Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Compassion Fatigue…
A father told me recently about taking his baby to the emergency room. Nothing was urgent; she just had a slight fever. Still, he was anxious, and it took awhile for the nurses to arrive. And when they did, it seems the man’s patience had eroded. He confessed, “I was testy. I doubt the nurses liked me much!” Worry has a way of encouraging our dark sides.
Afterwards, though, he admitted regret, and said he was impressed that the nurses weren’t as short as he was. After all, he surmised, caring for people is tiring. That most nurses (or social workers, or doctors, or…) don’t snap at others more often says something about their endurance, the stamina of their hearts. Because compassion fatigue is real, he claimed, our capacity for empathy is limited. Like gas in a gas tank, our hearts can deplete. Ever have another ask you for money at the end of a long day? Did you respond rather cranky? Me too…
Although, unlike a gas tank- more like a muscle, I suspect- we also have the option to get better at empathy. Ever begin lifting weights or going on runs after a months/years long break? What happened the next day? You wailed and moaned with muscle cramps! But if you pushed through and stuck to it, kept lifting or running, over days, weeks, months, the pain diminished, right? You could lift more or run longer; it took less time for your body to recover. Like that, I believe, our hearts care for others. Perhaps the first time you volunteer at the foodshelf or listen to the heartrending story of a neighbor’s loss, you feel overwhelmed, uncomfortable, unsure if you want to continue. But the more you do it, the more intentionally you love and serve and care, the more I find you’re able to abide the discomfort, keep your eyes from closing, to share your compassion and empathy with another in need.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a 20th century German pastor and theologian who I wrote about last week, spent years in a Nazi jail awaiting trial for conspiring against Hitler’s life. And something about his story I find deeply moving- and instructive- is that during his jail time, people noticed his contentment. Apparently, the man constantly ministered to others in prison; preached for fellow prisoners, led their funeral services, visited the sick, said prayers during Allied bombing raids. Cell mates commented after he was executed that he was constantly upbeat and joyful, even though his own case remained unsettled, even though his own outlook was dire. Sure, he got tired, prayed in anguish and fear at times. But more often, he overcame his compassion fatigue by helping others ride out the storm. He had trained his heart and soul, apparently, to persevere in trying times.
People talk of many different ways to build such fortitude and character, and there probably are a lot. But one tried and trustworthy technique I trust is just going out and doing it. Seeing something that requires compassion and commitment, empathy and action, and deciding to do something to help, though it’ll take work and effort and heartache. This summer, we’re exploring ‘spiritual growth’ techniques; learning from “spiritual master gardeners” about how they grew so wise and profound. This week, I want to encourage you to try Bonhoeffer’s method. Rather than pray more or read the Bible more or spend an hour in meditation, find something that frustrates you about the world, and do something to make a difference. Is it political polarization? Write your representatives a letter, describing your hope that they’ll work more closely with their opponents ‘across the aisles.’ Is it poverty in the suburbs? Call IOCP, and schedule an afternoon to work in the foodshelf. Perhaps it’s bullying in school, war in Syria or antibiotic abuse in meat production. But whatever worries your soul, don’t just complain or despair this week. Exercise your compassion muscles and act somehow to make a change. Trust me- or Bonhoeffer- it’ll do your soul good. You may even grow closer to that fount of every blessing, the God we worship, whose name is Love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Afterwards, though, he admitted regret, and said he was impressed that the nurses weren’t as short as he was. After all, he surmised, caring for people is tiring. That most nurses (or social workers, or doctors, or…) don’t snap at others more often says something about their endurance, the stamina of their hearts. Because compassion fatigue is real, he claimed, our capacity for empathy is limited. Like gas in a gas tank, our hearts can deplete. Ever have another ask you for money at the end of a long day? Did you respond rather cranky? Me too…
Although, unlike a gas tank- more like a muscle, I suspect- we also have the option to get better at empathy. Ever begin lifting weights or going on runs after a months/years long break? What happened the next day? You wailed and moaned with muscle cramps! But if you pushed through and stuck to it, kept lifting or running, over days, weeks, months, the pain diminished, right? You could lift more or run longer; it took less time for your body to recover. Like that, I believe, our hearts care for others. Perhaps the first time you volunteer at the foodshelf or listen to the heartrending story of a neighbor’s loss, you feel overwhelmed, uncomfortable, unsure if you want to continue. But the more you do it, the more intentionally you love and serve and care, the more I find you’re able to abide the discomfort, keep your eyes from closing, to share your compassion and empathy with another in need.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a 20th century German pastor and theologian who I wrote about last week, spent years in a Nazi jail awaiting trial for conspiring against Hitler’s life. And something about his story I find deeply moving- and instructive- is that during his jail time, people noticed his contentment. Apparently, the man constantly ministered to others in prison; preached for fellow prisoners, led their funeral services, visited the sick, said prayers during Allied bombing raids. Cell mates commented after he was executed that he was constantly upbeat and joyful, even though his own case remained unsettled, even though his own outlook was dire. Sure, he got tired, prayed in anguish and fear at times. But more often, he overcame his compassion fatigue by helping others ride out the storm. He had trained his heart and soul, apparently, to persevere in trying times.
