A Church for Starving Artists

My brain is blurrier these days for several reasons ranging from pandemic fog to Zoom overload. Yesterday I couldn’t remember the word “liturgy.”

Professional and personal boundaries are also blurred during this pandemic time in small and not-so-small ways:

1. We get to see inside people’s private homes and offices on Zoom calls. This Global Health expert has an electric guitar on her wall. Anthony Fauci collects baseballs. (Not surprisingly) Martha Stewart has a really nice espresso machine and (surprisingly) a dog that sheds like crazy. Would someone please interview Phoebe Waller Bridge from her London flat? Or Cynthia Erivo? Fun game you can play at home: who has a Bible on their bookshelf?  In a world in which it is not okay to peep through somebody’s windows, it is okay to check out their private space online.
2. Work/Home lines are definitely blurred during this time of home quarantine, if we are fortunate enough to have jobs and be able to work from home.  I can turn off my Zoom video and eat a sandwich while the rest of the committee talks.  I can bake a quiche during a staff meeting.  And I can answer emails after 10 pm if I want. (Actually that was always true.) My therapist recommends that I shut down work at 5 and not look at it again until the next morning, and I wasn’t even good at that pre-COVID.  In a world where it’s not okay to wear pjs to the office, now it’s perfectly fine to wear them all day with an appropriate shirt.
3. After beloved pastors leave our church to go to another church, we can still see them in worship every Sunday via YouTube and Facebook Live.  It’s like they never left!  In a world in which former pastors sign separation agreements to refrain from offering pastoral care after they leave us, it’s now okay to watch them preach every Sunday.

Clear boundaries are essential in any organization and yet those boundaries might be forever altered post-pandemic.  Many people plan to continue meeting via Zoom.  Many congregations plan to offer online worship long after a vaccine is available.  And it’s increasingly difficult to fully separate from the relationships we enjoyed in previous workplaces.

We face the adventure of figuring all this out in the coming years.  I see the creation of new boundaries that maintain appropriate roles and norms AND allow for more permission-giving and fluidity.

This is a good thing if we take on the attitude that this is a time of creativity and courage.  As a person who wears eyeglasses, it’s a little scary when the world looks blurry.  But if we help each other and ask for holy guidance, we’ll continue to move in the right direction.

Image source.

As a pastor who serves people of differing political opinions, I often say that the Bible is an equal opportunity offender.  There are verses that offend most Democrats and there are verses that offend most Republicans.  God is neither a Democrat nor a Republican.

Although they might make me sad, frustrated and even angry, political differences about issues like bank deregulation or clean water or the defense budget or the next Supreme Court justice are not enough to make me want to break up with you as a friend or colleague or family member.

But – and I write this with trepidation – there is a vote coming up ten weeks from today and the results could physically threaten my family.

[NOTE: It always frustrates me when politicians speak up because it personally impacts their own families.  Example: The senator who is quiet about protecting LGBTQ citizens until his son comes out as gay. And yet, here I am.]

I am white. And there are three brown people in my immediate family: two by marriage and one by unofficial adoption.  And I fear for their safety in these politically divided days.  It’s one thing when you vote for someone whose policies are against what I believe as an American Christian.  It’s another thing when you vote for someone whose incendiary words could get my kids killed.

The heartbreaking part is that people who know and love my kids are the very people who are considering a vote for the one who’s put their lives at risk in a way they’ve never been at risk before in this country.

Isabel Wilkerson spells out what I’m talking about in her excellent book Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents:

