Gratitude…

My wife read an article over the weekend that sparked off a good conversation. From what she said, the author took to task an idea that seems, at face value, uncontroversial: The notion we should all actively cultivate an attitude of gratitude.

“Well, that’s just crazy,” I initially thought as Tabitha described the argument. After all, our church’s 2010 Thanksgiving focus was…Attitude of Gratitude. And I remember being quite proud of what we did in discussing said attitude for several weeks, praying for it, developing ideas for including more gratefulness into our routines. All that led to a successful collection of food and funds for people in need on Thanksgiving Sunday.

So what’s wrong with an attitude of gratitude?! “Honey,” I therefore considering saying, “You’re wrong!” Fortunately, I didn’t butt in immediately (this time) and let her finish. Turns out that the article didn’t critique thankfulness, per se. Rather, its target was a certain version of gratitude cultivation that’s become a bit too common in our culture.

And that is the use of gratitude to make us happy.

I’m sure you’ve heard a version of the following self-help advice: Instead of spending mental energy cataloging what you don’t have or why you’re upset, count your blessings and meditate on what you do have and why you’re grateful. That’s mostly good advice, I think. In fact, just last week I read another article that included gratitude in a list of health essentials. Alongside sleep, good eating and exercise, it counseled weekly time “contemplating what you’re thankful for.” That- it claimed- improves blood flow, energy and positive self-regard, all of which is apparently what we need to be happy over the long-term. And that’s our ultimate goal, isn’t it? Happiness…?

Well, sure. But not really. At least not exclusively, right? As Christians, Christ said to pray for “God’s Kingdom come on earth” (i.e. God’s reign of love and justice to rule in our lives and societies). Notably, that’s a prayer for not individual, but collective salvation.

In other words, focusing on our own happiness isn’t a bad thing; it’s just not the only thing. Indeed, the main thing for Jesus was that all life- including you!- have enough to live abundantly (John 10:10). Which isn’t the same as living luxuriously. But rather, that we a) yes, focus on blessings we have without obsessing over what we lack, yet also b) ensure that those who aren’t sharing in the world’s abundance get what they deserve as God’s beloved children.

Put plainly, an attitude of gratitude that’s solely concerned with what you have verges on selfishness. Which is ironic, since thankfulness done right should increase a person’s humility, amen?! It ought remind us of all the ways we’re dependent on others, on God, on luck for what gives us sustenance, what provides us joy. In turn, we should be more willing to share what we have since it isn’t all ours anyway. Our lives, rather, are gifts; from our ancestors, our neighbors, our Creator. As such, God calls us to be gifts to others, to be Jesus’ hands and feet.

So here’s my suggestion for cultivating a proper attitude of gratitude: Count your blessings while also thinking of others who could really use your time, your influence, your commitment so they don’t starve, so they’re less oppressed, so they’re not kept from their divine birthright of abundance.

Gratitude without compassion is vanity. But gratitude-inspired action has a staying power that just feeling bad for another’s plight can’t match. After all, if you’re regularly reminding yourself that- thankfully, by God’s grace- you have enough, you’re less likely to hoard your stuff or spend all your time keeping others away. Instead, you’ll stick beside a friend, say, as she slogs through another chemo treatment, or help a neighbor for the seventh time get back on his feet. Because that’s what grateful Christians do. We find happiness in helping others, in building the Kingdom of God.

How we each make that work, of course, depends on our unique situations. But I hope you’ll pray about, this week, using what you’re grateful for to make more a difference others.

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

Renewal…

I’m writing this after Christmas, at my in-law’s farm in Mississippi. And I just learned that they recently invited bees onto their farm. A neighbor who’s getting into that industry asked to use their land. They said fine. And their explanation of the bees’ impact reminded me of Jesus.

Here’s what I mean. Initially, the farm’s focus was beef. More specifically, they raise grass-fed cows who aren’t pumped full of antibiotics and unnatural chemicals. Plus, they allow their cattle to roam freely across their ample pasture land. In other words, it’s an operation that shames most grocery store beef, whose cows may start on farms like these, but eventually are packed into overstuffed feed lots and industrial slaughter machines.

