A Church for Starving Artists

There are moments in our lives when – if we are paying attention – we realize that life is about to change forever and it will never be the same: a child leaves for college (and is actually able to leave and live away from home), a child or sibling or parent gets married, a family member is born or dies.

Although I don’t want to freak you out, the changes congregations have made because of this pandemic are here to stay. There is no “when things are normal again.” I’m not sorry.

For decades, the culture has been changing:

• Fewer people have been “going to church” since the mid-1970s. And it’s not because preachers are too political or younger generations are uncommitted or families are too busy.
• Church Membership has become less important than spiritual community-building.
• Gathering in a church building has never been the point.
• Spiritual practices (how to pray, how to read the Bible, how to serve our neighbors) are no longer passed on from generation to generation without intentionality.
• Knowing about Jesus is in no way the same as knowing Jesus.

The congregational changes we have made will be permanent.  At the very least, our congregations will have a both/and future in terms of virtual or in-person worship experiences,  classes, and meetings.  I’m seeing online church gatherings comprised of people who live in other states, who belong to other congregations, who do not self-identify as having any faith, who self-identify as having a completely different faith.  This is a good thing.

But “how will our churches survive financially?” you ask.  If the Tuesday night Bible study is filled with people who are not members of our church, how will be be able to 1) keep track or 2) ask for financial support?  

How will we pay for church buildings if we are not using our buildings?  How will we pay for church staffing if our leaders are serving people who aren’t members?  

I’m looking at other possible permanent changes in the not-so-distant future:

• Pledging money to our churches will no longer be transactional.  Instead of donating money in exchange for getting first dibs on registering our children for the church pre-school or the privilege of using the sanctuary for weddings or funerals, we will pledge money to support an impactful mission that helps people beyond our own circle of family and friends.
• Church property will either be sold to fund community ministries or will be used for new hands-on mission initiated by the Church: affordable housing, affordable childcare, job-training for people in transition, mental health facilities. A congregation that merely meets on Sunday mornings doesn’t need a campus of multiple classrooms and offices.  Our church buildings are not trophies; they are tools for mission.
• It won’t be enough to be better informed.  Good for you if you joined the anti-racism book group.  Congratulations if you know there are two creation stories in Genesis.  It doesn’t matter if your efforts don’t bring transformation. Jesus’ disciples didn’t learn how to follow Jesus for their own self-improvement.  Jesus expected their lives to change so that the world would change.

I’m sorry if this brings you pain.  It pains me a bit too.  (I love a good pipe organ.)  But here’s the crucial question:

Are we willing to give up all the old ways we’ve been the Church for the sake of the Gospel?  Put another way, are we willing to address what breaks God’s heart in this divided, broken, cold world in the name of Jesus Christ – even if it means that the way we’ve been the Church will never be the same again?

Some of you know the story about my friend who wouldn’t let anyone into her house.  It was a beautiful – even palatial – home with lovely landscaping on a sunny street.  Even her longtime friends  – people who’d known her for 50 years – would confide in me that they had never been inside her home.

She in no way seemed to be a hoarder.  In fact, she was fastidious about her appearance and her whole life seemed steady and happy.

When she was sick, I took casseroles over and when she met me at the door, she wedged it open just enough to take my lasagna and thank me.  I remember seeing a fine chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the entryway but that was all I could see.

After several years of attempts, this thing felt like a challenge.  I really wanted to see the inside of her house. I brought TBC with me, armed with the Girl Scout Cookies my friend had ordered.

(And now here comes the True Confessions part of this story.)

I instructed young TBC that – when this friend opened her front door – TBC should wedge the door open with her little foot.  It worked.

While handing the bag of Thin Mints through the doorway and then preventing the door from closing quickly, we saw the inside of this house.  Finally.

It was empty.

I don’t know why, but it was empty. No furniture, lamps, rugs, nothing.  The home of this perfectly kempt woman was devoid of any sign of daily living in there.  She was the opposite of a hoarder.

We almost never know what’s really going on inside.  Inside a home.  Inside someone’s head.  Inside another person’s body.

