I’ve had the earth on my mind as of late. Our community garden will open soon. A member donated a new dishwasher to us so we can waste less and care for Creation more. To do that, by the way, we all must bring coffee cups to church, which we’ll use during fellowship (instead of Styrofoam). And to make that happen, we’re setting a fun goal for June 1, that every Plymouth Creeker brings an “ugly mug” to worship. Whomever’s submission is deemed the most wonderfully “ugly mug” gets a free bag of coffee or box of tea from our earth-friendly, free-trade Equal Exchange store. We’ll then hang the mugs on our coat rack and place in the dishwasher after using. The child care center will replace for us once clean, and our waste will decline, and the earth will say, Wahoo!
And not only our waste will decline, but so too has waste from the child care center already. They’re daily making use of it, lowering our facility’s environmental impact dramatically. It also lowers their operating costs, ensuring they can focus better on their kids and teachers. When the church is a good partner with God’s Creation and our neighbors, we do God’s work. Simple as that.
Which brings me to another way I’ve been thinking about the earth: the church’s long-term relationship with our child care center tenant. As you know, Yellow Brick Road has operated in our facility over the past seven years. During that time, their business has grown and improved, as has their working relationship with us. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship. YBR keeps costs for families well below their competitors because they rent with us. That allows some families who otherwise can’t find quality, affordable early learning to do exactly that! At the same time, PCCC could not sustain our current budget without YBR’s contribution. That means the worship, choir, small groups, outreach, fellowship, funerals, etc. wouldn’t take place if not for our YBR friends.
But the relationship comes with costs as well as benefits, which understand better now than ever. We each have growth pressures we struggle to meet with the other in our spaces. PCCC incurs significant facility depreciation costs as 40+ young ones joyfully run around daily. In a couple years, their lease will end, so we’re thinking about the future now. And as that’s occurred, a solution has emerged that I wanted to share with you.
Namely, we need to build; a new wing for primarily child care center use. It will be available for church use when necessary, but will mostly house YBR’s operations. The Board considered this idea at its March retreat, and it appeared good stewardship of God’s gifts and mission to us. Plans are still under discussion; a buildings team is working with YBR to achieve what’s best for both entities. FYI, some of the current arrangement will remain, like the nursery and toddler classroom.
But gone will the Sunday slog of chairs and tables out of the sanctuary into fellowship hall. Gone will be kids daily running up and down our main hallway and narthex. Gone will be our rarely scheduling weekday/night activities for not having enough space. Bathrooms will be cleaner. Clutter will decrease. And we’ll build something as green as we can make it.
Financially, you’ll want to know that YBR intends to pay for the expansion, if we take out the loan. This is risky for both sides, so will include a 15+ year agreement to be good partners together. And that’s a positive thing! When good ministry is happening, we should sustain and grow it, be that quality early learning for kids in need, or loving, free-thinking, open-tabled church. Indeed, that’s the main thing I learn as I ponder the earth- When we have a chance to enhance its long-term good, we take it. That betters the world. It’s responsible. It serves God!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
P.S. - And, of course, I want to hear your thoughts as we go about this process. It’s still very early on, which is why I’m bringing it up now, so our collective wisdom can make it the best it can be!
Read more!
Friday, May 16, 2014
Friday, May 9, 2014
Intern-al Communications
I have some reflections as your intern
“They sing of a life free and simple, with time for one another, and for people’s needs, based on the dignity of the human person, at one with nature’s beauty, crowned by poetry. If that dream dies, all our struggles die with it.”
In the early church community, where diversity of religions and peoples were common, all within the confines of the Roman culture of assimilation, the followers of Jesus responded to the invitation to be different. Different than those being forced to live under the Roman way of culture, philosophy and way of being.
These followers of Jesus were free to be people, loved by a God who came down, died, resurrected, and had invited them to a new way of life. This life was free from the confines of Greek or Jew, free or slave, male or female. All were to be welcomed into the Kingdom of God, through Jesus the Christ. In this freeing experience, the followers of Jesus were invited to see this truth within each person they encountered. All are invited into this relationship with God and community.
“They sing of a life free and simple, with time for one another, and for people’s needs, based on the dignity of the human person, at one with nature’s beauty, crowned by poetry. If that dream dies, all our struggles die with it.”
In the early church community, where diversity of religions and peoples were common, all within the confines of the Roman culture of assimilation, the followers of Jesus responded to the invitation to be different. Different than those being forced to live under the Roman way of culture, philosophy and way of being.
These followers of Jesus were free to be people, loved by a God who came down, died, resurrected, and had invited them to a new way of life. This life was free from the confines of Greek or Jew, free or slave, male or female. All were to be welcomed into the Kingdom of God, through Jesus the Christ. In this freeing experience, the followers of Jesus were invited to see this truth within each person they encountered. All are invited into this relationship with God and community.
We express this same truth every Sunday, when we as Disciples invite people in to share our lives with each other in this Great news! To be known and loved because God has first loved us. Our faith journey requires us to resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant with the weak and lost…because we know that we ourselves have been all of these within our own lives.
I have some reflections as your intern, which you have privileged me to be over this last year, realizing that and being grateful for that. Only because you showed up and I was here could we have spent this year the way we did. You all have offered many hours of your life in my presence as your intern. I respect, admire, and love you for that. To be in your company and learn from you has been phenomenal as well as a privilege.
I wish to quote from Medard Laz from his book Love Adds a Little Chocolate.