People talk of many different ways to build such fortitude and character, and there probably are a lot. But one tried and trustworthy technique I trust is just going out and doing it. Seeing something that requires compassion and commitment, empathy and action, and deciding to do something to help, though it’ll take work and effort and heartache. This summer, we’re exploring ‘spiritual growth’ techniques; learning from “spiritual master gardeners” about how they grew so wise and profound. This week, I want to encourage you to try Bonhoeffer’s method. Rather than pray more or read the Bible more or spend an hour in meditation, find something that frustrates you about the world, and do something to make a difference. Is it political polarization? Write your representatives a letter, describing your hope that they’ll work more closely with their opponents ‘across the aisles.’ Is it poverty in the suburbs? Call IOCP, and schedule an afternoon to work in the foodshelf. Perhaps it’s bullying in school, war in Syria or antibiotic abuse in meat production. But whatever worries your soul, don’t just complain or despair this week. Exercise your compassion muscles and act somehow to make a change. Trust me- or Bonhoeffer- it’ll do your soul good. You may even grow closer to that fount of every blessing, the God we worship, whose name is Love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Cost of Discipleship…
I first encountered Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a mid-20th century German theologian, the summer following my junior year in college. You see, that summer I had my first “ministry job.” I was a high school ministry intern in San Antonio, and my boss believed Bonhoeffer’s book- “The Cost of Discipleship”- good preparation for youth ministry. It was, then. There was something to his bold, uncompromising ideas that stirred my soul. For, as a youth, I yearned for power and purpose. Thus, while ministering to high schoolers, I found Bonhoeffer a Godsend. Even if my boss made me read him!
Looking back, I’m less impressed now by Bonhoeffer’s dogged certainty in “The Cost of Discipleship”. Nevertheless, I’m still drawn in by much of what he said, did, wrote and questioned, and for the next couple weeks, I want to share that with you.
Recall the project I laid out for our church’s summer. Every couple weeks, we’ll explore writings of selected spiritual gurus, the idea being to dig deep in the rich soil of these “spiritual master gardeners.” And in pairing their work with Bible verses, along with trying out various spiritual practices, perhaps we’ll find new ways to personally achieve that ever-elusive apparition, “spiritual growth.”
And first up - you guessed it- is Dietrich Bonhoeffer. More specifically, his idea in “The Cost of Discipleship” about “cheap v. costly grace.” Now, Christians love to talk about grace, amen?! The free gift of God’s love, revealed by Jesus’ Resurrection, Grace is at the Christian Project’s heart. But nice as that sounds, Bonhoeffer suggests, Grace can also be dangerous. We can get so excited about how free it is, how comfy it seems, we let it justify complacency and spiritual compromise.
But Christian living isn’t simply about believing in God, he goes on. It’s a life of discipleship, an on-going attempt to follow Jesus. Sure, unlike the first disciples, we can’t see Jesus or ask him questions. But we have inklings of what he taught, how he lived, and thus, where he might lead us today. And much evidence points to ways of living that are more full, abundant, profound- but costly- than saying, “I’m Christian 'cause I attend church. Sometimes.”
Rather, Bonhoeffer continues, “When Christ calls a (person), he bids (her) come, and die.” To which I respond, “Yikes! Really, Dietrich?! It’s that hard to follow Jesus?!” And maybe it is; consider where he ended up… But Jesus also claimed, “My yoke is easy. My burden is light.” What’s going on?
Again, Bonhoeffer- “Cheap grace is grace without discipleship…Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again…such grace is costly because it calls us to follow…costs a (person her) life. But it is grace because it gives a (person) the only true life.” I don’t know what you make of that, but I find it…intriguing.
