Forgive the obvious drama of that phrase, but I really like it. You may recognize it from President Lincoln’s first Inaugural Address, which I read and wrote about to you a few weeks back. To Lincoln, I believe, this phrase signified an important insight into the nation he led. We began as a union of disparate communities from different places across the continent (or at least the East Coast), pledging nevertheless to live together under one banner for the purpose of a common cause. Lincoln seems to suggest that this union of communities and colonies amounted to something great, but his great insight was that this union could be, proper grammar aside, even more perfect. Indeed, as his years in the presidency showed, ideals forever outpace our efforts to embody them; it’s what keeps us moving forward. So he called his country to strive for something more, while celebrating the joys of the union they already experienced. If only the call was headed…
This concept rattled through my untidy mind last week, after what was the second of recent meetings between leadership from Thy Word Worship Center, Yellow Brick Road Child Care and Plymouth Creek. Things actually began before I arrived as pastor, not just because y’all invited YBR and TW to share our space some years back, but also because Chana and Al met with the pastors of Thy Word about a week or two before my coming to discuss certain matters of mutual concern. It became clear then, and continues to be so, that ongoing dialogue between our organizations, in some formal capacity, would prove productive for meeting whatever challenges arose, anticipating what had yet to surface, and planning shared opportunities for work and mission. So in December, due in part to an issue of property mistreatment that needed confronting (alas), we realized this vision and sat down together. It was very good, I must say, and we resolved to meet again in January (last week).
The topics we discussed were both broad and specific. We wanted to clarify each organization's expectations about building use, and challenge ourselves to adopt more effective and life-giving methods of communication (Dr. Leman Nutall said it well, "I'd like to talk with folk more often than just when something goes wrong"; a wise man, I've come appreciate). We learned there was confusion about who's cleaning the bathrooms when, and have since established a more equitable distribution of labor (our part is to perform a quick inspection of the restrooms during cleanup after fellowship hour). We adopted a better way to inform each other of upcoming events. We admitted instances of lapsed oversight; sought common ground on shared frustrations. And we committed to working together not only to respect this space ("God's House" as Dr. Leman suggested), but also to using our partnership for pursuing mission together. Thus, Thy Word and YBR will join Plymouth Creek in our March Mission Adventure of supplying food to the MN Foodshare.
In short, we want to work together to form a more perfect union. I say this because it is our shared understanding that these relationship are not just those of landlord to tenants. Plymouth Creek opens its doors to other organizations as an outgrowth of our commitment to Christian Hospitality. As such, we have a stake in each other’s future, and want our efforts to help others achieve their mission. With Thy Word, the mission is similar: love God, neighbor and self. With YBR, it’s a bit different, but something we value too: provide high-quality care for beloved children at prices below market average. We know, of course, that hospitality sometimes means putting up with stuff we’d rather not. Things sometimes get moved, or dirtied, or broken. And because of that we’ve resolved to continue these regular meetings- to support one another, to stay focused on our common mission and perfecting union, to discuss issues openly, in one another’s midst, and to find resolution to conflict. Thus, I urge you, if you notice ways to enhance our partnership with YBR and TW, please let me know your observations and possible solutions, and we’ll include those in the conversation. Or let me know if you’d like to join the discussion. As I’ve heard before, the Table is open…
And above all, I hope we continue to celebrate this unique arrangement; a vibrant nesting congregation and a loving child care center. Far more than the income they provide our operating budget, I appreciate the many ways these partners help us fulfill our mission as a church; the many new things I’ve learned by spending time with their leaders and their members; they very real way in which my saying ‘them and us’ is really becoming just ‘us.’ As I reflect on these relationships, I’m called perpetually to remember that fundamental ingredient of Christian faith, hospitality, or as President Lincoln put it, at the end of his address, “the better angels of our nature.” In all things, I wish you,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Hey you, you’ve got a smudge or something on your forehead…
Every year, I look forward to this comment. It often comes from a grocery clerk, who kindly chats with me as I purchase some veggies, chickenbreasts and the occasional bag of buffalo wings. S/he looks up, sees black stuffon my noggin and might give me a napkin to wipe it off. “Oh that,” I say, “Don’t worry. It’s there on purpose. Today is Ash Wednesday, and that smudge is supposed to be a cross, reflecting God’s love and Christ’s overcoming death.” Or something like that.
Maybe this tradition is unfamiliar to you. Not every Christian grew up like me(Episcopal) in a church that celebrated Ash Wednesday. If you’ve not experienced it, let me tell you why I love this act as I do. Technically, it’s called the “Imposition of Ashes,” which refers to a pastor/priest/elder/Christian putting a mixture of ash (last year’s palms from Psalm Sunday) and olive oil (Extra Virgin) on her/his thumb, then drawing a small black cross on another’s forehead. During the act, the ‘imposer’ utters something like, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” a haunting sentence, to be sure, but no less true for being so. Christians do this on Ash Wednesday to remind ourselves of this life’s finite nature, and Christ’s ultimate victory over that finitude. It also initiates Lent, that annual adventure of reflection, discipline and repentance, which helps us prepare to celebrate Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. I love Ash Wednesday for at least two reasons, 1) that haunting sentence stirs the depths of my spirit to worship (you
know, those parts I sometimes leave at home on Sunday mornings), and 2) that question
at the grocery store is another chance for me to tell someone about Jesus.
