I'm Done Fixing the Church: Turning the Future Over to God
By Billy Doidge Kilgore
Trying to Fix Things
Today, young clergy serving the historic mainline denominations are part of a generation shaped by an anxious church that is looking for quick fixes to address its decline. As members of a younger generation, we see church life from a different angle than our predecessors who served the body of Christ in a more stable and comfortable time. Over and over again, we have listened to the depressing statistics predicting the demise of the mainline church. In many ways, we have been told “the sky is falling.” I don’t pretend to speak for all young adults in the mainline church, but I know that many of us have felt pressure to fix this problem. We have experienced firsthand the concern in the congregations we love and in turn want to do something in response, even if we know we are taking on a challenge that has no easy solutions, if there are any solutions at all.
As ridiculous as it might sound, I took the bait and bought into the idea that I could fix the church and reverse its decline. You can call me naive, inexperienced, foolish, or whatever you like but I believed it was the right thing to do in my mind. After all, I thought this is the least I could do for God’s church. In addition to pleasing God, I believed it would make all the wonderful people in the church who shaped me very proud. Looking back, it is embarrassing to think about how grandiose my thinking was and still is in some ways. After all, who appointed me be to a savior? As a wise colleague recently reminded me, “Jesus already fixed the church. There is no need for you to go to the cross too.”
Misunderstanding Our Role
If you have fallen into the trap of trying to “fix” the church, I don’t write this article to make you feel guilty or to encourage you to beat yourself up. At best, we are all stumbling along on the journey of faith in need of God’s grace. Careful discernment is always necessary in serving the church, especially in times like our own when congregations are under tremendous pressure to find a way forward. The time is ripe for us to confuse our human needs with God’s desires for the church. In addition to confusion over God’s desires, I believe a major reason for our misguided attempts to fix the church is a misunderstanding of our role as clergy.
In an age that encourages and often expects clergy to be religious entrepreneurs boldly paving a way forward for congregations, it is easy to misunderstand our role. As church members turn to us with their concerns about decline, we feel the pressure to “fix” our congregations, which can quickly distort our understanding of ministry. We find ourselves easily distracted by things that do not relate to our pastoral identity.
When I find that I am spending my time and energy in ways that are out of sync with my calling, I find it helpful to dust off my ordination vows and reread them in a quiet place where I can reflect. I am always thankful to be reminded that my vows do not ask me to “fix” the church; rather, they ask me to be faithful to the church. Nowhere in my ordinations vows does it say that I am to bear the burden of saving the church from decline; instead, my vows call me to “give direction to the life of the congregation.” Understanding the difference between “fixing” the church and giving it direction is crucial at a time when clergy are burning out and exiting the ministry at alarming rates. Rereading our ordination vows allows us to set the boundaries we need to free us of the impossible task of “fixing” the church.
Dr. Bruce Epperly writes, “Boundaries reflect your calling and theology of ministry. Our beliefs set our boundaries.” If this is true, then it is worth asking the question, what do your boundaries in ministry say about your understanding of God’s call on your life? Some clergy might find a wide gap between their boundaries in day-to-day practices and what they believe God is calling them to do in their ministries. If so, there is a need to reconcile the two.
Letting Go
To be clear, discerning a pastoral identity that reflects the ministry of Christ is not an excuse to ignore the challenges the church faces in the 21st century. We must respond to them in faithful ways and “give direction to the life of a congregation.” It is important for us to seek God’s vision for our future but not to take things into our own hands and try to control outcomes. I can personally attest to the fact that trying to fix the church is a recipe for misery. It will suck the life out of you and leave you jaded, cynical, and burnt out. Instead of going down this exhausting and frustrating path, there is the opportunity to commit together, clergy and laity, to turning the future of the church over to God. We can let go and trust that the God who has been faithful to the church throughout the ages will make a way forward.
At this time, the congregation I serve is in the beginning stages of crafting a vision plan for the future. Looking at my role in this vision, I find myself discovering more and more there is no place for my feeble attempts to fix the church; rather, God is calling me to be faithful to the role of spiritual leader. Now more than ever, the church needs faithful pastors who are willing to be spiritual guides through the turbulent times we face as the body of Christ. The body of Christ needs clergy who are willing to lead the people to the spiritual resources they need and discern the direction the Spirit of God is leading the church.
This past Sunday, was Reconciliation Sunday within the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). I used the following video to introduce the topic, to visually remind us why we needed to continue to do the hard work of reconciliation, and to engage the text in a new way. Several folks have requested a copy of the sermon (thus, the post here)....but my guess is, it wasn't the sermon that moved them, but the Word of God, the video that brought to light our collective perceptions, and the Holy Spirit.
It was a powerful day of worship...and I give thanks, that I could be part of it, in some small way.
The video:
The scripture that was used:
Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but when we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also.
And the sermon:
For a lot of folks, Reconciliation Sunday brings about a lot of eye rolling and questions as to whether or not talking about race relations is really necessary in this day and age. Most folks don’t mean that in a bad way…it’s just, especially for those who grew up in the 50s and 60s, there’s a sense that we’ve done the “race thing” and we’ve made our reparations. Everything’s equal and right. And even though we know the statistics aren’t perfect…it’s better than it was….and we wonder if maybe we should just let it go. Doesn’t talking about race, discrimination, and reconciliation, just bring up the bad stuff?
Well, yes. Yes to all of it. Yes, it’s better than it was. Yes, we’ve made strides in equality (praise be to God!). And yes, sometimes talking about race and acknowledging discrimination and praying for reconciliation does bring up the bad stuff. Yes. But when we quit talking about it…when we quit acknowledging the continued journey of equality and reconciliation…we rob the story of its fullness.
