Note: During Pastor Shane's sabbatical, we will be featuring news and articles from the Regional and General Church.
General Minister and President Sharon Watkins has joined a group of interfaith leaders in expressing disappointment that the detention center at Guantanamo Bay has not been closed.
Go here to read the letter.
Read more!
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Deeper roots…
When my backyard garden finishes growing this fall, I’m most excited for the carrots. Nature’s candy, Tabitha and I call them, though we’ve never planted any before. Indeed, several years ago, I wouldn’t have bothered since carrots contribute nothing to taste, I believed. Then, I learned a roasting technique that softened the insides while browning the outsides, shocking my tongue into satisfied submission.
I’m worried, however, that my homegrown carrots won’t prove up-to-par come harvest. Being root vegetables, I wonder whether we prepared the soil deep enough. I mean, they don’t grow into open air, but into dirt and rocks and whatever’s waiting. If there’s a layer of compacted clay four inches deep, say, won’t the carrots’ growth arrest prematurely?! I’m no farmer (obviously); more a hobby gardener who apparently doesn’t spend time on frivolous concepts like ‘research.’ So maybe my worry is foolish. I won’t know until fall.
Yet haven’t we read the Parable of the Sower, who tossed seeds into various soils? One famously unproductive type in that story was the shallow dirt with no room for roots. The sun beat and nascent plants struggled until their promise ultimately withered. Maybe it works the same for carrots. Stands to reason…
And what of faith communities? Sometimes a great ministry idea fails to bloom, however well-tended with money, people, work and energy, all because, essentially, the timing’s wrong. A neighborhood, perhaps, could prove unprepared to accept a new community garden. So they organize such strong resistance that the sponsoring church pulls support. That didn’t happen to our garden, but it was oh-so-close, wasn’t it? I heard of a community in Tennessee recently that held a public meeting on interfaith acceptance. That’s a great idea, I think, and deeply needed as America grows more religiously diverse. Yet this town proved ill-prepared; the soil was shallow, you might say. They booed and jeered, harassed and bullied until the meeting ended prematurely. And their Muslim neighbors, scared and hurt, cowered back into the shadows.
In Bosnia-Herzegovina, where I’m soon to travel, interfaith soil runs hundreds of years deep. It’s not rock free, of course, or nutrient rich in every place for every believer. Just two decades ago, Orthodox, Catholic and Muslim folk killed each other with savage intensity. Which is really a neutral way of saying that some communities massacred others, Muslims receiving the most brutal treatment, from what I’ve read. Sadly, this genocidal violence salted over centuries of history of neighbors living in relative peace. Not all the time, but in many ways, everyday people got along fine. Old stories tell of mothers praying in an Orthodox church at sunrise, mosque at noon, Catholic cathedral in the evening, simply because they were so scared a son would die of sickness, any worship form would do. Traditionalists would, certainly, abhor this mixing of soils, this blatant apostasy. I’m inclined to give the mothers a pass, even celebrate such interfaith, tolerant attitudes. Mix away!
Because when all complex sermons finish, at the end of every elaborate ritual, there’s usually just a yearning worshipper with troubles aplenty desperate to live with hope. And details of theological intricacy rarely matter when you need help, or your neighbor does. You seek love. You give love. That’s what good religion inspires. Unfortunately, when we live only among like-minded believers, history suggests, our soil easily becomes shallow. We’ll believe, “God doesn’t really care about my neighbor, unless s/he thinks like me.” I worry that’s true for some in our country, given our young and predominantly monoculture religious past. That’s why I’m going to Bosnia-Herzegovina on sabbatical, to learn what I can from their deeper roots. Surely, some will show me scars, burned-out buildings proving that even long-cultivated soil can poison. But I’m also expecting to find other stories of more people sheltering terrified neighbors and living with kindness. After all, even the humble carrot transforms into nature’s candy when prepared well. And I’m convinced that prayer and worship, faith and community prepare human souls to love more often than judge or hate.
I’ll look forward to sharing what I find with you. In the meantime, look after our gardens, won’t you?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
I’m worried, however, that my homegrown carrots won’t prove up-to-par come harvest. Being root vegetables, I wonder whether we prepared the soil deep enough. I mean, they don’t grow into open air, but into dirt and rocks and whatever’s waiting. If there’s a layer of compacted clay four inches deep, say, won’t the carrots’ growth arrest prematurely?! I’m no farmer (obviously); more a hobby gardener who apparently doesn’t spend time on frivolous concepts like ‘research.’ So maybe my worry is foolish. I won’t know until fall.
Yet haven’t we read the Parable of the Sower, who tossed seeds into various soils? One famously unproductive type in that story was the shallow dirt with no room for roots. The sun beat and nascent plants struggled until their promise ultimately withered. Maybe it works the same for carrots. Stands to reason…
And what of faith communities? Sometimes a great ministry idea fails to bloom, however well-tended with money, people, work and energy, all because, essentially, the timing’s wrong. A neighborhood, perhaps, could prove unprepared to accept a new community garden. So they organize such strong resistance that the sponsoring church pulls support. That didn’t happen to our garden, but it was oh-so-close, wasn’t it? I heard of a community in Tennessee recently that held a public meeting on interfaith acceptance. That’s a great idea, I think, and deeply needed as America grows more religiously diverse. Yet this town proved ill-prepared; the soil was shallow, you might say. They booed and jeered, harassed and bullied until the meeting ended prematurely. And their Muslim neighbors, scared and hurt, cowered back into the shadows.