• (Before the 2016 election) – A police commander in southern New Jersey talked about mowing down African-Americans and complained that the woman candidate, the Democrat, would ‘give in to all the minorities.’ That September, he beat a handcuffed black teenager who had been arrested for swimming in a pool without authorization.  The commmander grabbed the teenager’s head and, witnesses said, rammed it ‘like a basketball’ into a metal doorjamb.  As the election drew near, the commander told his officers that the reality television star ‘is the last hope for white people.’
• (After the 2016 election) – A man on a golf course in Georgia could feel freer to express himself.  He was a son of the Confederacy, which had gone to war against the United States for the right to enslave other humans. The election was a victory for him and for the social order he had been born to. He said to those around him, ‘I remember a time when everybody knew their place. Time we got back to that.’
• (After Inauguration Day) – A white man in Kansas shot and killed an Indian engineer, telling the immigrant and his Indian co-worker to ‘get out of my country’ as he fired upon them.
• (In February 2017) – A clean-cut white army veteran caught a bus from Baltimore to New York on a mission to kill black people. He stalked a sixty-six year old black man in Times Square and stabbed him to death with a sword.
• (In May 2017) – On a packed commuter train in Portland, Oregon, a white man hurling racial and anti-Muslim epithets, attacked two teenaged girls, one of whom was wearing a hijab. ‘Get the ___ out,’ he ranted. ‘We need Americans here.’
• (In August 2017) – A white supremacist drove into a crowd of anti-hate protesters in Charlottesville, Virginia, killing a young white woman, Heather Heyer, in a standoff over monuments to the Confederacy . . . 

I could go on and on with more examples from Caste and from myriad news reports. And my brown kids could also share what has been said to them, yelled at them, and done to them over the past four years, but those stories are theirs to tell. It’s never been easy to live in their skin.  But the past four years have been increasingly dangerous.

Maybe you don’t take me seriously. But I share this with humility and not a little fear:

A vote for one candidate on the ballot again this year is a vote against the safety of my own family.

Yes, I care about your families too.  Yes, I care about my neighbors.  But when it’s possible that my own kids are at risk of physical harm, my heart pounds like the mothers of brown and black children throughout our nation’s history. My fears are minimal compared to theirs.  My worries shrink in comparison.

You might say that this candidate for President did not hold the sword or the knife or the gun that committed those crimes. You might say that his hands were not on the wheel of that car in Charlottesville. But the truth is that extremists have been given permission to dehumanize people because this candidate publically dehumanizes people. It’s on tape. He says dehumanizing things about God’s children out loud with a microphone on a regular basis.

You might say that all the haters I’ve mentioned are the exceptions, the bad apples, all mentally ill individuals.  But they’ve been emboldened.

I would hope that we vote based on what’s healthy for our nation as a sovereign country and as a global leader.  I would hope that any candidate who professes belief in Jesus Christ would look to Jesus to inform decision-making and personal behavior.

But if those hopes fall flat, maybe you will vote for the protection of my family and all families whose children are not white and for our daughters who are objectified. We can work out political differences together.  But we can’t stop the hate until we vote against hate.

Thanks for listening.  I’m kind of desperate.

Image of the White Supremacist who killed two men on a commuter train who were defending two young women.  In one of the videos, he yells “f*** all you n*****s”

I once knew a pastor who had a side job as a public school bus driver – unbeknownst to the congregation he served.  One of the elders from his church was sitting at an intersection waiting for the red light to change, when she glanced at the bus to her left and saw that the driver was her pastor.  That’s why he was never available for early morning or afternoon meetings.  That’s why he complained about having to work Holy Week or around Christmastime.  We also learned later that he’d been renting out his own study at the church building to another pastor and keeping the rent money.

This is not what I’m talking about when I refer to pastors with side hustles.

A financial mentor HH and I are reading believes that every person needs three streams of income.  Whether you are a teacher or a barber or a pastor, she suggests three streams of income for all.

For pastors, this is called Tentmaking and it usually refers to pastors whose churches do not or cannot pay the pastor a living wage.  The Apostle Paul was literally a tentmaker on the side, and I’ve known part-time preachers who also work as web designers, therapists, jewelry makers, and bakers.  Usually these additional jobs are known to the congregations served by those pastors (unlike the bus driver-pastor.)

I once made a comment about getting a second job when I was serving as a pastor, paid the minimum salary and having a hard time covering our family expenses.  The parishioner was clearly horrified:

“Why would you do that?  It would bring embarrassment to our church because people would think we don’t pay you enough.  And besides you already work for us 24-7.“

Seriously, that’s what she said.