I shared a video in the Youth Sunday School class this morning, about a woman by the name of Chimamanda Adichie, an African storyteller and author from Nigeria. In the video, she tells of growing up as a child, reading British and American books. An early reader, she devoured these books about blond hair, blue eyed heroines who frolicked in the snow, while eating apples. When she began to write her own stories…at 7 or 8, in pencil, illustrated with crayon drawings…her heroines too, where blond hair, blue eyed, and talking about the weather while eating apples.
It didn’t occur to her, that a heroine in a book, could be anything other than that particular character, because that was the only character she had known…that is, until she was introduced to heroines written by African authors…who (and I quote), “had skin the color of chocolate and kinky, untamable hair that struggled to get into a ponytail…who ate mango, and frolicked in the sun.” It wasn’t until she was introduced to a new story, that she was able to have a fuller picture of who she was, of what literature could include, and how she might be part of that: a fuller, richer, more kingdom-like story.
But even more poignant for me, was her recount of another story. Chimamanda was raised in a typical, middle class family, and as is the norm in middle-class Nigeria, they had a house servant. The only thing her mother ever told her about their “house boy” was that he was poor. So poor, that her mother would send him home on holidays with yams and rice, old clothes and blankets. And Chimamanda could only pity him. Because that’s where the story ended. With abject poverty.
But one day, her family went to deliver some goods to the house boys family and when they were invited in, the house boys mother showed them a beautiful basket – one of the most beautiful she had ever seen – that he had woven. The poor house boy, was an artist. A creator. And she hadn’t known that, because those around her…those in power…and decided that his story ended -- not with creativity or hobbies or joy or even life outside of being a house boy -- but, with poverty.
That story struck me, because I do that, every day. I end people’s story. When someone comes into the church office, dressed in a suit and tie…I assume that person is here to sell me something. I start to form their story, before they even sit down. They’re pushy and fake and hard and I feel disdain rising up in me, as soon as their shiny shoes cross the threshold. And I end their story.
Or when one who is dressed in less than appealing clothes and a body odor that greets me at the door…I assume, before they even extend their hand out of formal obligation, that they need something from me. And as they tell their tragic story…for the part of their story that they share, it is always tragic, because at some point, we taught people that it had better be…when they tell their tragic story,I feel an odd mixture of pity, exasperation, and distrust. And I end their story.
Or when I struggle to communicate with someone who doesn’t speak English and that thought slips into my mind, “I wonder where they’re from,” because surely they aren’t from around here and must be from Mexico City or Mumbai or Bangkok and I wonder how they got here. And I begin to make assumptions…I assume they must be here illegally right (even though only about 20% of all first generation immigrants are undocumented), I begin to assume they must be on government assistance (because that’s what I’m told), and I assume they must be lonely or poor or tired or dangerous or lazy…
And just like the characters in our video…I end their story with flashes of what I’ve been taught by television shows and radio hosts and my grandparents and my friends and the always tragic news that I read in the newspaper. I end their story with assumptions of who a person is, before I even know their name. I end their story, even when I know there must be more.
And THAT is why we need to continue to talk about race and reconciliation.
Chimamanda continues to tell a story about going to university. Her roommate was an American…and she talks about their first encounter, and how her new roommate was shocked that she spoke English (despite that fact that English is the official language of Nigeria)…she talks about how her roommate assumed that she wouldn’t know how to use a stove…and when asked to hear some tribal music, her roommate was disappointed when she produced a recording of Mariah Carey.
And Chimamanda says this, “What struck me was, she had felt sorry for me, before she even met me. She had a default position toward me, as an African…a patronizing, well meaning pity. My roommate had a single story of Africa…a single story of catastrophe…there was no possibility of being similar to her, no possibility of feelings being more complex than pity, no possibility of us, as humans, being equals.”
Chimamanda continues, saying, that if she hadn’t grown up in Africa, she too, may have assumed that Africa was little more than a beautiful land with majestic animals and incomprehensible people, fighting wars, dying of aids, and waiting to be saved by a kind white foreigner. Because that is the single story of Africa…that is the end of the story. And it is the story that most of us, have known our whole lives.
People become a single story, when you show one image, over and over again. So that the single story of those from Costa Rica or Venezuela or Porta Rico is one of undocumentation and manual labor and government assistance and old women wrapped in blankets, praying the rosary.
The single story of those with chocolate brown and dark brown and black skin becomes one of gangs and guns and enemies and handouts and neighborhoods harboring criminals.
Or the single story becomes one of terrorism and subjugation of women or discount cigarette stores and taxi drivers. The single story becomes one of machismo and tourism, diabetes and alcoholism… need I go on? We know how the stories end.
We know how they end, because that’s the only ending we see on the news and when we watch "Law and Order" and from our politicians and in our history books and our blogs and twitter and facebook.
But what if I told you, that the single story that would be told about you, would be one of consumerism and indulgence and radical Christianity. What if the end of your story was your hatred for gays, lesbians, transgendered peoples and bisexuals. What if your story was only one of war and the authority to convict without just cause. Or to burn crosses in another’s yard. Or even white picket fences and stay at home moms who greet their husbands with a cocktail in hand. I suspect you would be aghast. Heartbroken. You would want others to hear the other side of your story. And maybe, if you heard that other, ended story enough…that story of consumerism and hatred and pleated dresses…you might begin to believe it yourselves. You might begin to believe that you were that story.
But what if my story and the story of Maria, who stopped by the office on Friday to wait for a cab, had more similarities than differences. What if, when we started talking…her in broken English and me trying so hard to remember my 9th grade Spanish…what if we found that we both loved dogs and ice cream and that Fall was our favorite time of year.
What if we both talked about how we’re not sure what we think about Syria, other than pain for life lost, when with wrinkled brows, we wonder if American intervention was the right thing. Or that it scares us when we hear about young people dying of heart attacks and we both smirk about the fact that maybe we shouldn’t love ice cream as much as we do, because talking about death, when it’s so close to you, is uncomfortable no matter what color your skin is.
