Saturday, December 26, 2009

After the chaos…

The day after Christmas, 2008, Tabitha and I went to the Mall of America. Yes, it was a gamble. Perhaps it put our lives in danger. But sometimes you just need to be bold, take risks. And praise God, we lived to tell the tale.

MoA after-Christmas was packed, as you might expect. Thousands mulled and moved about, each at their own pace. Families dashed from store-to-store eager for perfect deals, or desperate to return their gifts and escape before the masses clogged the streets. Alas, it was too late. All parking lots were jammed; the streets in and out also. What happens when too many people gather into the same space, with access to consumer goods and much too much junk food? Simply put: Chaos.

But we couldn’t complain. We spent the afternoon at the mall, on purpose. And I’m glad. Not only did I purchase great shoes for cheap, we also undertook some amateur anthropological study (aka- “people-watching”). We made a stunning discovery- Whether preparing for a big holiday, or completely absent the pressure of a looming deadline, people are relatively constant in their aptitude for chaos. It seems we like it, despite constant complaints to the contrary.

This sounds anti-intuitive, right? Usually, when faced with chaotic circumstances (exiting the stadium after a Minnesota Wild hockey game, or when fourteen people descend on the kitchen to help cook Christmas dinner), our immediate response is, “Make it stop!” Our explanation is that we hate either the stress, or the confusion, or the lack of control, or… whatever. And many times, like when a busy traffic light goes out, it’s true that chaos is undesirable. Nevertheless, for all the complaints we raise against chaos, last year’s after-Christmas excursion caused me to reevaluate.

After all, if ever the mall should be a) at diminished capacity, or at least b) moving somewhat slowly, lethargically, I’d think it would be December 26. Many don’t work that day; kids don’t return to school for another week or three. No more Christmas lists need filling, all last-minute Christmas gifts were purchased already. That there would be crowds at the mall makes sense. That they’d all be frantic and whipped into chaos doesn’t. Why would we run around the mall when no one’s holiday will suffer if we simply meander? Why shove to the front of the line if no one’s Christmas will be ruined by waiting until tomorrow to buy what’s desired? Do we hate chaos as much as we claim? Or is there something energizing about moments of crazed mayhem?

Maybe I’m reading too much into one experience. I’m told preachers can do that. But I don’t think that’s the case, nor do I think it’s only that some personalities thrive on chaos, while others don’t. Do you remember the Bible’s opening lines? “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void, and…the Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters.” In other words, Bible scholars suggest, Creation occurs by God overcoming chaos, when God brings form and order to what was (or is) chaotic. What that tells me, at least, is that while chaos is not the final, God-desired way of lfie, it’s also a necessary step on the road to creating something more beautiful and holy. Amen, parents?

I imagine that on some intuitive level we get that. Chaos and Creation go together. Good things first require some boiling before they’re ready to serve. What that means for us, then, is that I imagine we can manage a lot of uncertainty or confusion, even if we don’t necessarily like the feeling. Indeed, we can often handle more than we expect of ourselves. Look at the mall after-Christmas. All those people, complaining it’s so crazy, chose to be there. They knew they could take it.

So the next time things get stressful or chaotic, because a co-worker is hyper-active, or things are unexpectedly changing, remember our Creation. God crafted beauty and goodness from chaos. We were resiliently made. Or you can just avoid the mall. That works too…

Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Saturday, December 19, 2009

In time for Christmas…

Christmas is typically a time for tradition, for doing what’s been done before, and keeping experiments to a minimum. My first year in college, however, that flew out the window.

It began December 8, to be specific. You might recall that there were few active Christians in my collegiate circle of friends. Indeed, only two other freshman with whom I spent regular time (Warren and Ama) considered themselves ‘actively religious.’ Ama was the first Muslim I’d ever met; Warren, the first (and only) Rastafarian. I’d attended Christian high school, so my experience of diverse religious practitioners and their traditions was woefully inadequate. Particularly because the Christian faith I grew up with encouraged distrust, even condemnation, of non-Christian religions.

So Ama and Warren were eye-opening. When I mentioned waking up early to pray, or taking time out to read Scripture, they were my only college pals who said, “Yeah, I get it. Me too.” Thus, despite some lingering disapproval of their faith perspectives, I gained deep respect for Warren and Ama. This respect led me to question whether my disapproval was, in fact, warranted. So to explore that nagging question, and to further build our bond as the token ‘religious people’ in our group, we undertook an experiment.

December 8 that year marked the beginning of the Muslim holy month, Ramadan. You may know that it’s orthodox Islamic practice to fast everyday during Ramadan, as an act of self-sacrifice, renewed commitment and full-bodied obedience to Allah, i.e. God. Fasting begins daily at sunrise, and ends at sunset. The faithful wake early for breakfast, and ingest neither food nor beverage until darkness returns (well, some drink water, others juice, i.e. it’s confusing, like all religious fasts). Ama grew up observing Ramadan, but always with her family and religious community. Seeing as she now attended a lividly secular school halfway across the nation, she asked her only other religious friends -Warren and me- to join her. We said, ‘yes,’ and thus my Advent waiting that year included thirty days of fasting. People sometimes chuckle (justly) at my strange affinity for devotional behavior.

What an experiment! If you’ve never before fasted, I highly encourage you try it out (after consulting your doctor). Jesus says lots about fasting, but never explains it, since the process was such common knowledge. So I’ll help with particulars if you want, even do it with you…just ask. But this particular fast, my first, was especially meaningful. I performed religious actions I’d never attempted, and learned of religious devotions foreign to my inherited idea of God. To be honest, it gave me deeper respect for what Ama went through each December as she saw Christmas decorations hung and heard carols sung all around her. There’s something both enticing and alarming about experiencing authentic religious activity that’s not native to your tradition. Needless to say, through that and subsequent experiences, my distrust of Islam, Rastafarianism and other genuine religious expressions faded.

So consider my dismay when, last week, I read in the Star Tribune that fliers with swastikas and sexually-explicit cartoons about the prophet Mohammed were stapled to telephone poles in St. Cloud, including poles just outside a store owned and operated by a Muslim family. “I hope Christians didn’t do that,” I thought. “What ugly Christmas decorations.” In Luke’s Gospel, angels appear the night of Jesus’ birth, and sing, “Glory to God, and on earth, peace among all people.” Signs or statements demeaning Muslims (and Jews) don’t fit with that declaration, I believe. Indeed, the Prince of Peace was born so all people- with our many shades, shapes, and differing allegiances- might live reconciled to God and one another (2 Cor. 5:18-19); might develop exuberance about God’s love and our neighbor’s well-being. It took an Advent of whining about empty stomachs with Ama and Warren for me to glimpse that wrinkle in the Christmas story. But now it’s one I pray many children and adults will hear, and tell, and live.

So Merry Christmas, everyone! Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-Us, will soon be born again. May his divine presence bring love so unconditional and indiscriminate, we just forget that meanness is even an option.


Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Friday, December 11, 2009

Just a man and his will…

“Stupid men.” Heard that comment recently? I have, and for the record, it wasn’t about tools and football. There’s nothing stupid about drills or gridiron glory. And I believe Jesus agrees.

No, this rather tongue-in-cheek remark came in response to a question I lofted at a female friend, “Did you hear about Tiger Woods?” It wasn’t just her, by the way. Other women I queried, in the church and beyond, gave almost the same reply. “Stupid men. When will they learn?” “Touché,” I thought, “Though we’re not all bad…right…” Of course, all generalizations of people groups – gender, age, race, sports fans- fall short; within any one category there’s always diversity. That said, it seems Tiger’s bad behavior touched a nerve in many that goes beyond Tiger himself.

In case you slept through last week, here’s an update. Tiger Woods, the world’s greatest golfer, had a car accident Thanksgiving night (technically, it was the next morning, 2:30 AM- YAWWWWN). Since then, speculation erupted about why the accident occurred, and especially, whether it stemmed from a family fight over Tiger’s unfaithfulness to his wife, Elin. Tabloids ran stories about alleged mistresses linked to Tiger. And the golfer published a statement vaguely admitting certain “transgressions,” his hope to become “a better husband and father,” an apology to fans and a plea for the media to “respect their privacy.” Good luck with that last one, Tiger, however decent an idea.

How to respond? Again, we admit that sports figures and celebrities aren’t default role models. They’re human, whose flaws, though, seem larger because of media exposure and greater wealth and fame. Still, this affair seemed different. It touched a deeper nerve for many people, and I must admit it wasn’t just the women quoted above. For some reason, I reacted stronger to this Tiger Woods episode than most celebrity scandals. I don’t why, but I let my guard down more in respect to his character. I wanted him to be the exception, the exemplar, yes, even the role model that others couldn’t be.

Why? Because I’m a guy who doesn’t like the notion that guys are irredeemably slavish, carnal and ceaselessly underdeveloped emotionally. I want to live as a counter example of that stereotype, and Tiger, with his uncanny coolness, seemed like an ally. I want my nephews, and the young men of our church, to discover empowering models of manly behavior that celebrate emotional complexity, mutuality, transformational vulnerability, and the deeper, more passionate joys of commitment. And I worry that young men, instead, get flooded with images and stories of men getting away with behaving irresponsibly, or worse, being praised as “cool” or “hip”. It seems like there’s a woefully short supply of places young men can turn to for examples of moral, faithful behavior. Now there’s one less. Bummer.

One of the many things I’ve enjoyed about our partnership with Thy Word Worship Center is a poster that appeared recently on their Bulletin Board. It has a boy with a sweater that reads “Teach Me,” and to his left is a list of things to teach- the usual suspects- “Don’t Do Drugs, Stay In School, etc.” It concludes with something unexpected, however, and welcome- Respect Women. Amen. The poster, you may know, is a protest against domestic violence, and I should be clear that I do not equate that with marital infidelity. Physical abuse seems worse. But it saddens me that, generally speaking (please recall the above caveat about generalizations), these infamous marital infidelities are typically men cheating on their wives. And because I’m constantly bombarded with images and stories that celebrate women’s bodies above all else, it makes me wonder… Not every act of unfaithfulness, of course, derives from a deep disrespect of women. People sometimes just mess up. But those images and stories I mentioned certainly are not respectful, and I know too many men who haven’t stopped to consider that. The image we should celebrate most is God’s image, embodied in all people.