I gave you life, but I cannot live it for you.
I can teach you things, but I cannot make you learn.
I can give you directions, but I cannot be there to lead you.
I can allow you freedom, but I cannot account for it.
I can take you to church, but I cannot make you believe.
I can teach you right from wrong, but I cannot always decide for you.
I can buy you beautiful things, but I cannot make you beautiful inside.
I can offer you advice, but I cannot accept it for you.
I can give you my love, but I cannot force it upon you
I can teach you to be a friend, but I cannot make one for you.
I can teach you to share, but I cannot make you unselfish.
I can teach you respect, but I cannot make you show honor.
I can advise you about friends, but I cannot choose them for you.
I can tell you lofty ideas, but I cannot achieve them for you.
I can teach you about kindness, but I cannot force you to be gracious.
I can warn you about sin, but I cannot make you moral.
I can pray for you, but I cannot make you walk with God.
I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life.
I can love you with unconditional love all of my life, and I will!
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart, for your inviting me into your community, to share what I know and who I am, and to learn from you all that you know and who you are as well. I have been very blessed by your life stories, witnessing God’s love manifested in all of you.
Because of your invitation and blessing me so much, I leave here secure and confident to go into my ministry, working with those transitioning from this life to the next.
Humbly, your servant in Christ Jesus,
Lyle
Read more!
“They sing of a life free and simple, with time for one another, and for people’s needs, based on the dignity of the human person, at one with nature’s beauty, crowned by poetry. If that dream dies, all our struggles die with it.”
In the early church community, where diversity of religions and peoples were common, all within the confines of the Roman culture of assimilation, the followers of Jesus responded to the invitation to be different. Different than those being forced to live under the Roman way of culture, philosophy and way of being.
These followers of Jesus were free to be people, loved by a God who came down, died, resurrected, and had invited them to a new way of life. This life was free from the confines of Greek or Jew, free or slave, male or female. All were to be welcomed into the Kingdom of God, through Jesus the Christ. In this freeing experience, the followers of Jesus were invited to see this truth within each person they encountered. All are invited into this relationship with God and community.
“They sing of a life free and simple, with time for one another, and for people’s needs, based on the dignity of the human person, at one with nature’s beauty, crowned by poetry. If that dream dies, all our struggles die with it.”
In the early church community, where diversity of religions and peoples were common, all within the confines of the Roman culture of assimilation, the followers of Jesus responded to the invitation to be different. Different than those being forced to live under the Roman way of culture, philosophy and way of being.
These followers of Jesus were free to be people, loved by a God who came down, died, resurrected, and had invited them to a new way of life. This life was free from the confines of Greek or Jew, free or slave, male or female. All were to be welcomed into the Kingdom of God, through Jesus the Christ. In this freeing experience, the followers of Jesus were invited to see this truth within each person they encountered. All are invited into this relationship with God and community.
We express this same truth every Sunday, when we as Disciples invite people in to share our lives with each other in this Great news! To be known and loved because God has first loved us. Our faith journey requires us to resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant with the weak and lost…because we know that we ourselves have been all of these within our own lives.
I have some reflections as your intern, which you have privileged me to be over this last year, realizing that and being grateful for that. Only because you showed up and I was here could we have spent this year the way we did. You all have offered many hours of your life in my presence as your intern. I respect, admire, and love you for that. To be in your company and learn from you has been phenomenal as well as a privilege.
I wish to quote from Medard Laz from his book Love Adds a Little Chocolate.
I gave you life, but I cannot live it for you.
I can teach you things, but I cannot make you learn.
I can give you directions, but I cannot be there to lead you.
I can allow you freedom, but I cannot account for it.
I can take you to church, but I cannot make you believe.
I can teach you right from wrong, but I cannot always decide for you.
I can buy you beautiful things, but I cannot make you beautiful inside.
I can offer you advice, but I cannot accept it for you.
I can give you my love, but I cannot force it upon you
I can teach you to be a friend, but I cannot make one for you.
I can teach you to share, but I cannot make you unselfish.
I can teach you respect, but I cannot make you show honor.
I can advise you about friends, but I cannot choose them for you.
I can tell you lofty ideas, but I cannot achieve them for you.
I can teach you about kindness, but I cannot force you to be gracious.
I can warn you about sin, but I cannot make you moral.
I can pray for you, but I cannot make you walk with God.
I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life.
I can love you with unconditional love all of my life, and I will!
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart, for your inviting me into your community, to share what I know and who I am, and to learn from you all that you know and who you are as well. I have been very blessed by your life stories, witnessing God’s love manifested in all of you.
Because of your invitation and blessing me so much, I leave here secure and confident to go into my ministry, working with those transitioning from this life to the next.
Humbly, your servant in Christ Jesus,
Lyle
Read more!
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Giving our values,
Mine was a church-going family growing up. To be specific, we attended the Episcopal Church. Or perhaps I should that we went to several Episcopal churches, as the family moved and life changed. You’d think I’d have been disoriented worshiping at that those different congregations, but that’s the thing about the Episcopal Church. The music and priest changes from congregation to congregation, but they all do much of the same things.