In Bosnia-Herzegovina, where I’m soon to travel, interfaith soil runs hundreds of years deep. It’s not rock free, of course, or nutrient rich in every place for every believer. Just two decades ago, Orthodox, Catholic and Muslim folk killed each other with savage intensity. Which is really a neutral way of saying that some communities massacred others, Muslims receiving the most brutal treatment, from what I’ve read. Sadly, this genocidal violence salted over centuries of history of neighbors living in relative peace. Not all the time, but in many ways, everyday people got along fine. Old stories tell of mothers praying in an Orthodox church at sunrise, mosque at noon, Catholic cathedral in the evening, simply because they were so scared a son would die of sickness, any worship form would do. Traditionalists would, certainly, abhor this mixing of soils, this blatant apostasy. I’m inclined to give the mothers a pass, even celebrate such interfaith, tolerant attitudes. Mix away!
Because when all complex sermons finish, at the end of every elaborate ritual, there’s usually just a yearning worshipper with troubles aplenty desperate to live with hope. And details of theological intricacy rarely matter when you need help, or your neighbor does. You seek love. You give love. That’s what good religion inspires. Unfortunately, when we live only among like-minded believers, history suggests, our soil easily becomes shallow. We’ll believe, “God doesn’t really care about my neighbor, unless s/he thinks like me.” I worry that’s true for some in our country, given our young and predominantly monoculture religious past. That’s why I’m going to Bosnia-Herzegovina on sabbatical, to learn what I can from their deeper roots. Surely, some will show me scars, burned-out buildings proving that even long-cultivated soil can poison. But I’m also expecting to find other stories of more people sheltering terrified neighbors and living with kindness. After all, even the humble carrot transforms into nature’s candy when prepared well. And I’m convinced that prayer and worship, faith and community prepare human souls to love more often than judge or hate.
I’ll look forward to sharing what I find with you. In the meantime, look after our gardens, won’t you?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Monday, July 1, 2013
Summer adventure…
The next two editions of this newsletter won’t include a letter from me. You know by now I’ll be on sabbatical, traveling in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Turkey. I’ll miss the weekly rhythm of sermon, visiting, writing, worship, but am grateful for this gift of extended rest and study.
I hope Plymouth Creek is too. It’s not just my sabbatical, after all. All of us can use this time for renewal, rededication and prayer. Some churches even hire a sabbatical minister. We chose a different route. Four separate pastors will lead worship the eight weeks I’m gone. You’ll love their ministry, I’m certain!
And the Servant Leaders will take on pastoral responsibility. Please contact them with any concerns, or members of the Board. Still, I asked the SL Team what questions they wanted me to ponder while I’m gone, that they (and you!) could also explore. Predictably, their thoughts were interesting. Here’s what they said.
Again, part of my travel will include visiting churches and mosques from faith traditions quite different, and often older, than ours. With that background, one Servant Leader wondered, “What can we learn from these communities about hospitality?” That notion has been a focus of our ministry together these past years. We’ve changed the furniture, adapted our worship practices, added components to our ministry in hope that all visitors and guests will feel welcome. Nevertheless, building a fully robust culture of hospitality is always a work in progress. New people arrive. Old concerns endure. We still need to figure out an effective way to include more families with children. Plus, great hospitality takes more than being kind when someone comes to church. It demands pro-active initiative, constant hospitality innovation, bringing the values and love we cultivate within our walls to people beyond them in need of community. The places I visit this summer may have fresh ideas and creative solutions. So will you, I believe, when you put minds and spirits to the task.
Another question offered was, “How can Plymouth Creek engage the community around us more effectively?” That’s related to the previous question, of course, with greater emphasis on service and mission. We already do much for our neighborhoods and local residents in need, about which we should be proud. Yet a critical component of our church’s vision includes becoming a beacon, a leader, a model to all of the astounding power of Christian service through love. In other words, we should never be content to do enough, or even a little more. You have generous hearts, creative minds, and could tackle bigger problems than we do now. What issues aren’t being addressed around us that Plymouth Creek could take on? Might we provide local leadership in overcoming, say, suburban homelessness or environmental destruction? The countries I’ll visit wrestle with many problems, thankfully some dangerous ones we don’t face. Still, I’ll be looking for their wisdom, and excited to hear yours.
The last question posed was quite insightful; I suspect it’ll yield good fruit. Someone said, “In some of those older churches or mosques, immediately when you walk in, the power and glory of God’s majesty feels so present. Could we capture more of that in our church?” Smart observation, right?! And to my mind, we’re already on the way. I love our sanctuary’s high ceiling, large windows, open structure, intimate feel. It teaches one of Christianity’s most enduring and lovely paradoxes: God is always bigger than we imagine, yet closer than our next breath. What would it take to enhance that feeling? Not just with our facilities, but what we do. Are there certain worship forms or prayers, weekly activities or public statements that signal to virtually anyone who encounters our church that, truly, God is in this place, waiting with grace?