So this week, ponder and chew over that notion. Send an email or call if it sparks an insight. And for our spiritual practice, let’s start at the heart of all spiritual practices: prayer. Simple, easy. Or not. Bonhoeffer warns, “Jesus teaches his disciples to pray…(for) prayer is by no means an obvious or natural activity.” Ever tried to pray and wasn’t sure of what to say? Join the club! So this week- whether prayer’s a daily, weekly or annual event in your life- try this: Every day or two, write a letter to God like you would to a friend overseas. Knowing that friend isn’t close, might need explanation of what’s happening, simply start, “Dear God, I hope you’re well. I’m feeling…” and go from there. I know God’s apparently ‘omnipresent’, but it doesn’t always feel that way, to many. So maybe this ‘prayer letter’ will feel more natural than other forms. And if you normally have a constant, intimate conversation with God, try letter writing to discover alternative prayer practices. After all, the goal of ‘spiritual growth’ is exploring the infinite reality we call God, not “winning a prize” or “arriving at the destination.” Or, as Bonhoeffer says, it’s to simply follow as best we can. Trusting the Guide will guide us where we need go.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Looking back, I’m less impressed now by Bonhoeffer’s dogged certainty in “The Cost of Discipleship”. Nevertheless, I’m still drawn in by much of what he said, did, wrote and questioned, and for the next couple weeks, I want to share that with you.
Recall the project I laid out for our church’s summer. Every couple weeks, we’ll explore writings of selected spiritual gurus, the idea being to dig deep in the rich soil of these “spiritual master gardeners.” And in pairing their work with Bible verses, along with trying out various spiritual practices, perhaps we’ll find new ways to personally achieve that ever-elusive apparition, “spiritual growth.”
And first up - you guessed it- is Dietrich Bonhoeffer. More specifically, his idea in “The Cost of Discipleship” about “cheap v. costly grace.” Now, Christians love to talk about grace, amen?! The free gift of God’s love, revealed by Jesus’ Resurrection, Grace is at the Christian Project’s heart. But nice as that sounds, Bonhoeffer suggests, Grace can also be dangerous. We can get so excited about how free it is, how comfy it seems, we let it justify complacency and spiritual compromise.
But Christian living isn’t simply about believing in God, he goes on. It’s a life of discipleship, an on-going attempt to follow Jesus. Sure, unlike the first disciples, we can’t see Jesus or ask him questions. But we have inklings of what he taught, how he lived, and thus, where he might lead us today. And much evidence points to ways of living that are more full, abundant, profound- but costly- than saying, “I’m Christian 'cause I attend church. Sometimes.”
Rather, Bonhoeffer continues, “When Christ calls a (person), he bids (her) come, and die.” To which I respond, “Yikes! Really, Dietrich?! It’s that hard to follow Jesus?!” And maybe it is; consider where he ended up… But Jesus also claimed, “My yoke is easy. My burden is light.” What’s going on?
Again, Bonhoeffer- “Cheap grace is grace without discipleship…Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again…such grace is costly because it calls us to follow…costs a (person her) life. But it is grace because it gives a (person) the only true life.” I don’t know what you make of that, but I find it…intriguing.
So this week, ponder and chew over that notion. Send an email or call if it sparks an insight. And for our spiritual practice, let’s start at the heart of all spiritual practices: prayer. Simple, easy. Or not. Bonhoeffer warns, “Jesus teaches his disciples to pray…(for) prayer is by no means an obvious or natural activity.” Ever tried to pray and wasn’t sure of what to say? Join the club! So this week- whether prayer’s a daily, weekly or annual event in your life- try this: Every day or two, write a letter to God like you would to a friend overseas. Knowing that friend isn’t close, might need explanation of what’s happening, simply start, “Dear God, I hope you’re well. I’m feeling…” and go from there. I know God’s apparently ‘omnipresent’, but it doesn’t always feel that way, to many. So maybe this ‘prayer letter’ will feel more natural than other forms. And if you normally have a constant, intimate conversation with God, try letter writing to discover alternative prayer practices. After all, the goal of ‘spiritual growth’ is exploring the infinite reality we call God, not “winning a prize” or “arriving at the destination.” Or, as Bonhoeffer says, it’s to simply follow as best we can. Trusting the Guide will guide us where we need go.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
What’s the Wow!…
Why do you come to worship? When you come to worship…! To sing a long favorite song? Discover something new in scripture? Does the sermon most pique your interest? Meeting and greeting new friends? Or maybe worship has simply become a routine in your life. You attend because you’ve always attended, as your parents before you.
Do also you come to worship to encounter God? Not that you can’t do that at home in prayer, wandering awestruck through nature, devouring a great meal with friends you adore. As Isaiah 6 says, “The whole earth is full of God’s glory!” But something about worship changes the game; helps us put distractions aside and focus on the divine realities of life. At least, that’s how worship ought work when it’s working well. But whatever the reason, I presume it’s true that there’s a hunger, a hope, a holy opportunity we seek to claim that keeps us coming back, longing for Grace.
