A Church for Starving Artists

I know where to get books about lynching: library, online, book store.  But where  – and when – do we read them?

Before I go to sleep at night, I’ve been reading Troubled Ground: A Tale of Murder, Lynching, and Reckoning  by Claude A. Clegg III which is probably not the choice of Sleep Specialists.  It’s about a triple lynching in Rowan County, NC where my mother was born and my father grew up.  Between 31,000 and 37,000 people lived in Rowan County in 1906 – the year of the lynching and this account states that about 2000 witnessed the lynching of Nease Gillespie (age 55), his son John Gillespie (age 14, 15, or 16) and Jack Dillingham (in his late 20s or early 30s) for the murder of Isaac Lyerly (age 68), Augusta Barringer Lyerly (age 42), John H. Lyerly (age 8), and Alice Lyerly (age 6.)

The three black men may or may not have had anything to do with the murders.  They never confessed to the crime, even in the terrifying moments before they died, according to witnesses.  But on the night of August 5, 1906, they were arrested, removed from the Salisbury, NC jail without trial, hanged, tortured, cut, and shot in front of a crowd of about 2000 onlookers.  Many witnesses took home souvenirs of flesh.

My grandfather was 11 years Old at the time and it’s possible that he or members of his family witnessed that horror – or that he and family members visited the site of the lynching in the days to follow.  People did this.

So when do we – white people – educate ourselves about the realities of white privilege in our nation’s history by reading books about such horrors?  By the pool this summer?  Out on a patio sipping adult beverages?  Before we hit the pillow at night?

Students – I hope –  are assigned these books in class.  But what about those of us who are long past formal schooling?

There are book groups, of course.  There are lectures by the authors.  But my greatest hope is that we also read books that make us uncomfortable in Church.  (Note:  yes we should be reading the Bible too and if the Bible doesn’t make us uncomfortable then we aren’t reading very closely.)

While lots of young and old Presbyterians from Charlotte have been touring Birmingham and Montgomery and Memphis this week, we need to make our own pilgrimages of pain to those places.  I know I’m headed to Salisbury soon to a place once called Henderson Park, about a quarter mile south of the intersection of N. Long Street and Bringle Ferry Road.

Where will you be reading books about lynching?  And where will you be traveling to learn more about a particularly evil part of our history?

Dr. Claude A. Clegg III is Lyle V. Jones Distinguished Professor in African, African American, and Diaspora Studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.  Salisbury, NC is his hometown.

One of my Mom Fears is that someone will think my children were raised by wolves.  Believe me when I tell you that HH and I taught each of them how to change their sheets, do a load of laundry, and clean a bath tub.  That doesn’t mean it will happen but they know how to do it.

Living in community means being a good neighbor. And I’m not even talking about “communal living” when everybody shares a kitchen and a car.  I’m talking about picking up after ourselves.  I’m talking about holding the door open for people.  I’m talking about not watching Scream at midnight at full volume when the walls are thin.  I’m talking about appreciating each other – whether that means sending Thank You Notes or Thank You Texts.

Because our nation is so divided and so cranky, sometimes it feels like each of us was raised by wolves – which is actually unfair to wolves who are reportedly excellent parents.

It’s disturbing when people are rude – much less cruel – and this is a good day to treat each other as we would like to be treated.  Every religion holds up their own version of this Golden Rule.  We were not created to be insulting or crude or abusive towards each other.  We were born to show love.

And  so – for the love of God – please don’t let your pet eliminate waste in the stairwell. (This is a real sign from one of the stairwells in my apartment building.)

Be kind out there.

Ugh.  Growth hurts.

Preteens literally feel pain in their bones during adolescence.  Hot messes (count me in) feel pain when we realize exactly how hot of a mess we are.  And institutions endure deep pain upon realizing that they can no longer thrive without without re-examining the reason they exist.

We learn so much through pain, but few of us choose the painful route.

In churches, it’s just easier . . .

• To keep the long term administrative assistant even though she’s kind of a gossip and won’t learn Excel.
• To keep the long term music director even though he doesn’t play well with others.
• To keep the ineffective pastor because she’s only 8 years from retirement.
• To keep half a million dollars in the Cemetery Fund when we need those funds for mission because we don’t want to confront the gentlemen who controls the Cemetery Fund.

And so we languish in our current state of being and there is little spark in our lives (or in our institutions.)  There is hope and light ahead – but only if we wade through some painful realizations.  I’m not going to suggest what they are, but I will say that they are usually obvious to everyone but ourselves.

Trust is required for such moments as these:

• Do we trust the colleagues and friends who tell us the difficult news that we need to tweak (or overhaul) our lives?
• Do we trust our spiritual leaders who tell us that the church of our childhood will never come back?
• Do we trust that God has got this?  AND that God expects us to participate?