But that’s just one thought. You got any ideas? Prayers for the Woods family. Here’s hoping they might become, at least, a model of reconciliation.

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Friday, December 4, 2009

Get there before Christmas…

Something caught my eye in the post office the other day; a sign with a message about Holiday expectations. The basic gist was that if you wanted your package to arrive in x part of the country by Christmas Eve, you’d have to send it by y date; if z state, you must send by w date, and so on. Of course, the farther it had to travel, the greater need to plan ahead. But what piqued my attention was that for packages traveling in the Midwest- to Denver, or even Kansas City- the sign demanded two weeks lead time (if my memory serves…). “Wow,” I thought, “That same letter during other times of year takes only two days!” And if you’re shipping Christmas gifts to California, add another week or two as well.

So pray for our postwomen and men! I’m sure Christmas packages take this long because of increased Holiday volume. USPS employees (and UPS, FedEx…) will work extra hard, but hopefully those signs will help. Better preparation will make customers less anxious about the punctuality of gifts (how’s that for optimism!). At the very least, I’m happy they make these dates available. It’ll help my planning in years to come.


It got me thinking- Why do we go through all this trouble during Christmas? Why do we work so hard to get everything together in time, travel such long distances, spend so much money? What makes any holiday, but this holiday especially, worth so much effort?

Honestly, I bet a big part of that answer is obligation, or if you prefer, tradition. It’s our cultural and religious tradition to, every year, make a big deal about these holidays and the few weeks prior. Families have always gotten together, whether they particularly wanted to or not. Gifts are always searched for and bought, sometimes elatedly, sometimes grudgingly. Some years, fulfilling these traditions, and the associated obligations fill us with joy and mirth. Other years, not so much. But we do them because we’ve always done them, and feel like we should take it seriously.

I don’t want that to sound like a bad thing. Tradition and obligation, in many respects, are wonderful. They prompt to actions that may seem burdensome at first, ultimately are worthwhile, meaningful, even fun. My junior year in High School, I told Mom I didn’t like my teammates, and thus was quitting soccer. She said, “No,” made me play, and we won the State Championship. Some obligations really work out just fine.

Nevertheless, for any tradition or obligation to remain meaningful, something important must be behind it. Mom told me to play soccer because she thought, regardless how I felt about my teammates at the moment, my love for the game and athletics was deeper. And she was right. The same goes for the Holidays, I suspect. Behind the traditions and feelings of obligation lie important, life-giving values. For many, the values of family connectedness and intimacy make all the fuss and bother of travel, presents and dirty, dirty kitchens well worth the struggle. That’s true during years you’re angry with your relatives as much as those years you’re feeling good.

But the Christmas Holidays are more than family reunions. They’re religious festivals, so presumably the deeper meanings derive from faith-inspired values too. Back in the day, these festivals broke up the monotony of cold, post-harvest winter months, by providing spectacle and beauty to otherwise dreary days. They reminded poor peasants and wealthy nobility alike that the glory of God, and the glorious nature of what God did for this world through the little child Jesus, overcame all things tedious or ugly, and transcended even the best we humans could imagine for ourselves. Sure, it took a lot of work for these festivals to go just right, but from a religious person’s perspective, that effort paled in comparison to what God and Jesus did, and still does, for us. So they were happy to reciprocate, in whatever small measure. I pray that’s as true for our Christmas this year as it has been in ages past. It’s a grand tradition, I’d say. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Welcoming the Stranger…

I blame Hallmark, although- perhaps- Christians helped perpetuate the lie. My enlightenment about this issue came from a pastoral colleague. A couple years back, a group of us were discussing some Christmas passage about the manger, when the lie popped up. Someone (me) said, “Isn’t it sweet to think about Jesus, in the manger, lying in hay, amidst all those cute sheep?” And while now I know how wrong that statement was, I feel completely justified in having said it. After all, I’d grown up with Hallmark’s many nativity scenes, and all those fluffy sheep on their cards, etc. But my colleague spoke up, “Oh, young man; let me learn you something. Sheep are not cute. If you’d lived in a farming community like me, you’d know how smelly, loud and dirty the manger of Jesus’ birth truly was.”

Sure, this may not be the most grievous error that religion or the greeting card industry could perpetrate on humankind, but it does shift one’s imagination about the beloved Christmas story. Think of Jesus, wrapped in swaddling (and scratchy) cloth, lying in a rickety manger, surrounded by baying barn animals, Mary doing her best to calm the child’s anxiety. And suddenly, Scripture suggests, shepherds appear, having spent the whole day (and probably the past couple days) wrestling their smelly sheep in nearby fields. Not as idyllic and serene as other portrayals of that landmark event, but it’s a telling of the story saturated in theological riches.


Remember Jesus’ parable in Matthew 25? It’s a vision of the Last Judgment, where the Eternal Judge separates “the sheep from the goats.” To both camps, Jesus pronounces the following words: Whatsoever you do unto these my children, even the least, you do so unto me. The rest of story goes that some had clothed the naked, fed the hungry and welcomed the stranger, while others had not.

That final notion, welcoming the stranger, had a long history in the religious life of Jesus’ people. Genesis tells of Abraham and Sarah sitting around the tent, when some strange fellows walk up to them. Turns out they’re angels, and they’ve come with the message this couple had waited upon for decades, “Sarah, you’re about to be pregnant.” That story says as much about welcoming the stranger as it does about trusting in God’s providence. Jewish law makes provision for certain cities in the nation of Israel to be cities of Sanctuary, where asylum would be offered any stranger who needs help and a new start to life. Christians for millennia have practiced, as essential to our faith, numerous acts of welcoming the stranger. We call it hospitality. And from the Disciples of Christ perspective, the hospitality we’re called to extend is open to any and all, to every person that would come share the bounty of the Lord’s Table in our midst. You might say that at the core of our faith is a value we at Plymouth Creek hold dear. Indiscriminate hospitality. Welcoming each and every stranger God brings our way.

But we don’t think of that concept very often when we’re talking Christmas, right? Indiscriminate hospitality gets practiced during Communion, in remembrance of Jesus’ final meal with his Disciples. Christmas, rather, is all about fluffy sheep and wealthy wise men laden with presents. Think again. Those sheep and their shepherds were not the most illustrious of houseguests. The wise men are a different story, though I’d imagine the conversation via interpreter proved rather halting. As strangers to Bethlehem, of course, Mary and Joseph had received welcome when no room was found at the local Inn. Then, it seems the Holy Couple responded in kind and welcomed other strangers, shepherds and foreign dignitaries and more besides, to share the joy of their newborn child. They practiced indiscriminate hospitality at the beginning of Jesus’ life, setting him on a path that would extend God’s open-armed adventure to more than anyone would’ve dared imagine.

So Merry Christmas! May you receive abundant welcome at many tables, and even find time to welcome a stranger or two who needs it. You never know when God might drop in.

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, November 29, 2009

Now that’s impressive…

The other evening, I attended an art exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Art- The Louvre and the Masterpiece. As you’d expect, the exhibit featured four rooms filled with artistic “masterpieces” from the world’s most famous museum- Paris’ Louvre. I know many of you have heard of this exhibit, or even been yourself. I found it wonderful. If you like staring at old paintings and sculptures, that is.

And as it intended, the exhibit got me thinking about masterpieces. That word pops up occasionally, presumably to describe something particularly praiseworthy. There are masterpieces of painting and sculpture, of course. But there’s also books and films (Masterpiece Theatre, anyone?). Some athletes’ bodies get described as ‘masterpieces,’ which I’d call an awkward type of objectification (as if kids of both genders don’t have enough body image pressures already). There’s even a famous, self-described ‘masterpiece’ BBQ sauce. And if you go to Kansas City soon, pick me up a bottle.  

       Would you describe Christian faith as a religious masterpiece?  Is it even appropriate to use that word in such a context?  Of course, some Christians would claim our faith is the only religion worth considering for that distinction, but I certainly wouldn’t go that far.  It’s also true that some non-religious folk would contend that no religion, especially Christianity, has any worth, let alone deserves ‘masterpiece’ status.  And I’d respond with, “Boooo.” Of a more challenging nature, I believe, are those many who would claim that all religions are valuable, to the exact degree as every other one.  So each religious tradition neither is nor is not a masterpiece.  It just is.  Hmm…

      I find that final way of thinking quite prevalent in my generation.  Indeed, in some ways, I’m inclined to agree.  After all, if you were giving out medals for which religious tradition is the closest to ‘masterpiece,’ what criteria would you use?  Truth?  Whomever tells the best stories?  Whomever has convinced the most people, or done the world the most good, or respects its clergy the most (I like that one…)?  And really, would any of us know enough about all the choices to actually decide?  Yeah, me neither, and I’m the professional here!

      Still, as open-minded about this stuff as I try to be, I’m inclined to think there’s something rather remarkable about Christian faith.  If religions could be ‘masterpieces,’ I think Christianity would get a nod (while the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, though irreverently funny, would likely miss out).  I’m sure one reason I say that is I’m paid to say that.  And also because I grew up in the church, etc, etc.  But I’d like to think I’ve better, less personal reasons for dubbing Christian faith a masterpiece religion.

      Try this one on for size- Two thousand years ago, a poor, oppressed peasant in a volatile, but otherwise unremarkable province of the Roman Empire, convinced twelve or so guys to be his disciples, and this year we are spending a month singing and worrying about his birth.  As have billions before us.  What’s remarkable about that, for me, isn’t the sheer size of Jesus’ influence.  Any person or set of stories can gain power, whether those people or their stories are worthy or not.  Rather, two things stick out- 1) Jesus shouldn’t have made a difference, but he did.  ALL the odds were stacked against him and his followers, and somehow they changed the world.  That’s smacks of God to me.  2) Whenever, he gets talked about, people use the words love and goodness, i.e. stuff that makes the world better.  Surely, not every Christian embodies those words, and all too often we’ve contradicted the values at the core of the Jesus story.  But every Christian learns that “love thy neighbor” part of the story.  Which tells me it’s a pretty good story, at least, and that too smacks of God.