Now being in my sixth year of professional worship leadership, one thing I’ve learned is that we’ve all got many reasons. No one answer works for anyone, not all the time. And because of that variety, that evolution of experience, a good worshipping church is never satisfied. Rather, they take seriously the idea that we’re created in the Creator’s image, which is to say we’re created to create. To always seek what else is possible- in the world through justice and compassion, in our spiritual lives through prayer and meditation, in our families and communities through intimacy and relationship, and in our churches through new forms of worship. It’s fashionable to focus that creative attention on music, and good worshipping churches do sing new songs, while honoring older ones; try on new forms, while enjoying the familiar. But worship is more than hymnals and praise music. It’s praying, witnessing, sharing, receiving, lifting all our gifts to God in praise!
All of which is prelude to an idea I heard recently. A church in California I had the honor to visit in April has a guiding principle for their worship life that I want to explore with you. While planning worship, their pastors, musicians and worship leaders ask a simple question- In the upcoming service, what will be the Wow?! The theory is that while much of their service retains traditional forms, instruments, etc., they’re not content with just going through the motions. Instead, every service, they hope to offer worshippers something more, something unexpected perhaps, or something advertised well in advance. But whatever it is, it needs to be something they don’t do every week. And it needs to (hopefully) lead people to say Wow!
Here are examples- A Poetry Sunday where people in the pews share their own work, a skit during the offering that explores some spiritual theme, an unexpected introit by the choir or a visiting group, a sermon series on movies, a day of holy hilarity and levity. Wow can be said enthusiastically- “Wow! Did you see that!?!?” Wow can be barely uttered- “Wooow. That was so…nice.” However it’s said, though, the goal is to get folks to say it, to walk out of church feeling great about worshipping.
I wonder if Plymouth Creek could plan a series of Wows in coming months, and more especially, I wonder if you’d help me do it? I’d love to gather a group of folk to brainstorm a variety of ways we can inspire worshippers to walk out feeling Wowed. Ideally, we’d look at the calendar from September through next May, and something every Sunday that may elicit a Wow. Will you help with that? If so, email me or pull me aside the next Sunday I’m in church (June 17- the Annual Congregational Meeting). And together we’ll work on adding new wrinkles to our worship. And if this isn’t the right idea, I’m sure we’ll discover another. For we don’t just want to do what we’ve always done, do we church? We want to worship! Which is to say honor our Creator’s creativity through our creativeness too!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Do also you come to worship to encounter God? Not that you can’t do that at home in prayer, wandering awestruck through nature, devouring a great meal with friends you adore. As Isaiah 6 says, “The whole earth is full of God’s glory!” But something about worship changes the game; helps us put distractions aside and focus on the divine realities of life. At least, that’s how worship ought work when it’s working well. But whatever the reason, I presume it’s true that there’s a hunger, a hope, a holy opportunity we seek to claim that keeps us coming back, longing for Grace.
Now being in my sixth year of professional worship leadership, one thing I’ve learned is that we’ve all got many reasons. No one answer works for anyone, not all the time. And because of that variety, that evolution of experience, a good worshipping church is never satisfied. Rather, they take seriously the idea that we’re created in the Creator’s image, which is to say we’re created to create. To always seek what else is possible- in the world through justice and compassion, in our spiritual lives through prayer and meditation, in our families and communities through intimacy and relationship, and in our churches through new forms of worship. It’s fashionable to focus that creative attention on music, and good worshipping churches do sing new songs, while honoring older ones; try on new forms, while enjoying the familiar. But worship is more than hymnals and praise music. It’s praying, witnessing, sharing, receiving, lifting all our gifts to God in praise!
All of which is prelude to an idea I heard recently. A church in California I had the honor to visit in April has a guiding principle for their worship life that I want to explore with you. While planning worship, their pastors, musicians and worship leaders ask a simple question- In the upcoming service, what will be the Wow?! The theory is that while much of their service retains traditional forms, instruments, etc., they’re not content with just going through the motions. Instead, every service, they hope to offer worshippers something more, something unexpected perhaps, or something advertised well in advance. But whatever it is, it needs to be something they don’t do every week. And it needs to (hopefully) lead people to say Wow!
Here are examples- A Poetry Sunday where people in the pews share their own work, a skit during the offering that explores some spiritual theme, an unexpected introit by the choir or a visiting group, a sermon series on movies, a day of holy hilarity and levity. Wow can be said enthusiastically- “Wow! Did you see that!?!?” Wow can be barely uttered- “Wooow. That was so…nice.” However it’s said, though, the goal is to get folks to say it, to walk out of church feeling great about worshipping.