Not an ideal cow life, to say the (very, very) least. It’s also terrible for soil. When cow farmers pump pastures with extra fertilizers and herbicides, they boost production over the short term. It also kills the soil’s long-term viability; by encouraging shallower grass roots, destroying diversity of bugs and microbes, stripping away beautiful black topsoil. Plus, when rain washes those ugly, artificial inputs into our groundwater, it poisons ecosystems down river. Anyone hear about how diminished ocean life has become in vast swaths around where the Mississippi drains into the Gulf? Ugh.

So my in-laws’ farm is intentionally planned to behave differently- more local, more attuned to older/wiser/pre-industrial farming practices, more respectful of the health of both nature and beef customers. Besides, their meat tastes waaaay better! I’ve looked forward for years to packing a cooler full of their steaks and burger meat right before we return home after Christmas.

But cows aren’t the only commercially useful farm animals, of course. So a few years back, they lent some unused land to an organic hog and chicken farmer. Then, they integrated both operations into each other. The chickens run around on the cattle pasture, movable fences keeping them away from steers. Every few days, that set-up shifts a bit north or east, and the chickens peck at and poop on new parts of the pasture. That natural fertilizer beats any petroleum-based product eight days a week. It just takes patience and time, and respect for the earth. The result has been healthier creatures and farmland.

Hence, when another neighbor brought up bringing bees to the farm- for honey production- the in-laws said, “Alright.” And apparently, those bees then spent all last summer pollinating garden flowers and pasture grass. They flew all over where cows and chickens went already, or were going next. The results were even deeper roots, increased biodiversity, and much healthier soil. In fact, a Mississippi State University researcher has been studying their farm. He claims that within two years, it’ll be a carbon neutral, profitable operation. Awesome!

All that reminds me of Jesus because, as a Disciple of Christ, I believe the church’s essential function is inviting as many as possible to the Lord’s Table. That table’ open, after all, to all. God so loved the (whole!) world…etc. Thus, we’re called to make that blessed mission a reality at our communion table.

But here’s the thing; God didn’t give us that calling as a burden. Instead, God knew that the more people we welcomed and kept at our tables, the better our communities would be. Like the soil on a farm, diversity is the source of health, of blessing, not a distraction or an optional aspiration.

Would only that all churches believed the same, amen? Or acted like it… Would that we didn’t spend all our time reaching out to only those who think or look like us, who make the same amount of money or share the same political opinion as us? Have you considered recently that if you found ways to bring folk to church who other churches aren’t working to include, the result won’t be embarrassing? It’ll be unexpected blessing, more healthful community, more diverse and- therefore- exciting church!

That’s what those bees did on my in-laws farm, at least. It’s a brighter, better, more beautiful place now than before. And it’ll share those blessings for generations to come. Jesus, I bet, approves.

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

Neighbors…

Another crazy thing happened on my block recently. I was in my home office working on worship when my dog started barking like she does when people approach my gate. Being the holiday season, I guessed it might be a package delivery. So I put on slippers in case someone came to my door. Sure enough, a UPS van was parked across the street.

The worker, however, wasn’t moving my way, even though it was sleeting. Instead, a white car had parked in front of the van. Its driver had exited and was talking with said UPS guy. I stood in the doorway waiting. But rather than cross the street, he handed the car’s driver two packages and said my next-door neighbor’s name.

Suspicion bells rang loud in my head. So I got the man’s attention. “Excuse me,” I said. “Are those for Jeanne?” He said, “Yes,” as he watched the car’s driver sign his gizmo and walk toward her car. “Then who’s this?” I asked. “I’m Jeanne’s roommate,” she said. “I’m holding these for her.”

The suspicion bells ramped up their volume to deafening! After all, Jeanne’s husband of 40+ years had died not long ago. She’s lived alone ever since in a house she owns outright. Why would she suddenly get a roommate?! I said as much to the lady and the UPS guy. Committed thief that she was, she said, “I’m new. How else would I know her name?” Never give up, apparently.

