign country because of family responsibilities.  Or maybe they need to figure out an accelerated course of study.  Or maybe they can only take Clinical Pastoral Education in a setting on the other end of the country.

Life is more complicated these days and sometimes this means exceptions are necessary.  This doesn’t mean we toss requirements that are merely inconvenient or difficult.  It means we prepare people in the best possible way for professional ministry based on their personal needs and situations.

Again, this is about traditional preparation for ministry.  There is a valid conversation in spiritual communities today that seminary may not be possible, practical, or necessary for all professional church leaders.  While I believe that there are gaps in seminary curricula today (e.g. in teaching missional ecclesiology or how to start new churches) I still value seminary education as an important tool for preparing people to serve God in spiritual communities professionally.

Seminary education is shifting.  From financial struggles to fewer applicants to cultural tsunamis, the seminary of 20th Century  and the seminary of the 21st Century need to do things differently, if they are going to be effective.

And in the meantime, we’ll continue to make exceptions as needed.  There’s more than one way to equip the saints for professional ministry.  And permission-giving is often an act of grace.

Image source.

I hope you will check out these  books  by friends  who serve the church by day and write by night (or the other way around.)

Pastors of the future – we are told – will have day jobs that involve work beyond the institutional church.  Pastors of the future might be nurses or teachers or barristas or community organizers by day and pastors by night (evening worship?) or on the weekends.  None but the Biggest Steeple Churches will be able to hire professional pastors full time.  At least this is what we are told.

As a person whose salary is covered by multiple churches via their per capita payments, I realize that my position is not a sure thing in the years to come. Congregations may increasingly refuse to pay their portion for reasons ranging from 1) not being able to afford  to pay $30 or more per member to 2) not experiencing that “higher judicatories” (the Diocese or Presbytery or District) are all that helpful.  So, why should congregations support them/us?

I have had several writing projects on the burners for years now, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how people work full time jobs and also write books/screenplays, especially if they have spouses they would like to spend time with, children they want to raise, and houses to clean.  My current position involves a 45 minute commute each way, and I have tried writing on the train, but then I have to haul a laptop (albeit a 5 pound laptop) for the mile and half walk from the train to the office.  Yes, it sounds like I’m whining and I am.

Writing or exercise?  Writing or movie with HH?  Writing or baking cookies for my kids in college?  These are my daily choices and usually writing doesn’t win – except for the spiritual discipline of writing these posts.

We are all looking for creative ways to balance our lives.  And life varies as the seasons change.

I really thought I’d have lots of extra time when everybody went to college.  But now, my commute is much longer than when the kids were home and it starts at 6:45 am.  And I still have night meetings.

Not looking for any suggestions from you, but wondering about your day job.  

• Do you long to do something in addition to what you do most of the time?
• Are you hoping to ditch your day job after you get your big break in writing or music or acting or some other creative endeavor?

Today my house is really clean and it’s my Sabbath and I just want to sit in it.

I am a Sabbath-challenged human being and the challenge is exacerbated when someone says this to me:

Church Guy:  I tried to reach you Friday but your voice mail said (insert chuckle here) it was your Sabbath (said like this:  SABbath in a Sarah Silverman voice.)

Yes, it’s my Sabbath and I will sit in my clean house and enjoy a good book.   Or I will nap.  Or I will bake things.  It’s yet to be determined as I write this post at 10:55 CT.

Cleanliness makes taking a Sabbath easier (which is why it’s a good plan to clean the house before our Sabbath and not on the day of.)  This is also true in congregations.  It’s good to come clean among our spiritual friends and I’m not just talking about vacuuming the dust bunnies under the pews.  Coming clean in church means

• forgiving each other,
• admitting we have enemies and then loving them,
• sharing what we have for the benefit of people who cannot return the favor

I can’t do any of those things if I’m exhausted.  And so today I rest in my clean house.

The author of the book of James wasn’t kidding.  Considering what people have said about Jesus for 2000 years – from the tempter  to Dan Brown  – it’s particularly interesting that these words came from a man that scholars believe was literally Jesus’ brother/half-brother.

The worst purveyors of gossip I’ve personally experienced have been church people.  This makes no sense to me logically or theologically.  Whole congregations of people who have stood up  and publicly proclaimed Jesus Christ to be their Lord and Savior on Sunday mornings barely get out of the church parking lot before sharing erroneous tidbits about people that can be life-ruining.

It’s a power play game, really.  In my current ministry, I see the firsthand devastation inflicted on individuals, families, and congregations by people who share lies as if they are truth:

– the pastor whose life is ruined because someone shares a rumor about her sex life or his finances, and it goes viral, especially if certain members see this as an opportunity to discredit the pastor,

– the elder who slips incendiary comments about the church treasurer’s honesty,

– the pastor who slanders a member in order to remove her from blocking his plans for the church.

How can followers of Jesus Christ do these things to each other?  People who sing “They will know we are Christians by our love”  and then fail to display self-control much less compassion.