I don’t even know Maria’s last name…but I know her story is more than what I’ve been told…it’s more than immigration or poverty or praying the rosary. And vice versa.
We’re told over and over again in the Bible, that love has the last word. We are commanded to love…even when it’s not easy. We’re told that love supersedes law and that love is Godly. We’re encouraged to love in ways that are radical…meaning, we’re to love in ways that expand the story…and we’re told that we’re to do this, because such love was offered first, to us. But I know that’s hard…
We hear this story…this story of Love, once, maybe twice a week…maybe even everyday for 15 minutes during our morning coffee or meditation time if we’re committed to that sort of thing...but we hear a different story…a story that seems to be the antithesis of love….a story that is shrouded with suspicion and anxiety and hatred and judgment and dishonesty…24 hours a day.
But we know that the story of love, matters. We know that the story of love writes new endings. Reconciles one to another. Brings about new change, new hope, new life. So we must. We must live as if we believe it. Live as those who love, first. Not because it’s a good idea. Or it might be helpful. Or maybe something in our world might change. Though all of those things would be true. But because Jesus Christ has demanded it of us. Because he believed in the inbreaking of the Spirit of Love. And if Jesus believed that love mattered…that hearing the end of the story, was as valuable as the beginning…then I think we ought to listen to that word, head that word, and live that word. Thanks be to God…
This article will be published in the October newsletter, but because this is a new ministry and I think, one we should be excited about, I figured it wouldn't hurt to publish it here too:
During the months of April and May, 9-13 people from across
the life of the congregation, gathered together each Wednesday night to share
fellowship and worship, read the Bible, and discern three main things: what
Cherokee’s past had taught them, what the reality of the present actually looked like, and what a “dream”
future might include.By the end of the
discernment study, the consensus among the group, was that Cherokee Christian
Church ought to focus their collective energy on ministry with children and
those who care for children.This decision
was affirmed by the Elders and the Board, and I was charged with finding a
ministry that could be sustained with our limited budget, small membership, and
uncertain future.
And by the grace of God and the Spirit of Leading, I met
Misty, the Director of MOM.MOM, is a ministry
with and for, single mothers.MOM is a
“…a relationship-based
ministry dedicated to the restoration and healing of single-mother families.Through small groups, personal relationships,
regional events, discipleship, and inter-ministry networking, MOM seeks to
equip single mothers to walk in healing and wholeness through the deeper
understanding of who Jesus Christ is.”MOM
offers fellowship, seminars and continued education, family fun opportunities,
accountability, and networking…all framed around the love of Jesus Christ.
Misty and I
met several times, wondering and exploring how Cherokee Christian Church might
be part of the lives of these single mothers…how we might offer a bit of solace
and hope…and how we might be the face of Jesus Christ for these women!!And as it turned out, MOM needed more space.
Of course,
we have that in abundance.But simply
providing space didn’t seem sacrificial, relational, service oriented, or even
all that hope-filled.Especially when I
had learned, through our conversation, that 89% of women who go through divorce,
“lose” their church.Or that at least
70% of all disciplinary issues within the middle school, involve children who
come from single parent homes.I also
learned that the quality of life for newly separated or divorced women, drops
disproportionally when compared to their male counterparts, with 30% of single
mothers, living in poverty.
The Elders
and I wondered how we could be a more intentional, active presence in the life
of these women.
And so, on
the first Saturday of each month (beginning November 2), we will make “sacred
space” for 50-75 women, who will gather for fellowship, support, learning, and
nurture.We will prepare a meal/brunch
(at no cost to us), we will set up tables, and make an atmosphere of “value”
for these women who may not have folks “do” for them, very often.We will sit at table with them, listen to
their story, and support them in prayer (sounds like the work of Christ
followers, huh?!).And when the morning
has ended, we will clean up after them (so they don’t have to) and continue to
keep them…their prayers, their struggles, and their dreams… in our hearts.
I hope that
everyone might find a way to “plug
in” to this community ministry, either by cooking or cleaning, setting up, or
simply sitting at table with them, and being present to a group that is often
overlooked.If you have more questions
and/or a willingness to be part of this exciting and life-giving ministry,
please contact me (Rev. Trish) at revtrish@aol.com.
What a joy
it is, to serve God in life and ministry with you….
Fifty years ago today, one of the most well known speeches in the world, took place. "I have a dream..." by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.. Today, preachers quote it, activists live it, children recite it, and a world yearns to know its truth.
And the people dream on...hoping, praying, yearning for a day, when equality will be made known in ways that are tangible and real and life-giving and hope-filled.
If you would like to listen to the speech in its entirety...click below.
A snippet (granted, a long snippet!) from the sermon preached on August 4:
As they went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village,
where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named
Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha
was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do
you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work myself? Tell her,
then, to help me."
But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are
worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary
has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her." - Luke 10:38-42
..........Because in that moment…the doing, has become more important
than the who, that we’re doing for.The
work has become about the task and appeasement and the "proper thing" …rather
than about pleasing God and hearing Jesus’ call and breathing in the
Spirit in all that we do.
It is NOT that Jesus doesn’t want us to work…to do and be the
active embodiment of the Divine in the world.It is, rather, that when we do these things…we do them remembering whose
we are and who we are…people of faith, called out by Jesus Christ, to do the
work of the Kingdom, here on earth.That
is who we are.
If the bread is burnt, because we are talking to one of God’s
children…that’s okay.If the roof leaks
for one more month, because one of God’s beloved needed grocery’s to feed her
family…that’s okay.If the kitchen is
left dirty one night, because those who have found respite in God’s house, were
celebrating one year of sobriety…that’s okay.If the bulletins don’t get done because another was comforted in their
grief…that’s okay.