I told them that, if she wasn’t lying, she’d be glad for me to hold the packages and to know she had a good neighbor. The UPS driver decided in my favor. She gave up the packages and quickly drove away. When Jeanne got home, I took them over, and she and I laughed nervously about this audacious robbery attempt.

This past Monday, the same UPS driver delivered a package to my house, and thanked me for helping out. I took a moment to bask in the glow of being Shane the Good Neighbor, Crime Stopper Extraordinaire! Or whatever. Mostly, I’m glad Jeanne’s grandkids will get their presents.

But it’s not lost on me that, had it been earlier in my life, I wouldn’t have been so helpful. In other places I’ve lived, I didn’t meet my neighbors. I wouldn’t have known about their losses, their goings-on, their families. That thief would’ve gotten away.

I remember talking with a local Muslim friend years back. He married a woman from abroad, he told me, who’d moved to Plymouth, where he grew up. He’d lived in the same house for years, so she was horrified to learn, upon arrival, that he didn’t know his neighbors. She decided a block party was needed. He got nervous, “What if they don’t like me? Reject us for being Muslim, or whatever?” She said, “Don’t care. I intend to be a good neighbor,” and sent out invitations. Nearly everyone came and said the same thing: “I’ve been waiting for someone to do this!”

They didn’t want to live isolated, apparently. But they lived busy lives, their homes were spread out, they worried about being rejected, like my friend. So no one made the first step to create community. I’ve wrestled with that attitude, personally, for years.

Which teaches me a) The next time you hear nonsense about American Muslims being “too foreign,” ignore the speaker’s ignorance or enlighten them graciously. We’re all human, all children of God. More importantly, b) Jesus was onto something by focusing on living neighborly. I read recently of studies that measured the impact of community on happiness. Unsurprisingly, people who act like good neighbors (and who accept help from neighbors) are much happier throughout life than those who value independence more, who doggedly cultivate self-reliance. I’ve seen that work in my life, certainly, and pray it continues as I keep growing.

So maybe, as the year ends and you make “to-do” lists for 2016, you’ll include the goal of being an even better neighbor. Not only has social science shown it adds happiness, Jesus himself called it a top priority. Besides, you may get more packages!

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

How we love…

Last month, the city of Minneapolis designated our dog Fawkes a “Potentially Dangerous Animal.” Ugh. For those not in-the-know (like me until recently), this designation is level one in Animal Control’s disciplinary scheme. Level two is “Dangerous Animal.” Level three is “Destruction Oder.” All in all, then, Fawkes got the lightest treatment. Phew.

It came about because Fawkes “nipped” (i.e. slightly bit) our foster boy in early November, while the two were sitting together on a chair. T might’ve squeezed the dog around her tail, or hugged hard. We’re not clear. We were in the room with heads turned. There was no growl. Fawkes simply reacted, and her single chomp caused a small puncture that’s since healed. He’s fine, thank God.

But that little wound was enough to concern Animal Control, since dogs really shouldn’t use teeth to express displeasure. Had T been physically attacking her, that would’ve been a different story. Her behavior here, though, was unprovoked. At least, not in response to a physical threat. Rather, she reacted from some mix of his size v. hers, stress and anxiety. Such is what the trainer we subsequently brought in hypothesized.

Needless to say, we’ve been on egg shells since the designation. The county’s foster care licensers require that we separate T from Fawkes unless we’re training or walking. Animal Control is making her always wear a muzzle when outside and be on a three foot leash. They may let her run in the back-yard, once they inspect whether our fence is adequate. Until then, she’s an inside-dog. So life has changed for the Isners.

Plus, I’ve also been constantly scouring my memory of the past five years, wondering what I did wrong with Fawkes, how I failed her, why I’m not a good puppy daddy. To which the trainer said something that made me feel better. Sure, she admitted, we could’ve been better about training. Most dog owners can. But Fawkes reacted/snipped at other dogs in puppy class, meaning there’s a history. Hence, the trainer’s comment, “Compare Fawkes to an alcoholic. She just has an aggressive tendency. It’s not terrible, but it’s there. There’s no cure. We can modify her behavior a bunch to make everyone safer. But it’ll be lifelong. You simply have to accept her for the dog she is.”