Specifically, they commonly use the Book of Common Prayer, which offers the same prayers, calls and responses, beautiful words repeated weekly at the Communion Table. Which meant that growing up, I had a lot of memorizing to do! Sure, we had the books in our pews to read from, but to participate fully it was best if you knew the expectations by heart. And by the time I was a youth, I had it down cold. I could walk into any old St. Timothy’s anywhere in America and know when to stand, when to kneel, when to cross myself, when to bow my head, when to say “And also with you” and “Thanks be to God!” Sometimes, it felt like we were just going through the motions, but that wasn’t usually the case. After all, the Book of Common Prayer is a deep well of spiritual well-being. Indeed, it fostered a sense of comfort, familiarity, even love to know I could show up in a new place and feel already part of the community, once I’d learned how to “do church”, Episcopal style.
I suspect all congregations are like that. We may have fewer dedicated prayers, more variety in our Communion. But we too have established traditions and, most importantly, specific values that guide our worship and work together. And one thing we share the Episcopal Church- perhaps with all Christian churches- is a moment during our service when we give money to support the ministry. I learned how to do that too growing up, and I’m glad my parents taught me. When the collection plate went by, Mom or Dad would often give me a dollar to drop in. It made me feel as adult and important as anything else we did, I’ll have you know. I’d throw that bill into the plate with gusto and a huge smile on my face! That it wasn’t my money probably helped that joy along, but the feeling has stuck with me. Anytime now I give my family’s check (Tabitha usually does it since I have other things on my mind most Sundays), I still feel that childlike exuberance bubble up, and it helps my give.
The thing that’s changed, however, is I’ve since learned more about why I give what I give. Faith formation doesn’t end once you’ve grown out of youth group and children sermons. Now I understand better that giving money isn’t just about making Mom or God happy. It’s a tangible expression of the values I hold, and an investment in the values our church stands for.
Every year, around this time, Plymouth Creek asks people to think about their giving. Our fiscal year ends on May 31, so we need to set a budget for the coming year. That happens best, of course, if we know what our people plan to give. So we ask that you consider your financial situation, what you’re able and willing to share. But more importantly, I hope you’ll take time to reconsider the values that inspire your church participation, those we hope to teach each other and use to serve our neighbors. After all, that’s the investment you’re making with your giving; not just into buildings and salaries, but to values and God’s mission. It takes resources for that good work to happen, and I’m grateful you share yours.
If you plan to make a pledge, please fill out a card and put it in the offering plate or send it to the church office by May 25th. And whatever you give, however you give, be grateful for the values you learn by learning church, and then put into practice not simply with money on Sundays, but every day by loving your neighbors.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Note: You may pick up a pledge card at church or contact the church office to have one sent to you.
Read more!
Specifically, they commonly use the Book of Common Prayer, which offers the same prayers, calls and responses, beautiful words repeated weekly at the Communion Table. Which meant that growing up, I had a lot of memorizing to do! Sure, we had the books in our pews to read from, but to participate fully it was best if you knew the expectations by heart. And by the time I was a youth, I had it down cold. I could walk into any old St. Timothy’s anywhere in America and know when to stand, when to kneel, when to cross myself, when to bow my head, when to say “And also with you” and “Thanks be to God!” Sometimes, it felt like we were just going through the motions, but that wasn’t usually the case. After all, the Book of Common Prayer is a deep well of spiritual well-being. Indeed, it fostered a sense of comfort, familiarity, even love to know I could show up in a new place and feel already part of the community, once I’d learned how to “do church”, Episcopal style.
I suspect all congregations are like that. We may have fewer dedicated prayers, more variety in our Communion. But we too have established traditions and, most importantly, specific values that guide our worship and work together. And one thing we share the Episcopal Church- perhaps with all Christian churches- is a moment during our service when we give money to support the ministry. I learned how to do that too growing up, and I’m glad my parents taught me. When the collection plate went by, Mom or Dad would often give me a dollar to drop in. It made me feel as adult and important as anything else we did, I’ll have you know. I’d throw that bill into the plate with gusto and a huge smile on my face! That it wasn’t my money probably helped that joy along, but the feeling has stuck with me. Anytime now I give my family’s check (Tabitha usually does it since I have other things on my mind most Sundays), I still feel that childlike exuberance bubble up, and it helps my give.
The thing that’s changed, however, is I’ve since learned more about why I give what I give. Faith formation doesn’t end once you’ve grown out of youth group and children sermons. Now I understand better that giving money isn’t just about making Mom or God happy. It’s a tangible expression of the values I hold, and an investment in the values our church stands for.
Every year, around this time, Plymouth Creek asks people to think about their giving. Our fiscal year ends on May 31, so we need to set a budget for the coming year. That happens best, of course, if we know what our people plan to give. So we ask that you consider your financial situation, what you’re able and willing to share. But more importantly, I hope you’ll take time to reconsider the values that inspire your church participation, those we hope to teach each other and use to serve our neighbors. After all, that’s the investment you’re making with your giving; not just into buildings and salaries, but to values and God’s mission. It takes resources for that good work to happen, and I’m grateful you share yours.
If you plan to make a pledge, please fill out a card and put it in the offering plate or send it to the church office by May 25th. And whatever you give, however you give, be grateful for the values you learn by learning church, and then put into practice not simply with money on Sundays, but every day by loving your neighbors.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Note: You may pick up a pledge card at church or contact the church office to have one sent to you.
Read more!