So that’s the project. I’ve been charged and commissioned, and now I hope you are too! Thank you, in advance, for the profound learning you’ll uncover and share. In the meantime, enjoy your summer. Stay cool, and rest up! There’s a Kingdom of God yet to come…and it’s ours to help build.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
I hope Plymouth Creek is too. It’s not just my sabbatical, after all. All of us can use this time for renewal, rededication and prayer. Some churches even hire a sabbatical minister. We chose a different route. Four separate pastors will lead worship the eight weeks I’m gone. You’ll love their ministry, I’m certain!
And the Servant Leaders will take on pastoral responsibility. Please contact them with any concerns, or members of the Board. Still, I asked the SL Team what questions they wanted me to ponder while I’m gone, that they (and you!) could also explore. Predictably, their thoughts were interesting. Here’s what they said.
Again, part of my travel will include visiting churches and mosques from faith traditions quite different, and often older, than ours. With that background, one Servant Leader wondered, “What can we learn from these communities about hospitality?” That notion has been a focus of our ministry together these past years. We’ve changed the furniture, adapted our worship practices, added components to our ministry in hope that all visitors and guests will feel welcome. Nevertheless, building a fully robust culture of hospitality is always a work in progress. New people arrive. Old concerns endure. We still need to figure out an effective way to include more families with children. Plus, great hospitality takes more than being kind when someone comes to church. It demands pro-active initiative, constant hospitality innovation, bringing the values and love we cultivate within our walls to people beyond them in need of community. The places I visit this summer may have fresh ideas and creative solutions. So will you, I believe, when you put minds and spirits to the task.
Another question offered was, “How can Plymouth Creek engage the community around us more effectively?” That’s related to the previous question, of course, with greater emphasis on service and mission. We already do much for our neighborhoods and local residents in need, about which we should be proud. Yet a critical component of our church’s vision includes becoming a beacon, a leader, a model to all of the astounding power of Christian service through love. In other words, we should never be content to do enough, or even a little more. You have generous hearts, creative minds, and could tackle bigger problems than we do now. What issues aren’t being addressed around us that Plymouth Creek could take on? Might we provide local leadership in overcoming, say, suburban homelessness or environmental destruction? The countries I’ll visit wrestle with many problems, thankfully some dangerous ones we don’t face. Still, I’ll be looking for their wisdom, and excited to hear yours.
The last question posed was quite insightful; I suspect it’ll yield good fruit. Someone said, “In some of those older churches or mosques, immediately when you walk in, the power and glory of God’s majesty feels so present. Could we capture more of that in our church?” Smart observation, right?! And to my mind, we’re already on the way. I love our sanctuary’s high ceiling, large windows, open structure, intimate feel. It teaches one of Christianity’s most enduring and lovely paradoxes: God is always bigger than we imagine, yet closer than our next breath. What would it take to enhance that feeling? Not just with our facilities, but what we do. Are there certain worship forms or prayers, weekly activities or public statements that signal to virtually anyone who encounters our church that, truly, God is in this place, waiting with grace?
So that’s the project. I’ve been charged and commissioned, and now I hope you are too! Thank you, in advance, for the profound learning you’ll uncover and share. In the meantime, enjoy your summer. Stay cool, and rest up! There’s a Kingdom of God yet to come…and it’s ours to help build.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
New ideas…
I don’t recall how the conversation arose, but one comment struck me. It happened several weeks ago during my annual turn as Director of Equestrian Camp. This adventure involves a small group of middle and high schoolers sleeping in the woods, singing goofy songs, riding horses. Most summer camps our Region sponsors lack an equine component; sad for them. Ours is a great time!
It’s not all horsey games, though. We spend many hours in worship or spiritual conversation. Such was happening this year, when, for whatever reason, heresy was mentioned. One camper asked, “What’s heresy?” I tried to explain; said that, in the Christian history, churches have described several important ideas or doctrines as, basically, “true.” God is the world’s Creator; Jesus is Lord. I’m sure you have favorites. When people dissented from these established teachings, I offered, the “Church” labeled them heretics. Thus, heresy is the act of teaching a teaching that the “Church’s” approved teachers believe is wrong.
To which, one of my precocious campers responded with a gem. “You mean,” He said, “Heresy is having new ideas?” I reacted with as loud and joyful a laugh as any I’d produce that week. I think he hit upon a critical dynamic of Christian faith with eloquent ease and perceptive wit. Of course, I have a healthy tolerance for what others call “unorthodox.” It’d be a rare day for me to call another’s belief system “heresy,” and so judge them for it.
Not that I distrust every long-settled ‘teaching’ of the ‘Church,’ or disrespect religious tradition. A major reason I spend much leisure time reading large history books my wife finds boring is I’m enamored by our past, cultural and religious. It’s exciting, I feel, full of wisdom. Plus, I think way too many people in contemporary society cling to a persistent and stunningly dangerous conceit: new = good, old = dumb (or naïve, or oppressive, or worthless…).