I have a fantasy that goes like this: I visit a congregation and they tell me all the wonderful things God is doing among them.  And then they ask me what they could do to expand their ministry and spiritual growth.  And then they actually choose to do those things – prayerfully of course.  And then their ministry and spiritual maturity is expanded!  And then they say, “That was really hard, but God was with us and it was totally worth it.”

Image of the 20th President of the United States.

Not news:

• Many of our congregations are struggling with diminishing numbers and energy levels.
• Many of our pastors have no idea how to lead a congregation in a 21st Century culture.
• Many congregations say they want to call a pastor who will help them grow.

So what do we do with this situation:  A congregation takes the bold step to call a forward-thinking pastor who does know how to lead a church in 21st Century ministry.  Maybe the pastor is from another part of the country or from another generation or from another culture.  And everybody is fired up!  And things are going to change!  And things do change!

And now they want to fire the pastor.

When we talked about growing, we didn’t mean with those people.

When we got a younger pastor, we assumed he would listen to his elders.

When she said she wanted to reach out into the community, we thought she was talking about doing that from her office.  Now she’s rarely in the office at all.

Pastoral Leaders must first and foremost love their people – because they are God’s people.  The ones on our search committees whom we met first might be easy to love because they interviewed and they “get” us.

But we’ve also got to love the ones who are cranky and cynical and don’t like the way we wear our hair.  We’ve got to love the ones who still adore their previous pastor and openly compare us to him/her.  We’ve got to love the ones who don’t respect us.  We’ve got to love even the haters.

Loving the haters is no joke.  But we can’t lead God’s people if we don’t love them. If we can’t love them, we might as well hit the road.

So pastors: love your people. And church people: let your pastor lead.  It’s said that Jesus was killed by his own congregation because he wanted them to change in ways they resented.  There are too many churches who have killed their leaders’ enthusiasm, if not their souls.  Please don’t do that.

Image of Ray Charles.

Although my mother wouldn’t have disclosed this information in a million years, my dad often told me that:

1. I was conceived in Tombstone, AZ (where my parents lived at the time)
2. And they only had 5 cents the day they learned they were expecting me.

(Yes I’ve mentioned this to my therapist.)

Although I’ve never been to Arizona except in utero, I look forward to visiting sometime.  (FYI: The White Privilege Conference is in Mesa, AZ April 1-4, 2020.)

Some of my uncles blamed Fort Huachuca’s nuclear testing activities for my parents’ early deaths – each from cancer.  Mom often told me that she could see mushroom clouds from her office window.  She work on post for one of the generals.

After reading this article in The New Yorker about Tombstone, I wonder if – even in utero – geography shaped me.

• Once it was true that Fort Huachuca/Tombstone was settled to guard the Mexican border against Apache Indians.  (Fun fact: The Apache were indigenous to the area from which they were being blocked.)
• Once it was true that Tombstone was the home of Doc Holliday and the Earp Brothers: Virgil, Morgan, and Wyatt who protected the locals from bad cowboys.
• Now it is true that a group called Arizona Border Recon is taking the law into their own hands and “protecting the border.” Today their enemies are “illegal immigrants” rather than “savage Indians.”  Today there are still bad cowboys only now they consider themselves to be patriots.

And now – because the mines are long gone – Tombstone survives by reenacting gunfights between good and evil.  The shoot-outs performed by actors bring tourists.  Tombstone – like many places – has had to transform itself.  (Sound familiar?)

This statement from The New Yorker article is striking:

Frontier towns . . .  had to choose between extinction and transforming themselves into caricatures of their glory days for public consumption.  

I tend to think that there’s a third choice, but more about that later.

Some wonder if the Church as we’ve known it is destined to become extinct.  Or have we transformed into caricatures of our glory days?

Extinction of “the way Church was” or “the way we imagined Church was” is already happening.  But this is not bad news.

I started my fetal life in a place that calls itself “The Town Too Tough to Die” and I now live in a world where lots of institutions are dying and we have choices to make:

• We can hang on for as long as possible unconcerned with our legacy and our higher purpose until there’s no more money to pay the light bill.
• We can exhaust ourselves trying to reenact what Church once was: wringing our hands in hopes of returning to huge Vacation Bible School weeks, Women’s Groups that every woman wants to join, preaching without politics, and well-behaved children.
• We can choose to allow old ways of being the Church to die so that God would connect us in new ways in a 21st Century Culture.

I hope to visit Tombstone one day to imagine what it was like for my parents and to ponder further what it’s like to be a town that’s died in some ways, although even their motto says that they can’t.