I wonder if Plymouth Creek could plan a series of Wows in coming months, and more especially, I wonder if you’d help me do it? I’d love to gather a group of folk to brainstorm a variety of ways we can inspire worshippers to walk out feeling Wowed. Ideally, we’d look at the calendar from September through next May, and something every Sunday that may elicit a Wow. Will you help with that? If so, email me or pull me aside the next Sunday I’m in church (June 17- the Annual Congregational Meeting). And together we’ll work on adding new wrinkles to our worship. And if this isn’t the right idea, I’m sure we’ll discover another. For we don’t just want to do what we’ve always done, do we church? We want to worship! Which is to say honor our Creator’s creativity through our creativeness too!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
I believe in…
Watch out! Call the Church Police! Shane’s gonna do something Disciples of Christ pastors just don’t do…. Let me write today, my friends, about creeds.
You know, those ancient lists of doctrines beginning, “I believe in…”? For those reading on-line, here’re a couple links to famous creeds. For those reading during my Sunday sermon, locate pages 358-361 in our hymnal. Since we Disciples don’t like creeds (“No Creed but Christ,” being a famous denominational slogan), we dub these “Affirmations of Faith.” But most Christians use “creed,” and frequently recite one during worship.
Well, the other day, while worshipping with young adult clergy from a variety of Protestant Traditions, I experienced something so moving, my eyes flooded with tears of praise. And the instigator was- I confess- a creed.
Or, more accurately, a joint reflection on the Nicene Creed. It occurred when our worship leader projected this most-famous of Christian texts onto the screens in our worship space (wouldn’t it be awesome if we had screens at church…!). Then, acknowledging that not every worshipper’s church affirmed creeds, she invited us not to recite the creed together, but to read the words, pray silently, then lift our voices to declare whatever we believed.
So, we did. Some people, for whom those Nicene words carry great personal meaning, quoted phrases directly, like, “I believe in one God…maker of heaven and earth.” Others shared simple gifts like, “I believe in love”, or, “I believe in good news.” Having grown up reciting the Nicene Creed, I resonate with much of its language. Although, being a true-blue Disciple now, I feel free to make amendments. Thus, I said, “I believe in the future of the holy catholic church,” since whatever the doomsayers say, I think Christian churches still have a powerful mission of love to fulfill. (Fyi, ‘catholic’ in this statement has nothing to do with Rome and the Pope. It simply means ‘universal’, i.e. all Christians across time, throughout the world).
To someone not in the room, this worship act might sound boring. But believe me, mine weren’t the only wet eyes. Of course, as happens, the sharing started slowly. It took half a minute for the first person to speak. But once the dam was cracked, many voices flooded in. And soon, it was clear that the people in this room believed! Not in the same things in the same ways, certainly. We were diverse, and disparate, and more lovely for that being true. But we were united by a greater force- the God who inspired our spirits to belief. Who gave us faith beyond understanding, and urged us to share it.
And I learned anew that it’s a powerful thing when someone else shows you that she believes; deeply believes in something powerful and profound and good. But what’s especially neat is when this sharing isn’t meant to change your mind, or force you ‘to pick sides’, or make you feel dumb. For, too often in our culture, I feel, that’s what people do with belief. They use it as dividing tool, a blunt attacking instrument. Like someone might invest belief in some cause or doctrine or politician, then ‘share’ that belief on facebook, blogs, news programs or Thanksgiving tables. But not in ways meant to reveal to her neighbor what truly motivates her, thereby fostering intimacy and dignity. But in intimidating ways, an administration of a litmus test. Churches have so misused creeds before, thus I no longer trust them myself. But if used in holy fashion, if you tear down facades of fear and insecurity and honestly reveal to your neighbors what burns deep in that corner of your heart where passion feeds the soul, then…wow…belief can be incredible. It can build community; inspire action; dare I say it- change lives. At the very least, this exercise reminded me that I’m not alone. Turns out there are many good people of humble-striving faith who’ve chosen to believe. To not simply wander through life, but to stand for something, to stake a claim.
So, that said, I wonder how you’d finish this sentence- “I believe in…”
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
You know, those ancient lists of doctrines beginning, “I believe in…”? For those reading on-line, here’re a couple links to famous creeds. For those reading during my Sunday sermon, locate pages 358-361 in our hymnal. Since we Disciples don’t like creeds (“No Creed but Christ,” being a famous denominational slogan), we dub these “Affirmations of Faith.” But most Christians use “creed,” and frequently recite one during worship.
Well, the other day, while worshipping with young adult clergy from a variety of Protestant Traditions, I experienced something so moving, my eyes flooded with tears of praise. And the instigator was- I confess- a creed.
Or, more accurately, a joint reflection on the Nicene Creed. It occurred when our worship leader projected this most-famous of Christian texts onto the screens in our worship space (wouldn’t it be awesome if we had screens at church…!). Then, acknowledging that not every worshipper’s church affirmed creeds, she invited us not to recite the creed together, but to read the words, pray silently, then lift our voices to declare whatever we believed.