Take the doctrine of resurrection. Modern science strongly argues against thinking people believing this. Thus, many good and faithful Christians say, “Jesus was a great teacher, but couldn’t have ‘risen again.’” They’ll talk of resurrection as metaphor, or as something spiritually but not physically accomplished. “We don’t need to believe in magic to put the Golden Rule into practice.” That’s not bad theology. It’s an interesting new idea. Some of you, I’m sure, think it’s right. Still, I worry about modern people dismissing the faithful convictions of billions of people over thousands of years. Pre-modern believers weren’t stupid, after all. They thought in different categories, believed different “rules.” But they experienced doubt, admitted confusion, as much as we do, sometimes more. To my mind, then, I think it worth our time to take them seriously, receive their gifts. Not acquiesce uncritically, but engage in conversation.
Yet many historic “defenders of the faith,” i.e. those people who loved charging others with heresy, forget that argument, newness and creativity were just as important to the development of Christianity as teaching “settled” doctrine. The Trinity, for instance, didn’t arise in Biblical times. It took three plus centuries of praying, fighting, bad ideas, good ideas that were rejected because it offended someone in power. Only then, and with a none-too-subtle nudge from a biased Emperor with a big army, did our current formulation of God’s Three-in-Oneness become “settled,” and still some held out. We wouldn’t have lit upon this beautifully mysterious notion without multiple people fervently seeking the truth of God independently. Some called those who didn’t win the argument “heretics.” I think they did us favors by constantly pushing new ideas. Well, many of them, at least…
The question for me, then, is one of salvation. Does God “save” only those who believe “the truth”? Or is God’s saving grace experienced in the free pursuit of God’s loving presence, wherever that leads? Surprise: I think the latter. No one knows the whole truth, so help us God. Modern or ancient, orthodox or heretic, we’d all do well to nurture humility. And maybe, while we’re at it, nurture respect for new ideas. Not all will be good. But some will. And we’ll be better for it.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
It’s not all horsey games, though. We spend many hours in worship or spiritual conversation. Such was happening this year, when, for whatever reason, heresy was mentioned. One camper asked, “What’s heresy?” I tried to explain; said that, in the Christian history, churches have described several important ideas or doctrines as, basically, “true.” God is the world’s Creator; Jesus is Lord. I’m sure you have favorites. When people dissented from these established teachings, I offered, the “Church” labeled them heretics. Thus, heresy is the act of teaching a teaching that the “Church’s” approved teachers believe is wrong.
To which, one of my precocious campers responded with a gem. “You mean,” He said, “Heresy is having new ideas?” I reacted with as loud and joyful a laugh as any I’d produce that week. I think he hit upon a critical dynamic of Christian faith with eloquent ease and perceptive wit. Of course, I have a healthy tolerance for what others call “unorthodox.” It’d be a rare day for me to call another’s belief system “heresy,” and so judge them for it.
Not that I distrust every long-settled ‘teaching’ of the ‘Church,’ or disrespect religious tradition. A major reason I spend much leisure time reading large history books my wife finds boring is I’m enamored by our past, cultural and religious. It’s exciting, I feel, full of wisdom. Plus, I think way too many people in contemporary society cling to a persistent and stunningly dangerous conceit: new = good, old = dumb (or naïve, or oppressive, or worthless…).
Take the doctrine of resurrection. Modern science strongly argues against thinking people believing this. Thus, many good and faithful Christians say, “Jesus was a great teacher, but couldn’t have ‘risen again.’” They’ll talk of resurrection as metaphor, or as something spiritually but not physically accomplished. “We don’t need to believe in magic to put the Golden Rule into practice.” That’s not bad theology. It’s an interesting new idea. Some of you, I’m sure, think it’s right. Still, I worry about modern people dismissing the faithful convictions of billions of people over thousands of years. Pre-modern believers weren’t stupid, after all. They thought in different categories, believed different “rules.” But they experienced doubt, admitted confusion, as much as we do, sometimes more. To my mind, then, I think it worth our time to take them seriously, receive their gifts. Not acquiesce uncritically, but engage in conversation.
Yet many historic “defenders of the faith,” i.e. those people who loved charging others with heresy, forget that argument, newness and creativity were just as important to the development of Christianity as teaching “settled” doctrine. The Trinity, for instance, didn’t arise in Biblical times. It took three plus centuries of praying, fighting, bad ideas, good ideas that were rejected because it offended someone in power. Only then, and with a none-too-subtle nudge from a biased Emperor with a big army, did our current formulation of God’s Three-in-Oneness become “settled,” and still some held out. We wouldn’t have lit upon this beautifully mysterious notion without multiple people fervently seeking the truth of God independently. Some called those who didn’t win the argument “heretics.” I think they did us favors by constantly pushing new ideas. Well, many of them, at least…
The question for me, then, is one of salvation. Does God “save” only those who believe “the truth”? Or is God’s saving grace experienced in the free pursuit of God’s loving presence, wherever that leads? Surprise: I think the latter. No one knows the whole truth, so help us God. Modern or ancient, orthodox or heretic, we’d all do well to nurture humility. And maybe, while we’re at it, nurture respect for new ideas. Not all will be good. But some will. And we’ll be better for it.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Annual Report…
This week’s letter doubles as my annual Pastor’s Report to the Congregation, written for our June Congregational Meeting. Here goes.