      Those are just some simple, brief thoughts.  This is too large an issue for one letter to clarify.  But what do you think?  Can religions be masterpieces?  What makes one masterful or not?  What about Jesus?  What makes him so impressive, to you?  In all things,
 
Grace and Peace, 

Shane
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Friday, November 20, 2009

What’s in a name…

I grew up desperately wanting a nickname, and it never happened. Sure, Mom and Dad called me, “Bud,” but Moms’ and Dads’ nicknames don’t count. Sister Shannon dubbed me, “Shane-pole,” in reference to my minute stature. But that was less a nickname then a sibling insult. No matter what I tried- dropping hints, printing names on jerseys- nothing stuck. My barber in Lexington would say, every time I came in the shop, “Hey there, Preacher.” I don’t think he actually knew my name, but it was good enough for me. So feel free to just call me “Preacher.”

Waaay back in the day, there was a theory about naming: a child’s name could predict the kind of person that child would become. So when Isaac named Jacob (which means “supplanter”), it foreshadowed his supplanting Esau, the older brother. In other words, the ancients believed there’s something powerful in the act of naming. Nicknames continue that tradition. My favorite basketball team has a player named DeMarcus Cousins. Teammates say he’s a humorous, kind-hearted guy…off the court. On the court, DeMarcus becomes “Big Cuz,” and Big Cuz is an all-business, rough-playing power forward. It’s like the nickname brings a new personality; it has the power to transform.
Here is the beginning of my post.

Another ancient tradition of naming was that, when you knew another’s name, you held power over that person. In other words, naming has the power both to transform you, or control you. Exodus tells a story of Moses working as a shepherd. One day, he’s out with the sheep alone, when God starts a fire in a nearby bush, and begins speaking, “Moses, set my people free.” Moses says, “Who should I tell them sent me?” God responds, “Tell them the LORD sent you.” “The LORD?” “Yeah, it means, ‘I AM WHO I AM.’” Religious journalist Karen Armstrong contends that’s like a Biblical joke; God telling Moses, “Do what I say; my name belongs to me.” For millennia since, many observant Jews will not pronounce the LORD’s name. For it is so Holy and sacred, and we should never presume to control God.

But whether the faithful would utter God’s name or not, when God claimed, “I AM WHO I AM,” God revealed something powerful. God’s people now had a label to hold onto; God had let down some of the veil surrounding God’s mysterious presence. As Israel’s sages understood, this didn’t mean that everything about the divine was suddenly clear. But they learned it’s in our God’s nature to reveal Godself; God desires to be known. And as the Moses story also contends, in receiving God’s self-revelation, we are liberated, or as Jesus put it, “the truth shall set you free.”

Now I can’t say this from experience, but I imagine that finding just the right name for an expected child is a fun part of preparing for parenthood. What will this name say about my child? Will it inhibit them, or set them free? Will it connect her to her heritage, and still help her feel unique and special? As names are explored, tried on, discarded, traded between parents, they participate in that ageless naming ritual. And even without saying so aloud, we know this act is powerful and profound.

For millennia, the Christian Church has participated in this process. With all due respect for Mary and Joseph’s original decision, we’ve given Jesus many different names- Wonderful Counselor, Righteous Branch, Lion of Judah- and these names shape our understanding of God. Indeed, because Jesus is God’s self-revelation to Christians, how we understand Jesus’ many names impacts the liberating freedom we and our neighbors receive in Christ.

So this Advent, we will explore the “Names of the Expected Child.” Like Mary and Joseph, we’ll prepare for Jesus’ birth by sorting through the many names he’s been given over the centuries. Some will be familiar; some may be new discoveries to you. But they’ve all participated in that basic fact of God’s self-revelation in Jesus- The more we know about the truth of God, the more we, and this world, is set free. That’s what’s in a name when it’s God’s name. In all things,

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Friday, November 13, 2009

Pray Without Ceasing…

That quote (from 1 Thess. 5:17) was the theme of the 2009 National Council of Churches Annual Assembly, which met in Minneapolis this week. They chose our state because Rev. Peg Chamberlin, of MN Council of Churches fame, is the new President of the NCC. Her charge- Project Minnesota Nice onto a national stage! Well, maybe not exactly… Still, I thought it worthwhile to think about the NCC this week, and especially their Annual Assembly’s theme.

“Pray without ceasing” strikes me as a noble goal, though perhaps unrealistic. Who has time, really, to pray without ceasing? I barely remember to say grace over lunch, or “Goodnight, Jesus,” when I hit the hay. Without ceasing?! Fat chance. But Paul was a smart guy. So presumably, when he wrote those words, he meant something different than, “Speak only and always to God, and no one else!”

It reminds me of a 16th century spiritual classic, Practicing the Presence of God. It’s a small book, and easy to read, so I recommend it to all. What it describes so beautifully is the pure simplicity of God’s grace-filled presence. The author is Brother Lawrence, a French monk of no rank. He wasn’t an abbot, or famous scholar; just a cook in his simple monastery, and a potato peeler. But he understood the depths, and simplicity, of spiritual living. He wrote, “We can do little things for God; I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for love of (God)…It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God…Is it not quicker and easier (to enter God’s presence) just (by doing) our common business wholly for the love of God?” Good stuff. While peeling potatoes, he tried to pray without ceasing.

But even if becoming aware of God’s presence is that simple, simplicity can be hard work. Just ask anyone who’s tried to ‘simply’ her/his life by cleaning out a cluttered house. Simplicity is tough! I guess that’s why Brother Lawrence uses the term ‘practice.’ You don’t get it right away.

This past Monday marked the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I’m sure you saw news coverage. For a people with as long a history as Germans, national unity sounds simple. But we know that tearing down that wall was hard work, for Europeans, for Americans, but most especially for Germans themselves.

I heard about a Lutheran Pastor, Rev. Christian Fuhrer, who ministered in Leipzig, East Germany at the time. He described how, for almost eight years, his church held Prayer Vigils for Peace. They prayed to re-unify their broken country, but to do so without recreating the violence of their country’s recent past, or of their communist authorities. For some time, the state overlooked these Prayer Meetings. But as years went on and pressures, both external and internal, intensified, the secret police increased surveillance. Random arrests would occur outside the church, in an effort to intimidate Rev. Fuhrer to stop. But he posted names of the arrested on the church door, and prayed without ceasing. On October 9, 1989, 70,000 gathered for a prayerful peace demonstration. Police forces assembled to harass and provoke the protestors, but they chanted, “No Violence,” marched to the city center non-violently, and prayed without ceasing. A month later, the wall fell. Rev. Fuhrer describes it as a “miracle of Biblical proportions. We succeeded in bringing about a revolution which achieved Germany’s unity. This time without war and military might.”

When I think about why groups like the National Council of Churches are important, I guess that’s it. When Christians get together to pray and pay witness to God’s love, great things can happen. Walls fall down, families are fed, lives transform. It can be as simple as praying without ceasing. Or more especially, praying together without ceasing. With so much pressure these days for Christians to worship in isolation, or just not believe we can change things for the better, folk like the NCC need to keep working. And praying. Without ceasing. And we should pray with them. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane

P.S.- Next Tuesday, the Board meets. If you’ve yet to answer their recent question, “Why does Plymouth Creek need to exist,” please email me by next Tuesday, and I’ll pass your thoughts along. Thanks!
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Friday, November 6, 2009

One Body…

I grew up Episcopal, as you may know. It’s a neat church, which, if you’ve never been, Robin Williams famously described as, “Catholic Light.” My Episcopal priest buddies, Revs. Callahan and Haverkamp, would laugh at that, and then say, “Shane, there’s a lot more to it.” And they’d be right, but it’s still funny.

I’ve been thinking of them recently, ever since the October 20th developments between Episcopals (aka- the American branch of “The Worldwide Anglican Communion”) and Roman Catholics. The Catholic Church announced it will now allow Anglicans to become Catholic (“enter into full communion”), but keep their churches, Anglican worship elements, even married priests. Also, Rome will appoint permanent leadership for these Anglican-Catholic churches and priests, allowing them to self-perpetuate as Anglicans within the Catholic Church. It’s a stunning change. Some Anglicans claim they’ve waited decades for this; many others feel offended, like another church is ‘fishing in their pond.

As an ex-Episcopal, this interests me more than most. And one part of me dismisses it as a family tussle between estranged siblings. But I’m a Disciple of Christ; my church’s fundamental claim and identity is Christian Unity. We care about other things, of course, but we’d cease being Disciples if we stopped worrying about a unified Body of Christ. So I can’t just ignore this news, which feels like a step away from real Unity.

The background, as the Vatican press release states, is a 16th Century split between Rome and the Anglican Church. Over intervening centuries, there’ve been reconciliation attempts, but no re-merger has occurred. Indeed, many Anglicans/Episcopals enjoy worshipping as they do- outside Rome’s authority and tradition, but grateful recipients of its ancient ecclesiastical wisdom. However, in recent decades, an(other) internal fight has bubbled up within the Anglican Communion, threatening to split the church. I don’t know how Rome responded to such divisions before, but this time it weighed in. It created this ‘Anglican Ordinance,’ purportedly in response to Anglicans who’ve asked, “To return home.”

News reports claim, about the Anglican Communion’s strife, that the warring factions only care about women’s and gay ordination, gay marriage, and abortion. I.e. it’s American Culture Wars, fought globally. And the Vatican’s recent Press Release plays into this narrative by singling out these issues as legitimate grounds for their new behavior.

I find that story incomplete, however, for at least two reasons: 1) Internal dissent and debate have always characterized Christian life together, i.e. these so-called ‘culture wars’ are nothing new or newsworthy; just read 2 Corinthians. 2) These fights are always deeper than one social issue or another, however simple or politically advantageous it is to pretend otherwise. What’s really at stake, I think, is how much freedom people have to follow Jesus in unique ways, and the pressure we all feel from changing cultural dynamics that embolden or threaten our faith and worship. That’s deep stuff! How churches respond to this stuff matters in deep places! So as churches explore evolving strategies for reaching this contemporary world with God’s message of eternal love, it’s no wonder battles lines get drawn, and proxy wars arise. Even Christians, of all ideological persuasions, get tempted to elevate power and control over love and understanding.