So, what about “appropriate” side hustles?  Having three streams of income could mean that two adults both have salaries and you also have investments.  Or you could have a single income but on the side you sell stuff on eBay and do calligraphy for weddings.  Or maybe you get paid well but you rent out your guest room via AirBNB and you make face masks at home to sell on Etsy for “vacation money.”

Pastors do a lot of things for free:

• Weddings and funerals for friends and even strangers (even though people should offer an honorarium.)
• Preach for churches that can’t afford a pastor (although – again – they should be paid for their services plus mileage.)
• Write articles for journals.
• Speak at conferences.
• Lead workshops.

My new financial mentor friend says that we should never offer our expertise for free, even for church leaders.  Pastors tend to be generous with our time and we often perceive that faith organizations cannot afford to pay us.  We didn’t choose professional ministry for the money.

And yet . . .

Everyone reading this post has something valuable to offer.  Intellectual property. Time. Creative ideas. Tangible artistry.

We’ve been saying this for a long time in Church World, but side hustles are going to become more and more essential as fewer and fewer congregations can afford full time pastoral leadership.  I like thinking of side hustles as a creative outlet rather than a burdensome requirement for supporting ourselves and our families.

So, I ask you faithful readers:

• If you have a full-time pastor, how would you feel about your pastor earning extra income on the side?
• If you are a professional pastor, have you ever picked up extra work either because you wanted to or you had to?

Please share.

Image of retired Presbyterian pastor Grant Gillard who – even while serving congregations – raised bees.  He continues to sell honey in his retirement.

Law enforcement personnel have stressful jobs.  For the sake of this post, I’ll include sheriffs, highway patrol officers, and police officers as “local law enforcement.”

In light of the tumultuous issues surrounding law enforcement these days, Anti-Racism Training opportunities are everywhere.  (Please tell me you are taking advantage of them: the podcasts, books, panel discussions, training, etc.) Yesterday, one of those opportunities was a webinar sponsored by Massanetta Springs Conference Center called Racism, Law Enforcement, and the Church featuring Alonzo Johnson, Byron Wade, and Denise Anderson.  Part Two happens today.  And thanks to Mary Newbern-Williams for moderating the program.

One of the questions asked was: What is the Mission of Police?

• To protect and serve?
• To control crowds?
• To rescue people?
• To arrest people?
• To teach community safety?
• To resolve domestic conflicts?
• To break up fights?
• To check out neighborhood “annoyances”?
• To guard schools?
• To find bad guys?
• To inspect people in their cars or on the streets?
• To address mental health issues?

And a second question is: What role does the Church have in partnering with law enforcement?

There are congregations who’ve invited police officers to come help them ramp up their security measures in light of church shootings and this is not what I’m talking about.

I’m talking about partnering with law enforcement in regards to mission and ministry.  For many years, I’ve advised church leaders to contact their local law enforcement leaders and meet for coffee, and then ask the officers: “What do you do all day?”

Churches: we might be surprised to find out how law enforcement officers spend their days.  Are most of their calls regarding domestic violence? Drug addiction? Runaway kids?  These specifics are important for local churches to know because they can work with the police to provide support for neighbors in need like:

• Provide shelter for victims of trafficking and domestic abuse.
• Provide needle collection sites for the disposal of needles.
• Provide space for teaching harm reduction.
• Provide support for the families of both crime victims and perpetrators.

Imagine the community that could be built if relationships between law enforcement and houses of faith were stronger.  In rural communities and suburbs and inner cities, personal relationships and partnerships could also improve violence rates where we live.

Law enforcement has some tragic history in the United States when we consider the early slave patrols.  But it doesn’t have to be this way.  The 21st Century Church must be familiar with their neighbors in law enforcement for the sake of expanding the reign of God.

I wrote yesterday about pastors in different generations:  The Greatest, The Silent Generation, The Boomers, Gen X, The Millennials, and the Zs.  There was controversy, especially because I, myself, confused the generations in my post.  I first wrote “Millennials” when I meant to write “Gen X.”

Frustration ensued and rightly so.