I always feel for people with back problems because we often can’t see any sign of the pain – outwardly.  (We tend to castigate these people who park in handicapped spaces without benefit of a wheelchair or even a limp.)  The truth is that we have no idea what’s going on inside their bodies.

Even for those of us who call ourselves “an open book” there are things nobody knows about what’s going on inside except for God.  This is a long way of saying that we need to be gracious and cognizant of the fact that we don’t know what’s behind a closed door – literally or figuratively.

• The perfectly happy family is certainly imperfect.
• The angry child is actually scared or in pain.
• The impressive organization might be teetering on collapse if we look closely.
• And the small congregation might be rock solid in terms of deep peace and abiding faith.

This is the perfect time to be lavish grace-givers.  God knows we need to address our fear, our anger, our anxiety, and our irritability with grace towards ourselves and each other.  Grace is what God offers us and grace is what God expects us to offer each other.

Breathe.  The pandemic will be over some day.  And the election will be over soon -ish.

I remember once asking a friend who worked as a flight attendant if she ever felt like a waitress on the airplane. (These were the days before restaurant employees were called “servers” or “wait staff.”) She was a little offended by my simplistic take on her work and she said something like this: “Yeah, I guess I’m a waitress who can open the emergency door of a 747 upside down under water.” Got it.

Post-shoulder surgery, I have become a master of using only my non-dominant arm.  I use my feet, my good shoulder, my lap and my forehead to do all kinds of things that my right arm used to do.  I’m feeling very dexterous these days.  And – because of modern medicine – I’ll actually get to use my right arm again eventually. (Please stop what you are doing this second and thank God for physical therapists and occupational therapists.)

These days demand extreme dexterity.

• Parents are bouncing toddlers on their knees while taking Zoom calls.
• Teachers are creating lessons that keep students interested while also juggling lessons for their own children at home.
• Church leaders are generating a constellation of options for worship and educational offerings.
• Hospitals have established innovative ways to treat patients while protecting their own safety.

21st Century Church leaders have been encouraging The Church to be nimble, adaptive, and innovative for decades now.  Leave it to COVID-19 to force us into pastoral dexterity.

The thing is: pastoral dexterity is exhausting.  It’s harder to work out in stilletos than in sneakers.  Seriously, there are fitness classes that encourage participants to exercise in heels.  It’s a tougher workout AND it’s also dangerous.  Wearing high heels in general increases the chances of straining muscles, so imagine what could happen if we wear stilletos to wash the car or rake leaves.

I am not thrilled with the reality that I need someone to cut my food for the next several months any more than I want to learn how to sleep in new positions.  But this is life and – whether we like it or not – this is Church.

Question to discuss in your church leadership meeting:  Where in our ministry are we rheumatic as a congregation (either we can’t move or it hurts to try) and where are we Simone Biles?

Most of our congregations cannot do the spiritual equivalent of this.  But we can do better.

What intimidates us as a congregation?  Have we forgotten that we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us?  It’s a real thing.

Image of Heel Hop class in 2013.

Leadership is the art of the possible. – Jon Meacham in The Soul of America

Everybody seems to be concerned about The Soul of the United States. Real Question for international readers: Do people who live outside the United States discuss their country’s soul?  What is Ghana’s soul?  What is the soul of the Philippines?

Episcopalian Jon Meacham wrote The Soul of America – The Battle for Our Better Angels two years ago, and  in 2020 people are still pondering what this means:

• Joe Biden – “This campaign isn’t just about winning votes. It’s about winning the heart and, yes, the soul of America.”
• The Trump Campaign – ‘A recent Trump campaign ad with the words “Save America’s Soul” challenged the Democrats’ desire “to reclaim the soul of America.”
• Joy Harjo, the current U.S. poet laureate and member of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation: “It is like everything is broken at once. We are at a point of great wounding, where everyone is standing and looking within themselves and each other.”
• Marlo Tucker, California Director of Concerned Women for America: “It really comes down to what do you stand for, and what do you not stand for.”
• Frederick Douglass (in 1844) “The real and only-to-be-relied-on movement for the abolition of slavery … is a great moral and religious movement.  The work of which is ,,, the fixing in the soul of the nation …“

(Source for these quotes here and here.)