So, we did. Some people, for whom those Nicene words carry great personal meaning, quoted phrases directly, like, “I believe in one God…maker of heaven and earth.” Others shared simple gifts like, “I believe in love”, or, “I believe in good news.” Having grown up reciting the Nicene Creed, I resonate with much of its language. Although, being a true-blue Disciple now, I feel free to make amendments. Thus, I said, “I believe in the future of the holy catholic church,” since whatever the doomsayers say, I think Christian churches still have a powerful mission of love to fulfill. (Fyi, ‘catholic’ in this statement has nothing to do with Rome and the Pope. It simply means ‘universal’, i.e. all Christians across time, throughout the world).
To someone not in the room, this worship act might sound boring. But believe me, mine weren’t the only wet eyes. Of course, as happens, the sharing started slowly. It took half a minute for the first person to speak. But once the dam was cracked, many voices flooded in. And soon, it was clear that the people in this room believed! Not in the same things in the same ways, certainly. We were diverse, and disparate, and more lovely for that being true. But we were united by a greater force- the God who inspired our spirits to belief. Who gave us faith beyond understanding, and urged us to share it.
And I learned anew that it’s a powerful thing when someone else shows you that she believes; deeply believes in something powerful and profound and good. But what’s especially neat is when this sharing isn’t meant to change your mind, or force you ‘to pick sides’, or make you feel dumb. For, too often in our culture, I feel, that’s what people do with belief. They use it as dividing tool, a blunt attacking instrument. Like someone might invest belief in some cause or doctrine or politician, then ‘share’ that belief on facebook, blogs, news programs or Thanksgiving tables. But not in ways meant to reveal to her neighbor what truly motivates her, thereby fostering intimacy and dignity. But in intimidating ways, an administration of a litmus test. Churches have so misused creeds before, thus I no longer trust them myself. But if used in holy fashion, if you tear down facades of fear and insecurity and honestly reveal to your neighbors what burns deep in that corner of your heart where passion feeds the soul, then…wow…belief can be incredible. It can build community; inspire action; dare I say it- change lives. At the very least, this exercise reminded me that I’m not alone. Turns out there are many good people of humble-striving faith who’ve chosen to believe. To not simply wander through life, but to stand for something, to stake a claim.
So, that said, I wonder how you’d finish this sentence- “I believe in…”
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Dirt and money…
The past few weeks, we’ve explored our church’s “core values” during worship. Freedom of belief. Unconditional hospitality. Joyful service. Friendly, intimate community. It’s part of our annual stewardship campaign, when we ask members to turn in pledge cards informing the Board how much money we can expect for fiscal 2012-13’s Operating Budget, which begins June 1 (please turn in pledges by this Sunday!). And the reason we explored core values is to remind ourselves Why We Give, since church donations are about so much more than keeping lights on or meeting payroll. At the same time, we’ve prepared to open the Plymouth Creek Community Garden for the second year in a row. That occurs this week- Tuesday, the 15th. Thus, we’ve had a busy month!
Now, these various projects may seem like different pursuits. Money and dirt often don’t go hand-in-hand, after all. I, however, think the two are different sides of the same spiritual coin. For they’re both about stewardship- one of God’s financial gifts to our family and church, the other of God’s material gifts of Creation to all people.
Remember the parable Jesus told about a rich man going on vacation? For whatever reason, this guy decided to travel to another land. And since Delta airlines had few routes out of Nazareth back then, it seems the rich man’s travel would take months. So he gathered his stewards- his property managers- and gave to each various sums of his wealth to look after. And when he returned, naturally, he called the three in for an accounting. To two he said, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your master.” Why? Well, they put his money to work during his absence and returned to him principal plus interest. But the last, who dug a hole and hid his portion, received a, “For shame!” Not because he lost the money, but because he took no risk.
Of course, it’d be unfair to read into this story a kind of proto-capitalism, God saying, “Let’s all invest God’s gifts aggressively in volatile financial markets.” Perhaps there’s something of that in the story, but hopefully, it goes deeper. I prefer to think it’s about the dynamic of courage and fear. One reason we (or at least I) don’t give as much as possible (of my money, time, or talents) to worthy causes is because we (I) get afraid about what’ll happen if it goes wrong. In other words, it takes courage to give. And that’s as true for simple gifts- like roses for a beloved, or advice to a child- as it is for a $30,000 pledge to pave the parking lot! Something folk rarely think about, though, is the loss of not giving, the unrealized new gains of love, of ministry, of new creations if we just let lands lay fallow.