And on the flip side….
if we bake bread, so
that others can eat…that’s good too.If
we fix the roof, so that others can worship comfortably in this place…that’s
good too.If we clean the kitchen, so
that we can offer hospitality to the least of these…that’s good too.If we print bulletins, so that another can
lean in closer to God on a Sunday morning…that’s good too.
It’s when we forget the heart behind what we do, that it
becomes meaningless, glorified busyness.
Sometimes I fear that we are becoming Martha’s.So focused on the doing…of what comes next
for Cherokee Christian Church…that we forget to be church.We busy ourselves with worry and nervous
chatter and hand wringing rather than the prophetic, embracing, table work that
we have been called to.And we start to
stand in the doorway and call to Jesus, reprimanding those who don’t work and
function and busy, the way we do.
And somewhere along the line, we forget that Jesus is
beckoning to us to do the “better thing.” To forget this – the country club
with its “right way” of doing things and its cleanliness and perfectly baked
bread – and instead, to give ourselves to Jesus in all its rawness and
messiness and expectedness.
One of the options before us, as a body of Christ, is to sell
this building…with all its needs and busyness and bigness…and move to a smaller
building…something that will accommodate our small size a little better.But I’m going to be honest here…if we simply
pluck up and land somewhere else… we’ll still fizzle out.We will.
Unless we can remember that which brought us to this place to
begin with – that deep, heart yearning that continually points to Kingdom, to
Christ in our midst.We must recapture
the passion of the Spirit.We must find
Jesus and sit at the proverbial feet of the one who is calling.
It doesn’t seem like much really…but it also can seem like
everything.Because it takes a pretty
significant shift.Suddenly, we don’t
just “do” church… we “become” church.We
don’t “go” to church…we are church.We
aren’t just Christians on Sunday…but are Christ’s followers everyday.We don’t just work because we have to…we work
because we are called to.
There is an article written by Rachel Held Evans, that’s
being passed around on Facebook, about why the Millenials (that age group of
folks born between 1980 and the year 2000) are leaving church.She talks about how the church gets so busy
getting wrapped up in the business of church, that they forget that Jesus isn’t
found in the coffee bar or the pastor wearing skinny jeans or the LCD screens.And she says,
“You can’t hand us a latte and then go about business as
usual and expect us to stick around. We’re not leaving the church because we
don’t find the cool factor there; we’re leaving the church because we don’t
find Jesus there. Like every generation before ours and every generation after,
deep down, we long for Jesus.”
We have only to look around on a Sunday morning…and we can
probably rightly assume, that this isn’t just a millennial issue.
There is a world that longs for Jesus…and they won’t tie
themselves to custom and they won’t care if the bread is burnt and they
probably won’t even notice if the LCD screens are blank….but they WILL notice
Jesus and how we treat each other and how we listen to the Spirit and how we
move an do and work for God.
So before we make any moves, sell any buildings, continue to
busy ourselves with this…we need to find ways to connect with Jesus.To leave the busyness behind and be
church.Let us hear Jesus, when he says,
“…you are worried and distracted by many things; there is only one thing that
matters,” and know all the way down into our toes, that the one thing that
Jesus refers to, is him.The
Divine.The Hope.The Restoration.The Promise of New Life.
Let us live as those who hear that word, head
that word, and live that word. Let us give our whole selves to God…our service,
our work, our prayers, and our stillness…
This is so, totally worth the read...it's not even funny. There is truth here. And I thank Shane, over at shaneblackshear.com for saying it.
1. Don’t participate, merely consume.
If I had to say the one thing holding the American church back today, it would be a consumeristic culture. We’ve come to expect that the latest technology comes standard in our cars. Our movie theaters should have wide rows with extra padded seats and that lean way back.
Unfortunately, we think our church should be no different. Just like the movie theater, we come when the production starts, sit in our seats, are entertained, and think we should leave satisfied when it’s over.
When I was a pastor, those most unsatisfied in our body, were those who just showed up on Sunday’s (sometimes). There was little to no participation in small groups, service projects or teaching and serving within the church.
Obviously there are those in most churches who are seekers, or young in the faith that just need to be taken care of for a season, but that should be a temporary state.
2. Criticize your leadership.
I once heard about a couple who didn’t like their pastor because he told stories about his family in the pulpit before beginning his sermons. Quirky? Yeah, kinda. Unbiblical, sinful, illegal, harmful?! Definitely not. We’ve really got understand the difference.
It’s also not fair to compare your pastor to the celebrity pastor on the other side of the country whose book we just read and now believe that every church everywhere should be run like that celebrity pastors church. Remember that celebrity pastor is in a completely different context. He doesn’t know your church, and he also doesn’t come to your home when you have a tragedy or celebrate with you when you have a baby or other joyous life event.
We’re hard on our pastors. Their job is a very public job. One that’s performed in front of an audience (by ‘performed’ & ‘audience’ I just mean that the duties of the job are undertaken in front of a crowd of people). We would do well to remember that our pastors/church leaders are human beings like us, full of quirks and wrestling with sin and struggles just like we do. Instead of seeing our pastors with targets on their backs, we should see them with love and compassion and as people who have dedicated their time to serve the body.
If you have a legitimate concern, approach your leader about it, and don’t talk about the them behind their back. Be kind, be loving.
3.Don’t spend time with your church outside of the church building.
Most of our churches corporate gatherings serve a great purpose. We worship together and we learn together. But most aren’t very conducive to getting to know each other on a deeper level. This isn’t a failure on the part of our leadership, it’s just the nature of a larger gathering. We need these small group gatherings (not just official ‘small groups’, but parties, coffee dates, men’s/women’s nights, etc.). I’ve found that I learn more about a person over 30 minutes of sharing coffee or a beer, than I did attending liturgy with them for several months.
4. Believe that everything should be about you and for you, all the time.
Not long after Kate and I started attending our current church, they undertook a ‘season of kids’. There was additional time in liturgy given to teaching the children in the church. The kids participated in the service in various ways. Even the sermons were about child-like faith and other themes centered around children.