We who love the Church know that the Church won’t die (because: Jesus) and yet the way we’ve been the Church most certainly has and will.  To God be the Glory.  Things are changing and resurrection is our future.

Image is a 60+ year old postcard from Tombstone, Arizona – The Town Too Tough to Die.  My parents found both history and romance there.

Dear Retired Colleagues,

Thank you for your wisdom and professional ministry over the past decades.  I’m grateful for the time you loved God’s people in the particular congregations you served.

Although I’ve shared thoughts with you over the years, there’s something I need you to hear with an open mind.  Yes, some of you have excellent relationships with those clergy who serve your former congregations.  This is so good.  What you need to know that for every one of you who perceives your relationship with the current pastor of your former church to be excellent, there is at least one (if not ten) pastors currently serving other congregations as either the transitional or installed leader of your former congregation who wishes you would step back.  This is hard to hear and perhaps harder to believe.  I wish I could tell you I’m exaggerating.

Maybe it’s easier if you’ve moved to another town or another state.  And even then, it’s hard not to keep in touch with so many friends.  After serving a church for over 20 years, I moved half way across the country and still was asked to officiate at weddings and funerals.  They were willing to “fly me back.”  But I needed to say no.

The reason to say “no” the very first time you are asked to “come back” is this:

If you say “yes” to one family (or to six), you either have to come back for all of them OR you clearly show favoritism. 

And the hurt is real, my retired friends.

When you say “yes” during the Interim Time (whether you or another pastor recently left), it’s just like saying “yes” after the next Installed Pastor arrives.  I know you do not intend harm, but your are making it difficult (whether he/she/they admit it or not) for the other pastors who lead that congregation.

I get it:  you miss your friends.  You miss the pastoral calls and the holy moments.  You miss being the Biblical scholar.  You miss the identity.  But please believe me when I say that your continued presence, much less your continued leadership will one day be an event that the congregation will look back on as something that kept them from moving forward.

(This is the moment when some of you are thinking, “But they want me to come back.  Even the new pastor wants me to come back.”)  To quote Nancy Reagan: just say no.  Re-read the second paragraph if necessary.

The purpose of this post is to give you a way out.  Let’s say that you’ve agreed to do some weddings/funerals for former parishioners.  Maybe you did one.  And maybe you did half a dozen.  I’m inviting you to send a letter to the leaders of your former church saying this:

Dear (Name of Congregation here,)

I made a mistake.  In my love for your congregation, and so many of you individually, I thought it would be pastorally meaningful to accept your invitations to officiate at your family events.  But I was wrong.  It has only put me in the position of hurting others – including those who might want me to officiate at future events.  But – for the sake of your congregation’s health and in hopes of a thriving future for this church – I will no longer agree to officiate at any of your events, either within or outside the walls of the church building.  I made a mistake before.  Please understand that this is the most loving thing I can do for (Name of Congregation here.)

Yours In Christ’s Service,

Joe/Tammy/Bruce/Phyllis/Don/Warren/Dorothy/Whoever you are

Here’s another way to live into retirement:  if you long to lead Bible studies, preach, offer pastoral care/go on mission trips, we can find you another congregation in which to do this who would be thrilled to have your leadership!  Let somebody in your denomination know.

The #1 issue I hear at Boundary Training is about retired/former pastors continuing to show up and not-so-secretly continue to be involved.  Please know that you are loved.  Thank you for years of loving service.  But this congregation you love deserves a fresh start in order to be a 21st Century Church.  Please let them go.

Yours In Christ’s Service,

Jan

A couple weeks ago, HH and I were eating fish tacos in our Charlotte neighborhood. We were talking about the upcoming Opioid Training Breakfast we would be attending the next day.  (Note:  Nothing says Romantic Date like the words “opioid training breakfast.”)

Church happens here.

Our server – Leigh* – asked what we were talking about and we told her and she said that she knew something about opioid abuse and would we report back on what we learned.  And I said, “Of course.”

Last night I went back for more fish tacos and to let Leigh know what I learned.

Me: (entering the restaurant and seeing Leigh)  Hi Leigh!  How are you?

Leigh:  Good but busy.  (She was balancing multiple plates of tacos in her arms.)

Julie:  Hi.  Where would you like to sit?

Me: Anywhere.  I’m by myself so maybe this little booth.  

Julie:  I’ll bring water.

When things calmed down for Leigh, she came and sat down at my booth.  Julie soon joined us and Leigh said, “This is Jan and she just went to an opioids thing she’s telling me about.”

Julie:  Hi.  I’m Julie.  I know something about opioids too.  I used to be a nurse but I went a little crazy in the pharmacy.  That was a while ago.