But again, I’m a Disciple of Christ. My fundamental conviction is- a) Jesus is Lord, and b) see above. With that baseline, I think Unity is possible, despite ongoing fights, because (Disciples insist) neither you nor I define whose claim of “Jesus is Lord” really counts. Jesus has the final say; we’re simply called to love God and neighbor. So, with all due respect to my Catholic sisters and brothers in Christ, I worry their recent changes harm Christian Unity, by encouraging rivals in another church to abandon each other during difficult times, rather than work for deeper understanding and relationship.

So, given this context, what would it look like for Disciples to work for Christian Unity? No answers today; just questions I find vexing and important. I look forward to your thoughts, whether they agree with mine or not. In all things,


Grace and Peace,
Shane

P.S.- Check out Adult SS for the next few weeks; DVD-series of America’s leading “Historical Jesus” scholars!
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Sunday, November 1, 2009

Like a blanket…

The other morning, I woke up to a sheet of snow covering the ground. Unexpectedly, I got real excited. It was the first snow of the year, and it wasn’t much. Just a dusting, which by the day’s end had become ground water. But its abrupt appearance made me smile. Not because I love coldness; the snow brought to mind wonderful memories of snowy seasons past (especially on ski slopes!).

All Saints Day is this month, and the Holiday season begins. So ‘memories’ will be a reoccurring theme- in our personal and religious lives together. I wish these memories were all as good as those that recently bounced through my mind. At least in Hollywood’s version of life, Holidays should bring only joy and peace, not heartache and longing. I like that version. But we know that too many Thanksgiving tables will be one person less full this year. Too many parents will see Christmas shopping ads that remind them of a job lost. And the whole idea of All Saints Day is to ‘celebrate’ beloved champions of the faith who’ve gone to their final rest. It’s a joyous service, for many churches, filled with memories of profound legacies left behind. But it’s never just that simple. Sometimes happiness and pain are two sides of the same emotion.



Do you remember the Greek myth of Persephone? The story goes that Persephone was a beautiful young woman, who attracted even the attention of Hades, the reclusive God of the Underworld. Hades, known for neither charm nor gentlemanly behavior, found Persephone wandering in a flower patch alone. So he stole her away to be Queen of the Underworld. But Persephone was, shall we say, well connected. Her mother was Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, and Demeter wasn’t pleased with Hades’ actions. She persuaded Zeus, King of the Gods, to secure Persephone’s release, but Hades’ tricks weren’t finished. He gave Persephone Pomegranate seeds, which, when ingested, linked her to the Underworld forever. She had no choice now but to return to Hades’ side four moths every year, during which time, in protest of her daughter’s fate, Demeter would refuse to let anything grow. Thus, we have winter, and annually Earth enters a cycle of death and rebirth, ‘enacting’ Persephone’s journey into the Underworld and back again.

So please don’t give me pomegranate juice for Christmas. And perhaps take some time, as winter approaches, to ponder the cycles of this life that God still sustains. As leaves fall and snow builds up, it’s obvious how, yearly, Nature moves back around on itself. The church also uses winter’s onset to conclude and reinitiate our yearly cycle, of remembrance and praise. Officially, the Church Calendar ends around Thanksgiving, and our ‘New Year’ begins the last Sunday of November, with the advent of Advent. During this yearly cycle, the same stories are retold, memories of ages past are re-membered.

But here’s the key- Even as we participate in this yearly circle of life and story, it’s NOT the same ritual being enacted year after year. For each year, we proclaim, is one year closer to that glorious time when God’s Reign on Earth will be whole and complete, when all family tables and coffers will be full enough, when “Life” and “Love” replace “Self” as primary values of human society. So while we commemorate stories of God’s faithfulness through time, these stories aren’t told solely to give hope for Spring. Unlike Persephone’s tale, we contend that they way things are are NOT the way things will always be. God remains faithful as the seasons. And that faithfulness helps Christians understand that God won’t be satisfied until all life is valued, redeemed and covered with joy. Christ was born for this.

So as one church year ends, and another begins, recall the stories of saints who’ve come and gone, and of God’s faithful presence through the ages. May that empower us, then, to step forward into the New Year recommitted to God’s Reign and God’s work, so that next year will look a bit more like God’s heaven in our midst.

And don’t forget a coat. In all things,


Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Friday, October 30, 2009

Boo…

Sorry to scare you, but I’ve been getting in the Halloween mood. Yes, I have a costume. Or more specifically, a wig. You just may see it again in Halloweens to come. As an environmentalist, I think it’s my duty to purchase a sustainable costume that I can return to. And it’s really a good wig!

Y’all might remember that I attended a Dutch Reformed High School. They had a particular way of celebrating Halloween, and by ‘they,’ I mean the Bible Teacher, Mr. Zylstra. Kids would come to school dressed up, and Mr. Z would excitedly walk the halls, saying, “Happy Reformation Day!” Freshmen would always ask, “What’s he talking about? It’s Halloween.” Seniors would respond, “Mr. Z’s a church history nut.” And the festivities would continue.


Apparently, Mr. Z’s plan worked. To this day, I can’t think about Halloween without saying, somewhere deep within, “Happy Reformation Day! ” So I wanted you to share that joy with me.

Here’s the story of “Reformation Day.” Martin Luther was a 16th century German monk, Biblical Scholar and really intense guy. Really, really intense guy, whose deep spirituality led him to frequent questioning of the religion he practiced, as well as acts of self-mortification. It’s said that once he sat in an ice-cold river for thirty minutes, naked, to punish himself for sinful thoughts and tendencies. Really intense guy. But Martin Luther was deeply committed to his faith. And the more he compared his expanding Biblical understanding with the workings of his church’s bureaucracy, Luther got concerned.

He lived in a northeastern German town named Wittenberg. One day, a man, Johann Tetzel, showed up raising funds for the Papacy’s newest project- the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica. His efforts were in keeping with Church doctrine at the time, which claimed that faith was not sufficient to merit God’s forgiveness (and entrance into paradise), but that good living and faithful support of the Church were also required. One way of achieving the latter was through donations, and marketers like Tetzel would solicit these donations under the term ‘indulgence.’ So if a person bought indulgences, they would help secure God’s favor. But Martin Luther didn’t like this, on social and theological grounds. He questioned the wealthy Pope’s soliciting money from poor people for a project he could fund personally. And besides, the way Luther had come to understand Scripture, it seemed that God, mysteriously, did not require goodness on our part to redeem humanity. God had already done the work and invited us into intimate fellowship through Jesus’ life and death. All we needed was to muster the faith to say, “Yes, Lord. I’ll follow you.”

So Luther composed a list of questions, the famed 95 theses, which laid out his complaints. On October 31st, 1517, he nailed that list to the door of Wittenberg’s Cathedral. This occurred during a time of revolutionary change in communication technology- the printing press had been invented- so within weeks, pamphlets of Luther’s questions saturated Europe. The effect was that people from all over came to share Luther’s concerns about the Church, and the Reformation Movement began, which continues still. Hence, Reformation Day.

To be fair, there’s a LOT more to that story that deserves careful nuance and consideration (i.e. say, “No” to Catholic bashing), but the broad outlines are worth pondering this Halloween. We’re in the midst of revolutionary technological change, and so, like people in Luther’s day, we have remarkable means to communicate bold ideas and form world-changing relationships with diverse people. As in Luther’s day, many fear the disorienting effect these changes will bring. But the deep lesson of Reformation Day, I believe, is that God remains faithful to people who put faith in God, and God will guide God’s people into creative new ways of loving ourselves and our neighbors if we muster the courage of faith to say, “Yes, Lord. I will follow.” So Happy Reformation Day! May you find renewed faith to follow our Lord Jesus, and step boldly into an unknown future secure that the Hand which fashioned this world still holds you closer then you could possibly imagine. In all things,


Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Friday, October 23, 2009

You, you got what I need…

My mother recently reminded me of a childhood experience that I figured you’d appreciate. When I was in sixth grade, I had a rough go of things. Academically, everything was fine (well, except handwriting, which has remained at first grade levels). But otherwise, my school just wasn’t working out. And the prospect of continuing in that school system loomed darkly. Many children in America, of course, expect only bad things their local schools. Too many. But one of the privileges of my life was that my family had the option of enrolling me somewhere new, which they did. It was a God-send. I’d wanted out, and was grateful that Mom and Dad fulfilled that desire.

Fast forward five years, and I’d encountered more turmoil at school. So I wanted out again, and found a program that would let me skip my last year of high school, and get a head start on college. This time, Mom and Dad said, “No.” They didn’t do what I wanted. They said that I needed to stick around, and finish what I’d started. I wasn’t happy at the time. But in retrospect, it was the right decision. The program was expensive. I needed to learn important lessons by staying the course. Fortunately, Mom and Dad understood that what the family needed and what I needed outweighed what I wanted, this time around.


I think God works like that; God looks at people and communities and assesses what our needs are versus our wants. Where those conflict, count on God to implore that we sacrifice our wants for our and our neighbors’ needs. Where those match up, you’ve found what religious sages call, “Vocation.” You might imagine this process of ‘matching up’ wants with needs is entirely natural, no spiritual input needed; a matter of personal introspection coupled with clear-eyed evaluation of the world around you. But religious truth suggests there’s more involved- namely, God’s evaluation and God’s ‘call.’ We religious folk contend that God puts in God’s two cents about which wants and needs are appropriate or complimentary, and that God’s two cents are more valuable than ours. For God sees to the heart of things better than we ever could. So we’d do ourselves well to continually discern what God sees, to listen for what God’s ‘calling’ us to hear, and put those divine suggestions into practice.

What’s true for individuals, in this case, is also true for groups. All groups (families, churches, neighborhoods) have wants and needs, including the need to set priorities or seek creative solutions. Sometimes, we do this very well. Other times, we neglect needs because we’re too concerned with fulfilling our wants. Usually, it’s a mix of both. So regularly evaluating where we’re at, in terms of hearing God’s ideas about our community’s wants and needs, just makes good sense.