Kate and I didn’t have children (we now have one on the way if you’re not keeping up), and we were not ourselves children. We had to understand – not everything is about/for us all the time.
That’s not to say that we didn’t get anything from the season of kids, it just wasn’t aimed directly at us, but even that taught us something important, because the church that teaches you that everything is about you, all the time, is preaching a very different message than – lay down your lives for each other.
We were also appreciative to be apart of a church that found value in children and went to great lengths to show it to them.
5. Be unhappy with the fact that it isn’t perfect.
“There is no perfect church, and if you find one, don’t join it because you’ll ruin it.” I don’t know who first said that, but it’s true. All churches are strong in some areas and weak in others. Hopefully churches are always working on those weaknesses, but if we can’t settle for anything less than perfection, then we’re in real trouble.
In his book “Under the Unpredictable Tree,” Eugene Peterson helps pastors be content in the church they are in. Maybe there needs to be a version for church members. In the book Peterson coined the term “Ecclesiastical Pornography.” That is the perfect term to describe the problem that so many people have. We look at the church down the street, or the church in town that’s “doing really well,” or the celebrity pastor’s church and think – “they have it all together” or “they’re doing church right.”
Many people start attending those churches and after the honeymoon period wears off, they find that church has weaknesses of its own. Sadly many people go through life thinking the perfect church is just around the corner, or as many young evangelicals do, they decide that they don’t need church at all and embark on solo-Christianity.
Church is like marriage in a lot of ways. In the beginning it’s fun, and exciting, but eventually the honeymoon comes to an end and it’s work, real work, but we find that the work is rewarding and worthwhile, and it’s work that God meant for us to be doing.
A letter of hope... and explanation... concerning the General Assembly resolution (or, "sense of the Assembly") GA 1327, from our General Minister and President, The Reverend Dr. Sharon Watkins.
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ -
Grace and peace to you in the name of the living Christ who lives and moves among us, who calls us to the Table, then sends us forth to serve.
I write to share a word with all Disciples congregations following an important vote at the 2013 Orlando General Assembly.
In these days following assembly,my heart is prayerful; my spirit hopeful; and my love for our church is strong. Surely, God has given Disciples a blessing and a mission for wholeness, welcoming all to the Lord's Table of reconciliation and love.
That blessing and mission for Disciples begins in a congregation. In congregations we come forward and make or reaffirm our confession of faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. There we are baptized, our babies are dedicated, we are married and our parents buried. Our faith is nurtured and sometimes challenged in a beloved community of other Disciples we know and love.
We extend the blessing as we join hands with other Disciples congregations to share God's love in our communities and around the world. We offer words and prayers of comfort and challenge, as well as hands-on help, to our neighbor in times of need. In many diverse ways, we learn the story of Jesus and invite others to walk in his love.
The recent vote to "adopt" Resolution GA1327, Becoming a People of Grace and Welcome to All, has significance for the Church, but it is important to recognize the nature of that significance.
The intent of the resolution is to urge Disciples to welcome into our congregations and other ministries all who seek Christ. It serves as a reminder that among Disciples we do not bar the church door or fence the table from those who desire the embrace of God's love.
Here is what this "Sense of the Assembly" resolution is not:
It is not a statement of "unwelcome" for Disciples who did not support the resolution. All who confess faith in Jesus Christ are welcome. All means all.
It is not a policy change. The congregation where you worship and serve will not be requested to establish (or change) a policy on gay or lesbian persons in the life of the Church. The region where your congregation is affiliated is not required to change its policies on ordination. Your pastor is not required to bless same-gender marriages.
It is not a theological mandate. It does not say that we have the same biblical understanding of sexual orientation or gender identity. Disciples, prayerfully and with biblical study and other research, come to their own understanding on these matters.
This resolution does, however, carry symbolic importance in the life of our Church. It reminds us that our baptism into the living Christ continues to be our common ground
It points out that within the broad membership of Disciples, among the many congregations in covenant with each other, there have always been gay and straight, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender persons who participate fully in the life and leadership of the church.It urges us to treat each other with gospel hospitality as we seek to understand each other better.
My deepest hope is that, in the coming weeks and months, with God's help, we will continue in worship and mission together even when we profoundly disagree - as we have so often done before - recognizing that it is God's covenant of love that binds us to God and to one another[1] in Christ. My prayer is that together we will continue to witness to God's gift of reconciliation and wholeness before the brokenness of the world.
United though not uniform, diverse but not divided, let us name our differences, then claim our common calling to be and to share the good news of Jesus Christ who came "that the world might be saved". (John 3:17)
I have many thoughts swimming through my heart and soul tonight...but I seem to lack the clarity of thought, to commit them to paper (or internet, as it is!).
So I would draw your attention to the "business" of the church...as an Assembly, we gather every two years to discern, discuss, and vote (though we use that word with hesitation) on issues that relate to the life of the church and the world it functions within. This year, there were three "biggie" issues which included parental leave, drone warfare, and the full inclusion of GLBT persons into the life of the church.
If you'd like to follow along and see what's happening with these resolutions, you can find the link here. You can also find ministry reports there too...as well as an overview of how a resolution makes its way to General Assembly (which, if you're sorta a geek like me, you might find interesting!).
But about that "vote" that I referenced....
As you may know, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) stands by the idea of congregational autonomy...which means, that though we have a few "essentials" (which will be a future blog post)... for the most part, each congregation makes its own decisions, hires its own leaders, decides how to disseminate its financial gifts, interprets scripture, and practices the faith INDIVIDUALLY... without a judicatory or hierarchical body mandating the parameters.
Because congregations practice autonomy, it also means that when the General Assembly gathers and "votes" on something (like say, full inclusion of all persons into the sacraments of the church), said vote becomes what is called, a "sense of the Assembly." This means...that the denomination is leaning in this direction (at least those who have gathered)....but it's not a mandate for the local congregation.