People of the United States: what exactly is the soul of our nation?

Throughout Election Year 2020 I’ve heard that we are both the greatest nation ever and also a country that’s lost it’s way.  We are a nation that has – historically – not loved its native peoples, its new immigrants, and those who arrived on slave ships as much as we’ve loved wealth and power.  

What kind of soul do we have?  And what kind of soul do we want?  

Elections tend to peg people as if we are purely “for” or “against” things.  Most of us fail to do our research and we equate real journalism with tabloid journalism or we real misleading headlines while passing over the stories.  It’s easy to be an irresponsible citizen.

I will admit that I have personally learned more from observing poor leadership than observing stellar leadership, but that doesn’t mean that we should keep poor leaders around.  If you haven’t voted already, please consider voting for the best leaders.

For some, strong leaders are humble, self-sacrificing, and empathetic.  For others, strong leaders are hard-nosed and uncompromising.  The truth is that sometimes we need leaders who will cry with us and sometimes we need leaders who will not back down in the face of injustice.

Even throughout my recovery, people tried to contact me for reference checks for pastors.  It’s hard to offer a clear-headed assessment of a leader while on meds, but it’s even harder to offer a sound assessment when I don’t know the congregation and what kind of leader they need.  What’s the soul of your congregation?  It’s not an easy question to ask – even in the Church.

If I may be so bold, I’d like to repeat what one of my colleagues said several months ago regarding the soul of our nation and what we need in a leader:

After a particularly tumultuous time in a congregation because the previous pastor was – let’s say – guilty of misconduct or bullying or disruptive personal issues, it’s always best to choose a transitional leader who will be steady and calm.  (Thank you RM.)

We, the people need to recover and reclaim our “why?”  Why do we exist?  Do we exist for ourselves?  For each other?  For those in need?

For this reason, I am praying that we will elect leaders who are steady and calm and who will help us reclaim our “why?”  Why are we – the United States – a country concerned about our soul in the first place?

(The fact that we are concerned makes me love my country even more.)  Please vote.

Ice is an underrated miracle and it’s helped me survive the past two weeks. I had surgery on October 6 for a torn rotator cuff that also turned out to be a torn biceps and a couple other issues. One arthroscopic hole turned into ten, and – even so – all is well,

A couple things I learned while spending my days on painkillers and an ice machine:

1. Inspiration is not just for people on the cusp of jumping off emotional cliffs. When you are on painkillers, your dreams are more interesting and your daily living may or may not be impacted. I heard that there was a plan to kidnap the Governor of Michigan and I first thought that was the Hydrocodone talking. But it wasn’t. I found much-needed inspiration in these tumultuous times in several movies and television series while on ice: The Last Dance, The 40 Year Old Version, and The Way I See It were all life-changing for different reasons. I cried watching all three (and that probably was the Hydrocodone talking.) People seem to be craving inspiration.  There is beauty and meaning out there and it brings meaning to share beauty with others.   
2. It’s okay to take a break from regular life.  I took two weeks off of work for the first time in a long time and everybody survived/thrived.  Seriously, I took no work texts, read no work emails, and didn’t answer the phone.  Sabbath is a commandment and sometimes it takes a scalpel to make it happen.  (Don’t wait for a scalpel.)
3. Sometimes we hurt ourselves without realizing it. When the doctor asked when my shoulder was injured, I couldn’t identify the moment. There was no accident, no memorable crash.  During Sitting-With-Ice Time, it occurred to me that when I moved back in February, it took more out of me than I’d realized.  I was only moving from the fifth floor to the fourth floor of our building.  Easy, right?  Apparently it took it’s toll in quiet ways – until it didn’t feel quiet anymore.  Sitting quietly to ponder the past can be very revealing.