We used to have notes on all the phones in the church building where I once served:

Is it true?  Is it kind?  Is it necessary?  It was a simple spiritual practice.

I’ve had to take church men and women old enough to be my parents and grandparents to the proverbial wood shed when they’ve shared erroneous information to hurt or discredit their brothers and sisters in Christ.  It’s embarrassing to do this, but it’s also essential.   We need to stop being “nice” in church and start speaking up when we see injustice – especially when it’s coming out of our mouths.

Kind of a preachy post today, but I’m weary of putting out those fires James was talking about.

This photo is in nobody’s Pinterest file.  It’s our kitchen ceiling.

Last January, the plumber had to cut a hole in our kitchen ceiling to replace a worn out pipe.  It was a mess but The Cleaning Lady from Heaven essentially Cloroxed our kitchen.  And then we needed to have someone else some repair the hole.

Now it is April and there is still a hole in the kitchen ceiling.  The weird thing is that I don’t even notice it anymore.  Friends from Virginia came to visit and said, “Wow, there’s a hole in your kitchen ceiling” and I said, “Oh, right.  There is.  We need to get that fixed.”  But office days are long and there’s work travel and Easter took a lot of attention.  But, yes, we need to get that hole fixed.  Honestly, I’m not even sure who to call for this.  (A plasterer?  A construction professional?)

The ecclesiastical moral of this story:  churches have had assorted versions of holes for years and we get used to them and don’t even notice, until an outsider comes in and notices the hole.  Churches’ possible responses:

• We can’t afford to fix the hole.
• We’re so used to the hole, we stopped noticing.
• I can’t believe you’d offend us by mentioning the hole!
• We’ll try to fix the hole ourselves, although we don’t really know what we’re doing.
• Do you know anyone who can help us fix this hole?  And maybe re-paint, while we’re at it?

Happy Wednesday.

I find myself humming this song as I ask, “How do we measure a year in the life of a church?”

Some would say it’s about numbers.  An elder once challenged me (yes, just me – as if church membership was solely my responsibility) to “grow the church by 10% each year.”  My response was that I could probably convince people to join the church to make that 10% increase but that I’d rather have 1% new people with a longing to follow Jesus than 10% new people with mere pulses.

Some say it’s about new programs, new ventures.  I increasingly balk at churches that congratulate themselves with a long list of programs and mission projects in their annual reports.  I would rather serve a church with one single transformational practice than a congregation that offers an array of programs which have become institutional obligations.  I would rather serve a church that gives a large, life-changing  sum to a single mission  than a church that donates a hundred dollars here and two hundred dollars there.

So, I need your help here.  If you know of assorted instruments for measuring a year in the life of a church, please share those resources.  I hesitate to call these metrics “measures of success” because a successful congregation in God’s eyes often has little to do with worldly success.

What questions would you ask church leaders in order to discern if a congregation is “thriving” spiritually or if a congregation is merely “surviving“?

Here are some off the top of my head:

• Can you identify an occasion in the last year when the congregation chose faith over fear?  Tell me about it.
• Is the church living off an endowment or do the tithes and offerings of the congregation cover all expenses?
• Can you name things your congregation tried that failed in the past year?  (Note:  if you didn’t fail at anything, you probably didn’t try anything new.)
• Can you name ten people who were spiritually transformed in your congregation in the past year?  What did that look like?
• Can you identify one person who was identified as a new leader in the past year, and then share how she/he is being equipped for ministry?  (Note:  this is a person who has never been a leader before in the life of your church.)
• What hymnal does your congregation use regularly?  (Note:  Maybe you don’t use a hymnal.  Or maybe you are using a hymnal published in 1947.)  How does music glorify God in your faith community?  (As opposed to pleasing your own personal tastes.)

What questions would you add to this list?

In a Presbytery in which I once served, there were whispers of a “Secret List” held among the leadership.  The covert list included three columns:

• The Healthy Churches
• The Churches Just One Crisis Away from Disaster
• The Dying/Dead Churches

The largest group was the middle column of congregations just one leaky roof, one kitchen fire, one sexual misconduct pastor away from life and death disaster.

The healthy churches were not necessarily “large” congregations in terms of numbers, but they was energy and vitality in the community.

The dead churches were – for the most part –  satisfied to struggle along until the coffers were empty and the last member was gone.

I’m not sure why this list was so secret.  Some churches live in serious denial of their vulnerability, and it seems to be a good idea to share the seriousness of their situation.  Sure, some congregations don’t want to hear the truth.   But there are others who need for us to look them square in the eye and say these words:  There is no way your congregation will be in existence 3 years from now without some serious shifts in the way you do ministry together.

Because I now work for The Presbytery and am immediately suspect (see this post) some congregations assume that I want them to close so that we can “take their building” or simply control them.  Actually all I want – and I honestly mean this – is for congregations to thrive and grow and transform people and neighborhoods in the name of Jesus Christ.

We are now in the process of discerning the health and future of our individual congregations and I need your help:

What metrics would you use to measure a congregation’s vitality and health?