The Church Board believes this, and wants all Plymouth Creekers to help out. I asked them a question recently, which I’d been asked by a leader in our denomination, and that I found myself greatly excited to answer. That question was, “Why does your church need to exist?” Provocative, eh? So the Board discussed this, discovered some great insights, and decided we wanted everyone’s input. Thus, last Sunday, and again this Sunday, we’re asking worshippers to write down their best answers to this question, and place them in the Offering Plate (or email me!). You could describe how your needs are met, or how you meet others needs through church, or needs in our community that PCCC uniquely fills. Whatever you see, whatever ‘call’ you’ve discerned, let us know. We’ve persisted thirty years now and counting, i.e. God sees needs we help meet. And the Board wants to hear everyone’s impressions about what those are. In fact, if we’re going to do a good job leading our church forward, we need to hear those impressions. For God doesn’t just call out to one person or another in a church. God is still speaking to all of us. Hopefully, in this way and many more, we can share with each other what we’re hearing. Plymouth needs it.

Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Friday, October 16, 2009

This I Believe…

If you read the newsletter closely, you know we’re encouraging folk to join a congregation-wide project. We want everyone to write 350-500 words about why Christian faith matters to them.

It’s fashioned after the recent NPR series “This I Believe,” which in turn borrowed the idea from 1950’s Newsman Extraordinaire, Edward R. Murrow. The reason for this project is simple- sharing what you believe is HARD. We learned from reading Unbinding the Gospel that the biggest barrier folk have to sharing faith is finding what to say in the first place. Faith feels too close and personal to put into words. So we’re challenging ourselves to overcome that barrier, using “This I Believe” as a template.


The rules are easy: 1) Write350-500 words about what you believe, 2) Make it a story- not a sermon or list of beliefs, 3) Don’t try to say everything; pick one thing personal and specific. We hope to feature these weekly and anonymously (so don’t be nervous!!). And we pray this practice encourages more faith sharing, fosters greater intimacy in the church family, and helps us, by looking through each other’s eyes, know God better. Our first offering was in last week’s bulletin (Thanks!), and this week’s cWeeksider. But since I’m asking, I felt pressure to add my own:

I believe in mystery. I believe mystery resides deep in the heart of Christian faith. Or at least deep in my heart. It took awhile in my life of faith to make mystery a priority. I guess I once hoped that God could be fully understood, or proven, or held completely in mind. But then I met Dr. Wedell.

Dr. Wedell taught a class my senior year of college called, “The Idea of God.” Our major class assignment was to write thirty pages about what we, individually, believed about God. I’d grown up involved in church, so I thought my ideas of God were pretty well fixed and secure. But when I turned in the first ten pages, they returned covered in red ink. “Have you considered this…,” Dr. Wedell wrote. “I’m not sure that fits with the other thing you wrote.” And so on. It was a massacre. I began again.

Three days before the final paper was due, I walked into Dr. Wedell’s office panicking. We talked through my confused thoughts; I’d become aware, by now, that much of what I once considered certain and sacred now seemed wholly unbelievable. After fifteen minutes, tears began flowing. I cried, shaking with drama and angst, “I have nothing to say about God! I still believe, but have no clue any more who God is.” Dr. Wedell, rather than snidely write me off as a troubled young man, paused thoughtfully. Then he said, “Shane, I wonder if that’s what St. Paul meant when he wrote, ‘We are saved by faith alone.’ Maybe just knowing you have faith is enough.”

Those words suddenly became my words. My prayer. “God, I’m certain you’re out there. I think. Let my silent faith be enough.” Somehow, it seemed, that was enough. It was alright. Maybe it was preferable that I couldn’t prove or fully justify my faith. Faith still anchored me in some deep place. Mysteriously, faith remained my center.

Since then, I’ve learned new words to describe God. They seem adequate, for now. But that respect for the power of mystery in understanding God, which I learned in Dr. Wedell’s office, that remains central. Now I crave experiences when words don’t even pretend to capture everything. When prayer flows with little to no forethought, and becomes quickly overcome by something I can only describe as Spirit. As I’ve reflected more on Dr. Wedell’s Office, it seems like something happened similar to what ancient sages called ‘humility.’ Or ‘the fear of the LORD.’ Something. I’m still learning. But I no longer think one day I’ll finally ‘get it,’ discover the skeleton key. After all, it seems God has touched people all over the world for all time in all sorts of ways. How? That’s the ultimate mystery. I pray for the humility to respect that. Or rather, to celebrate that unbelievably-believable mystery.

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Friday, October 9, 2009

Be Something You Love…

Remember the 1994 movie Forrest Gump? Great movie (and great soundtrack!). I love how it turns one simple man’s story into an epic adventure. Call it an uninhibited celebration of ordinary life. If you haven’t seen it, rent it. We can watch it together!

The main character, Forrest, though he grew up with leg braces, is quite the runner. He played football at Alabama University because of his speed. He used his running talent to save people in Vietnam. And one day, near the movie’s end, he bumps into the woman he’s loved since childhood, Jenny (pronounced J-eh-eh-knee). Long story short, she breaks his heart. Simple man that he is, Forrest takes a run. And he runs. And he runs.


And he runs.

All across the country.

And back.

And back again.

And he keeps running.

He doesn’t stop for “three years, two months, fourteen days and sixteen hours.” During that time, he unintentionally inspires a HUGE following. It begins with one guy thinking this running-across-America thing is quite groovy. More join in, and more still; all following Forrest, mile after mile. Until, in the middle of what looks like New Mexico, Forrest stops running. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll go home now,” he says, as he walks through his followers, parting down the center like the Red Sea. Someone yells, “Now what’re we supposed to do?” Forrest says nothing. He just goes home.

It’s funny what inspires us, amen? I once heard a guy interviewed who grew up loving electronics. For some unknown reason, he decided to learn all about pay phones, eventually figuring out how to make long distance calls on them for free. So he called…the Pope, pretending to be Harry Kissinger. The Pontiff’s personal assistant figured out the ruse after thirty minutes, but the guy wasn’t deterred. Steve Jobs co-founded Apple Computers, and makes a decent living. All because, randomly, he was inspired by electronics.

Inspiration has made its way into recent sermons and letters; maybe you’ve noticed. It’s been on my mind, and that’s because I think Christian living should be inspired living- living with purpose and mission. What that looks like for each of us isn’t always clear, especially when life goes through changes. But I don’t think we should ever give up searching for that little something that inspires us.

Unlike the runners of Forrest Gump, though, Christian inspiration has a distinct purpose. Jesus described it in Matthew 23:37-40, “Love the LORD your God…and love your neighbor as yourself.” But Jesus isn’t Forrest, running away from the past to put the pain behind him. Jesus leads us toward something- namely, the Reign of God, where unconditional, overwhelming love rule the day every day. As his followers, we run after him toward this glorious Reign, both receiving divine love in fuller measure every step, and sharing it with everyone we pass, inviting them to join in.

Every year, running inspires Plymouth Creekers to follow Jesus and love our neighbors. Walking actually, but close enough. I mean the annual CROP Walk, of course, or what I often call the Plymouth Creek Victory Celebration (since we’re always the top fundraiser!). I’m not exactly sure why CROP Walk, which fights hunger from our doorsteps to the ends of the earth, inspires us so much, but it does. Other things inspire us to pursue God’s Reign too, of course, but the CROP Walk’s worth mentioning because it’s this Sunday, October 11, when, as in years past, we’ll walk/jog/run after our Lord on a mission. If you’re walking, thanks for getting inspired. If you’re not, thanks for your support. Walking may be simple stuff, but that’s how the Reign of God happens- God’s overwhelming love inspires ordinary life. May this walk help you live inspired. In all things,

Grace and Peace,

Shane

PS- If you still want to support our walking, go to the Church World Service Web Site. Click “Find Your Walk”, look for the MN NW Suburbs walk and click donate (or just follow this link). Search for team “Plymouth Creek.” And viola!

PPS- If you have family/friends who might want to help, pass along this letter. Thanks to all!
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Sunday, October 4, 2009

Some strange symbolism…

I did it. I’m a lemming. A sheep. And you know what? I don’t care! If I had it to do over, I’d do it sooner. I hope we can still be friends. But I thought you should know- I read Dan Brown’s new novel.

Maybe, just maybe you don’t know what I’m talking about. Perhaps one or two of you haven’t heard that Dan Brown, (in)famous author of the 2003 smash hit novel The Da Vinci Code, has FINALLY published another book. I was in seminary when Da Vinci came out, and the blowback was stupendous. Multiple professors spent entire class periods giving unannounced lectures on the theological and historical inaccuracies of the novel (my seminary took itself a bit too seriously, at times). Across the nation, both theological liberals and conservatives joined forces in condemning this “appalling work of absolute fiction”, albeit for different reasons. All this attention did exactly what the publisher hoped for: I got interested enough to read it.

I’m glad I did. It was a fun book. Not very careful about church history, but entertaining. A buddy of mine, after I finished Da Vinci, lent me two of Brown’s earlier novels, and I devoured those as well. So when I heard recently that another Dan Brown adventure, titled The Lost Symbol, was out, I got it, and within a week my Dan Brown fix was fixed.

The book, you should know, doesn’t have those mind-blowing speculations about Christianity that made The Da Vinci Code controversial. But there’s stuff that will get folk a bit heated, which is partly why I like these stories. They get folk thinking about religion. Being a pastor, that makes me happy. Surprise, surprise. Also, they encourage folk to think about religion in atypical ways. I like that too, despite my hesitations with Dan Brown’s theology. My reason for that is I think we often struggle to keep our thinking about God and religion from turning stale. That goes for both churchgoers and the church averse. With all that’s going on in our lives, it’s easy to get afflicted with the “I believe what I believe and that’s all there is to it” syndrome. People stop searching for fresh insight. Curiosity about God diminishes. Wonder and mystery lose their fascination. So I love it when something pops up that sparks new thinking about God. It could be a book, movie, an archeological find; it might challenge, or reinforce, fundamental beliefs. Whatever the case, when folk start re-exploring religious stuff, I believe that opens space for the Spirit to enter in and get to work.