I know that some have less buoyant memories of Ash Wednesday, evoking
experiences of past churches that felt oppressive. I wish it were otherwise, since this Christian observance, and certainly church itself, should invite us further into God’s unending love, not exclude us or make us feel ‘unworthy.’ Indeed, the ultimate meaning, for me, of Ash Wednesday and Lent is that even something so scary and unwelcome as death, even stuff as perpetual and alienating as sin cannot “separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:39b).” I find it refreshing, empowering in fact, to stare that deep truth in the face from time to time, or to put it differently, to remind myself how firm a foundation this God we worship truly is.
And this year, we invite you to join in.
On February 25th, from 6:15-6:45 PM in the Sanctuary, we will hold a brief Ash Wednesday service, kicking off Plymouth Creek’s 2009 encounter with Lent. This year’s Lent will have a theme, aligned with the year’s congregational theme (A Table Before Me: God’s Open-Armed Adventure), and that will be Holy Adventure. Not only will Holy Adventure add another crucial dimension to our year-long exploration, it’s also
the title of a book we will study on Wednesday evenings during Lent, Holy Adventure: 40 Days of Audacious Living (more details elsewhere in the February Creeksider). In conversation with our Worship Team, we found it good to remind the church that alongside hospitality and open-armed love, the adventure God invites us on is
holy, marked by holiness. In other words, there’s something supernatural, awe-inspiring, perfect and pure embedded in God’s Creation (another word for which, I’ve learned, is Adventure), and that holiness is something we can take part in, grow in, bear witness to. It is theologically and factually true that God’s Creation/Adventure is stunningly beautiful. And, alas, we’ve smudged that beauty in some respects, as
individuals and groups of people, sometimes unwittingly so, sometimes from dubious intent. So this Ash Wednesday, we’ll acknowledge that beautiful holiness, repent of the smears we’ve added to the mix, praise God’s faithful attempts at overcoming and seek God’s guidance for our holy role in bringing eternal love to our neighborhood, society and environment.
And we’ll remember this act is not really a new venture, it’s another stop on the Adventure we began weeks, years, perhaps decades ago. For I’ve learned that Plymouth Creek already values God’s Holiness, and knows instinctively that Christ’s Holy Table is a preparation zone for Christian mission. A forehead of ashes won’t accomplish that mission in full, but it can bear witness to the fullness of Christ’s hopes that we “may be one,” gathered together into glory with open arms from a Roman cross.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Maybe this tradition is unfamiliar to you. Not every Christian grew up like me(Episcopal) in a church that celebrated Ash Wednesday. If you’ve not experienced it, let me tell you why I love this act as I do. Technically, it’s called the “Imposition of Ashes,” which refers to a pastor/priest/elder/Christian putting a mixture of ash (last year’s palms from Psalm Sunday) and olive oil (Extra Virgin) on her/his thumb, then drawing a small black cross on another’s forehead. During the act, the ‘imposer’ utters something like, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” a haunting sentence, to be sure, but no less true for being so. Christians do this on Ash Wednesday to remind ourselves of this life’s finite nature, and Christ’s ultimate victory over that finitude. It also initiates Lent, that annual adventure of reflection, discipline and repentance, which helps us prepare to celebrate Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. I love Ash Wednesday for at least two reasons, 1) that haunting sentence stirs the depths of my spirit to worship (you
know, those parts I sometimes leave at home on Sunday mornings), and 2) that question
at the grocery store is another chance for me to tell someone about Jesus.
I know that some have less buoyant memories of Ash Wednesday, evoking
experiences of past churches that felt oppressive. I wish it were otherwise, since this Christian observance, and certainly church itself, should invite us further into God’s unending love, not exclude us or make us feel ‘unworthy.’ Indeed, the ultimate meaning, for me, of Ash Wednesday and Lent is that even something so scary and unwelcome as death, even stuff as perpetual and alienating as sin cannot “separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:39b).” I find it refreshing, empowering in fact, to stare that deep truth in the face from time to time, or to put it differently, to remind myself how firm a foundation this God we worship truly is.
And this year, we invite you to join in.
On February 25th, from 6:15-6:45 PM in the Sanctuary, we will hold a brief Ash Wednesday service, kicking off Plymouth Creek’s 2009 encounter with Lent. This year’s Lent will have a theme, aligned with the year’s congregational theme (A Table Before Me: God’s Open-Armed Adventure), and that will be Holy Adventure. Not only will Holy Adventure add another crucial dimension to our year-long exploration, it’s also
the title of a book we will study on Wednesday evenings during Lent, Holy Adventure: 40 Days of Audacious Living (more details elsewhere in the February Creeksider). In conversation with our Worship Team, we found it good to remind the church that alongside hospitality and open-armed love, the adventure God invites us on is
holy, marked by holiness. In other words, there’s something supernatural, awe-inspiring, perfect and pure embedded in God’s Creation (another word for which, I’ve learned, is Adventure), and that holiness is something we can take part in, grow in, bear witness to. It is theologically and factually true that God’s Creation/Adventure is stunningly beautiful. And, alas, we’ve smudged that beauty in some respects, as
individuals and groups of people, sometimes unwittingly so, sometimes from dubious intent. So this Ash Wednesday, we’ll acknowledge that beautiful holiness, repent of the smears we’ve added to the mix, praise God’s faithful attempts at overcoming and seek God’s guidance for our holy role in bringing eternal love to our neighborhood, society and environment.