I, too, have found that Generation X is often passed over when Pastor Nominating Committees are seeking new leadership.  A Boomer Pastor retires at 70 and the congregation subsequently calls a 35 year old to be the new Head of Staff.  I received quite a few private messages about my contributions to the dismissing of Generation X and they were right.

My #1 concern as a church person is that congregations find pastors who will lead them in such a way that they will thrive in the 21st Century.  Such pastors can be found in every generation.  They are:

• Entrepreneurial
• Authentic
• Deeply faithful
• Emotionally intelligent
• Unafraid of failure
• Missional

For what it’s worth, here are some facts about my own denomination – the Presbyterian Church USA:

1. Of the nine largest congregations in my denomination, 8 of them are led by Gen X Pastors and only one is led by a Boomer.  At least in 8 of those largest of the large congregations, their senior leaders are between the ages of 41 and 56.
2. Of those nine largest congregations, only one of those Heads of Staff is a woman.  Not one is a Person of Color or a person who identifies as LGBTQA+ or a person who is differently abled – as far as I know.
3. Median congregational membership in the PCUSA is 70 people as of 12-31-19 according to PCUSA Research Services.  Many congregations cannot call full time pastors of any age.

Here’s what I wonder:  Are people called or not called to serve churches for reasons beyond generational?  Black, Indigenous, and other People of Color have a very hard time in the call process.  This is also true for LGBTQA+ pastors. (God bless the Black Queer Clergy.)  As a mid-council leader, I have literally heard Pastor Nominating Committees say that their churches “are not ready” for a gay pastor or a brown pastor.  It’s not always about age.

I would like to hear your personal stories, particularly about your own age or your own generation. I suspect there is anxiety and frustration all around among Boomer, Gen X, and Millennial Pastors.

A few stories that inform the generational issues for me:

• A seasoned pastor asked me a couple years ago how he could engage the neighborhood around his church building and I suggested books, films, podcasts, mentors, blogs, and retreat leaders.  And he responded by saying that he was only looking for “a brochure or something at his age.” (He is a youngish Boomer.) He said he didn’t have the energy “at this point” to delve into it.  And he probably will not retire anytime soon.  (This kind of thing makes me want to yell, “Get behind me, Satan.”)
• Another seasoned pastor told me that he feels written off for being “another old white guy.”  He is in his mid-60s and still feels the energy and imagination to serve for a while longer.  The fruits of his ministry continue to tell me that he’s right.
• A pastor in her late fifties told me that she got a phone call from a church looking for a speaker for their officer’s retreat.  She thought they were about to ask her to be the speaker when the caller said, “We were wondering if you could suggest a younger clergywoman to keynote our retreat.” Ouch.
• I have a collegue who’s a 30-something rock star and she was called to be the pastor of a medium-sized congregation because they’d hoped she could “bring in the young families.”  And she’s wonderful. But she is not taken seriously by the older generation in the church and it sabotages her ability to do what they’ve called her to do.
• I have a Gen X friend who was called to serve a large congregation when she was in her early 40s.  Her predecessor stayed for 30 years and it’s expected that she will stay that long as well.  I asked her once if she thought she would actually do that, and she said, “I think I’ll have to whether I want to or not.  Who would call me as a 50-something or 60-something pastor.”

All in all, I’m finding that there are excellent and not-so-excellent pastors in every generation.  But – again – I would appreciate hearing your stories if you want to share.

And thanks for forgiving me my brain blip yesterday.

Who will be the last Baby Boomer Pastor?

Currently, there are six human generations alive:

• “The Greatest Generation” – Born in 1924 or earlier.
• “The Silent Generation” – Born between 1925 and 1945
• “The Boomers” – Born between 1946 and 1964
• “Generation X” – Born between 1965 and 1979
• “Millennials” – Born between 1980 and 1996
• “Generation Z” – Born between 1997 and today*

*These dates vary a little depending on sources.

As you can see from the graph above, there are quite a few Baby Boomers alive today and – within my denomination and many denominations – there is a wave of Boomer Pastors who will be retiring in the next decade.  The youngest Boomers will turn 70 in 2034 and – God willing they will be retiring at that time if not earlier.