Which relates, interestingly, to the book’s title, The Lost Symbol. Religion and symbols go together. But there’s a difference with the symbols in a puzzle (Brown’s specialty) and those used in religious worship. To the religious, a ‘symbol’ is more than a metaphor, more than a picture that represents something else. A religious ‘symbol’ takes a faithful person beyond herself into the presence of something greater. Religious symbols invite folk to interact with, and not just look at, that which is symbolized. So when I call Jesus, “King,” I mean more than, “Jesus is like royalty.” That symbol invites me to recognize and accept Jesus’ lordship over life. When I call God “Mother” or “Father,” I’m more than describing God. I’m acknowledging the very real relationship I can have with my Divine Parent. And remember, God is so great, no one symbol says everything there is to say. So it’s important we use multiple symbols to speak of God. We don’t want to worship an idea of God, or one symbol, in God’s place. Still, what’s cool is when we seek to speak more creatively about God, God’s Spirit shows up.

Regardless, Dan Brown books are fun adventures. If you plan to read it, I got a copy you can borrow. We can chat about it after, explore the symbols and plot twists together. If you don’t read it, I pray you’re finding something else to nurture your wonder about the God we serve. And that we all discover new symbols to describe our limitless Lord. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Thursday, October 1, 2009

Your Ministry…

It’s not every day you see a minister being held upside down while drinking directly from a keg. In fact, I’ve only seen it once myself, but it made a strong impression.

It happened one night during college (of course), and just so there’s no confusion, understand that the keg in question was full of root beer. The college church group I attended threw a “Root Beer Keg Party,” and like other keg parties on campus, spirits and energy levels were high. We danced, told jokes, and at one point in the evening, held our minister, Mark, aloft while counting how many seconds he could drink root beer continuously. Poor Mark. All he wanted was to talk with us about Jesus’ love, and that’s the goofy stuff we put him through. He’ll get to skip up a few places in the line for Heaven, I believe. But strange as it sounds, that night’s events taught me important stuff.

True confession- The Root Beer Keg Party was my idea. I was on the college ministry’s Leadership Team, and had half-jokingly suggested this, as a way to engage our context with a bit of humor. Mark, rather than shoot me down, said, “Let’s explore the idea.” And then he put me in charge of making it happen. This taught me two important rules: 1) Always encourage people to do ministry they feel passionate about (and not just what you’re comfortable with), and 2) The Good News of Jesus Christ can speak in more ways than any of us can imagine. I’m glad Mark taught these lessons. Church would be much duller if every act of ministry was a recycling of earlier ideas. And I doubt it would reach people. Sure, the Kingdom won’t come because a church serves locally brewed root beer. But it didn’t hurt, and maybe even did some good.

That story reminds me of my favorite parts of Sunday morning at Plymouth Creek. Two things pop out. One, the list of worship participants is loooong. Indeed, it’s longer than most churches of a comparable size. Second, number one on that list is always the same, “All Members…Ministers.” Two different things, but a similar point- Plymouth Creek supports shared ministry. Whether it’s how we self-describe, or the many folk who put in time every Sunday, our church hopes that everyone shares the church’s work, and that no one member (or staff person) feel overly responsible for the ministry we do. Everyone is a minister at Plymouth Creek. Everyone can serve, in her or his own way, at the table.

And that means that everyone must be open to activities that seem atypical, or that even feel uncomfortable.

I led a workshop the other week about the many different forms of ministry during Christian History. Some folk, of course, preached and taught. Some were bishops or regional leaders who held oversight responsibility for numerous Christian communities. Most Christians, though, ministered through service. They served meals during worship, or to a sick neighbor. They served the community member who’d recently had a child, or whose spouse passed away. Because time passed, and needs changed as people changed, folk translated Jesus’ Good News into new cultural contexts. And the ministry Christians performed changed one generation to the next. Still, what remained was service- i.e. compassion for one’s neighbor- and so Christian ministry continued.

So I’ve wondered since that workshop, “What are the unique ministries of service our church members perform?” Or maybe the question is better put- What’s your ministry? After all, all Plymouth Creekers are ministers. Some recently organized a game night. Others inspired a CROP Walk. Some painted. Others brought ‘seniors’ together for lunch. A couple folded this newsletter. The list goes on, but it’s never complete. There are more needs in our community than one person or church could meet, and that means we must open our eyes, hearts and hands in service. Maybe root beer doesn’t excite you, but gardening or scrapbooking does. Or something. Whatever it is, let me know, however unique. I’m anxious to serve more and more with you. Plymouth, and the world, needs it. In all things,

Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Sunday, September 27, 2009

That’s some great communion…

Surveys, books, and personal experience all point to something that seems relatively universal these days: many Christians no longer care about denominations. Why that is is a topic for another letter, but I suspect that’s not terribly shocking to read.

For worshippers in this denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), this might be taken as good news. Indeed, we began as an anti-denominational movement in the early 1800’s, and grew faster than any other American Christian tradition through the remainder of that century. Our distinctive, and liberating, message was simple: No Creed but Christ, No Book but the Bible. This slogan reflects the basic principle of our movement- Unity. To this day, we understand our church as a “movement for wholeness in a fragmented world,” something that happens most fully and frequently for us at the Lord’s Table every week during communion.


The irony, of course, is that in the two hundred years of the Stone-Campbell Movement’s existence (so named after our most influential founders), we’ve splintered twice. The first came in the aftermath of the Civil War, when the “Christians” broke with the “Churches of Christ.” The second splinter occurred more slowly, though it began when the “Christian Churches- Independent” first emerged as a distinct group in the first decade of the 20th Century. Our two fellowships grew further apart in subsequent decades until, in 1967, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) intentionally covenanted to become an ‘denomination’ (previously, we were a movement of autonomous, but related churches). Because of that decision, some 700,000 Christians in thousands of churches did not follow.

Sad as these divisions may be, nevertheless all three branches in the Stone-Campbell family still profess an abiding commitment to Christian Unity. We take our cue from Jesus’ great prayer at the end of John’s Gospel, 17:20-21, “I ask...on behalf of those who will believe in me…that they may all be one…so that the world will believe that you have sent me.” In fact, you may know this is why I joined the Disciples. As a teenager, people would ask, “What is your religion?” I always responded, “I’m Christian.” “Yeah, but what kind of Christian?” And I would answer, “Christian is enough for me.” I still believe that, as deeply as I love my particular family of faith. So when it came time for ordination, I learned about these weird folk named “Disciples”, who were a denomination that thought denominations were less important than Unity. I said, “That’s exactly the place for me.”

I share all this because on October 4th,folk from all three branches of the Stone-Campbell Movement from around the country are getting together to declare to one another and the world that Unity is still our Polar Star. We will do this, here in Minnesota, at Valley Christian Church in Lakeville at 4 PM, and I’m helping with the service. The occasion for getting together is the 200th Anniversary of our Movement’s founding moment, when Thomas Campbell signed his groundbreaking Declaration and Address, something I wrote about a couple weeks back. There will be preachers and worship leaders from representatives of all three branches at the service, which will culminate in our celebrating Communion. In fact, the nation-wide commemoration is called The Great Communion.

This excites me. Our three entities still disagree over much, and it’s not likely we’ll merge anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean we’re not one already. All Christian Unity rests on the fact that Jesus invited us first. It is Jesus’ love, sacrifice and grace that makes us One, regardless of the fact we can’t embody that fully in this broken world. So I hope you join me. It shouldn’t be too long of a service. We may even learn something! At the very least, we’ll get to spend time with Christians we don’t often meet with, which is, to my mind, always a blessing. After all, whatever the denomination or title, Christian is still Christian, and that means a lover and friend of Jesus, who we claim is Lord. Call it suppertime with a friend of a Friend. I’ve heard the menu is live-changing. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, September 13, 2009

A Fair Cup o’ Joe

For me, it began in seminary. My parents had switched churches, and one Sunday night Mom calls me. “Shane, check your mailbox for a package this week.” Ummm, okay Mom, what’s coming? “Coffee,” she said. Coffee? Sure enough, I received a small box with two gold bags of coffee that week. Turns out Mom and Dad’s new church sold coffee. It wasn’t Folgers, though. These were sustainably produced, high quality beans from small farmers in Rwanda, who sold through churches because otherwise, shipping costs were too high to allow access to foreign markets (where real profits were possible). Before this church connection, apparently, they sold locally for much less, and barely survived. So I thought, “How cool! Support your church and poor farmers, drink good coffee, and pay less than you would at the store.” I’ve been thirsty to try ever since…

So imagine my joy in January (I think…) when Donna Jarvi brought to our Mission Gathering some printouts from the Disciples of Christ website, which described a new “Disciples Coffee Project.” This project is a joint effort between the denomination’s relief and disaster response organization Week of Compassion and the world’s largest for-profit fair trade organization, Equal Exchange. What happens is that individual churches purchase coffee, tea, chocolate and other fair trade goods from Equal Exchange, and either use the goods themselves, or re-sell them to parishioners and guests (or both).

We are now doing the latter! We’ve set up a display near the Office and stocked it with coffee. There’s a collection box where, on the honor system, folk can buy bags for $6 each (similar to Mt. Olivet Lutheran, just down Rockford). Here’s why I think it’s a great deal-

1) This program offers us great products cheaply. We can pass along those savings to ourselves and our guests. The result is you buy bags of fair trade, organically grown coffee at church for cheaper than local coffee shops, or even Cub Foods. I know. I’ve looked!

2) This could become a fundraiser. During certain seasons, we might add an extra buck to each bag’s price, and give that ‘profit’ to the youth, or CROP Walk, or…. Even in that scenario, we get great coffee as cheap as Cub Foods, while helping the church, and saving a trip to the store.

3) For every pound of coffee or other products purchased through this program, Equal Exchange donates to Week of Compassion. WoC has created a “Hunger Relief and Food Security Fund” to administer fair trade donations. Our EE/WoC/DoC partnership began in January 2008, and by year’s end had yielded $2000, while purchasing of fair trade products in DoC churches doubled. Outlook for 2009, I’m told, is superb growth.

4) When you buy coffee that’s fairly traded and organically produced, you’re supporting small farmers in developing countries who care for God’s earth and desperately need our support. Equal Exchange pays farm co-ops directly. So we pay less for quality products, and poor farmers receive more. Justice and self-interest wrapped into one.

There you have it! You may have waited months for this announcement, or it may be the first time you’ve heard of it. Whatever the case, I’m glad it’s begun. At present, there’s but a small quantity of two types of coffee. We started small to gauge interest and work out the kinks. But rest assured, when all bags are purchased, the church won’t have lost any money. We’ll have made $.70!