And we’ll remember this act is not really a new venture, it’s another stop on the Adventure we began weeks, years, perhaps decades ago. For I’ve learned that Plymouth Creek already values God’s Holiness, and knows instinctively that Christ’s Holy Table is a preparation zone for Christian mission. A forehead of ashes won’t accomplish that mission in full, but it can bear witness to the fullness of Christ’s hopes that we “may be one,” gathered together into glory with open arms from a Roman cross.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Going once…Going twice…
Something many seminarians decry, once they’ve entered the workaday life of congregational ministry, is a lack of training they’ve received in so-called ‘practical matters.’ I’ve never been a big fan of this argument, but here’s how it often proceeds- New pastors receive a call, they put freshly framed diplomas and ordination certificates on their new office walls, and soon enough the Finance Team of this new church calls a meeting. The pastors sit down with these wonderful church volunteers (for the record, I will always be deeply, greatly, effusively appreciative of our volunteer Financial Team; a few members whose ministry to you and I is spending their free time going over budgets, counting pledges, implementing stewardship strategies, etc.. Thank you!! And if you want to join the Team, please, please let me know), and they begin talking “Budget.” All of sudden, new pastors feel inadequate to the task. They may be able to quote John 1:1 in Greek, or explain the two-source theory of development of the synoptic Gospels, but most pastors never took a class in financial management or organizational fund-raising. So this conversation can produce insecurity, or defensiveness, or worst of all, a deterioration of their hard-won, but sometimes fragile confidence in their own leadership ability. “If only I’d learned to use Microsoft Excel,” they bemoan, “or took a workshop on fiscal solvency in non-profit organizations…”
Perhaps there’s something to those concerns; certainly there’s something real about those feelings of stress and insufficiency. But without trying to sound too glib or insensitive, I don’t buy it. For starters, the most experienced pastors I know, even some who make the argument above, seem quite up to the task when confronted with financial management. Some are even downright creative wizards who might’ve done very well at Lehman Brothers or Bear Stearns (but are currently glad they chose a different calling). So there’s something to be said for experience being a good teacher, and that us newbie pastors should foster the patience to appreciate the many ways that non-ordained church members can help us to be better pastors. And besides, the three years I spent in seminary will be the only time in my life I will wholly focus on learning the faith as richly and comprehensively as possible. I wouldn’t give that up for classes in subjects I can learn just as well from the accountants, and bankers, and managers I’ve met in my congregations.
So when Steve Weaver sent me an email, saying, “I want to do a fund-raiser for the church,” my first thought was not, “Why didn’t I think of that?!?” I thought, “Yesssss!!!” And I hope you’ll join me in being glad that happened. Until then, I didn’t know that this is somewhat of a tradition at Plymouth Creek, a nice and joyful evening of members serving each other, giving to their church and celebrating the ministry we can do together. As I thought back on last Saturday’s auction, something fun occurred to me: that in fundraising for our mission efforts, many of us bought pies, which we subsequently shared with others. Brilliant. We commit ourselves to hospitality, and in response offer hospitality to others. Though, to be honest, if I’d bought a plate of buffalo wings, I might not have shared so easily…
The point is that in learning something new about the way that Plymouth Creek ‘does church,’ it reinforced something I did learn at seminary, and made up for some of the stuff I didn’t- This ministry is our ministry. When it comes to finances or fund-raising, we share the joy being good stewards of God’s resources for God’s outpouring of unyielding love for all Creation. In like manner, when it comes to planning and implementing other ways this community will pursue that grand calling, we share that too. I’ve been humbled thus far by the many ways you’ve undertaken that responsibility, of which Steve’s work is but one example. And thus I’m excited to see what you come up with next. No matter how hard they might try, they couldn’t teach that in seminary.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Perhaps there’s something to those concerns; certainly there’s something real about those feelings of stress and insufficiency. But without trying to sound too glib or insensitive, I don’t buy it. For starters, the most experienced pastors I know, even some who make the argument above, seem quite up to the task when confronted with financial management. Some are even downright creative wizards who might’ve done very well at Lehman Brothers or Bear Stearns (but are currently glad they chose a different calling). So there’s something to be said for experience being a good teacher, and that us newbie pastors should foster the patience to appreciate the many ways that non-ordained church members can help us to be better pastors. And besides, the three years I spent in seminary will be the only time in my life I will wholly focus on learning the faith as richly and comprehensively as possible. I wouldn’t give that up for classes in subjects I can learn just as well from the accountants, and bankers, and managers I’ve met in my congregations.