In 2064, the youngest Boomers will turn 100.  It’s not that far away.

On the earth on this day, there is someone alive who will be the last living Baby Boomer Pastor.  This is amazing and wonderful to consider. (Also, I hope it’s not me.)

I am a Baby Boomer and – at the same time – I am often frustrated by my own generation.  While there are creative, energetic, hopeful, entrepreneurial leaders in their late fifties and sixties, there are also leaders in this age group who are tired and ready to retire.  And yet those weary pastors do not plan to retire until they are 70 for many reasons.

I believe that every Boomer Pastor should have a trusted colleague or friend who can tell us when it’s time to step aside and make way for a Generation X Pastor**- or someone even younger.

My dream is that The Last Boomer Pastor to retire will be a kick-@$*, door-opening, permission-giving, Jesus-loving, expectation shattering human being who will joyfully look at the generations coming after and be overwhelmed with gratitude and hope.  We who are blessed to be part of this generation need to begin preparing our congregations now for the changes ahead.

Image source.

** My deepest apologies to Generation X Pastors. I meant to write your generation here (before I corrected it from saying Millennial.) It obviously shows my own unconscious bias. Please forgive me for this brain blip.

I’m choosing not to watch either the Democratic or the Republican Conventions.  I love political conversations and political ideas.  I loved living in Our Nation’s Capital for a couple decades and being close to the action.

But I just can’t do it.  I wish everyone could just take a breath.

This coming election is so important. And yet –

I’m tired of political ads that are half true – or totally untrue.  I’m tired of people repeating lies in hopes that if they repeat the lies long enough, they will become the narrative.  I’m tired of smugness and snarkitude.  I’m tired of the focus being on winning and losing elections, while ignoring who is winning and losing in life because of unfair government policies.

I’m tired of good people voting against their own interests (i.e. people voting for candidates who don’t promote clean air and water while their own air and water is making them sick.)

I’m tired of watching good people voting against their own religious beliefs (i.e. people voting for candidates who mistreat immigrants while reading a Bible that says so many things about how we are supposed to treat “aliens.”)

So, here’s what I’m wondering: could we all take a deep breath?  Could we also:

• Assume that those who suggest that they “heard” something might be true or it’s “possible” that something is true (i.e. Kamala Harris might not be a U.S. citizen because of something they “heard” about the “possibility” that she might be eligible to be vice president) are simply planting seeds of misinformation.
• Assume that ridiculous accusations against political enemies (i.e. Thom Tillis doesn’t believe that restaurant workers should have to wash their hands) are probably not true and/or words were taken out of context.
• Assume that insane accustations against political enemies (i.e. Joe Biden is involved in child trafficking) are in fact insane.

Is this who we’ve become?  Someone says that “it’s possible” or “they’ve heard” that Candidate A is engaged in child sacrifice or Candidate B is running a drug ring in Mexico – and we go with it because we didn’t like that candidate anyway?

Is it ever okay to place a target on any candidate’s face?

Is it ever okay even to joke about seeking help from foreign governments to win an election?  (Actually, I think this is illegal – for any political party.)

Can we try to be smart, thoughtful voters?  It’s not only good for our emotional well-being, but it’s also good for our country, our democracy, and our humanity.

Special note to Christian readers: Clearly all candidates fall short of the glory of God.  But we can do better in both nominating and electing individuals whose character and principles inspire rather than divide.

Election Day is 11 weeks from today.  Can we re-boot our attitudes and try to be the people the Constitution says we are?  I suggest we breathe deeply and pray for every kind of peace. And vote.

Image of retired Bishop Desmond Tutu of Cape Town, South Africa.

I have the best job in the world because every day in God’s creation, I get to address the good, the bad and the ugly.  I tend to learn more from the bad and the ugly (i.e. what not to do) so that’s a blessing too.

Here you go for a quick list on a beautiful Monday morning.