Ever notice how- for almost every significant relationship- you don’t really choose who you love? Your parents, children, broader family, even many friends. You love them because that’s who was there, who was ‘assigned’ to you by The Universe. And even people to whom you say, “You. I chose to love you,” reveal new things over time or change. I didn’t see this about Fawkes when she was young, not entirely. I’ve changed, she’s changed, our family circumstances changed. One of my wedding vows was “To love what I already know of you, and trust what I know not yet.” I still consider that profoundly right.

Fellow church folk are like that too; by and large, unchosen. They’re still family. But once you officially “join,” you’ve given up veto over who else gets in. The next new members won’t ask your permission to join. They’ll simply step forward when invited during worship. And we can have several responses. 1) Shrug our shoulders, avoid connecting with them, maintain “control” over whom we love. Or 2) Joyfully accept the cards God’s universe deals, finding ways to make them a winning hand.

When it comes to new Plymouth Creekers joining, that’s rarely a serious difficulty. You’re all lovely! But even in my dog’s case, with her real challenges, life won’t be miserable unless we chose to stop loving her. Maybe that will have to, one day, and put her down for safety reasons. I hope not. We planning to adjust our routines, our expectations, our training schedules to accommodate and shape this unfortunate character trait of our otherwise beloved Fawkes. Indeed, I pray that now that we know her better, we’re better able to provide her more of what she really needs, not just what we hoped she needed. That’s how to truly love, after all. May we all be so worthy. 

Grace and Peace, 
Shane Read more!

Full service…

Here’s a conversation I unexpectedly endured at the drycleaners last week. It was the day after the shootings in San Bernardino, but before any information about the attackers had been released save for their names and his place of birth:

Drycleaner employee, “Shame what happened in California.”
Me, “Absolutely!”
Employee, “I think they’ll find it was terrorism.”
Me, “Oh? Uh, All mass shootings are terrorism.”
Employee, “Sure. But his name. It’s so foreign…”
Me, “Umm...he was an American, born and raised, right?”
Employee, “But the Muslim name; it’s gotta be like Paris.”
Me, “There are Muslim Americans.”
Employee, “I’m just saying. His name’s suspicious.”
Me, “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
Employee, “Listen, the name…”
Me, “I said I don’t want to talk about this.”

The employee awkwardly- and loudly- said thank you as I quickly left, growling. The word “bigoted” escaped my mouth, louder than I anticipated.

Of course, the employee happens to have guessed right, in part. We now know that the attacks were carried out by people with affinities toward radical, violent Islamic ideology. I further read that they were planning other violence, but got sidetracked by this workplace dispute. Not, shall we say, a stereotypical terrorist event. Tragic nonetheless.

That said, I remain angry about the employee’s behavior. The reason, I think, is obvious: Calling an Arabic-sounding name “foreign” is bigotry. And especially when the tone of one’s voice treats “foreign” as akin to “malevolent” or “untrustworthy,” which this person made clear was the intent. I don’t care if the killers did, in fact, intend to commit terrorism. The employee had no grounds for making that huge leap, and severe moral condemnation, other than these folks’ names.

I mean, consider the consequences if we accepted that reasoning. Then, any neighbor named Mateen or Sadia, Abdeel or Yasir (i.e. Board members for our local, friendly Mosque) would be legitimate objects of suspicion, worth keeping at arm’s length, needing a close watch. After all, it would be argued, some radical Islamic terrorists had similar-ish names. They aren’t included in what we call “normal.” Who cares if their grandparents were born in St. Cloud?!

Well, I certainly care. My sister lived in San Bernardino for years; her father still does. That doesn’t make me any more interested now in painting all Muslims with the broad brush of “terrorist.” I mean, I didn’t feel that way about “Roberts” or Christians in the aftermath of the Colorado Springs (where I went to college) Planned Parenthood shooting either. Thus, I won’t start acting more apprehensive about Muslim neighbors- citizens or immigrants- because a misguided couple perpetrated evil.