So when Steve Weaver sent me an email, saying, “I want to do a fund-raiser for the church,” my first thought was not, “Why didn’t I think of that?!?” I thought, “Yesssss!!!” And I hope you’ll join me in being glad that happened. Until then, I didn’t know that this is somewhat of a tradition at Plymouth Creek, a nice and joyful evening of members serving each other, giving to their church and celebrating the ministry we can do together. As I thought back on last Saturday’s auction, something fun occurred to me: that in fundraising for our mission efforts, many of us bought pies, which we subsequently shared with others. Brilliant. We commit ourselves to hospitality, and in response offer hospitality to others. Though, to be honest, if I’d bought a plate of buffalo wings, I might not have shared so easily…
The point is that in learning something new about the way that Plymouth Creek ‘does church,’ it reinforced something I did learn at seminary, and made up for some of the stuff I didn’t- This ministry is our ministry. When it comes to finances or fund-raising, we share the joy being good stewards of God’s resources for God’s outpouring of unyielding love for all Creation. In like manner, when it comes to planning and implementing other ways this community will pursue that grand calling, we share that too. I’ve been humbled thus far by the many ways you’ve undertaken that responsibility, of which Steve’s work is but one example. And thus I’m excited to see what you come up with next. No matter how hard they might try, they couldn’t teach that in seminary.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
I Do...
Tabitha and I are wedding planning, as you probably suspect. In case you’re wondering, the colors are ‘citrus’, the theme is ‘Panama Chique’ (where the honeymoon will be too…thanks Mom and Dad!), and of course, keeping with that idea, I’ll wear a linen suit. Truth be told, it was probably my desire to wear/purchase a linen suit that prompted the Panama theme in the first place. Provided she doesn’t smash too much cake into it, you’ll see the suit in the pulpit many a summer Sunday.
As a pastor, I’ve become used to wedding planning, from the ceremonial end of things. A couple saunters into the office, or sends an email, and we discuss how the service will transpire. I ask for their ideas and input, and typically their response is rather general. “We’re hoping for something with a traditional feeling.” “We want it to be unique, something that reflects our relationship.” I appreciate such comments, and it basically means that the details of the service are left in my hands. I’m the professional, after all. I’m supposed to know about such things.
For my wedding, however, two pastors will marry each other, so we’ve given much thought to the details of the service already. Poor Rev. Laura; she’s a brave pastor for agreeing to marry us. But having been trained in the arts of worship planning and wedding ceremony construction, we’ve encountered a number of different traditions about marriage. We’ve studied many workable models, and spent much time discussing this or that element. We also, both of us, have type A personalities, so ‘being in control’ is a temptation we face continually. And like many couples getting married, we too want the service to say something true about the shape and scope of the promises we will make to each other. As Christians, of course, the core of our convictions in this regard is that we will promise to live faithful to Jesus’ love and call on our life as we live faithful in love to one another.
Thus, I’m worried that my non-Christian friends will find the ceremony a bit off-putting. There will be much Jesus-speak involved, I can say with certainty, and as such, we will take Communion, wash our hands in remembrance of our Baptisms, ask the congregation to pray over us with a laying-on of hands, and sing a few hymns that announce God’s love for Creation and hopes for a human community shaped by mutual respect, justice and forgiveness. My fraternity buddies might think it’s all bit spooky, but being good guys, I suspect they’ll appreciate its deep meaning for Tab and I.
Since the congregation that will gather that day will include a diversity of views and spiritual opinions, we’re also concerned about two additional things: inclusive hospitality and Christian witness. Simply put, it’s a matter I believe all Christians face throughout the many dimensions of our lives. On the one hand, we want to imitate God’s respect for each person’s individual freedom to understand and approach God in her/his own fashion. On the other hand, we want each person to learn something true about God’s great love for all God’s children. If my friends can walk away from our ceremony knowing a) Tab and I authentically love Jesus, b) We respect their decision to love God/Jesus (or not) in whatever way they find most life-giving for their lives in this world, and c) God would love it if they too loved God, than the ceremony will have worked well. To accomplish all this, it’ll probably be best simply to tell a bit of our story in Christian discipleship, and why it is Jesus means so much to us and our marriage, since our friendship with non-Christians isn’t dependent on their one day ‘being like us.’
But that means we must be able to articulate clearly and respectfully why we’re on this Christian adventure in the first place. Again, I believe this is but another instance of a perpetual Christian task, important not just on our wedding day, but in the pulpit on Sundays and in the grocery store on Wednesdays. And it’s a task, opportunity really, you and I share. So why are you a Christian? Why do you continue on this Christian Adventure? How would you explain that to others? Do you want to invite others to join the Adventure? I do.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
As a pastor, I’ve become used to wedding planning, from the ceremonial end of things. A couple saunters into the office, or sends an email, and we discuss how the service will transpire. I ask for their ideas and input, and typically their response is rather general. “We’re hoping for something with a traditional feeling.” “We want it to be unique, something that reflects our relationship.” I appreciate such comments, and it basically means that the details of the service are left in my hands. I’m the professional, after all. I’m supposed to know about such things.