Friday, April 25, 2014
Joyful, Joyful…
I forget when I first heard it - and an internet search didn’t reveal further information, so it’s probably nonsense- but I still enjoy the following story that once got stuck in my brain-space about something called, “Holy Hilarity Sunday”:
Long ago, an Eastern Orthodox priest lamented his church’s steep drop in attendance the Sunday after Easter. Imaging creative ways to drum up interest, he realized something new- that he could tell the Easter story not simply as the triumph of Christ and life over sin and death, but also as a cosmically-planned and guffawed-over practical joke. Indeed, he thought it may be THE greatest practical joke played in the history of EVER, in that when Satan went to God’s Son’s tomb that first Easter morn, prepared to gloat that the dark side won, the tomb was…wait for it…empty! “Fooled you, bumbling Beelzebub!” the Mighty One might’ve chortled.
Thusly the priest re-told about Easter, promising his congregation that if they showed up the following week, the entire service would be humorous and joyful, and therefore not as, well, boring as many expected. “Holy Hilarity Sunday,” it was dubbed, which then entered the ever-dynamic tradition of Christian worship possibilities. As I said, I can’t find any source confirming this story, though I enjoy believing that priest packed the house as intended!
But whatever its origin, Holy Hilarity Sunday has recently become “a thing” among some American churches. It’s not so widely accepted that you see it on printed church calendars. Nevertheless, many pastors I know practice it in their congregations year after year after Easter. For some, it’s entirely lay-driven, offering “open mic” time during worship for anyone to share her/his favorite religious-themed (and clean) jokes. For others, it’s about pastors, who worked real hard during Lent, telling nothing but corny jokes during the sermon. When I first introduced it to Plymouth Creek, I think that second option was what some feared. I heard various kinds of the following feedback, “But Shane, you already tell enough groaners every Sunday; do we really need more?!” Fair point. So we’ve tried to make this admittedly arbitrary and made-up “holiday” slightly more profound. Every year post-Easter, we explore the unique value of joy in the spiritual life. And, yes, I tell variously corny jokes.
But here’s my reasoning behind that attempt at humorous profundity. In recent years, I’ve grown disillusioned with what currently passes as “wisdom.” Namely, I see on TV and read on the internet too many snide, self-satisfied information peddlers who only critique, criticize and condemn others, then call themselves smart. Newsworthy has become synonymous with gloomy. Intelligent commentary is oftentimes only deemed trustworthy when the commentator’s negative. Therefore, when a person is happy, upbeat, excited, the chattering class ironically rolls their eyes and mutters, “How quaint…” As if earnest joy is childish, useless.
I find this trend- wherein trustworthy sources of truth are solely those that have little nice to say- an incredibly worrying, to say nothing of fundamentally misleading, development in our culture. For starters, Christians claim that The most newsworthy event we know of is Good News- Christ is risen! Death, injustice, intolerance- however terrible and sinful- don’t win in the end. Love does. Besides, as I’ve written about before, some of the world’s latest, most interesting developments are hopeful trends in global health, violence reduction, etc.. Not that you’d know any of that by watching cable news.
In other words, positivity, hope and joy aren’t fake accessories we manufacture in order to feel better amidst an ever-crumbling world. Rather, they’re critical lenses through which we must look in order to understand this world better. After all, if we listen just to the gloom masquerading as wisdom these days, we may wake up thinking, “Is it worth it, trying to make a difference?” We won’t work to make better those things that haven’t yet gotten better fast enough for enough people. That’s why every year, Plymouth Creek reflects on the power of joy in our spirituality and daily lives. Because that’s both truest and the proper response to our favorite Good News: Christ’s resurrection! Sorry that it takes some groaning jokes to remember…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Long ago, an Eastern Orthodox priest lamented his church’s steep drop in attendance the Sunday after Easter. Imaging creative ways to drum up interest, he realized something new- that he could tell the Easter story not simply as the triumph of Christ and life over sin and death, but also as a cosmically-planned and guffawed-over practical joke. Indeed, he thought it may be THE greatest practical joke played in the history of EVER, in that when Satan went to God’s Son’s tomb that first Easter morn, prepared to gloat that the dark side won, the tomb was…wait for it…empty! “Fooled you, bumbling Beelzebub!” the Mighty One might’ve chortled.
Thusly the priest re-told about Easter, promising his congregation that if they showed up the following week, the entire service would be humorous and joyful, and therefore not as, well, boring as many expected. “Holy Hilarity Sunday,” it was dubbed, which then entered the ever-dynamic tradition of Christian worship possibilities. As I said, I can’t find any source confirming this story, though I enjoy believing that priest packed the house as intended!
But whatever its origin, Holy Hilarity Sunday has recently become “a thing” among some American churches. It’s not so widely accepted that you see it on printed church calendars. Nevertheless, many pastors I know practice it in their congregations year after year after Easter. For some, it’s entirely lay-driven, offering “open mic” time during worship for anyone to share her/his favorite religious-themed (and clean) jokes. For others, it’s about pastors, who worked real hard during Lent, telling nothing but corny jokes during the sermon. When I first introduced it to Plymouth Creek, I think that second option was what some feared. I heard various kinds of the following feedback, “But Shane, you already tell enough groaners every Sunday; do we really need more?!” Fair point. So we’ve tried to make this admittedly arbitrary and made-up “holiday” slightly more profound. Every year post-Easter, we explore the unique value of joy in the spiritual life. And, yes, I tell variously corny jokes.
But here’s my reasoning behind that attempt at humorous profundity. In recent years, I’ve grown disillusioned with what currently passes as “wisdom.” Namely, I see on TV and read on the internet too many snide, self-satisfied information peddlers who only critique, criticize and condemn others, then call themselves smart. Newsworthy has become synonymous with gloomy. Intelligent commentary is oftentimes only deemed trustworthy when the commentator’s negative. Therefore, when a person is happy, upbeat, excited, the chattering class ironically rolls their eyes and mutters, “How quaint…” As if earnest joy is childish, useless.