Eugene O’Neill wrote his classic play The Iceman Cometh in 1946 and it speaks to what’s happening in 2020. Broken people. Disillusionment. Real hopes. False hopes. Political chaos. 

Relationships are crucial in these days and care for our neighbors is more important than ever.  Thanks to all of you who were such loving neighbors while I was out of commission.  I appreciate you.

How can we be better neighbors?  How can we support those who long for inspiration?  How are we encouraging Sabbath (before hospitalization is needed)?  How can we offer healing for those who are hurting?

This is the mission of the Church.  We have been called to serve others in the name of Jesus.  Let’s go.

It”s possible that as you are reading this, I’ll be in the midst of rotator cuff surgery – or I’ll be recovering from it.  People tell me that this will not be fun – especially since the surgery is on my dominant side.

The word “shoulder” shows up 45 times in the Bible – and it refers to lots of activities:

• Carrying Supplies & Animals
• Sewing Parts of Fancy Clothes
• Cooking Food Offerings
• Saving the World

I tend to use my shoulders for lesser duties, but even so, I’ll miss using it over the next several weeks so no blog posts for a while.  I covet your prayers – especially that I can adapt to the pain and new sleep positions.

I will especially miss holding a phone and a coffee cup at the same time, but my life is pretty sweet if that’s the worst of it.  Enjoy these fall weeks and I’ll be back when the doc okays it.

Image source.

“We’re, relatively speaking, very unaccustomed to sacrifice anymore in this country.”

“If you told my grandparents or I’m guessing yours or many other people listening that they had to sacrifice for six weeks, that would save hundreds of thousands of lives and get the economy back, you know, these are people who lived through a 10-year depression. They lived through who knows what kind of turmoil in their own country if they came to the U.S. They lived through a 6-year world war.” Andy Slavitt

I’m a fan of immediate gratification.  I’ll admit it.  If I’m really thirsty, it’s easier for me to buy a bottle of water than wait for 30 minutes until I get home.  And yet I’m working on sacrificing the present for the future rather than sacrificing the future for the present.

This is a post, though, about making sacrifices for the good of the whole rather than for our own good.

According to Dr. Andy Slavitt who directed the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services under President Obama,  COVID-19 could be gone – GONE – here in the United States if only everyone – EVERYONE – would wear a mask for the next 4-6 weeks.  It seems to be a small sacrifice if it means eliminating this virus and saving lives.

But as Dr. Slavitt said in an interview last week, “We’re, relatively speaking, very unaccustomed to sacrifice anymore in this country.”

The individuality and selfishness and distrust of science and politicalization of everything is ruining our culture.  We see it everywhere:

• The person who refuses to wear a face mask while shopping.
• The person whose life purpose is to perpetuate their own personal way of life.
• The person who cares first and foremost about their job, their family, their health without any regard for the job, family or health of others human beings.
• The person who plays K Pop full blast at a public pool without ear buds as if everyone loves BTS as much as he does. (This might have happened at our pool.)

It’s almost as if some people think that the world is just about them.

“Duty” is a Greatest Generation word but I know people in each generation – including the Zs – who recognize that we human beings have a duty to consider other human beings when we make choices – whether those choices involve daily decisions or sweeping political decisions.

Unfortunately our sense of duty has been tainted by politics (COVID-19 is a hoax) and misinformation (BLM is a Marxist organization) and white supremacy (immigrants are taking all our jobs.)

As a person of faith I believe that in life and in death we belong to God.  A Muslim friend recently said those exact words to me after his mother died of COVID-19.  People of many faiths believe we are on this earth to be God’s people and to love the people God created.

Sacrifice is not a bad word.  In fact, it’s a word we need to teach our children and our neighbors and our enemies in the way we live our own lives.

It’s 2021 Pledge Season for congregations who raise funds that way and for other non-profit organizations.  I remember talking with a young woman with an amazing job and an amazing life who was so beautiful – truly – that at least two men joined our church just to get to see her once a week.  She asked me about “this pledging thing.” And I told her what percentage many people in the congregation were pledging.