So will your family join mine in buying your coffee from the church? It may take time to get used to, but it sends a good message to guests and ourselves about Christian priorities- We want all our resources to contribute to God’s vision of abundant life for all life, which goes as much for our purchases as it does our tithes and offerings. I hope this will only be the beginning of a long conversation about justice and mercy and loving our neighbors with all we can. If you want, I’ll be excited to talk more about it with you. Give me a call. We’ll go get coffee. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, September 6, 2009

Let all the people praise thee…

What was your first job? Mine involved newspapers. My mother had a paper route for a few years; her way of contributing to the family income as a ‘stay-at-home’ Mom. And sister Shannon and I would assist from time to time, crowding in the van to hand Mom papers as she drove. We didn’t get paid, of course. We were just helping out the family. What did get Shannon and me rolling in dough, and thus what I consider my ‘first job,’ began one fateful Thanksgiving. Joe (the boss) asked Mom if Shannon and I would help around the paper warehouse that morning, since Thanksgiving papers are HUGE. He’d pay us 50 bucks if we stayed from 2 AM until 6, and since we knew Mom would’ve dragged us along with her anyway, we jumped at Joe’s offer. Apparently, we done good. He asked us back every Sunday for a couple years. The hours weren’t ideal. But for a teenager, staying up past 3 AM without getting into trouble and getting paid was pretty cool. Jealous?

In August 2009, one of the Disciples of Christ founders quit his first job, with no clue what was next. This was Thomas Campbell- Irish immigrant, lapsed Presbyterian minister, and father of Alexander Campbell (another early Disciples leader). A week ago, I enjoyed a presentation that commemorated Thomas Campbell’s daring decision to quit his first job (in America), and it was beautiful. A performer dressed like you might imagine a Christian minister in 1809- top hat, tails, bowtie both big and awkward. He acted like Thomas Campbell, booming voice with a thick accent. And the story he told, in celebration of its 200th anniversary, is one of Disciples history’s most important.

Stop me if you’ve heard it before. The story goes that Campbell first settled in Pennsylvania. The local Presbyterian association invited Thomas to join, and helped him find work teaching and preaching in that area. But soon Thomas, with all the idealism of immigrants on the early American frontier, came under sanction. He’d served Communion to folk who weren’t Old Light Secessionist Presbyterians, and thus, he’d transgressed church expectations. His choice, then, was A) get back in line or B) quit. Having no prospects beyond faith and hope that he might continue serving God, Campbell quit. He’d decided that all those church schisms he’d seen in Ireland, Scotland and now America were terribly beside the point. Jesus had prayed for his followers, “that they may all be one (Jn 17:21),” and Paul had claimed there is but “one body and one Spirit…one Lord, one faith, one baptism (Eph 4:4-5).” So with some friends, he worked at restoring Christian unity, based on a simple truth that transcends all theological experimentation- Jesus is Lord. In August 1809, he published these thoughts in his Declaration and Address. When it came out, Thomas’ resignation was final. And the “Christian Movement” began. He famously wrote, “The Church of Christ on earth is essentially, intentionally and institutionally one,” and he meant to make that happen!

In hindsight, such unabashed idealism seems naïve. The church remains divided because people need different pathways to approach God’s Holy presence. And this will continue, in one form or another. But the original fervor with which our movement’s founders believed that dissimilar people can and should work and worship together remains impressive, and challenging. Do you seek, in your life of faith, to unite with others? Do you enjoy learning from folk whose language of faith is vastly different from yours? When confronted with conflict or divisiveness, do you strive to overcome by relying on what unites us? Are you tempted to forsake unity for comfort or sameness?

I imagine we answer those questions differently at different points. This week, may we reflect on our founders’ convicting passion for Christian unity, and let it inspire us to try things bold and new. And remember what Thomas Campbell reminds us of- the foundation of all unity- in the final words of the Declaration and Address, quoting Psalm 67:5, “Let the peoples praise thee, O God. Let all the people praise thee.” Amen. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, August 30, 2009

A Summer of Partners and New Activities…

I’ve had an alright summer thus far. One or two big things happened. Last week, I met the head of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). I traveled to Idaho for the first time to perform the wedding of a college friend. I just learned that a different close friend will soon move to MN to pastor a UCC church in Moorehead. Oh, and I got married. But I haven’t yet spent any time at a lake. So I’m taking the good with the bad, you know?

At the church, we had fun things happen too. We welcomed five different preachers to bring us messages while I was off traveling. Thank you, again, for your support this summer. Our joint picnic with Thy Word for Music in Plymouth was a resounding success from all reports. And I was blown away with the thoughtful execution of this summer’s VBS. We may not have the numbers other churches have, but when it comes to good hospitality to youth and children, numbers matter far less than open hearts and courageous adults willing to enter into meaningful relationships. So thanks to those who helped with that work. And let me encourage you all to continue building meaningful inter-generational relationships with each other. Very few places in American society provide space for such important relationships to occur. Church can, and should, do it well.

Which brings me to something else that happened this summer that I personally find very encouraging. We’ve done some new and cool stuff with St. Edward’s the Confessor Episcopal Church and Plymouth Presbyterian. For those who weren’t aware, you should know that our churches have gotten together this summer on a few occasions. It all began with a conversation I had with their pastors/priest last Spring. We each recognized that none of our churches had the size or budget to offer the kind of programming we’d like. But rather than do nothing, we decided to risk a partnership.

It’s been great. Twice a month, during June, July and August, we’ve held Wednesday night Adult Ed “Summer School” sessions. Give Laurie Leonhart a gold star for perfect attendance. Each time, we watched a twenty-minute video, from a series called NOOMA, followed by a short discussion. These DVDs have made huge waves around American churches for the past few years, especially amongst Young Adults. But we learned that age didn’t matter; their superior production quality and meaningful messages sparked wonderful conversations. Also, twice this summer we tried to get our churches’ youth together for some fun and relationship building. The first event was a Frisbee Golf outing, but no one from our partner churches were able to show up. So PCCC cooked some dawgs and tossed the ‘bee, and otherwise had a good time. Just a few days ago, we got together again at Plymouth Presbyterian for a Youth Service Project, and it was awesome. About 15 folk showed up for about two hours of painting logos on reusable bags for the city of Plymouth, who will hand them out with information about the city’s environmental programs and activities. So we were good Christians, citizens, partners and stewards of God’s Earth- at the same time!

All of this exemplifies one of our key missions at Plymouth Creek- Partnership. And we do this very well, from our established partnerships with Yellow Brick Road and Thy Word, to our emerging partnerships with Plymouth Pres and St. Ed’s, to our occasional partnering with Plymouth Creek Elementary. This church understands the value of working together, which I believe derives from our coming together every week at the Lord’s Table. We constantly remind ourselves that hospitality is something that, first and foremost, we receive from God. Thus, it’s only natural we share it with and receive it from others too. Thanks for your ongoing commitment to the many partnerships we’re forging. And please, keep looking for other partnerships we could begin, and let me know. I’d be glad to help you help our church enter into deeper, more life-giving partnerships with our neighbors. I seem to remember Jesus saying something positive once about something like that…

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, August 23, 2009

Fresh Air from the Past…

The other day, I ate with a kind, thoughtful man who eclipsed me in age, and he made a claim similar to others I’ve heard before. “Young man, I grew up in a very different world than you.” We were talking about broccoli and grocery stores, but this observation applies to much more. My mother did not learn computers until receiving a college degree in computer programming in her thirties. Because of that knowledge, I grew up thinking digitally. My grandmother remembered “Whites Only” signs at local stores. I don’t. She also remembered nights of culinary ingenuity during the Great Depression, when a tasty dinner appeared- somehow, someway. I was ‘privileged’ to grow up believing that eating ‘only’ McDonald’s was a downgrade. McDonald’s was still a dream in Grandma’s youth..

The point is my generation grew up in a different world than my father’s, and he his father’s, and…well, I wonder how far back that goes. I suspect every generation has something unfamiliar to comment on in subsequent generations. Sometimes it’s a lament, “Oh, how I miss the old days.” Sometimes it’s a celebration, “I’m glad that doesn’t happen anymore.” Sometimes it’s just an observation, “Life sure is different now.”

Our denomination is now dealing with a unique kind of old/new dynamic: We’ve just resurrected an idea from the past as a ‘fresh solution’ to a changing world. At General Assembly a few weeks back, our church voted to endorse ordination for some folk who have not gone to seminary. Like I said, it’s an old idea, but to many, it sounds strange and new.

Now, by “endorse,” I don’t mean that seminary has become unimportant or superfluous. Far from it. Seminary education is still the default path for ministerial preparation. However, the world has changed since the 50’s, when seminary education first became mandatory for Disciples of Christ pastors. These days more and more ministers are second-career students, with families they can’t uproot for three years to go to school. The debt load many seminarians must now assume is difficult, and for many impossible. Our denomination has seen wonderful growth in Latino and Asian congregations, but seminary training in the US occurs, of course, in English. What all this means is still up for debate, but it seems we were due for an update. And so we went with the oldest of solutions- Mentors.

I say ‘old’ because that’s what Jesus did. He spent a great deal of time training leaders, those whom we now call “the 12 Apostles.” In fact, I believe that Jesus’ work of mentoring his inner circle was more effective for the future of his movement than any other act outside the resurrection. Seriously. So by endorsing a path to ordination that substitutes seminary with mentorship, we’re emulating an effective model.

Such ministers will still, of course, require training and education, just like the first disciples. But their learning focus will occur in practical settings- with congregations or college groups or other places for ministry- rather than primarily with books and professors. There will be those too, but they will be secondary. Every Region has freedom to design their own programs, but there are “competency areas” every candidate must address. And, of course, the Spirit will continue to call and lead.

I have intelligent friends in ministry who like this change much less than I. Fair enough. As a Disciples of Christ member, I accept that my interpretation is just that, mine, and therefore it is limited. I’d be interested to hear your thoughts on this important topic. Indeed, this vote may be the most important our church has taken in the past three decades. But whether you think this is a good idea or not, we can agree on one thing: the old has become new again.