I find this trend- wherein trustworthy sources of truth are solely those that have little nice to say- an incredibly worrying, to say nothing of fundamentally misleading, development in our culture. For starters, Christians claim that The most newsworthy event we know of is Good News- Christ is risen! Death, injustice, intolerance- however terrible and sinful- don’t win in the end. Love does. Besides, as I’ve written about before, some of the world’s latest, most interesting developments are hopeful trends in global health, violence reduction, etc.. Not that you’d know any of that by watching cable news.
In other words, positivity, hope and joy aren’t fake accessories we manufacture in order to feel better amidst an ever-crumbling world. Rather, they’re critical lenses through which we must look in order to understand this world better. After all, if we listen just to the gloom masquerading as wisdom these days, we may wake up thinking, “Is it worth it, trying to make a difference?” We won’t work to make better those things that haven’t yet gotten better fast enough for enough people. That’s why every year, Plymouth Creek reflects on the power of joy in our spirituality and daily lives. Because that’s both truest and the proper response to our favorite Good News: Christ’s resurrection! Sorry that it takes some groaning jokes to remember…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Gain attraction…
I need to stop mentioning my sports rooting interests at church. It’s hurting my soul. Twice in the past two months, my favorite teams made it to their sports’ respective championship games. And twice, I made a mention of that at church. And twice, my teams lost.
To the casual (sane?) observer, these connections carry no deeper meaning. To the dedicated fan, however, we know- KNOW!- that our daily actions matter for our favorite teams’ performance. After all, I preached in a Broncos jersey before the Super Bowl, and Denver was embarrassed. Having learned my lesson, I left the UK basketball shirt at home before the NCAA championship, but couldn’t stop from making an unplanned reference to the game during my sermon. The following night, UK wasn’t blown out, but neither did they win. Had I simply kept my gloating mouth shut, they’d have gone on to victory, amen?!
Well, maybe not. But that won’t keep the sports fan inside me from wondering, “What might’ve been…” Indeed, I’ve mentioned that recently to several people who know my sports allegiances. And some of them were long-suffering Twins fans. They said, essentially, “Shut up Shane. At least, your teams played for a championship!” To which I had no morally acceptable answer other than, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Still, isn’t it strange that I’d focus on the downside- that my teams got so close but lost- rather than the upside- that they had a chance for ultimate glory at all? Apparently not. Have you ever heard of “loss aversion”? It’s a term psychologists and behavioral economists use, describing a near universal attitude among people, including yours truly, apparently. What it means is that people tend to value the possibility of losing something more than they value the possibility of gaining something. For instance, no one wants to lose $100, and everyone wants to receive $100. But when tested, people receive more satisfaction in not losing that money than in gaining it. In fact, we’re likely to choose to not lose $50 than risk winning $100, all odds being equal. In other words, we care more about avoiding loss than we do pursuing gain.
Is that because loss hurts more than victory thrills? It can feel that way in relationships. The idea of losing a friend strikes me as more painful than making a new one strikes me as exciting. Something similar happens to generals in war, or investors in stocks. One fights longer in a losing cause than is reasonable in order to “honor fallen comrades.” Another waits too long to sell a falling stock, hoping it will rebound, correcting already incurred losses (aka “sunk costs”). Maybe things turn around for these people. More often, they don’t. Indeed, researchers find that loss aversion causes folk to make more costly decisions, delay solving problems longer than is wise, and miss risk-taking opportunities that would benefit them because they’re too worried they’ll fail.
Or they might see negative outcomes in the past more clearly than positive ones. A person in my shoes- two near-championship teams in two months!- should be higher than a kite on a windy day. Yet when loss aversion kicks in I focus on “what we did wrong” or “what needs to change next year.”
That’s what I love about Easter. This day should remind Christians that our most fearful loss- life itself- has no power anymore. Christ is risen! New life is ours! Death lost its sting! So that tendency to fear failure too much, to avoid risk and pain more than seek opportunity, we needn’t nurture that. Our lives are held into eternity by Creation’s Creator who calls us, “Beloved child.”
So the next time you’re tempted to wallow in loss, define your past or future through negative happenings, not possible victories, ask, “Am I seeing things clearly, in light of Christ’s resurrection? Or am I overvaluing loss and pain?” If the latter, remember Christ is alive, walking beside you with grace at all times. So you can shoot for the stars! And if you land on the moon? Well, that’s something, isn’t it? Now, about next year’s Super Bowl and the Broncos…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
To the casual (sane?) observer, these connections carry no deeper meaning. To the dedicated fan, however, we know- KNOW!- that our daily actions matter for our favorite teams’ performance. After all, I preached in a Broncos jersey before the Super Bowl, and Denver was embarrassed. Having learned my lesson, I left the UK basketball shirt at home before the NCAA championship, but couldn’t stop from making an unplanned reference to the game during my sermon. The following night, UK wasn’t blown out, but neither did they win. Had I simply kept my gloating mouth shut, they’d have gone on to victory, amen?!