“That’s crazy,” she said.  “That’s so irresponsible.  People need to care for themselves first and foremost.”  I’ve never forgotten that conversation over coffee.  She was a lifelong church person who missed the part in the Bible that speaks of service – even service to the point of death.

We are called to care for each other.  Please wear a mask.  And consider voting for people whose policies will protect the vulnerable and the weak.  Thank you.

Maybe your congregation leans red.  Maybe it leans blue.  Maybe your congregation is authentically purple.  Maybe nobody ever discusses “politics” or “social justice” or anything remotely controversial – so who really knows how your church leans politically?

[Note: Jesus was killed because of politics.  I’ll just put that out there.]

Our politics influence our faith and our faith influences our politics.  And no matter what we or our congregations believe politically, we will be the Church after the U.S. election.  This is a good time to discern what kind of church we will be.

• Will we acknowedge out loud that our nation is divided  and pray for peace?  I sadly believe that there are some congregations who will not even acknowledge that there is a consequential election happening.  And others might pray for continued division “for the sake of the gospel.”  How will we pray?
• Will we recognize that people are heartbroken/angry/disappointed and organize a Zoom gathering to weep and vent and pray together no matter who prevails in the election?  No matter what happens some people will despair.
• Will we rev up our efforts to serve The Least of These?  God has clearly called us to serve the poor, the sick, the vulnerable, the imprisoned.  We can become paralyzed after this election.  We can become energized.  But whatever we are, we cannot forget our holy purpose.
• Will we vilify believers who disagree with us?  People of faith have always disagreed.  But will we spend precious time demonizing each other?
• Will we make a commitment to connect with those who disagree with us?  Will we seek to forgive each other?  Love each other? See each other through the eyes of Christ?
• Will we offer resources for those whose families and friends have become estranged?  This could be one of the most practical ministries we might offer.
• Will we commit to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with God – no matter who we voted for?

It’s not too early to consider what kind of church we will be after this election.  My deepest prayer is that we will be the kind of church that pleases God, first and foremost.  Please invite your congregations to consider what happens beyond November 3rd.  We have a little more than four weeks to discern who and what we will be.

Have a beautiful weekend.

I remember sitting with my mother as she was dying. For the purpose of self care, my Dad, siblings and I took turns being with her.  We believed that whoever happened to be there when she died was supposed to be there but none of us were going to be heroes camping out 24/7 for as long as it would take.

It was comforting to hold her hand and whisper comforting words, but it was also soul-wracking.  When someone is in terrible pain and there’s nothing you can do, it takes it’s toll on the witnesses.  And knowing that more morphine would eventually stop her breathing was also excruciating.

When I would leave my shift and take a break, it was almost offensive to hear people joking around in the hospital elevator.  Didn’t they know I was grieving?  Didn’t they see from the look on my face that I was not okay?

I thought of this yesterday when two African American sisters shared their experiences as People of Color who are dealing – not only with the pandemic – but also with the general realities of Living While Black.  They were well aware that George Floyd could have been their son or brother or nephew.  They could effortlessly imagine Breonna Taylor being their daughter or sister.  The daily trauma of being Black in this country is nothing new.  But add it to the pandemic anxieties and the political news (including confirmation that the President of the United States cannot condemn white supremacy) it feels like a particularly brutal time.

Emotions are raw, and yet privileged White neighbors and colleagues are often going about our business joking around as if the world is okay.  It’s not okay.  The world isn’t okay.  And our Friends of Color are not okay.  When we encounter our Black and Brown neighbors, are we cognizant of what they are going through?

On the other hand, many of us with White skin are not personnally impacted by COVID-19 or police brutality or daily microaggressions.  And so they don’t exist for us.  We have nothing to worry about.  Those issues belong to somebody else.

This is the definition of White Privilege.

But we can do something for those who are affected personally.  We can notice.  We can see them. We can be respective of their grief and rawness.

If – by some chance – your life hasn’t been “so bad” over the past six months, consider why that is.  It might be time to honor the raw nerves of those whose loved ones have had (and maybe died from) COVID-19.  It might be time to acknowledge that a news story is not just a news story for some people.  It might be time to remember that this election season is particularly personal for many of us in terms of who we are and the impact that specific policies will have on us – depending on who prevails on November 3.