Yet I’ve heard anti-Muslim rhetoric escalating. My encounter at the drycleaner. From politicians and pundits. Liberty University’s President, Jerry Falwell the Younger, encouraged students to carry concealed weapons so they can, “End those Muslims before they can come in and kill.” I read that he misspoke, meant to say ‘terrorist.’ The slip-up is telling. This is, alas, normal human behavior. When we get afraid, we look for someone to blame, to demonize. Normal human behavior and Godly human behavior are NOT, however, always the same.

Indeed, consider this. One of the worst things ISIS does is see the world in black-and-white terms: “We are Good. Everyone else is Bad.” Hence, they can kill whomever is not “Us,” whomever doesn’t share their beliefs and values. We should never do that, never see the world so simply, treat God’s children so cavalierly, regard unknown neighbors so judgmentally. Jesus said to “pray for our enemies,” i.e. recognize their humanity, see God’s image in them too. I’m convinced we can do that even while we oppose their violence with force. The point it is, when we follow the lead of ISIS-type terrorists and pretend we’re in a clash of civilizations, good guys v. Muslim evil guys, we feed their propaganda. What’s worse, we alienate decent neighbors in the process, and so act like bad Christians.

Soon, I’ll go get my laundry. I hope that employee isn’t working. But suppose so…What do you think I should say? Anything? In the meantime, may we all pray for peace.

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

New chapters,

Many of you have heard that on November 29, I informed the congregation that I’d accepted a new call. Sometime around March next year, I’ll become the Senior Minister of First Christian Church in Montgomery, Alabama.

Therefore, January 31st will be my final Sunday at Plymouth Creek. Praise God that means we’ll have another Advent together! Another Christmas Eve candle service that will end with lights off, Silent Night lifting into a darkening evening. Maybe we’ll even do a truncated Cinema Sermon Series after the New Year, if you’re up for it. Let me know!

By then, it will have been seven and one-half years since I was welcomed into this community. And what a welcome it’s been! It started with dear Pat Farr telling me- my first Sunday- that I couldn’t be the new minister because I looked like I was still in high school! She was right. So I’ve grown a beard. I recall how the chairs were lined up straight back then, and our musicians were in a corner, hidden from view. They nevertheless directed the choir to sing more richly than I expected from such few voices. Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, indeed!

Thy Word Worship Center worshipped in our space still, and for the next few years. I regret that we weren’t able to build longer-lasting, mutually respectful relationships with that lovely church. That said, I’m proud they remain “in business.” Though we had to say goodbye, we shouldn’t let that color over the fact we were good for each other, for a time.

Same goes for Yellow Brick Road Child Care. It’s likely they’ll move to a new building in the coming year. They’ve grown too large for our current space, and the building expansion just didn’t work out. I was looking through notes from our first architect interviews, well over a year ago. Everyone anticipated that our project would be in the $80-$120 per square foot range, max. The best bid we actually got this summer, after scouring the market multiple times, was over $200/square foot! Needless to say, that blew past the outer reaches of our plan, despite the best guidance we could find and the due diligence our leadership did.

I’m hoping we’ll settle on a clear plan for that arena before I leave, and will work hard to help create it. Regardless, please always remember that the 100s of kids YBR has served (very well, I might add!) over the past decade will grow up knowing that a church welcomed them during their earliest years, supported their development and future success. Thus, when they’re lonely, afraid or- God forbid- abused as, say, young adults, they’ll be more likely to turn to a local church for support, to God for guidance. In other words, this was never just about money. It was ministry. And good ministry too!

I could go on about other good stuff we’ve accomplished together- the garden, the bus, baptisms and weddings, funerals and new members- but there’s only so much space. Besides, our agenda now isn’t simply to remember what has been, but also to plan for, pray for, be excited for what will be. God, after all, is never done “doing a new thing”.