First, some numbers. We passed our last budget, June 2012-May 2013, with an expected 4% deficit. John’s Treasurer’s Report will tell you, however, we ended the year with an 11% surplus. That’s due to lower costs, several unexpected receipts and increased giving. Here are two appropriate responses: Wahoo, and Thank you, Lord! This allows us to repay fully our Memorial Fund and enter next year in stronger financial position. You should also know that the Board will tithe from our surplus, because that’s what good Christians do.
During that time, we ran a Capital Campaign for much-needed deferred maintenance. You pledged roughly $84,000, payable over three years. Around 60% has come in already. Well done! Also, please keep paying your pledges… We signed contracts for repaving the parking lot and wait just for loan paperwork to finalize. Then, we’ll schedule the work and proceed to next steps. Slow going, but still going. Another number- 5%. That represents our increased worship attendance. It continues a trajectory we’ve witnessed over the past several years, revealing heath in hospitality and worship. Still, it would behoove us to work harder on reaching out to new people next year.
Behind those numbers, of course, is actual ministry performed. This Spring, we welcomed a wonderful college student as a pastoral intern. He helped open our community garden; it’s our third year in operation, second consecutive at full capacity. He brainstormed with me new additions to worship, and worked with Becky Bell on a more useful church directory. FYI, we also agreed to host another intern from United Seminary, starting in September.
Our Sunday morning Bus Ministry continued, ably adapting to fresh needs. It also helped seniors (whose bimonthly Lunch Bunch remains strong due to Nola’s capable leadership!) drive recently to the Jensen’s Wisconsin cabin for a lovely outing. It transported a group to the Hindu Temple of Maple Grove for an interfaith learning experience.
And speaking of learning and new ideas, last year included many. The Life of Pi Book Group was fun, as was the Lenten Study of a devotional I helped write. Kimberly created a Fitness Challenge for our March food drive, which further included turning donations into a sanctuary Food Sculpture. In April, we hosted a Unity Service with Churches of Christ and independent Christian Churches. The place was packed! You may also recall an Interfaith Thanksgiving Service we helped organize at St. Ed’s Episcopal. A couple after-church events of note- talking Prison Ministry after my March Immersion experience, and learning about Pam and Ben’s mission trip to the Philippines. Worship music remained strong as new things were tried (well done Jeremae and choir!). We had conversations about Islam with our Muslim neighbors and hosted three pastors from local churches during a year-long pulpit exchange. Christmas services welcomed more people than any previous year I’ve been here; Easter was lovely too. Thanks to Barb for stepping in after Jeremae’s injury and LeAnn for another year of quality handbells. A joint Youth Group with Plymouth Presbyterian was attempted, put on hold but remains a future possibility. We undertook several outreach campaigns (Sleep Out with a clergy fashion show, Week of Compassion, MN Foodshare, another joyful CROP Walk-thanks Weavers!), and pulled off a garage sale fundraiser at the gracious Brown’s under Donna Jarvi’s wonderful supervision. We welcomed into our pulpit denominational leader Robert Welsh of the Council on Christian Unity. A redesigned Sunday School became all ages with breakfast for youth, as adults chatted at Dunn Brothers Coffee. Another fellowship picnic occurred during July’s Music in Plymouth (thanks Steve!), and I could mention more.
The point is, several years ago we committed to a vision- To become a beacon of Christian openness and service to the Northwestern Service. Through creative efforts, committed stewardship, exciting outreach and love of God, we made progress toward that vision this year and laid foundation for further growth. Thank you, Plymouth Creek, for delighting in God’s presence and God’s work, and for continuing to welcome all to the table. Onto next year. Keep shining!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
First, some numbers. We passed our last budget, June 2012-May 2013, with an expected 4% deficit. John’s Treasurer’s Report will tell you, however, we ended the year with an 11% surplus. That’s due to lower costs, several unexpected receipts and increased giving. Here are two appropriate responses: Wahoo, and Thank you, Lord! This allows us to repay fully our Memorial Fund and enter next year in stronger financial position. You should also know that the Board will tithe from our surplus, because that’s what good Christians do.
During that time, we ran a Capital Campaign for much-needed deferred maintenance. You pledged roughly $84,000, payable over three years. Around 60% has come in already. Well done! Also, please keep paying your pledges… We signed contracts for repaving the parking lot and wait just for loan paperwork to finalize. Then, we’ll schedule the work and proceed to next steps. Slow going, but still going. Another number- 5%. That represents our increased worship attendance. It continues a trajectory we’ve witnessed over the past several years, revealing heath in hospitality and worship. Still, it would behoove us to work harder on reaching out to new people next year.
Behind those numbers, of course, is actual ministry performed. This Spring, we welcomed a wonderful college student as a pastoral intern. He helped open our community garden; it’s our third year in operation, second consecutive at full capacity. He brainstormed with me new additions to worship, and worked with Becky Bell on a more useful church directory. FYI, we also agreed to host another intern from United Seminary, starting in September.
Our Sunday morning Bus Ministry continued, ably adapting to fresh needs. It also helped seniors (whose bimonthly Lunch Bunch remains strong due to Nola’s capable leadership!) drive recently to the Jensen’s Wisconsin cabin for a lovely outing. It transported a group to the Hindu Temple of Maple Grove for an interfaith learning experience.