I’m not saying don’t be happy.  I’m not saying there is nothing hopeful or funny or beautiful out there.  I’m just saying that even on a gorgeous day, Breonna’s killer is still not being held accountable and at any moment another innocent Black person could be assaulted by the police.

Let’s hold that thought as we go through this lovely Thursday God has given to us.

Top image is a photograph of raw nerves by Gary Holmes.  The bottom image has been widely used over the summer in light of the protests about the killing of unarmed Black Americans.

Have you hit the Pandemic Wall yet?  It’s been six months.

Not one of us can know for sure whether or not this is The Beginning, The Middle, or The End of this COVID 19 Pandemic.  Politics do not determine what a virus will do – no matter what people say.

Some say that the end is around the corner.  And some are saying that it will get worse before it gets better.  We just don’t know.

For religious leaders of several faiths, this is ordinarily The Busy Season:

• Sukkot is October 2-9 (Jews)
• World Communion Sunday is this weekend (Mainline Protestant Christians)
• Reformation Sunday is October 25 (Reformed Mainline Protestant Christians)
• All Saints Day is November 1 (Roman Catholic and Mainline Protestant Christians)
• Advent is November 29-December 25 (Roman Catholic and Mainline Christians)
• Hanukkah is December 10-18 (Jews)
• Christmas Eve is December 24 (Roman Catholic and Protestant Christians)
• Christmas Day is December 25 (Roman Catholic and Protestant Christians)

It’s also – ordinarily – the season of new classes, stewardship programs, and Thanksgiving mission events.  If we were all meeting in person, our calendars would be overscheduled with meetings, classes, and hands-on projects.

Most of us still have those overscheduled calendars only we are also dealing with home-schooling students, isolation, inability to travel freely and visit people, limited social outlets, loss of income, change of personal plans, constant criticism from congregants, and general anxiety about the future.

Will people ever “come back” to church”

Will we ever recover from this?

What work are you actually doing from home, anyway?

Here is a well-traveled article by University of Toronto Professor Aisha Ahmad that helps as we have hit the six month mark of this pandemic.  Dr. Ahmad offers comfort and wisdom:

1. Hitting the wall at six months is normal.  While we might have started with a burst of energy in March, “you may suddenly feel as though you have run out of fuel.”
2. We need a little break.  Dr. Ahmad’s research with soldiers, disaster relief workers, and others in traumatic situations finds that we are tired at six months in a way that we weren’t tired at three months or we won’t be in a few weeks. “If a physical retreat is not possible, there are ways to create a mental or figurative ‘shore leave’.”  Give yourself permission to read a whole novel, take afternoon naps, walk outside more.  Re-watch all the Harry Potter movies.  Stare into space with your favorite cup of warm beverage.
3. Double up on Self-Care.  If you ordinarily see a therapist, coach, or spiritual director consider adding more time with them if needed.  Start later in the day or end earlier.  Take a daily nap. Get a mani-pedi/massage (whatever you can legally do in your state) as often as you can afford it.  Call your mom.  Call someone who loves you like your mom.
4. Manage expectations. “It’s unreasonable to expect to be sparklingly happy or wildly creative right now.”  If it takes five days to write a stewardship letter, let it take five days.
5. Don’t Be Afraid Going Forward.  We’ve learned things since March. We’ve adapted – maybe quickly, maybe slowly.  We can do this because we’ve done it.
6. Don’t Bash Your Head Against the Wall.  We’ll get on the other side of it but not by hurting ourselves.

And if we are tempted to give other people a hard time right now – please, for the love of God – be kind.  Stop judging those working from home.  Do something kind for your spiritual leaders.  No bullying.  No second-guessing your pastors, priests, rabbis, imams especially about COVID-19 safety issues.

Yes, we are hitting a wall.  Yes, the winter is coming.  This is an excellent time to grant grace to ourselves and to each other.