Eventually the bartender also came over and all of us were talking about what the community needs for people who deal with opioid and other substance abuse.  We compared experiences and rehab clinics we knew about and – bonus – I learned about the 19 Crimes Wine phone app that turns wine labels into history lessons.  (Please drink wine and other adult beverages responsibly.)

And it occurs to me that this – what I experienced over fish tacos last night – is The Living Church.  I will be praying that Julie has a healthy happy baby sometime this summer.  Leigh and I will continue to connect about opioids.  The bartender will continue to welcome people at his restaurant.  We have chosen to be a little community over there.

Here’s what nobody outside the Church cares about:

• Whether or not the pastor wears a robe.
• Whether or not the front door needs new paint.
• Whether or not the church building is on an historic register.
• Whether or not there are screens in the sanctuary.

The Living Church cares if the sick are healed and the lonely find community and the imprisoned are visited and the hungry find nourishment and the homeless find shelter.  The Living Church sees you and knows your name.

You can even be an introvert and be part of The Living Church.

Also, here’s info about the 19 Crimes app.

*Names have been changed – except for my own.

Image of my favorite fish taco place.

Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. 
Acts 2:17b

For the record, young women also see visions, old women dream dreams, and gender fluid folks see visions and dream dreams as well.

At the risk of sounding Pentecostal, I have both seen visions and – on three different occasions in my adult life – strangers have seen visions about me (and taken steps to find me and fill me in.) I have shared this information with my therapist for a psychotic behavior check and she says I’m okay.

I tend to keep these stories to myself.  I shared one of my stories in a sermon and was ridiculed by a colleague so I learned to talk about my supernatural experiences sparingly.

Yesterday I wrote about churches who might have reached the point of no return in terms of a thriving future ministry.  Death – including Church Death – is part of our tradition and theology, so death doesn’t scare me.  We also believe in resurrection from death.  And we believe in visions and dreams.

Thriving leaders and congregations see things that most others cannot see.  We see potential.  We see miracles.  We see a future where others see only the past.  We see things.  Hope is our super power.

It’s not a false hope and it’s not a cartoon hope.  We see something real and while it might be fuzzy around the edges, we are clear about one thing: it’s about what God can do.

Who are the visionaries in your midst?  Who are the prophets in your spiritual community?  Without them, we are missing out.

Image of Marc Chagall painting the mural in the Metropolitan Opera House in NYC.  (1967)

I got a phone call a couple weeks ago from a sweet lady who told me that her church had decided to close.  They’d been struggling to keep going for some time but the part-time preacher had quit, the part-time musician had quit, a couple elders had quit and she (the caller) was in no shape “at her age” to keep things going.

When does a church reach the point of no return?  When we look at the life cycle of congregations and we know churches that are 100, 200, 300 (yes, there are some of those in the United States), it’s clear that – during that life cycle – those oldest of congregations made a choice that renewed them and moved them into a period of growth again.

Churches grow and slow and some die and some find rebirth.  Again – how do we know when a congregation has reached that point when nothing will bring them back to life – even in a new semblance of life?  Here are some choices that seem to prompt certain death:

1. Leaders choose to keep more money in The Cemetery Fund than in the general fund for ministry and mission.
2. Everyone – and I mean everyone –  has their own pet project/thing they love and they’ve stopped asking “What does God want from our church?”  It’s become what we want and we argue about that.
3. The same people have been serving in the same leadership roles for over 10 years.
4. The surrounding area is brimming with new people, new commercial projects, even new public transportation options and the church is not growing.
5. The congregation does not look like or sound like the neighborhood and there are no efforts to change this.
6. Not one leader in the congregation knows the names of: the principal of the closest school, any of the cashiers at the closest stores/gas stations/diners, the names of the people who live in the house/farm/apartment building closest to the church building.
7. The majority of every meeting of the governing board is spent talking about Attendance, Building, and Cash.
8. Sunday morning worship is the #1 portal through which people participate in the life of the church.
9. Nobody prays out loud or talks about Jesus except for the pastor.
10. The majority of people are fine with changing things as long as it happens after their own funerals.

Sometimes by the time a church contacts me for support, it’s too late – at least in a worldly sense.  They no longer have the capacity to stay alive whether they want to close or not.

At what point has a church reached the point of no recovery?  It depends on the church.

But my hunch is that – in the next five to ten years – most of our small congregations will close. By “small” I mean our congregations with 1 to 25 regular participants whose vision and energy has dried up.

There are congregations with a handful of members who love and serve their neighbors with a lavish faithfulness that makes their ministry quite large.  Those congregations will be fine.  If they die, they will rise again in glory serving their communities in a new way.  It will be beautiful.

The Good News is that Jesus will always have a Church.  It just won’t be the Church we have experienced for the past 500 years.  And – as much as we loved that church –  this too is Good News.