And speaking of learning and new ideas, last year included many. The Life of Pi Book Group was fun, as was the Lenten Study of a devotional I helped write. Kimberly created a Fitness Challenge for our March food drive, which further included turning donations into a sanctuary Food Sculpture. In April, we hosted a Unity Service with Churches of Christ and independent Christian Churches. The place was packed! You may also recall an Interfaith Thanksgiving Service we helped organize at St. Ed’s Episcopal. A couple after-church events of note- talking Prison Ministry after my March Immersion experience, and learning about Pam and Ben’s mission trip to the Philippines. Worship music remained strong as new things were tried (well done Jeremae and choir!). We had conversations about Islam with our Muslim neighbors and hosted three pastors from local churches during a year-long pulpit exchange. Christmas services welcomed more people than any previous year I’ve been here; Easter was lovely too. Thanks to Barb for stepping in after Jeremae’s injury and LeAnn for another year of quality handbells. A joint Youth Group with Plymouth Presbyterian was attempted, put on hold but remains a future possibility. We undertook several outreach campaigns (Sleep Out with a clergy fashion show, Week of Compassion, MN Foodshare, another joyful CROP Walk-thanks Weavers!), and pulled off a garage sale fundraiser at the gracious Brown’s under Donna Jarvi’s wonderful supervision. We welcomed into our pulpit denominational leader Robert Welsh of the Council on Christian Unity. A redesigned Sunday School became all ages with breakfast for youth, as adults chatted at Dunn Brothers Coffee. Another fellowship picnic occurred during July’s Music in Plymouth (thanks Steve!), and I could mention more.
The point is, several years ago we committed to a vision- To become a beacon of Christian openness and service to the Northwestern Service. Through creative efforts, committed stewardship, exciting outreach and love of God, we made progress toward that vision this year and laid foundation for further growth. Thank you, Plymouth Creek, for delighting in God’s presence and God’s work, and for continuing to welcome all to the table. Onto next year. Keep shining!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Which story…
I found it striking, even troubling, that on the weekend I wrote to Ply about my upcoming sabbatical plans- General Assembly, a month in Bosnia-Herzegovina, ten days in and around Istanbul- the latter of those locales ignited international news. I’m sure by now you’ve seen or read about ongoing protests in Turkey’s largest metropolis. I’m scheduled to fly into that city in just over a month. The timing, I’m sure, is coincidence!
Still, it’s concerning, right? Haven’t we seen massive protest movements destabilize multiple Muslim majority countries in recent years? The differences, of course, should be stated. Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Egypt, each is ethnically Arab. Turkey? Not so much. Besides, and to me this is critical, those earlier movements challenged decades of autocratic rule. The Turkish government would win no model democracy medals, but it allows greater political freedoms than nearly every neighbor.
And yet…my trip’s suddenly awash in questions. If this continues, will we be safe? Is it prudent to still go? On the flip side, part of me wonders whether the timing’s truly fortuitous. Should something historical take place in that county, I’d possibly see the action first hand. I mean, I wouldn’t throw caution into the Black Sea, rush into the center of upheaval and take pictures! If Gezim Square- where the protests began- remains a flashpoint when I arrive, I’d give the park a wide birth. Take in whatever’s happening via TV. Such have been the myriad of thoughts crowding my brain space these past weeks.
Here’s my prediction- and realize I’m in no way an Istanbul expert. Heck, I’m barely even an amateur; insert massive grain of salt now! Still, from what little I know, I’m guessing that Turkey won’t devolve into another Syria. Civil war against a dictator is a far cry from protesting elected officials. The Turkish Prime Minister has garnered for over a decade unprecedented popular support. He hasn’t dealt with this “crisis” very deftly. But he’s not bombing his people or torturing dissidents.
So I’m hoping that within the month Istanbul won’t suddenly be closed to tourists. The US State Department might produce some “warnings,” but they do that for myriads of countries. When Tabitha lived in Honduras for several months, State claimed it had a reputation for murder and kidnapping. I’m sure that happened, and mourn for the victims, but many visited safely, Tabitha included. As with all things foreign travel, tourists should exercise caution. Guard your passport. Check your sources. Avoid conspicuous behavior and proven hotbeds. But unless the situation devolves dramatically, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. Perhaps that’s rationalizing, given the plane ticket costs. Still, this opportunity arises only so often.
I heard a novelist from Liberia on the radio today counsel people against “single narratives.” What she meant was that it’s often our nature to hear one thing about others, and believe just that. For instance, Western folk long had a “single narrative” about Africans. They were poor, tribal, backward, violent, and that, basically, was that. When she moved to America for college, her roommate was stunned she spoke good English. “It’s Liberia’s national language,” she said. The roommate had no answer. It’s not just Africans we do that to, of course. Immigrants, gays, southerners, shall I go on? And it’s not just Westerners. Many Pakistanis believe a conspiratorial “single narrative” about Americans.