What columns would you use to differentiate the thriving congregations from the fragile congregations?

How would you organize this list?

And finally: what is the best way to share the truth with congregations about their need to make changes in their ministry?  How can we get them to hear those of us who serve them?

And when we figure these things out, we won’t be keeping this list a secret anymore.  It’s time to act in faith to be a new church for the 21st Century.

There’s a joke about two people in a bar – one being a businessman and the other being a prostitute.

Prostitute:  Hey Big Guy, want to have some fun?  I’ll do anything for you.

Businessman:  Anything?

Prostitute:  Yes, anything!

Businessman:  Paint my house.

Not only is that joke politically incorrect, but it’s metaphorically problematic as well.  But I hear varieties of this conversation in the context of the church on a regular basis.  It goes something like this:

Church Leaders:  We’ll do anything to grow.  That’s all we want for our church.

Me:  You’ll do anything?

Church Leaders:  Yes, anything!

Me:  Hire a bilingual pastor, since your neighborhood increasingly speaks Spanish.  Move out of your building because it’s a money pit and you will never be able to afford what it will take to refurbish it.  Mix it up in your worship style.  Welcome  those people who visit occasionally and take them out for lunch or coffee this week.  Offer a Bible study in a local diner or bar. 

Church Leaders:  We didn’t mean things like that.

The great news is that they are in fact some congregations who would do anything.  Check this out – below –  (and please be patient with the buffering.)

Art by the amazing Shawna Bowman.

Dear Sweet Man on Plane Yesterday,

Even though I like to read on airplanes and my Kindle was open and ready to go, it was clear you wanted to talk on our flight between Little Rock and Dallas.  Of course, we found connections:  we’ve both lived in Northern Virginia, we share the same political proclivities (and I loved your fun Bill Clinton stories.)  We are both Presbyterians, even knowing some of the same pastors.  When I told you I was going to the Board of Pensions Regional Meeting you nodded knowingly.

But in the back of my mind as we talked about church, what I wanted to do was hand over my Kindle and plea that you read this book and get back to me.

Clearly you are a wonderful man with an interesting history and a satisfying life.  And yet you aren’t deeply satisfied.  Among the things you said that made me want to hug you and quote Diana Butler Bass:

• We’re thinking about switching to the Baptist Church because the preaching is better.  The sermon isn’t supposed to be entertaining, but, to tell you the truth,  I like being entertained.
• Maybe I should go to a Bible Study or something.
• I’ve been ushering for years but it’s an obligation, really.

When people think of the word “religion” they consider external things: “institutions, organizations, buildings, dogma, rules, hierarchy, order, and authority”  From Christianity after Religion by Diana Butler Bass

All together now:  Yuck. 

What we long for are the internal things:  deep community, unconditional hospitality, spiritual peace, God moments.  But – even if your spiritual community is a house church – there will be some management required.  The not-fun-stuff of ministry.  Somebody’s got to be sure there is toilet paper.  And coffee.

When I first read the job description for my current church position, one job requirement stood out:  The Ability to Sit Through Long Meetings.

Really, that is one of my job requirements, which begged the question:  Just how long are these meetings?  For the record, I’ve not experienced terribly long meetings, or at least they haven’t felt long, mostly because they are about things I love:

• talking with people about their faith journeys and how they believe in God
• hearing about what God is telling people – often over coffee or lunch
• mediating tough issues as brothers and sisters in Christ
• figuring out how we can get out of the way and help somebody’s call come to life

I love this stuff.  But – from all outward appearances – I am the purveyor of rules and regulations.  I am the person who is going to make pastors and churches do something they don’t want to do.  I am “The Presbytery.”

I planned to go to a church meeting to talk about their mission plans a couple weeks ago, but the day of the meeting was asked not to come.  “They don’t want ‘The Presbytery’ there.”

When I first came on board, I hoped to get together with everybody who (like myself) attended the first Fellowship of Presbyterians gathering in Minneapolis.  But I was told it wouldn’t be good to attend because I now represented The Presbytery (and apparently this was not a good thing.)

I also wanted to get together with the pastors under 40 to help them get stuff done – in a new way.  After a couple attempts in the first months of my ministry, I am finally invited to assorted meetings of the Young Turks, so to speak.  It wasn’t certain, at first, if it was a good plan to have somebody from The Presbytery present.

Here’s the thing, we are all The Presbytery here in The Windy City and Windy Cityland – all PCUSA ruling elders, teaching elders, parishioners, friends, etc.  I just try to make things happen – God-willing – to the glory of God. 

Yes, I sit through long meetings.  But that’s not half bad considering what I get to talk about and listen to.  I’m not crazy about being the scapegoat when a pastor or church needs to blame someone.  (e.g. “The Presbytery made us do this.”)  It goes against every emerging church cell in my body to work in an administrative role for the institutional church – God’s little joke on me.

But – yes, I’m the Presbytery – and to sort of quote one of my favorite theologians – so can you.