Oh, and we can agree on this too- Whether or not these changes help our church step more boldly and faithfully into the future, the God of all who loves all will be with us when that future comes. And if I know God, what God’s going to do in that future will be…amazing. In all things,


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, August 16, 2009

Changing Scenery…

Things look a bit different, eh? We’ve talked about shifting furniture in the Narthex…excuse me, the Welcome Center, for a long time now, and it’s finally happened. Consider this your brief orientation.

We did this for one basic reason- Mission. In revitalizing our spaces for the Adopt-A-Room Program, we wanted to equip our church for mission as best we can. So we’ve freshened up the office, education and choir spaces to make them better organized, more attractive and functional. And the same is true for what we are now calling “The Welcome Center”- we equipped it for mission, which is especially important since no room in the church gets used for mission more. This is where Child Care parents drop off and pick up children; where both churches gather to greet guests and one another; where we prepare for and respond to worship. It’s also where ALL our kids and grandkids spread their wings and are joyful together. Given this high volume, it is the best space we have to communicate our mission and values. This is a blessing, demanding good stewardship, so we took months to plan. Here are some thoughts.


The word “Narthex” means something to churchfolk, but sounds like a code word to guests. If we’re serious about hospitality to neighbors, we must think about church from an outsider’s perspective. ‘Code’ can be intimidating. So let’s use hospitable sounding words, and ones that describe the space- “Welcome Center.” Bonus- this reminds us of our mission when we talk to each other!

A focused space (church) is an effective space (church). So we focused the Welcome Center into different regions, which we all must help to maintain and utilize. These regions are:

Hospitality Center- On the right, as you enter, we have a new Hospitality Desk. This Hospitality Center is large enough for guests to pause and have good conversations with Greeters. We will craft updated literature to give out, and are updating our Hospitality Strategy too. So, on August 30th, after service, we are hosting a Greeters Training. Please come, if you have been a Greeter, OR IF YOU WANT TO JOIN THIS IMPORTANT MINISTRY!

Mission Center- On the left, as you enter, we will highlight each month’s mission focus, as well as keep receptacles for food or other donations. Further, we are beginning a fair-trade coffee ‘store,’ whose proceeds will support Week of Compassion. I’ll talk more about that later, but for now, know that soon you will be able to purchase fair-trade, high quality coffee at the church- for less than at Cub!

Church Life Center -Where the coat rack once was, we will have a Fellowship Desk with info about current programs, sign-up sheets, etc. This Church Life Center will also serve as reception space for members and guests to fellowship. Please, as you use the space, be deferential to those whose bodies and joints may require rest more than yours!

Partnership Center- Where the coat rack is now will be used for coats (of course!), and as an information center for Thy Word. One of the difficulties in sharing space is a mixing of messaging and identities. So we’re providing Thy Word a dedicated place in the Welcome Center to inform members and guests of church activities and mission. Also, we’re putting back the Lost and Found!

There’s more, certainly, like repainting in coming days. And as a work in progress, I encourage you to bring me suggestions for improvement. Again, let’s thank Laurie, Donna, and Al, among others, for their brilliant ideas and hard work! Finally, please remember that the Welcome Center also serves to move folk into and out of our Sanctuary. So as you use this space in new ways, be mindful of our mission of hospitality. There are folk moving around, especially guests and visitors. Things are now well placed for you to welcome and get to know guests, introduce yourself and why you love your church, and show them a seat next to yours in the Sanctuary. Of course, not everyone can do this every week, but imagine a weekly competition for providing hospitality…Welcome Center, indeed!

Grace and Peace,

Shane


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Sunday, August 9, 2009

This is our ministry…

Last week, I shared that Indianapolis’ nickname is “Nap Town.” Turns out, that’s quite misleading. I was in Indy for four days, and didn’t take one nap. I didn’t sleep much, period. Thanks to Donna Jarvi for this observation. We were having lunch, and she asked about General Assembly. I said, “Great, and tiring.” She quipped, “Not really ‘Nap Town,’ is it?” I smiled. We then talked about rearranging furniture in the Narthex, and what further work needs doing in the Adopt-a-Room process. Please help out, if you can, donating time, effort, cash, or skills to assist Donna. She’s been a fabulous leader in this, and we’re oh so close. As well, please thank Laurie Leonhart for working hard with me to craft vision for the Narthex rearranging. Like for instance, we are now calling that space the Welcome Center- a name that better describes our mission for that room. Thanks Laurie and Donna!

Getting back to General Assembly, know that those tiring activities bore fruit. I reconnected with friends, mentors, and former congregants. I attended a workshop on the denomination’s new standards for ordaining ministers. We took a monumental vote on that topic, by the way, and it’s quite a change. An improvement, if you ask me, though I have friends who disagree vehemently. More on that in another letter, though, because I want to share the most important thing about last weekend- I understood in a deeper way than ever before what a great church we attend!

Maybe it’s because I’m now a solo pastor. But in the five years I’ve been a member of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), I never felt so awed and appreciative of our tradition and its people. We’re part of a wonderful church. The people we serve and worship with are talented, creative servants of Jesus. And while I knew that was true here in Plymouth, I’m still just learning how true that is for the rest of our church.

I’m reminded of a sermon I heard in seminary. Santiago Piñon, a Disciples minister and our Director of Field Education, looked at us ministers-in-training and repeated one crucial phrase: This…is…our…ministry. He went on to describe every word in that sentence, and why each was important. This week, I’m focused on the word our. Because what we do every week shares in something beyond individual efforts, and contributes to a glorious whole- The Reign of God. And as members of the Disciples of Christ denomination, there’s a wonderful flavor to those efforts that deserves celebrating, and knowing more about.

For instance, did you know that some of the nation’s best preachers are Disciples? I heard one, Frank Thomas, preach last Saturday. He urged us to be open to revival, as were our ancestors in faith, and to acknowledge that God does God’s best work…suddenly! Like when God’s Spirit arrived on Pentecost…suddenly! Great sermon. Or have you heard about the Blue Jesus? It’s from a Disciples church in CA who preaches that “going green” isn’t just about trees. It’s also about keeping the oceans and rivers safe for wildlife and drinking water. So they host Mission Trips about Jesus-going-blue. I saw Disciples from Hawaii in beautiful floral wraps and shirts, Disciples from South Carolina in traditional African Garb, Disciples from Oklahoma in magnificent cowboy hats. I spoke with a South Korean friend who was just hired by a predominantly Anglo church in KY (one of the fastest growing in the denomination). He’ll be their Minister of Connect, which I don’t understand, but he’s excited! It’s awesome that all these unique people are our sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus. And all their unique ministries aren’t just their ministries. This is our ministry.

If you can’t tell, I’m inspired. The witness of our family of faith, a family that loves unity and liberty, covenant and Scripture, has much to teach and benefit our world. I pray we share that witness boldly. That we love our neighbors as passionately possible. That our story- every day- contributes something beautiful to the glorious Reign of God. For this is our ministry. What a good ministry it is.


Grace and Peace,

Shane
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Sunday, August 2, 2009

Nap-Town…

As city nicknames go, Nap-Town (Indianapolis, IN) isn’t my choice for ‘most ideal.’ Apparently, it arose in early 1900’s, when the city would shut down come nightfall. So people said, “There’s nothing to do in Indianapolis other than nap.” It didn’t hurt that ‘n-a-p’ is in the city name. Oh well, at least they didn’t get “The Big Tomato” (Sacramento) or “The Mistake by the Lake” (Cleveland). I’ve also learned there’s a town in MN named “Downer,” just outside Moorhead. Considering the options, then, Nap-Town is alright. Or perhaps” Circle City,” as it’s also known, or just plain ole “Indy”.

Indianapolis has other things, of course, besides nicknames and sleeping people. There’s the Motor Speedway, home of the Brickyard 400 (that was for you, Ken Feld), and the NCAA Sports Hall of Fame. There are more monuments in Indy than any other American city, outside Washington D.C. And of course, in downtown Indy, you can find the Disciples Center, an office building that many of our denomination’s General ministries call ‘home.’


This weekend, Disciples of Christ from all over descended on Indianapolis, not just to see open-wheel racing or the headquarters of Week of Compassion or even the high school where my wife graduated. As you may know already, our denomination is holding our biannual General Assembly in that city. Nap-Town beware! This should be exciting- a convention center-sized family reunion. Friends from summer camp long ago, classmates from seminary or the School for Congregational Learning, folk you served on a regional committee with, these people and more gather every two years to celebrate our Disciples heritage and make a few decisions.

Many American denominations have gatherings like this one. The Episcopal Church just finished their tri-annual General Convention. Our sister denomination, the United Church of Christ, held their biannual General Synod the weekend of my wedding, causing one close friend to miss the nuptials. Bummer. Those events are opportunities for fellowship and work, like ours. But unlike some other denominations, work at our General Assembly has rather strict limits. Church policy views GA delegates as congregational representatives. But the Assembly is NOT considered representative of the entire denomination. So while we discuss and vote on matters of concern to our church and society- questions about war and peace, the environment, etc.- whatever the General Assembly says about such matters does not equal “what Disciples of Christ believe.” It is simply recording “The Sense of the Assembly.” Indeed, no one person or group of people could ever say definitively “Disciples of Christ believe…” because that’s not how we work. We value differences of opinion, the free exchange of various ideas. What you say may upset me; what I say may seem utterly wrong to you. But we gather at the table together, not because we’re the same, but because we know there’s much to learn from one another.

Of course, that reality has lead some to question whether it makes sense for General Assembly to vote on anything, since a) it doesn’t speak for all Disciples, and b) it gives the false impression that it does speak for all Disciples. In fact, I’m one of those people, and hope this Assembly makes progress toward finding something better, more honest to our heritage, and more creative. But until that happens, the typical answer is that Disciples at GA vote and pass resolutions to encourage churches and church members to educate themselves about issues that are relevant for Christians today. So to that end, let me invite you to visit disciples.org and click on the 2009 General Assembly tab (our theme- “For the Healing of the Nations). Once there, you can read the resolutions we discussed and voted on, as well as the other activities we did. If y’all want, I’ll be glad to lead a forum this fall for our church to discuss the GA resolutions and what we think. In the absence of a better system, that would help make GA’s activities worthwhile. And it would let me share with you some of what I learned.

Assuming, of course, I pull myself away from the NCAA Hall of Fame. In all things,

Grace and Peace,

Shane
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