Life, however, is always messier, more complex, richer than one story. It’s true in your life, in mine, for communities, ethnicities, nations. News reports of Turkish protests naturally latch onto the wild and violent. However, what’s also true is YouTube videos of dancing youth, making light of their serious demands, inflecting humor into the narrative. Satire has strong political force, but only if we’re open to listening. So that’s my aim these next weeks- seek as full a picture of what’s happening as possible. And if the multiple narratives, on balance, suggest more danger for me than safety, then I’ll find some other way to use my time, enjoy my rest, pursue my goals. I’m guessing, though, it’ll be alright. The story of peace remains powerful. Pray for me. Pray for Turkey. Pray for love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Still, it’s concerning, right? Haven’t we seen massive protest movements destabilize multiple Muslim majority countries in recent years? The differences, of course, should be stated. Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Egypt, each is ethnically Arab. Turkey? Not so much. Besides, and to me this is critical, those earlier movements challenged decades of autocratic rule. The Turkish government would win no model democracy medals, but it allows greater political freedoms than nearly every neighbor.
And yet…my trip’s suddenly awash in questions. If this continues, will we be safe? Is it prudent to still go? On the flip side, part of me wonders whether the timing’s truly fortuitous. Should something historical take place in that county, I’d possibly see the action first hand. I mean, I wouldn’t throw caution into the Black Sea, rush into the center of upheaval and take pictures! If Gezim Square- where the protests began- remains a flashpoint when I arrive, I’d give the park a wide birth. Take in whatever’s happening via TV. Such have been the myriad of thoughts crowding my brain space these past weeks.
Here’s my prediction- and realize I’m in no way an Istanbul expert. Heck, I’m barely even an amateur; insert massive grain of salt now! Still, from what little I know, I’m guessing that Turkey won’t devolve into another Syria. Civil war against a dictator is a far cry from protesting elected officials. The Turkish Prime Minister has garnered for over a decade unprecedented popular support. He hasn’t dealt with this “crisis” very deftly. But he’s not bombing his people or torturing dissidents.
So I’m hoping that within the month Istanbul won’t suddenly be closed to tourists. The US State Department might produce some “warnings,” but they do that for myriads of countries. When Tabitha lived in Honduras for several months, State claimed it had a reputation for murder and kidnapping. I’m sure that happened, and mourn for the victims, but many visited safely, Tabitha included. As with all things foreign travel, tourists should exercise caution. Guard your passport. Check your sources. Avoid conspicuous behavior and proven hotbeds. But unless the situation devolves dramatically, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. Perhaps that’s rationalizing, given the plane ticket costs. Still, this opportunity arises only so often.
I heard a novelist from Liberia on the radio today counsel people against “single narratives.” What she meant was that it’s often our nature to hear one thing about others, and believe just that. For instance, Western folk long had a “single narrative” about Africans. They were poor, tribal, backward, violent, and that, basically, was that. When she moved to America for college, her roommate was stunned she spoke good English. “It’s Liberia’s national language,” she said. The roommate had no answer. It’s not just Africans we do that to, of course. Immigrants, gays, southerners, shall I go on? And it’s not just Westerners. Many Pakistanis believe a conspiratorial “single narrative” about Americans.
Life, however, is always messier, more complex, richer than one story. It’s true in your life, in mine, for communities, ethnicities, nations. News reports of Turkish protests naturally latch onto the wild and violent. However, what’s also true is YouTube videos of dancing youth, making light of their serious demands, inflecting humor into the narrative. Satire has strong political force, but only if we’re open to listening. So that’s my aim these next weeks- seek as full a picture of what’s happening as possible. And if the multiple narratives, on balance, suggest more danger for me than safety, then I’ll find some other way to use my time, enjoy my rest, pursue my goals. I’m guessing, though, it’ll be alright. The story of peace remains powerful. Pray for me. Pray for Turkey. Pray for love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Priestly time…
Responding to the sudden discovery that Minnesota might finally experience Spring, gluttonous aromas wafted into my backyard last weekend. In other words, grilling season arrived! Backyard hamburgers were cooking, bratwursts roasting and bursting and spreading wondrous scents across the neighborhood. Hallelujah! Perhaps you got in on the action. My grill has, sadly, stayed dormant. Not for long, though. I fully intend to participate soon in this most ancient of civilized pursuits.
Recently, I finished a wonderful book, which I’m recommending heartily. It’s called “Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation” by foodie demigod Michael Pollan. Essentially, it describes his multiyear process of learning to cook. Which surprised me, since I assumed he already did this well, since he’s written several bestsellers about food. Apparently not. He’d only done basic stuff previously, but now wanted deeper knowledge, leading Pollan, among other pursuits, to learn the secrets of Barbeque.
And by Barbeque, I mean cooking much more involved than Hebrew Nationals on your Webber grill. Pollan studied under Southern masters who use that term exclusively for whole hogs. You read that right. Whole Hog Barbeque, slow-roasted overnight with fanatical attention. No charcoal employed. No sauce allowed. Real wood fires, vinegar, salt, time. I’ve roasted a whole hog once. It was good, but nowhere near the production he described. Still, in doing so, Pollan informs me, I paid homage to the earliest of religious practice.
Think back to Hebrew Bible times or Greek myths of pre-modern peoples pleasing the gods. Animal sacrifice, you’ll recall, was the go-to, trustworthy method. Some stories tell of whole herds of cattle butchered and burnt, entreating Yaweh to send rain. More typically, a family, village or tribe slaughtered and offered one or two beasts, believing that this sacrificing precious resources satisfied fickle deities.