For my wedding, however, two pastors will marry each other, so we’ve given much thought to the details of the service already. Poor Rev. Laura; she’s a brave pastor for agreeing to marry us. But having been trained in the arts of worship planning and wedding ceremony construction, we’ve encountered a number of different traditions about marriage. We’ve studied many workable models, and spent much time discussing this or that element. We also, both of us, have type A personalities, so ‘being in control’ is a temptation we face continually. And like many couples getting married, we too want the service to say something true about the shape and scope of the promises we will make to each other. As Christians, of course, the core of our convictions in this regard is that we will promise to live faithful to Jesus’ love and call on our life as we live faithful in love to one another.
Thus, I’m worried that my non-Christian friends will find the ceremony a bit off-putting. There will be much Jesus-speak involved, I can say with certainty, and as such, we will take Communion, wash our hands in remembrance of our Baptisms, ask the congregation to pray over us with a laying-on of hands, and sing a few hymns that announce God’s love for Creation and hopes for a human community shaped by mutual respect, justice and forgiveness. My fraternity buddies might think it’s all bit spooky, but being good guys, I suspect they’ll appreciate its deep meaning for Tab and I.
Since the congregation that will gather that day will include a diversity of views and spiritual opinions, we’re also concerned about two additional things: inclusive hospitality and Christian witness. Simply put, it’s a matter I believe all Christians face throughout the many dimensions of our lives. On the one hand, we want to imitate God’s respect for each person’s individual freedom to understand and approach God in her/his own fashion. On the other hand, we want each person to learn something true about God’s great love for all God’s children. If my friends can walk away from our ceremony knowing a) Tab and I authentically love Jesus, b) We respect their decision to love God/Jesus (or not) in whatever way they find most life-giving for their lives in this world, and c) God would love it if they too loved God, than the ceremony will have worked well. To accomplish all this, it’ll probably be best simply to tell a bit of our story in Christian discipleship, and why it is Jesus means so much to us and our marriage, since our friendship with non-Christians isn’t dependent on their one day ‘being like us.’
But that means we must be able to articulate clearly and respectfully why we’re on this Christian adventure in the first place. Again, I believe this is but another instance of a perpetual Christian task, important not just on our wedding day, but in the pulpit on Sundays and in the grocery store on Wednesdays. And it’s a task, opportunity really, you and I share. So why are you a Christian? Why do you continue on this Christian Adventure? How would you explain that to others? Do you want to invite others to join the Adventure? I do.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
With Fear and Trembling…
St. Paul encourages his church in Philippi to “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling,” and that sentence has never ceased sending shivers down my skin. What in the world are you thinking, Paul?!?! This is the God of all who loves all and made all and gives all good gifts to all Creation- How could such a gift, salvation, from such a God lead to fear and trembling?!?! I think those thoughts when I read those words, and then immediately I remember, “Oh yeah. This God is Holy. Drawing near to Holiness should produce a bit of wonder, awe and trepidation.”
Which is probably why, still each and every week, I get a little ‘fear and trembling’ as I step up to the pulpit. Preaching is an act, I believe, that attempts to bring folk into God’s Holy presence through the words, images and heart-convicting thoughts of Christian scripture, and the preacher’s meager imagination. When it works (and I’ll admit, it doesn’t always), a presence moves through the church, or maybe just your mind and heart, such that you can’t quite explain it, but it’s there…you know it. Like when the preacher says something that sounds like s/he’s speaking directly to you (though the words are for the whole church), or when you nod your head unconsciously/open your lips in ‘Amen’/ vigorously shake your head ‘No Way!”, that’s (often) God’s Spirit moving you into God’s presence. Somehow. Mysteriously. Salvifically, perhaps. And if you’re like me, when you recognize that moment, fully in the present presence of God, something trembles in you; it’s scary and amazing all at once.
So when I heard the news last Sunday, that the General Minister and President of our denomination, the Rev. Dr. Sharon Watkins, will preach the sermon for the President-elect’s Inaugural Prayer Service, I was of two opinions. 1) She preaches in God’s Holy Presence all the time- so this gig’s nothing special, really. 2) OMG (text-message language for “Oh My Goodness!”), Sharon’s got some fear and trembling coming her way soon.
So which is it? Probably number 2, since being in God’s Presence, while trying to move a congregation that includes Congress, the President, the VP, the Cabinet, and, oh, the World, into God’s Presence isn’t your typical Sunday offering. But since it’s a sermon, and not a political address, at least she’ll be in Holier and more familiar waters. And from the looks of a very full comment box on disciples.org, she’ll have most of her 690,000 member church cheering her on.
I’m proud, I must say, to be a pastor in Sharon’s church, and not only because I can brag a bit how we were picked over the Presbyterians. I’m proud because this church, “A Movement for Wholeness in a Fragmented Church,” stands for unity before the God of Creation before all else. I’m proud to serve Christians committed to thoughtfulness, faithfulness, diversity and mission. I’m ecstatic to live in covenant with each of you, friends and family who come together at the Table every week, not despite but because of our differences, and endless opportunities to learn and grow with each other.
So regardless of who you voted for last November, I hope you too are proud that one of our own gets the unique chance to share our unique brand of Christian faith with our nation’s leaders. Because these are tough times, painful times for people close to us, interesting times in the most exciting and dreadful senses of that phrase. And these very leaders who will sit with Sharon next week, before the feet of God Almighty, listening (we hope) for a Word or Two of grace and challenge, will need the hospitality of a wide open-armed God, who loves us into unity sometimes without our knowing, in order to rise to the challenges we, the world, the environment, face.