That's frustrating for many of us...especially when these "sense of the Assembly" votes move the arc of justice and inclusion and hope in such a way that points to God... but it's also a gift.
We live in a world that is very "black and white" with stark lines drawn between Democrat and Republican, Liberal and Conservative, Pro-Life and Pro-Choice, Homophobic and GLBTQ Advocate, Pacifist and War Supporter, Christian radio listener and Top 40 jammer...you know. But the church (because of this congregational autonomy, which means that we readily and willingly fall on both sides of just about EVERY issue) gets to figure out how to live together and talk together and argue together and pray together and weep together and break bread together... because we're in this together!
We know, deep in our souls, that unity is not about likeness of mind...but about likeness of Spirit. We know that sometimes, thoughtful dialogue is the spirit at work. We know that sometimes God uses dissension in the community of faith to increase our capacity to love [Suchocki]. We know that relationship trumps doctrine.
And what a gift we have to share with the divided world...a gift of new vision: a vision of the Kingdom of God, in all of its diversity and messiness and confusion and gray areas, that is still united in Spirit and Love!!
Surely the Kingdom of God must look a little like, what we experienced tonight, in worship.
A table piled high with loaf after loaf of bread.
Lights shining.
Guitars and drums and violins making joyful noise.
The "least of these," preaching a prophetic word.
The littlest ones, playing in the center of it all.
Adults water-coloring with children who were not their own.
Puppets telling the story.
Scripture being read in five - FIVE - different languages.
And songs being sung by heart.
Bread being consumed in the soul.
Holding hands.
Wiping tears.
Loving God.
Living faith.
Tonight, The Reverend Dr. Sharon Watkins, our General Minister and President of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), presented to the gathered assembly, the State of the Church.
You know the numbers. We've talked about the stats. The depressing downward slide. The troubles... the "why are they so big when we're so small" conversations... the hand wringing... and heavy sighs.
We know all that.
We're living all that.
But tonight she said one thing, that I want us to remember....to claim...to make our own, as we move into the future: "If we were to compare ourselves with God's future, rather than our past...the horizon would be bright."
When I first heard that sentence...that statement of FAITH and HOPE and FUTURE... an "amen" erupted from my lips!
May we be those people...as congregational people and denominational people... but even more so, as faith people... who compare ourselves to God's future... with faithful abandon and reckless hope...and believe (like, way down in our toes and in our gut!) that God is NOT done with us yet!
When a child dies at the hands of another...especially at the hands of violence...it costs us.
Sure, it costs money and air time and news space and all those bits of "cost" that actually, somehow, manage to benefit someone else...someone other than the one who has died (namely, lawyers and networks)...
But it costs us...as human beings...who have been knit so intricately together, by the Divine strand of creation...it costs us our spirits. It costs us that little glimmer inside that says "God is bigger than this" and we start to ache in ways that are insatiable. We start to glance at others with a shroud of suspicion. We start to believe that humanity is just as "bad" as we've been led to believe. We start to pray a little less. Shout alleluia a little less. Fall on our knees a little less.
And God weeps. God weeps for Trayvon and all the children who have known a violent death at the hands of another. God weeps for his mother and all the mothers who grieve for children who were snatched from their embrace sooner than they could have in a million years, dreamed. God weeps for those who take another life and snuff it out, as if their hands did not possess the Divine thread. God weeps for those who seek "justice" in ways that beget violence. God weeps when we turn our heads from that which startles us or makes us uncomfortable... or when we ignore the violence that we have a hand in perpetrating. God weeps when we lose heart...when our souls fail to sing...when our eyes dry with apathy. God weeps...
Yes. God weeps this day.
But let that be enough. Let the Divine Tears take our jadedness and our exhaustion and our grief and our fear and our apathy...so that we might rise above it and be who we have been called and ordained to be. That is...let us be and act and react as those who are knit together by the Divine...created and sustained by the Divine...called GOOD by the Divine...and sent out by the Divine. Let us be those who are life-giving and not death-dealing...justice oriented and not ego oriented. Let us act in ways that require great feats of love, rather than disdain or apathy or listlessness. Let us react in ways that are grace filled and not retaliation minded.
Day 1 of General Assembly has come to a close and as I get ready for bed, I'm struck by a few things:
1. There's something about General Assembly that evokes a renewed sense of denominational pride and loyalty. So much so, that I painted my toes to convey that pride and loyalty! And the fact that I took, and published, a picture of said toes, is a testament to how proud I really am, of our Church! (I may or may not have a weird aversion to feet.)
2. Worshipping with 4,500 other people who all breath the same Disciples air you breath...is well...breathtaking.
Tonight, in the sermon, a church in Ohio was referenced. This church has, just outside their entrance and engraved in stone, the following:
We agree to differ;
Resolve to love;
And live to serve.
Can we all just engrave this on our hearts, and be done with it?! As people of faith, as local churches, as regional bodies, and as the general manifestation of a what it means to be "church," I wish we could make this our mantra (if we were the kind-a folks who had mantras). "We agree to differ, resolve to love, and live to serve."
Instead, we get things muddled. We forget that the church is bigger than us. We forget all the good that the church has nurtured in us...all the moments of reconciliation it has fostered...all the voices of justice that it has reared...all the glimpses of the Divine that it has allowed us....
And I think what General Assembly does, at least for those who actively participate, is help clear the muddled waters a bit.
I mean, it's not like we don't step out of the worship service saying things like, "I would'a ended that sermon differently," or, "I can't believe I paid $35 for that piece of dry chicken?" Afterall, most of us (or the clergy at least), spent three years of seminary learning how to critique. Everything. It's part of our job. It's part of being prophetic. It's also just part of being human. And dare I say, it's part of being church.