The second Creation story in the Bible (and yes, there’re two – Genesis 1 & 2), speaks of Creation as a Garden that God expects humans “to till.” In other words, in the divine imagination, conservation of God’s gifts is as much about cultivation as protection. Sure, we can take this idea too far, cultivating so much for our own indulgence we knock the entire system out of balance. It seems to me the greatest challenge facing humanity in the future is restoring a healthy balance between our wants and the environment’s needs. But just as the master in Jesus’ story hoped his stewards would put his money to work, the master of Creation celebrates the creativity of human cultivation. Like when last year, our church decided to stop ignoring our western-most property, and opened it as gardens to our neighbors. It took a little work, but now that resource is returning investments. Of health for local families, of relief to their grocery budgets, of renewed vitality to the soil and land, organically cultivated and sustained.
So may you, this week, pray God’s guidance over the many resources entrusted to your care. Do some require greater cultivation? How can you do that for the common good?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Now, these various projects may seem like different pursuits. Money and dirt often don’t go hand-in-hand, after all. I, however, think the two are different sides of the same spiritual coin. For they’re both about stewardship- one of God’s financial gifts to our family and church, the other of God’s material gifts of Creation to all people.
Remember the parable Jesus told about a rich man going on vacation? For whatever reason, this guy decided to travel to another land. And since Delta airlines had few routes out of Nazareth back then, it seems the rich man’s travel would take months. So he gathered his stewards- his property managers- and gave to each various sums of his wealth to look after. And when he returned, naturally, he called the three in for an accounting. To two he said, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your master.” Why? Well, they put his money to work during his absence and returned to him principal plus interest. But the last, who dug a hole and hid his portion, received a, “For shame!” Not because he lost the money, but because he took no risk.
Of course, it’d be unfair to read into this story a kind of proto-capitalism, God saying, “Let’s all invest God’s gifts aggressively in volatile financial markets.” Perhaps there’s something of that in the story, but hopefully, it goes deeper. I prefer to think it’s about the dynamic of courage and fear. One reason we (or at least I) don’t give as much as possible (of my money, time, or talents) to worthy causes is because we (I) get afraid about what’ll happen if it goes wrong. In other words, it takes courage to give. And that’s as true for simple gifts- like roses for a beloved, or advice to a child- as it is for a $30,000 pledge to pave the parking lot! Something folk rarely think about, though, is the loss of not giving, the unrealized new gains of love, of ministry, of new creations if we just let lands lay fallow.
The second Creation story in the Bible (and yes, there’re two – Genesis 1 & 2), speaks of Creation as a Garden that God expects humans “to till.” In other words, in the divine imagination, conservation of God’s gifts is as much about cultivation as protection. Sure, we can take this idea too far, cultivating so much for our own indulgence we knock the entire system out of balance. It seems to me the greatest challenge facing humanity in the future is restoring a healthy balance between our wants and the environment’s needs. But just as the master in Jesus’ story hoped his stewards would put his money to work, the master of Creation celebrates the creativity of human cultivation. Like when last year, our church decided to stop ignoring our western-most property, and opened it as gardens to our neighbors. It took a little work, but now that resource is returning investments. Of health for local families, of relief to their grocery budgets, of renewed vitality to the soil and land, organically cultivated and sustained.
So may you, this week, pray God’s guidance over the many resources entrusted to your care. Do some require greater cultivation? How can you do that for the common good?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Sounds in silence…
For the past three and a half years, I’ve received an incredible gift. During that time, as you may know, every six months I’ve joined 40ish fellow young adult, Disciples of Christ pastors for a week of spiritual renewal, professional development and mentorship. With new ministers from around the country, I’ve descended on retreat centers in locales east, west, north and south (all on someone else’s dime!). We’ve visited a range of successful, creative ministries, learning new tricks of the trade. But most importantly, we’ve enjoyed each other’s company, shared each other’s stories, laughed together, prayed together, cried together. But now, my time with this group- The Bethany Fellows- has ended.
It’s a bittersweet feeling, knowing that I’m moving on. I’ve grown accustomed to the six-month rhythm of work, retreat, work, retreat. And I’m going to miss being with my friends more than I can describe. Still, I feel ready to move on, having received what the program intended. You see, the reason the Lilly Foundation gave our denomination the funds for this project is because they believe that the beginning of a new minister’s career is critical. Studies show that up to 40% leave ministry within five years, mostly because we often find ourselves isolated and inadequately prepared. But they figured that with a little extra support, the trend could be reversed. And in my case at least, it worked. Because of my Bethany experience, I have colleagues and mentors to call on, people to solve problems with, cherished memories that give me strength. Thus, in my sixth year of professional ministry, I feel prepared to endure for the long haul. Or, as I’ve described to others, “I’m a big boy minister now.” And this gift of work, retreat, work, retreat, has made much of the difference.