May the words she utters, perhaps with fear and trembling, bring fear and trembling to these leaders for the Holiness of God and God’s Children. We deserve that kind of respect, I believe, and our lives will be kinder, more peaceful and more abundant for it. In all things I wish you,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Which is probably why, still each and every week, I get a little ‘fear and trembling’ as I step up to the pulpit. Preaching is an act, I believe, that attempts to bring folk into God’s Holy presence through the words, images and heart-convicting thoughts of Christian scripture, and the preacher’s meager imagination. When it works (and I’ll admit, it doesn’t always), a presence moves through the church, or maybe just your mind and heart, such that you can’t quite explain it, but it’s there…you know it. Like when the preacher says something that sounds like s/he’s speaking directly to you (though the words are for the whole church), or when you nod your head unconsciously/open your lips in ‘Amen’/ vigorously shake your head ‘No Way!”, that’s (often) God’s Spirit moving you into God’s presence. Somehow. Mysteriously. Salvifically, perhaps. And if you’re like me, when you recognize that moment, fully in the present presence of God, something trembles in you; it’s scary and amazing all at once.
So when I heard the news last Sunday, that the General Minister and President of our denomination, the Rev. Dr. Sharon Watkins, will preach the sermon for the President-elect’s Inaugural Prayer Service, I was of two opinions. 1) She preaches in God’s Holy Presence all the time- so this gig’s nothing special, really. 2) OMG (text-message language for “Oh My Goodness!”), Sharon’s got some fear and trembling coming her way soon.
So which is it? Probably number 2, since being in God’s Presence, while trying to move a congregation that includes Congress, the President, the VP, the Cabinet, and, oh, the World, into God’s Presence isn’t your typical Sunday offering. But since it’s a sermon, and not a political address, at least she’ll be in Holier and more familiar waters. And from the looks of a very full comment box on disciples.org, she’ll have most of her 690,000 member church cheering her on.
I’m proud, I must say, to be a pastor in Sharon’s church, and not only because I can brag a bit how we were picked over the Presbyterians. I’m proud because this church, “A Movement for Wholeness in a Fragmented Church,” stands for unity before the God of Creation before all else. I’m proud to serve Christians committed to thoughtfulness, faithfulness, diversity and mission. I’m ecstatic to live in covenant with each of you, friends and family who come together at the Table every week, not despite but because of our differences, and endless opportunities to learn and grow with each other.
So regardless of who you voted for last November, I hope you too are proud that one of our own gets the unique chance to share our unique brand of Christian faith with our nation’s leaders. Because these are tough times, painful times for people close to us, interesting times in the most exciting and dreadful senses of that phrase. And these very leaders who will sit with Sharon next week, before the feet of God Almighty, listening (we hope) for a Word or Two of grace and challenge, will need the hospitality of a wide open-armed God, who loves us into unity sometimes without our knowing, in order to rise to the challenges we, the world, the environment, face.
May the words she utters, perhaps with fear and trembling, bring fear and trembling to these leaders for the Holiness of God and God’s Children. We deserve that kind of respect, I believe, and our lives will be kinder, more peaceful and more abundant for it. In all things I wish you,
Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Sunday, January 11, 2009
And they’re off…
It’s hard to live in Lexington, KY without gaining some appreciation for horse racing. Perhaps you know already that Kentucky’s nickname, “The Bluegrass State,” refers to a very green species of grass native to the region (their springtime buds are bluish, but not the shoots), which is particularly useful for thoroughbred horses. The secret is calcium; that the high-calcium bluegrass diet of Kentucky-bred horses fortifies their bodies for the vigors of competitive racing, all because of rich limestone deposits upon which the bluegrass grows. Geologists think that has something to do with an ancient ocean in that part of the country. In any event, it’s helped create a unique culture of horse owners, breeders, vets, jockeys, enthusiasts and casual fans like myself, all of whom wait for those glorious two minutes every first Saturday of May, Derby Day, when Churchill Downs is resplendent in sartorial panache (surely you’ve seen the ladies’ hats…). The horses take a warm-up jaunt about the track, slowly to show off, gather into the gate, the bell rings, the doors open and a caller calls those famous words, a phrase we’ve waited for all year, “And they’re off!”
Phew, I need to calm down just thinking about it! But there’s good reason, I tell you, they call The Kentucky Derby the most exciting two minutes in sports. Once the starting gates open, every person in attendance or watching on TV is breathless until the race ends, either because they’re holding out, anxious to see who emerges victorious, or because they’re screaming their lungs raspy with every passion available (or because they’re in the infield, which is another matter entirely…). Now I don’t want to over-exaggerate and create false expectations, but a similar sense of anticipation is what I feel for this new year. “And they’re off!”