But in spite of our critiques, there's a hope that floats just a little above our hearts and a giddiness in our voices, that reminds us WHY we're church.
...When the fear of "not good enough" tries to conquer us...we are reminded that God has called us to be the Divine presence to a broken world. Even in our own brokenness.
...When we fear "what might be" and retreat into safe-keeping...we are reminded that God is with God's people...be it, in the desert or the valley or the sea. Or even in death.
...When we fear saying something - anything - because it might ruffle a feather...we are reminded that God spoke mightily, and gave even those who were not public speakers, a voice that was salvific. And God expects us to continue to be a voice of Justice, Peace, Hope, and Reconciliation.
...When we fear that the world is too much...the injustice and the murder and the hatred and the anxiety and the pain...is just too much, and it begins to seep into our soul... we are reminded that the burden is not ours to carry alone, but one to share with the One who is creating and re-creating and the One who empowers us, as co-creators.
...When the fear of dying tries to break us...we are reminded that God is a resurrecting God. And new life can only begin, when we let that which is dead in us, die fully.
Tonight, The Reverend Dr. Glen Miles (minister of Country Club Christian Church in Kansas City, Missouri) served as the opening worship preacher...an honor, no doubt. And during his sermon, he said something (well, several things...but one in particular) that struck me as truth. He said: "Fear is about our ego... and not about God."
If we're to be a people about God...and not about the ego (let the world do that...it's pretty good at it anyway)...then we have to let those fears go. We just have to.
We're breathing the same Divine air (be it Disciple or Buddhist or Anglican or...or whatever air you breath).... let it inspire our pride and our loyalty, our passion and our compassion, our voice and our heart.......let it inspire us.
Just a thought, on this General Assembly evening...
While Disciples from all over the country, gather in Orlando for five days to study and learn, pray and teach, laugh and cry...one of the things they/we will do best, is worship!
If you are interested in watching a live stream of these daily and nightly worship services, click on the link here, and follow the instructions as necessary.
Then Jesus said, “God’s kingdom is like
seed thrown on a field by a man who then goes to bed and forgets about it. The
seed sprouts and grows—he has no idea how it happens. The earth does it all
without his help: first a green stem of grass, then a bud, then the ripened
grain. When the grain is fully formed, he reaps—harvest time! How can we picture God’s kingdom? What
kind of story can we use? It’s like a pine nut. When it lands on the ground it
is quite small as seeds go, yet once it is planted it grows into a huge pine
tree with thick branches. Eagles nest in it. With many
stories like these, he presented his message to them, fitting the stories to
their experience and maturity. He was never without a story when he spoke. When
he was alone with his disciples, he went over everything, sorting out the
tangles, untying the knots. +Mark 4:26-34(MSG)
I
don’t know who Samuel Johnson is, other than he was an Anglican and an English
poet, but I’d like to buy him coffee.Because
in two sentences, he has articulated the plight of mainline Christianity, the
Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)…and maybe more specifically, Cherokee
Christian Church.
It’s
not new news, that there are some denominations and some independent
congregations who have no problem telling others what to believe and how to
function in the world.Be it marriage
equality, immigration reform, Biblical literalism, or the “place” of
women…someone, somewhere, in the world of religion, is making a bold and
courageous statement about something (even if it’s NOT the bold and courageous
statement I would make).
And
because these congregations and denominations feel comfortable making these
statements about the “big issues,” they have little hesitation in making bold
and courageous statements about the micro-issues, like…weather or not a
congregation should sell their building or if they should change the color of the paint
in the hallway.Oh sure…there’s always
some moaning and gnashing of teeth for any change…we are a people who value
homeostasis…but for most of these apostolic and theologically conservative expressions
of faith, when change is in the air, it’s just common knowledge that the “buck
stops” with the leader…the priest or the pastor…even if you don’t agree.
Either
fortunately or unfortunately, that is not the case for the Christian Church
(Disciples of Christ).It would be nice
sometimes though, wouldn’t it?If the
region would just come in here and tell us what to do…no more thinking about it or
praying about it or bloomin' discernment. But that’s not how it works for
us.
Instead,
we have a long history of looking unilateral decisions right in the eyeball and
then…coming up with every possible objection, alternative, voice, and argument we
can think of…until we’re so tired of talking about it, that we give
up…retreat…and end up back where we started.Which is: stalled.
And
it’s where we’re at today.As Cherokee.
You’ve
been Unbinding Your Heart and waiting for New Beginnings for over three years
now…and in the past six months, I’ve listened to all the reasons why new
ministry ideas won’t work.I’ve listened to why old ministry ideas,
tried once and having failed, would never work again.I’ve fielded calls and emails wrought with
anxiety about how to keep “this” going, but when I’ve asked what the caller on
the other end of the line might do to help, I’ve been greeted with
silence.I’ve listened to the yearnings
for fellowship and service and study and yet, when offering opportunities for fellowship,
service and study, few of those who have asked, are filling the seats.I’ve heard complaints about the music and the
bulletins and the air conditioning and the yoga studio and the AA group and the
kind of toilet paper that can be found in our bathrooms…
...but
I have not heard us talking about the disproportionate suicide rate of these
kids who are returning from war or the alarming number of homeless, run away
children who are gay, lesbian, or transgendered.I have not heard us talk about the lack of support
for the working poor or the lack of advocacy for those seeking citizenship in
our country.
To
be frank, I haven’t heard us talk about any of the kinds of things that Jesus talked
about.And if we wanna be church…well,
then we ought to be talking about those things….not the “used to” things or the
“that’ll never work” things or “we’ve done that before and failed” things.But the things that matter.