Excellent and Healthy Times to Say No in Your Church:

1. You are the former pastor and someone asks you to officiate at their wedding, funeral or child’s baptism.  The answer is no.  Saying yes sabotages the current pastor’s authority and ability to form close relationships with the congregation.
2. You are a church leader who really wants the former pastor to officiate at your wedding, funeral or child’s baptism.  The answer is no.  Yes, you love that former pastor, but you are stealing the new pastor’s ability to be your spiritual leader and – in the long run – your congregation will suffer, especially if this becomes a habit with the former pastor.
3. You learn about misconduct involving abuse of power of any kind: sexual, financial, physical, emotional and you are asked to keep it a secret.  The answer is no.  Depending on the situation, contact the pastor, the board of elders, the denominational leader or the police.  Note: It must be reported but confidentiality must be kept in terms of the name of the victim, if that’s the wish of the victim.
4. There is a leader (or several of them) who have been in power for years and they want to solidify their power by tapping their own spouses, siblings, or children to serve next.  Nope. The church belongs to no particular family or clique, no matter how many generations are in the cemetery.  Yes, those leaders love their church to the point of feeling like it belongs to them.  And they could be inadvertently killing the church they love by not letting go.
5. A generous person offers to pay for the new HVAC system, the new roof, the youth trip to Mexico, or the gap in the budget, assuming this will result in more institutional power.  (“We owe that family so much!“)  The answer is no (unless the gift is absolutely unconditional with no expectations in return.) Jesus talks about this kind of thing in terms of making it about us and our power.  Financial generosity doesn’t equal more power or more faithfulness than the ones who give “the widow’s mite.“

Excellent and Healthy Times to Say Yes in Your Church:

1. There are new neighbors who don’t look like most of the people in your pews.  They might even offend you in some way, but there are people who want to reach out to them and make them feel included.  The answer is yes.  We need to get over ourselves and our biases, read the New Testament, and note how many offensive people Jesus invited into God’s flock.
2. Someone volunteers who has never volunteered before, possibly because “Mrs. D always does it.”  The answer is yes – I hope because Mrs. D. herself invites that person to lead.  (And Mrs. D. offers to help if needed.  And Mrs. D. doesn’t complain if the new volunteers does it differently.  And #3 in Yes List.)
3. The church tries something new even if it might fail.  The answer is yes.  Try it for 3 months.  Try it for this season.  Try it for a year. Try it, assuming it just might work.  Try it while praying that it transforms something for good.
4. A group of members have a vision for a Big Scary Dream that will show God’s love in a new way.  The answer is yes.  Let them present it to the other leaders.  Give them permission to explore it further.  Back them up.  You could be looking at the next computer training facility, neighborhood food program, or community homeless shelter.  (These Big Scary Dreams came true and have transformed thousands of lives.)
5. During the pandemic and social distancing, members have  completely new ideas for ministry (for now and maybe for many years to come.)  The answer is yes.  Here are some I’ve seen recently:  A blessing of students’ technology instead of a blessing of the backpacks.  (The Grove Church in Charlotte did this during worship August 16)  Supporting a Tent City of neighbors who’ve been evicted from their apartments. (Henderson Grove Church in Mint Hill, NC is partnering with other congregations to provide provisions for those who’ve lost their homes.)

A healthy church knows when to say yes and when to say no.  It’s about faithfulness, good boundaries and shared power.  COVID-19 has given us the perfect opportunity to be the church in fresh ways.

Heads up:  I’m already pondering faithful ways we can be the Church during a socially distanced Advent and Christmas.  It could be glorious.

I spend my free time these days checking out places I want to visit once this pandemic is over.  I have Air BNB files for possible places to stay everywhere from rural Virginia to Italy.  And yesterday, I found a wonderful part of the country that looked like a place I might even want to live one day.

Gorgeous vistas. Nearby wineries.  Hardwoods and rivers.  Yes, please.

And then I clicked on a farm that looked like a wonderful place to visit for a hiking weekend . . . until I saw the words Christian Retreat Center.  I literally said, “Ew” out loud.