That, of course, has something to do with my soon-to-happen marriage (six months and counting…), and it has much to do with the idea of a whole year here in MN at Plymouth Creek. But most relevant for us this morning is the eagerness I feel for this second Sunday of January, our kick-off Sunday for the 2009 Congregational Theme- A Table Before Me: God’s Open-Armed Adventure. You’ve probably heard me talk of this already, but Kimberly reminds me that folk need to hear something five times or more, in five or so different places, before it finally sticks. So consider this number 4 (the pulpit will be 5, unsurprisingly).
Through conversation with the Board, the Servant Leaders and other teams and members of this church, we’ve decided to focus our church life this year around the particular image and idea found in the theme above. Today will be the first of four Sundays when I’ll preach about God’s Open-Armed Adventure, using four different adventure flicks to make my point. We’re kicking off new Sunday School material, focused on the Basic Adventure of Christian Faith: The Life of Christ. We’ll study a book called God’s Holy Adventure together during once-a-week weekday night classes in Lent. Our Mission Team has called for a 2009 Mission Adventure: Table Hospitality (I considered using the acronym, MATH, but figured that wouldn’t help much). And that’s just what’s cooking so far…
Maybe it seems like a little gimmicky, and perhaps it is. But more than that, we hope, is a basic truth of spiritual development: good stuff happens when people focus and make discerning choices. So because we’re committed to growing together in Christian discipleship, we’ve made a choice- to plumb the depths of Christ’s open-armed Table, and to ready ourselves for continued adventure with the God of all who calls us forth.
And so we’re off! I’m thrilled, nervous, ready and unsure all at once. But, as I keep telling myself over and over, it wouldn’t be an adventure if it felt comfortable and familiar. Fortunately, as Psalm 23:5 points out, “You (God) set a table before me” even, “in the presence of mine enemies.” And once that happens, “You (God) anoint my head with oil,” and pour out life to all, so that we each may say, “My cup runneth over.” How’s that for an adventure story?!? I’m glad you’ve joined in…
On this journey, and in all things, I wish you,
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Phew, I need to calm down just thinking about it! But there’s good reason, I tell you, they call The Kentucky Derby the most exciting two minutes in sports. Once the starting gates open, every person in attendance or watching on TV is breathless until the race ends, either because they’re holding out, anxious to see who emerges victorious, or because they’re screaming their lungs raspy with every passion available (or because they’re in the infield, which is another matter entirely…). Now I don’t want to over-exaggerate and create false expectations, but a similar sense of anticipation is what I feel for this new year. “And they’re off!”
That, of course, has something to do with my soon-to-happen marriage (six months and counting…), and it has much to do with the idea of a whole year here in MN at Plymouth Creek. But most relevant for us this morning is the eagerness I feel for this second Sunday of January, our kick-off Sunday for the 2009 Congregational Theme- A Table Before Me: God’s Open-Armed Adventure. You’ve probably heard me talk of this already, but Kimberly reminds me that folk need to hear something five times or more, in five or so different places, before it finally sticks. So consider this number 4 (the pulpit will be 5, unsurprisingly).
Through conversation with the Board, the Servant Leaders and other teams and members of this church, we’ve decided to focus our church life this year around the particular image and idea found in the theme above. Today will be the first of four Sundays when I’ll preach about God’s Open-Armed Adventure, using four different adventure flicks to make my point. We’re kicking off new Sunday School material, focused on the Basic Adventure of Christian Faith: The Life of Christ. We’ll study a book called God’s Holy Adventure together during once-a-week weekday night classes in Lent. Our Mission Team has called for a 2009 Mission Adventure: Table Hospitality (I considered using the acronym, MATH, but figured that wouldn’t help much). And that’s just what’s cooking so far…
Maybe it seems like a little gimmicky, and perhaps it is. But more than that, we hope, is a basic truth of spiritual development: good stuff happens when people focus and make discerning choices. So because we’re committed to growing together in Christian discipleship, we’ve made a choice- to plumb the depths of Christ’s open-armed Table, and to ready ourselves for continued adventure with the God of all who calls us forth.
And so we’re off! I’m thrilled, nervous, ready and unsure all at once. But, as I keep telling myself over and over, it wouldn’t be an adventure if it felt comfortable and familiar. Fortunately, as Psalm 23:5 points out, “You (God) set a table before me” even, “in the presence of mine enemies.” And once that happens, “You (God) anoint my head with oil,” and pour out life to all, so that we each may say, “My cup runneth over.” How’s that for an adventure story?!? I’m glad you’ve joined in…
On this journey, and in all things, I wish you,
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
…will fall back to me stronger…
If I can claim to have a ‘favorite poem,’ it’s an excerpt from a longer poem by W.D. Snodgrass. What I love is the central image of this poem, a father (or mother, if you prefer) pushing his daughter on a swing, reflecting on how such a small activity can describe the anticipation and heartache, rhythm and hope of parenthood. Or at least that’s my take (says the young man who’s never been a father). Apparently, Snodgrass wrote this poem after a divorce from his daughter’s mother, and what had presumably become a paternity of weekend and/or summer visitations. This strikes deep chords in my memory, having watched my half-sister Blaine’s loving, long-distance relationship with her birth father during both of our childhoods. It’s a complicated and unique form of parenting, but still, I feel this poem evokes something constant in many relationships…
For me, it’s a metaphor of our relationship with God. That’s why it hangs on the back of my office door.