For the past several years, we’ve named as our vision “to become a beacon of Christian openness and service in the NW suburbs.” I think we made demonstrable, wonderful steps in that direction. Thus, to my mind at least, that chapter’s been written and written well. Meaning that a new vision is called for! And it’s one, I’m convinced, that springs from the deep wells of God’s grace and the magnificent dreams God’s still crafting for this church.

I won’t lead you to name and claim that vision, obviously. But I can say that I’m proud of what we’ve done together. I’ll spend the next two months supporting your efforts to turn the page, and will follow along gladly for years as you continue this glorious journey with Jesus toward the full coming of God’s Kingdom on earth. What a privilege to be included in that mission, amen?!


Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!

Eyes opening…

I’ll admit. I’ve often been smug around the holidays, even judgmental. At issue, was the hype and hysteria surrounding Black Friday, all it symbolized, all it idolized. To think we’ve grown so accustomed to constant consumption that people forgo Thanksgiving meal time simply to get better deals at Walmart. To imagine we’re so comfortable with coveting that shoppers have fights over who gets the fashionable new toy first. Oh, the shame! I’ve said such stuff regularly before.

Then, over the past year, whenever I’ve taken the foster boy to Toys R Us, he’s begged for this particular red Ferrari remote control car. He’s right. It’s awesome. Large, fast, stylish. I understand the kid’s drooling. Unfortunately, it’s not inexpensive. He keeps saying anyway, “Can I get it?” I’m like, “Just save your money kid, for the next five years.” Nevertheless, I’ve filed it in my memory for just this moment to arrive: Christmas Season.

In other words, we’re about to buy presents. Plus, his birthday is a week before Christmas. And while I know that he’ll still be quite excited if we get him cheaper toys then that RC Ferrari…well, I still know how much he’s dreamed about that RC Ferrari. Should we give in and pay up, or hold out and stay solvent? That’s become the debate. I know the choice isn’t that dramatic (it’s not a real Ferrari, after all!). But I’ve gone back and forth a lot. An unexpected turn about a week ago, however. It dawned on me that maybe…maybe…MAYBE the Ferrari will be on Black Friday sale! If so, best of both worlds, right? We don’t pay full price for this toy we know that he passionately desires. The only sacrifice will be sleep after Thanksgiving. Whatever.

At least, that’s the idea I’ve been wrestling with recently. So to all those who’ve been the unknowing object of my judgmental/anti-Black Friday attitude before, I’m very sorry. I was being haughty. However, I’m befuddled now, because I still don’t like that naked consumerism is held up as an unalloyed good around this time, every year. It’s not! Given the environmental impact of all the waste we generate to keep buying more disposable stuff, given the pressure it puts on families who can’t afford a lavish Christmas to go into deeper credit card debt, given that Jesus said, “Love God with all your everything,” and not, “Love presents.” Just because a special sale makes buying more a bit more affordable doesn’t mean we should buy more. Obviously. Yet, we do.

Solutions? I’m still searching! I think for this year, though, now that I’m less resistant to viewing Black Friday shopping as a good idea, I’m giving myself the following rule of thumb. If I go, all purchases must be something I know I’d otherwise make. I.e. I may go get that Ferrari. But if I see something I didn’t actually plan on grabbing, I will (hopefully) not allow myself to talk myself into believing I need it.

Presumably, other folk have already figured this out, or something better. The experience is new for me, though. Tabitha and I aren’t big gift givers, or receivers. We’ve never felt much Black Friday pressure for one another. Then, we became foster parents, and learned over the past year that our foster son feels extra loved when he gets a gift. Especially if the gift is one he’s been wanting. So I’ve had fun thinking about what he wants, how we can get it for him, what’s too much, what’s just right, etc. Because that’s not a conversation about consumption. It’s about relationship building, fostering deeper attachments, joyful connections for a boy who deserves them.

Makes me wonder if all this time, our Heavenly Parent has been scheming ways to help us receive those gifts that make us feel specially known, particularly cared for? I hope so. I’d like to think God cares that much for us. In fact, I do think that! And maybe best of all- I now realize- is that God’s not holding out for Black Friday sales. Good Friday showed that God will pay any price to shower us with love.

Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!