Well, maybe not. But that won’t keep the sports fan inside me from wondering, “What might’ve been…” Indeed, I’ve mentioned that recently to several people who know my sports allegiances. And some of them were long-suffering Twins fans. They said, essentially, “Shut up Shane. At least, your teams played for a championship!” To which I had no morally acceptable answer other than, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Still, isn’t it strange that I’d focus on the downside- that my teams got so close but lost- rather than the upside- that they had a chance for ultimate glory at all? Apparently not. Have you ever heard of “loss aversion”? It’s a term psychologists and behavioral economists use, describing a near universal attitude among people, including yours truly, apparently. What it means is that people tend to value the possibility of losing something more than they value the possibility of gaining something. For instance, no one wants to lose $100, and everyone wants to receive $100. But when tested, people receive more satisfaction in not losing that money than in gaining it. In fact, we’re likely to choose to not lose $50 than risk winning $100, all odds being equal. In other words, we care more about avoiding loss than we do pursuing gain.
Is that because loss hurts more than victory thrills? It can feel that way in relationships. The idea of losing a friend strikes me as more painful than making a new one strikes me as exciting. Something similar happens to generals in war, or investors in stocks. One fights longer in a losing cause than is reasonable in order to “honor fallen comrades.” Another waits too long to sell a falling stock, hoping it will rebound, correcting already incurred losses (aka “sunk costs”). Maybe things turn around for these people. More often, they don’t. Indeed, researchers find that loss aversion causes folk to make more costly decisions, delay solving problems longer than is wise, and miss risk-taking opportunities that would benefit them because they’re too worried they’ll fail.
Or they might see negative outcomes in the past more clearly than positive ones. A person in my shoes- two near-championship teams in two months!- should be higher than a kite on a windy day. Yet when loss aversion kicks in I focus on “what we did wrong” or “what needs to change next year.”
That’s what I love about Easter. This day should remind Christians that our most fearful loss- life itself- has no power anymore. Christ is risen! New life is ours! Death lost its sting! So that tendency to fear failure too much, to avoid risk and pain more than seek opportunity, we needn’t nurture that. Our lives are held into eternity by Creation’s Creator who calls us, “Beloved child.”
So the next time you’re tempted to wallow in loss, define your past or future through negative happenings, not possible victories, ask, “Am I seeing things clearly, in light of Christ’s resurrection? Or am I overvaluing loss and pain?” If the latter, remember Christ is alive, walking beside you with grace at all times. So you can shoot for the stars! And if you land on the moon? Well, that’s something, isn’t it? Now, about next year’s Super Bowl and the Broncos…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Iconoclastic optimism…
In the first millennium of Christianity, a debate raged over whether images were appropriate for churches. Supporters often used specially created pictures- icons- to direct their prayers to God. Critics countered that the second commandment expressly forbids graven (or painted?) images of God. Then, because this always happened, politics intervened, and those who mistrusted icons came to power with armies. They were called iconoclasts, i.e. enemies of icons, statues and whatever human creation might steal honor from the Lord. For centuries, the sides fought and hated each other, until it…stopped.
Nevertheless, the word endured, filtering into modern English, although divorced from Christian origins. Today, an iconoclast is anyone who disrupts accepted wisdom, cherished institutions or widely-held beliefs. Revolutionary War American iconoclasts toppled statues of King George III. Charles Darwin’s scientific iconoclasm is rather ironic, given the word’s beginnings. Jackie Robinson upended beliefs about sports stars. Pablo Picasso challenged perception. Think of those who stretch boundaries, push fields forward; they think different than others. Iconoclasts.
I bring this up because of certain writings I’ve come to enjoy in recent years: Books, articles, blog-posts, etc. celebrating how good things are today. One I just finished begins, “If asked to pick any time in history to be born as an average citizen, the second best choice would be- Today. The best choice- Tomorrow.” To make this point, the author cites facts like the reducing trends of violent crime worldwide, US teenage pregnancy rates falling in half over the past two decades, safer average childbirths, longer average lives, increased education access (especially for girls!) and historically unprecedented (Western) living standards. To which many outside the West are catching up quickly. In other words, these writers survey the world, and see hope. They’re optimists armed with loads of research, charts and data to make the case.
And yet, as I read newspapers, talk with neighbors, or turn on any cable news channel, I feel constantly bombarded by a message that “Things are bad and they’re getting worse!” A Pentagon official said last year that he thinks the world’s more dangerous now than ever before, despite the fact that global battlefield and terrorism-caused deaths are lower now than...ever before. Basically, outside the big, huge, we-should-not-ignore-this upward trend in global-warming-causing gas emissions, worldwide trajectories in things from wealth creation/poverty reduction to affordable vaccinations to democracy to renewable energy costs are heading in our collective favor. Count your blessings, people!
But we often don’t, right? Hope isn’t the dominant, accepted wisdom, as I hear it at least. Rather, today’s optimists are iconoclasts, rouges who challenge cherished, negative beliefs. And as rouges, outsiders, rebels, they’re easy to dismiss. After all, most of us form our opinions from news reports with splashy videos and hysterical graphics, dramatic sounding anchorpeople, whose companies have economic incentives to play up hype and stoke our fears. With that force so strong in our culture, how could we ever listen to other opinions, actually hear the iconoclastic optimists? Easy. Remember Sunday School? The answer’s always Jesus.
I mean, talk about your rebellious hope-monger, amen?! “The kingdom of God is here!” “Blessed are the poor!” “Today, you’ll be with me in Paradise!” In fact, maybe the most important thing Jesus should do for contemporary Christians is flood our spirits with hope and peace about our past, present and future. Because every moment, God is present, with love that conquered death already. Every day, we wake to the light of God’s sun, and God’s Son shining within us. God loved the world so much, God sacrificed everything to show us the way, betting we’d make good of it. Given what these iconoclastic optimists now report, that seems like a good bet God made.