But perhaps the most unexpected, though welcome, gift Bethany gave me- and one I’d encourage you to consider for your own spiritual journey- is the gift of silence. Recall that on Wednesday of these weeks, each Fellow commits to not speaking. We might read, pray, write, sleep, take long walks, ‘be spiritual.’ But the only sounds that clutter our brain space are those created by others. Not a typical day, right?! And that’s the whole point. How often in our everyday lives do we shut up and just be with God? In the morning, during church, as we lay ourselves down to sleep? But that’s usually just momentary, a brief respite from the hectic. Or maybe silence clouds your life more than you’d prefer, though not the kind that’s intentionally prayerful. Rather, it’s a silence created by the lack of others to speak with. And the result can be, whatever shape your life takes, that God remains an acquaintance.
During days of Bethany silence, however, I’ve discovered how loud the world can be. Winds rustling falling leaves. Fans circulating conditioned air. But most especially, I’ve heard the inner voice of God’s Spirit whispering words of grace and challenge. “Shane, why don’t you share with me your fears and dreams more often?” “Shane, Jesus loves you, as much as you believed when you sung the song in grade three.” “Shane, do you yearn for God’s Kingdom to come on earth as much as you desire affirmation or respect?” Of course, it’s not like a real, audible voice says this to me! Rather, in my prayerful silence, my spirit seems more attentive, more receptive, more creative. But it takes longer than a brief word of grace before breakfast for that focus to emerge. Often, it’s early evening or later when I’ve found myself ready to receive.
Now, don’t hear my saying that I think you need regular, intentional days of silence to be a good, faithful Christian! But ask yourself whether such an activity might actually prove useful? How long has it been since you’ve taken time for a full, deep, rich conversation with God? You know, the kind you might have with a close, life-long friend? After all, as the old hymn goes, what a friend we have in Jesus! At least, what a friend we can have, if we’d give ourselves the opportunity.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
It’s a bittersweet feeling, knowing that I’m moving on. I’ve grown accustomed to the six-month rhythm of work, retreat, work, retreat. And I’m going to miss being with my friends more than I can describe. Still, I feel ready to move on, having received what the program intended. You see, the reason the Lilly Foundation gave our denomination the funds for this project is because they believe that the beginning of a new minister’s career is critical. Studies show that up to 40% leave ministry within five years, mostly because we often find ourselves isolated and inadequately prepared. But they figured that with a little extra support, the trend could be reversed. And in my case at least, it worked. Because of my Bethany experience, I have colleagues and mentors to call on, people to solve problems with, cherished memories that give me strength. Thus, in my sixth year of professional ministry, I feel prepared to endure for the long haul. Or, as I’ve described to others, “I’m a big boy minister now.” And this gift of work, retreat, work, retreat, has made much of the difference.
But perhaps the most unexpected, though welcome, gift Bethany gave me- and one I’d encourage you to consider for your own spiritual journey- is the gift of silence. Recall that on Wednesday of these weeks, each Fellow commits to not speaking. We might read, pray, write, sleep, take long walks, ‘be spiritual.’ But the only sounds that clutter our brain space are those created by others. Not a typical day, right?! And that’s the whole point. How often in our everyday lives do we shut up and just be with God? In the morning, during church, as we lay ourselves down to sleep? But that’s usually just momentary, a brief respite from the hectic. Or maybe silence clouds your life more than you’d prefer, though not the kind that’s intentionally prayerful. Rather, it’s a silence created by the lack of others to speak with. And the result can be, whatever shape your life takes, that God remains an acquaintance.
During days of Bethany silence, however, I’ve discovered how loud the world can be. Winds rustling falling leaves. Fans circulating conditioned air. But most especially, I’ve heard the inner voice of God’s Spirit whispering words of grace and challenge. “Shane, why don’t you share with me your fears and dreams more often?” “Shane, Jesus loves you, as much as you believed when you sung the song in grade three.” “Shane, do you yearn for God’s Kingdom to come on earth as much as you desire affirmation or respect?” Of course, it’s not like a real, audible voice says this to me! Rather, in my prayerful silence, my spirit seems more attentive, more receptive, more creative. But it takes longer than a brief word of grace before breakfast for that focus to emerge. Often, it’s early evening or later when I’ve found myself ready to receive.
Now, don’t hear my saying that I think you need regular, intentional days of silence to be a good, faithful Christian! But ask yourself whether such an activity might actually prove useful? How long has it been since you’ve taken time for a full, deep, rich conversation with God? You know, the kind you might have with a close, life-long friend? After all, as the old hymn goes, what a friend we have in Jesus! At least, what a friend we can have, if we’d give ourselves the opportunity.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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