I don’t suspect the poet envisioned a MN preacher using his work to grow in faith and discipleship, but in a sense every writer knows that her/his work takes on its own life once released into the world. Some even describe their words and phrases as ‘little children,’ and indeed such is a result of growing up: the child takes on her/his own life, in her/his own terms. Some, like me, live hundreds of miles away, doing things the folks never expected. Some are much closer, working on the family business or farm. Most elicit a sense of pride, I hope. Most cause moments of pain or remorse, less frequently we hope. But ideally, all parents could utter what this poet says of his girl on the swing…
Of course this, as with all metaphors, is no perfect analogy to our relationship with God, but it gets at something profound- God’s desire that we live mature, independent lives; that the passage of time marks a continued development in our spiritual, ethical, intellectual and emotional understanding of our place in this world. By this, I don’t mean that we leave God’s presence, only to return at the Holidays. Rather, I hope that our maturation in faith displays an ever-increasing capacity to discern the will of God in a broadening set of circumstances, to make moral decisions according to a learning sense of God’s justice and righteousness, to take more appropriate risks and weather the discomfort that comes with such faithful living with a deeper sense of peace. One could imagine a relationship with God that strips us of agency and responsibility for our actions; one that treats God like a big rock to hide behind, or an ever-present crutch. But I imagine otherwise. I imagine a God that breathes life into Life so all might live abundantly, fully, freely and with an impact on the future of God’s Creation. That requires an awful lot from us, surely, but as the other quote on my office door claims, “Today, perhaps more than ever, we need to live out God’s faith in humanity.”
As I mentioned, this poem speaks of parenthood and experiencing the passage of time in a child’s life. One way we, as a culture, mark time’s passing is by celebrating each New Year. So may we all, at 2009’s end, hear God say of us that we fell, “back to Me stronger.” And when that’s not the case, which it won’t always be of course, may we remember that this poem ends with what could be God’s promise for us all at every moment of our lives…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
(From Heart's Needle by W. D. Snodgrass)
Here in the scuffled dust
is our ground of play.
I lift you on your swing and must
shove you away,
see you return again,
drive you off again, then
stand quiet till you come.
You, though you climb
higher, farther from me, longer,
will fall back to me stronger.
Bad penny, pendulum,
you keep my constant time
to bob in blue July
where fat goldfinches fly
over the glittering, fecund
reach of our growing lands.
Once more now, this second,
I hold you in my hands.
Read more!
I lift you on your swing and must
shove you away,
see you return again,
drive you off again, then
stand quiet till you come.
For me, it’s a metaphor of our relationship with God. That’s why it hangs on the back of my office door.
I don’t suspect the poet envisioned a MN preacher using his work to grow in faith and discipleship, but in a sense every writer knows that her/his work takes on its own life once released into the world. Some even describe their words and phrases as ‘little children,’ and indeed such is a result of growing up: the child takes on her/his own life, in her/his own terms. Some, like me, live hundreds of miles away, doing things the folks never expected. Some are much closer, working on the family business or farm. Most elicit a sense of pride, I hope. Most cause moments of pain or remorse, less frequently we hope. But ideally, all parents could utter what this poet says of his girl on the swing…
You, though you climb
higher, farther from me, longer,
will fall back to me stronger.
Of course this, as with all metaphors, is no perfect analogy to our relationship with God, but it gets at something profound- God’s desire that we live mature, independent lives; that the passage of time marks a continued development in our spiritual, ethical, intellectual and emotional understanding of our place in this world. By this, I don’t mean that we leave God’s presence, only to return at the Holidays. Rather, I hope that our maturation in faith displays an ever-increasing capacity to discern the will of God in a broadening set of circumstances, to make moral decisions according to a learning sense of God’s justice and righteousness, to take more appropriate risks and weather the discomfort that comes with such faithful living with a deeper sense of peace. One could imagine a relationship with God that strips us of agency and responsibility for our actions; one that treats God like a big rock to hide behind, or an ever-present crutch. But I imagine otherwise. I imagine a God that breathes life into Life so all might live abundantly, fully, freely and with an impact on the future of God’s Creation. That requires an awful lot from us, surely, but as the other quote on my office door claims, “Today, perhaps more than ever, we need to live out God’s faith in humanity.”
As I mentioned, this poem speaks of parenthood and experiencing the passage of time in a child’s life. One way we, as a culture, mark time’s passing is by celebrating each New Year. So may we all, at 2009’s end, hear God say of us that we fell, “back to Me stronger.” And when that’s not the case, which it won’t always be of course, may we remember that this poem ends with what could be God’s promise for us all at every moment of our lives…
Once more now, this second,
I hold you in my hands.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
(From Heart's Needle by W. D. Snodgrass)
Here in the scuffled dust
is our ground of play.
I lift you on your swing and must
shove you away,
see you return again,
drive you off again, then
stand quiet till you come.
You, though you climb
higher, farther from me, longer,
will fall back to me stronger.
Bad penny, pendulum,
you keep my constant time
to bob in blue July
where fat goldfinches fly
over the glittering, fecund
reach of our growing lands.
Once more now, this second,
I hold you in my hands.
Read more!
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