As I’ve written before “Christian” is troublesome adjective.  It’s a great noun, but it’s a problematic adjective.  When I was a pastor in Virginia, we received a Christian Yellow Pages in the mail filled with the names and numbers of Christian Beauty Salons and Christian Restaurants and Christian Auto Mechanics.

Ew.

I claim Jesus as my Lord and Savior.  I have spent my life trying to encourage myself and others to fulfill what the Bible says about expanding the reign of God.  But the adjective “Christian” is fraught with all sorts of issues.  I can only imagine what that adjective sparks for people of other faiths or no faith.

It could mean “not Jewish or Muslim” as in “we don’t want to give such people our business.”

It could mean anti LGBTQAI+.  My assumption is that this is not a place that will bake my gay wedding cake should I ever need one.

It could mean white nationalist.

It could mean “we are going to proselytize you”  to make sure I am the right kind of believer.

Guthrie Graves-Fitzsimmons regularly writes about how “Christian” typically means white evangelical homophobic politically conservative person according to the media, even though there are many Christians who are none of those things.  (Heads up: Guthrie’s book Just Faith: Reclaiming Progreesive Christianity can be pre-ordered here.)

Even as a Christian myself, I feel exhausted when I meet someone who assumes that being Christian means what they think it means: gun-loving, immigrant-hating, flag-waving judgey person.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m as judgey as the next person (which is why I blurted out “Ew” upon discovering a Christian retreat center out in the woods.)  I can put people in a box as quickly as anyone.  But I’m really trying not to do this to the point that has become one of my daily spiritual goals.

In these days of political divisions, the best answer to “Are you conservative or liberal in your politics?” seems to be: “It depends.”  The Bible is an equal opportunity offender in terms of politics.

I probably agree with the owners of that Christian Retreat Center more than I disagree with them on issues of theology and politics.  Or maybe not.  But we need to connect with each other – Believers and Non-Believers of all kinds – if we hope to be the world as God created it to be.

Following Jesus = loving people even when we disagree with them, and even if they are our theological, cultural, political “enemies.”  This is what Jesus teaches.

But – Christian siblings out there – we need to acknowledge that for many people in the world (including some of us) the word “Christian” has been hijacked to mean something that Jesus would find unrecognizable.  It’s up to us to show the world what the love of God looks like in the name of Jesus.

How are we doing with that?  Do people think “ew” when they see us coming?  Or – what’s perhaps worse – do people not recognize that we are indeed followers of Jesus because there’s no evidence of God’s love in the way we live?

Image of the 2015 Christian Phone Book as published and sold by these folks.

We are at the point in this pandemic adventure when “check-ins” abound.  Those of us who work with multiple congregations ask each other the same questions:

• How are your churches doing these days?
• How are they doing worship?
• How are things financially?
• How is their missional impact?

And in all those conversations, I also hear the same answers:

• The churches that were thriving pre-pandemic are still thriving.
• The churches that were dying pre-pandemic are still dying.

Yep.  Congregations that were already entrepreneurial, tech-savvy, and missional before March 15, 2020 continue to be so post March 15, 2020.  And those slow to adapt in general (Why do we need online giving?) continue to struggle.

I want to say, “I told you so” to those churches more interested in their history than their future, but actually, I wish I were wrong.  I wish the historic congregations, the inwardly-focussed congregations, the “we love our cemetery more than Jesus” congregations had a Holy Ghost Moment the second it looked like our normal was about to change forever.  I wish those congregations felt a jolt from the Lord that moved them to reach out and reach up.

But the creative churches have become more creative and the anxious churches have become more anxious.  This is a generalization, of course.  And it’s not too late.

Look at what’s happening in your congregation and ask: Are we energized for what’s possible that wasn’t possible before? Are we reaching new people who couldn’t worship with us or connect with us before?

Or are you consumed with worry that “we’ll never get back to the way it was.”

Again, it’s not to late to make some shifts.  What is God inspiring your church to do and be that you couldn’t do and be before?  There are church leaders out there so ready to shepherd you into a new way of being and doing Church.  Connect with them before the end of the week.

Image of the Sunflower Fields at Forks of the River Wildlife Management Area in Knoxville, Tennessee.