Of course, a natural question to ask is, “What did they do with all that meat?” One obvious answer: people ate it. Sometimes, perhaps in earlier days, the flames would render all sacrifices into crispy char. But eventually, people proposed that “spiritual” gods don’t care about flesh. What mattered were those scrumptious smells billowing heavenward with delicious appeal. So the gods wouldn’t mind, this thinking goes, if we feasted on what remained. In fact, some temple or priestly authorities relied on this sacrifice economy to feed religious specialists, who’d utter and mumble, chant and excite on-looking common folk with elaborate rituals. All while attending spits of roasting hogs- or in Israel’s case, non-pork meats!- slowly transforming dead flesh into spectacular food for God and humanity.
Imagine that the next time you watch some guy hover over a grill with sacred intensity. He (and it’s usually men, right? Like religious professionals almost always were until recent decades, alas) is simply modernizing the ancient priestly vocation of intermediating between us and the divine realm, evoking ancestors who thought this open-flame performance art would enhance God’s pleasure and bless God’s people. The immediate proof of that desired blessing, of course, would be plates piled high with tasty glory. I’m unsure how often the “common” folk shared in this bounty during biblical times, but nowadays we frequently invite many to the outdoor table.
Which is as it should be. Good religious ritual ought inspire and create community. The bread and cup of Holy Communion, after all, are certainly not intended for solo consumption. At least in our church, they function to bring God’s people together. And we need that. For we live separate lives mostly, sometime argue, debate and quibble. Yet around the loaf of love and wine of resurrection, we’re reminded over and over that we’re always one. Bound together through grace, inspired with hope, nourished by sacramental transformation for faithful action. That’s the intention, goal and often the outcome of why we celebrate Christ’s sacrifice. Memorial Day cookouts, typically, don’t presume such lofty pretentions! But if undertaken with careful attention, quality foods and good company, they just may remind us that from eons past we’ve found holiness in feeding each other. Especially when we invite neighbors. By God, I’m suddenly hungry…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Recently, I finished a wonderful book, which I’m recommending heartily. It’s called “Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation” by foodie demigod Michael Pollan. Essentially, it describes his multiyear process of learning to cook. Which surprised me, since I assumed he already did this well, since he’s written several bestsellers about food. Apparently not. He’d only done basic stuff previously, but now wanted deeper knowledge, leading Pollan, among other pursuits, to learn the secrets of Barbeque.
And by Barbeque, I mean cooking much more involved than Hebrew Nationals on your Webber grill. Pollan studied under Southern masters who use that term exclusively for whole hogs. You read that right. Whole Hog Barbeque, slow-roasted overnight with fanatical attention. No charcoal employed. No sauce allowed. Real wood fires, vinegar, salt, time. I’ve roasted a whole hog once. It was good, but nowhere near the production he described. Still, in doing so, Pollan informs me, I paid homage to the earliest of religious practice.
Think back to Hebrew Bible times or Greek myths of pre-modern peoples pleasing the gods. Animal sacrifice, you’ll recall, was the go-to, trustworthy method. Some stories tell of whole herds of cattle butchered and burnt, entreating Yaweh to send rain. More typically, a family, village or tribe slaughtered and offered one or two beasts, believing that this sacrificing precious resources satisfied fickle deities.
Of course, a natural question to ask is, “What did they do with all that meat?” One obvious answer: people ate it. Sometimes, perhaps in earlier days, the flames would render all sacrifices into crispy char. But eventually, people proposed that “spiritual” gods don’t care about flesh. What mattered were those scrumptious smells billowing heavenward with delicious appeal. So the gods wouldn’t mind, this thinking goes, if we feasted on what remained. In fact, some temple or priestly authorities relied on this sacrifice economy to feed religious specialists, who’d utter and mumble, chant and excite on-looking common folk with elaborate rituals. All while attending spits of roasting hogs- or in Israel’s case, non-pork meats!- slowly transforming dead flesh into spectacular food for God and humanity.
Imagine that the next time you watch some guy hover over a grill with sacred intensity. He (and it’s usually men, right? Like religious professionals almost always were until recent decades, alas) is simply modernizing the ancient priestly vocation of intermediating between us and the divine realm, evoking ancestors who thought this open-flame performance art would enhance God’s pleasure and bless God’s people. The immediate proof of that desired blessing, of course, would be plates piled high with tasty glory. I’m unsure how often the “common” folk shared in this bounty during biblical times, but nowadays we frequently invite many to the outdoor table.
Which is as it should be. Good religious ritual ought inspire and create community. The bread and cup of Holy Communion, after all, are certainly not intended for solo consumption. At least in our church, they function to bring God’s people together. And we need that. For we live separate lives mostly, sometime argue, debate and quibble. Yet around the loaf of love and wine of resurrection, we’re reminded over and over that we’re always one. Bound together through grace, inspired with hope, nourished by sacramental transformation for faithful action. That’s the intention, goal and often the outcome of why we celebrate Christ’s sacrifice. Memorial Day cookouts, typically, don’t presume such lofty pretentions! But if undertaken with careful attention, quality foods and good company, they just may remind us that from eons past we’ve found holiness in feeding each other. Especially when we invite neighbors. By God, I’m suddenly hungry…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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