So here’s a challenge for this week- Don’t trust the pessimists. Instead, wield hope like a hammer, one that swings in your heart to break apart whatever shortsighted negativity is trying to drag you down! Of course, neither be foolish; sin still exists, injustice needs defeating. But that battle won’t be won by those convinced we’re lost already. The victors are those who see hope as real as Jesus did. You know, that guy who resurrected?!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Nevertheless, the word endured, filtering into modern English, although divorced from Christian origins. Today, an iconoclast is anyone who disrupts accepted wisdom, cherished institutions or widely-held beliefs. Revolutionary War American iconoclasts toppled statues of King George III. Charles Darwin’s scientific iconoclasm is rather ironic, given the word’s beginnings. Jackie Robinson upended beliefs about sports stars. Pablo Picasso challenged perception. Think of those who stretch boundaries, push fields forward; they think different than others. Iconoclasts.
I bring this up because of certain writings I’ve come to enjoy in recent years: Books, articles, blog-posts, etc. celebrating how good things are today. One I just finished begins, “If asked to pick any time in history to be born as an average citizen, the second best choice would be- Today. The best choice- Tomorrow.” To make this point, the author cites facts like the reducing trends of violent crime worldwide, US teenage pregnancy rates falling in half over the past two decades, safer average childbirths, longer average lives, increased education access (especially for girls!) and historically unprecedented (Western) living standards. To which many outside the West are catching up quickly. In other words, these writers survey the world, and see hope. They’re optimists armed with loads of research, charts and data to make the case.
And yet, as I read newspapers, talk with neighbors, or turn on any cable news channel, I feel constantly bombarded by a message that “Things are bad and they’re getting worse!” A Pentagon official said last year that he thinks the world’s more dangerous now than ever before, despite the fact that global battlefield and terrorism-caused deaths are lower now than...ever before. Basically, outside the big, huge, we-should-not-ignore-this upward trend in global-warming-causing gas emissions, worldwide trajectories in things from wealth creation/poverty reduction to affordable vaccinations to democracy to renewable energy costs are heading in our collective favor. Count your blessings, people!
But we often don’t, right? Hope isn’t the dominant, accepted wisdom, as I hear it at least. Rather, today’s optimists are iconoclasts, rouges who challenge cherished, negative beliefs. And as rouges, outsiders, rebels, they’re easy to dismiss. After all, most of us form our opinions from news reports with splashy videos and hysterical graphics, dramatic sounding anchorpeople, whose companies have economic incentives to play up hype and stoke our fears. With that force so strong in our culture, how could we ever listen to other opinions, actually hear the iconoclastic optimists? Easy. Remember Sunday School? The answer’s always Jesus.
I mean, talk about your rebellious hope-monger, amen?! “The kingdom of God is here!” “Blessed are the poor!” “Today, you’ll be with me in Paradise!” In fact, maybe the most important thing Jesus should do for contemporary Christians is flood our spirits with hope and peace about our past, present and future. Because every moment, God is present, with love that conquered death already. Every day, we wake to the light of God’s sun, and God’s Son shining within us. God loved the world so much, God sacrificed everything to show us the way, betting we’d make good of it. Given what these iconoclastic optimists now report, that seems like a good bet God made.
So here’s a challenge for this week- Don’t trust the pessimists. Instead, wield hope like a hammer, one that swings in your heart to break apart whatever shortsighted negativity is trying to drag you down! Of course, neither be foolish; sin still exists, injustice needs defeating. But that battle won’t be won by those convinced we’re lost already. The victors are those who see hope as real as Jesus did. You know, that guy who resurrected?!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Freedom to move…
From 1915 to 1970 about six million black Americans migrated out of southern states to other states. Historians call it The Great Migration, and an awesome book I just finished- The Warmth of Other Suns- chronicles this vast, complex event. The book offers many statistics, but its author- Isabel Wilkerson- wanted to make the story personal (and not boring). So she focused mainly on three southern-born African-Americans who moved to different states in different decades.
We read of dreams hatched, sought, deferred, denied, lynched and sometimes reached. Involving so many over so long, of course, important nuances and broad trends emerged. Though her three characters’ stories are mostly typical, she claims, full of striving, heartache, change and incredible courage.
But I don’t have 660 pages, so here are some stats: Before 1915, 10% of black Americans lived outside the South; by 1970, that jumped to 48%. Chicago prior to The Great Migration was 3% African-American; mid 40s by 1970. Similar shifts transpired in Cleveland, Detroit, LA, Oakland, Philadelphia, New York. Yet a popular memory persists about migrants in early-mid 20th century America, that they were primarily Irish, Central Europeans or Latino. In fact, their numbers, however significant, pale in comparison to African-American migrants. Perhaps that perception lingers because folk distinguish between international and internal migration. But maybe it’s also because of many folks’ discomfort about The Great Migration’s main driver: Jim Crow laws and racism.
Some of you, I know, remember when black Americans were still legally segregated in the South. You maybe saw or were turned away by “Colored Only” signs I’ve cringed at in grainy pictures. Or perhaps you recall northern versions of Jim Crow; not a legal regime, but- say- whites abandoning neighborhoods as black Americans moved in (or shooting/bombing newly purchased homes, as happened to Billie Holiday or in Chicago’s Cicero neighborhood).