My
guess is, you wanna talk about those things.But don’t know how.Or don’t
wanna get into it, in case you offend someone. Or you’re afraid of the work it
might require.Or maybe you didn’t know that the
church was a place where you could
talk about those things.Or maybe you’ve
gotten so used to talking about all the other stuff… you’ve gotten so used to
talking about saving yourself, and all the micro-ways we try to do that (by
controlling who uses the building and how, or what sort of toilet paper we
should buy)...maybe you gotten so used to talking about that stuff, that you’ve
forgotten how to talk about the stuff
that matters.I don’t know.
But
I’m gonna be blunt here and say, we’ve gotta make a shift, as the whole
Body of Christ, from those who love this church…to those who love God, who
serve Jesus, and who trust the Holy Spirit.
I
get it, you guys….I really do.We love
this place.I probably don’t love it
like some of you love it…because I didn’t raise my children in this place or
walk my daughter down the isle or grieve my spouses death in this place.I haven’t sat in the same pew for 45 years,
looking at the same storied window through all the hills and valleys of my
life, like you have.I haven’t tasted
communion on my tongue and wondered where it’s been my whole life, like you
have, in this place.But I get it.Our places matter.
So
some of you walked out last Sunday…hurt, pained, and despondent.Some of you walked out, saying things like,
“fine, let’s just sell it [the building] and be done with it.”
As
if that were the only option.And maybe
it is…though that will depend on you.
Because
there are some other options out there.But they will require your participation.They will require you to put aside your old
conversations, and have new ones.Because we just can’t sustain “this” for forever.The way it is, right now.If we do…we will die.And Cherokee Christian Church will die.
I
mean, the brass tacks are this: There are 47 of us worshiping, on average, each
Sunday…in 28,000 square feet.It costs
us about 46,000 a year, just to maintain the building.That means, no big repairs, no major
improvements, no assessability shifts, no facelifts.But more importantly, that also means we
don’t make big moves….we don’t engage in big ministries.In part, because we don’t have the
money (though this is a misnomer).But I think mostly, it’s because
we don’t have the energy.
We
may not even realize it, but a whole heck of a lot of energy goes into
anxiety.And anxiety kills dreams.It just does.
So
it’s time to put the dream killing aside, and start telling our story
again.
A
story of a tiny seed being planted in the middle of a growing little town, that
grew so big, that it nested eagles. A story of widespread community outreach
and intentional world outreach and tiny hands learning what it means to do
outreach.A story of celebrations and
farewells and welcome.A story of hope
and work and prayer and pain and laughter…….all branches of a story, planted by
one little seed.
The
seed that was planted here in 1950 has grown from tiny sapling, to aged
tree….and in a lot of ways, the soil is no longer fertile.The time we live in, does not assume full pews
and full offering plates, and the needs of the community do not necessitate our inclusion.And so WE need to fertilize the great and
mighty tree.
At
the Wednesday Night Discernment Study…near the end of the series, we did an
activity, which asked each member of the study to dream.I think we had 10 people there that night
(which, for those of you who are quick with your math, know…that’s about 1/5 of
our congregation)…and once they divided up into pairs, they took some time to
formulate their dreams.Returning to the
round table to share, we found out quickly, that each dream included nurturing
children.Which just makes sense, when
you’re housing eagles nests, right.
And
so, that dream has been taken to your Elders…that dream of caring for the least
of these…and they’re talking about it and giving life to the dream.Today, following worship, chances are good,
they’ll start to make some tangible decisions about that dream as they’ve spent
the last month intentionally praying about what sort of “hat hanging” ministry
Cherokee might engage in with passion and commitment.
Cause
see, Cherokee, over the years…has become a little complacent.And that happens….it’s not a critique.It’s just reality. The fervor of being a new
church wears off….or the ease of being a big church dissipates…or the
excitement of a new leader grows stale.
Complacency
just happens. It happens in our relationships…in our jobs…even in our
hobbies.But especially in our
churches.And it’s killing our churches.Especially those of us in denominations who
value the voice of the congregation and who seek to find common ground
together.We work so hard sometimes to find
our common ground that we sometimes fail to ever touch the ground!
But
if we don’t hang our hat on anything, other than being together on a Sunday
morning… we’ll never grow.Sure.But more than that…we won’t live out our mandate – our command from Jesus our Lord – to love and serve our
neighbor as ourselves.
I
know you don’t wanna be that church, who “just” keeps their doors open. I know your history…I know your hearts…and
that’s not you.
Because,
you’re that mighty tree -- that glimpse of the Kingdom of God -- who has nested eagles!
But
it takes work.And say what you will
about being tired or wanting to pass the torch. I betcha, if you can release the energy you
spend on being anxious about what the future of the church might look like….and
put that energy in being present for that hat hanging idea that the Elders are
excited and encouraged by…I bet you’d be surprise how much energy you have.I bet you’ll be surprised how high you can
hold that torch still.I bet you’ll
spend more time being filled with joy, than perfecting your furrowed brow.God just works that way.
It’s
why God is SO good.Because every time
we say can’t or won’t or no way or I’m too tired….God’s says, “I have a
different ending to that story.”
God
says, I give you a tiny little seed….and I will turn that tiny seed – in to a
mighty tree, big enough and strong enough and good enough and wide enough to
nest eagles.And I’d like for you to be
part of it!
God
doesn’t need our help….But God…from beginning to end…desires our help, our investment, our relationship……so
much so, that we have been named co-creators.
Don’t
you wanna be part of that God-activity?!Don’t you wanna go from this place, knowing that whatever tiny seed you
might sow today, has the potential to house eagles?!
Let’s
give passion a go.Let’s give action and
reaction and engagement with God’s mission a go.Let’s write a different ending to our
story.We may still not be able to hold on to “this”…we may still find ourselves in need of major changes and needing to make difficult
decisions…but at least we’ll have been living out and telling a story worth
hearing.Not a story of little church,
that sputtered to a stop…but a story of a church who housed eagles, till the
very last day and the very last moment.Let’s be that church.We have a
story to tell.And it’ll take all of us,
to tell it.Amen.