This book brought that history to life for me in profound, shocking ways. To think that’s but a few decades past…. To think it’s not simply history…
After all, I live in a neighborhood as ethnically diverse as any in Minneapolis- 45% black, 30% white, 11% Asian/Pacific Islander, 7% Latino/Hispanic. Not twenty years ago, Folwell was nearly monochromatic. Things changed rapidly in the mid-to-late nineties. And as its demographics became more colorful, longtime residents wondered and worried. I’ve heard neighbors complain recently, “What’s happened to this place? Why are these kids so (insert negative racial stereotype here)? What about my property value?!” To these neighbors, the issues feel new. But Wilkerson paints a portrait of similar conversations repeating across the country during The Great Migration’s several decades.
Which is to say that, for all our nation’s progress in overcoming its Original Sin (slavery), we’re not yet living in Paradise restored. It’s no coincidence that my diverse neighborhood is also among our city’s poorest. Further, Wilkerson argues persuasively that common explanations for why black communities are also often poor communities (that there are “special pathologies” in African-American culture, or rap music, or young, black men with hoodies) miss the point that our nation brutalized and failed centuries’ worth of its first non-native “colonists” and their ancestors. Within my grandparents’ lifetimes, millions were driven to new homes because they were terrorized on the streets, at their jobs, in their houses, had siblings hung as strange fruit from poplar trees.
Among our denomination’s four main priorities is becoming an “Anti-racist/Pro-reconciling Church”. Yet it’s common for white seminary students to ask, “Is that goal still necessary?” Absolutely. Particularly as churches remain more segregated than most neighborhoods, and misunderstandings occur frequently across color lines, with sometimes tragic results. But Galatians proclaims, “For freedom, Christ has set us free.” That must remain our greatest dream, claimed for all people, whomever their ancestors, wherever they moved from or why. Because God so loved the world, we can be freed from the sin of fearing the worst in people. Because Christ conquered death, we can be freed from suspicion in order to form more perfect unions. Jesus freed everyone to be as courageous as humanly possible, even if that means moving thousands of miles with no guarantees but a hope to struggle, survive and succeed.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
We read of dreams hatched, sought, deferred, denied, lynched and sometimes reached. Involving so many over so long, of course, important nuances and broad trends emerged. Though her three characters’ stories are mostly typical, she claims, full of striving, heartache, change and incredible courage.
But I don’t have 660 pages, so here are some stats: Before 1915, 10% of black Americans lived outside the South; by 1970, that jumped to 48%. Chicago prior to The Great Migration was 3% African-American; mid 40s by 1970. Similar shifts transpired in Cleveland, Detroit, LA, Oakland, Philadelphia, New York. Yet a popular memory persists about migrants in early-mid 20th century America, that they were primarily Irish, Central Europeans or Latino. In fact, their numbers, however significant, pale in comparison to African-American migrants. Perhaps that perception lingers because folk distinguish between international and internal migration. But maybe it’s also because of many folks’ discomfort about The Great Migration’s main driver: Jim Crow laws and racism.
Some of you, I know, remember when black Americans were still legally segregated in the South. You maybe saw or were turned away by “Colored Only” signs I’ve cringed at in grainy pictures. Or perhaps you recall northern versions of Jim Crow; not a legal regime, but- say- whites abandoning neighborhoods as black Americans moved in (or shooting/bombing newly purchased homes, as happened to Billie Holiday or in Chicago’s Cicero neighborhood).
This book brought that history to life for me in profound, shocking ways. To think that’s but a few decades past…. To think it’s not simply history…
After all, I live in a neighborhood as ethnically diverse as any in Minneapolis- 45% black, 30% white, 11% Asian/Pacific Islander, 7% Latino/Hispanic. Not twenty years ago, Folwell was nearly monochromatic. Things changed rapidly in the mid-to-late nineties. And as its demographics became more colorful, longtime residents wondered and worried. I’ve heard neighbors complain recently, “What’s happened to this place? Why are these kids so (insert negative racial stereotype here)? What about my property value?!” To these neighbors, the issues feel new. But Wilkerson paints a portrait of similar conversations repeating across the country during The Great Migration’s several decades.
Which is to say that, for all our nation’s progress in overcoming its Original Sin (slavery), we’re not yet living in Paradise restored. It’s no coincidence that my diverse neighborhood is also among our city’s poorest. Further, Wilkerson argues persuasively that common explanations for why black communities are also often poor communities (that there are “special pathologies” in African-American culture, or rap music, or young, black men with hoodies) miss the point that our nation brutalized and failed centuries’ worth of its first non-native “colonists” and their ancestors. Within my grandparents’ lifetimes, millions were driven to new homes because they were terrorized on the streets, at their jobs, in their houses, had siblings hung as strange fruit from poplar trees.
Among our denomination’s four main priorities is becoming an “Anti-racist/Pro-reconciling Church”. Yet it’s common for white seminary students to ask, “Is that goal still necessary?” Absolutely. Particularly as churches remain more segregated than most neighborhoods, and misunderstandings occur frequently across color lines, with sometimes tragic results. But Galatians proclaims, “For freedom, Christ has set us free.” That must remain our greatest dream, claimed for all people, whomever their ancestors, wherever they moved from or why. Because God so loved the world, we can be freed from the sin of fearing the worst in people. Because Christ conquered death, we can be freed from suspicion in order to form more perfect unions. Jesus freed everyone to be as courageous as humanly possible, even if that means moving thousands of miles with no guarantees but a hope to struggle, survive and succeed.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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