My wife’s been reading a book called First Things First. It sounds interesting. As she describes the premise, the author encourages people who want to work and live more efficiently or effectively, to reflect on what’s most important to their goals and souls. After all, many issues, ideas, opportunities, burdens waft across our plates every day and offer to stay. We could volunteer. Remodel the kitchen. Go back to school. Write more letters to friends. We could read the Lenten devotional book that Pastor Shane helped write (copies still available!). But we can’t do everything. We don’t have time or energy. We make choices.
The thing is, the author observes, many choices we make don’t align with what we most want in life, what’s most important. Rather, we pick what seems most urgent, go with the apparently immediate needs. Even if those tasks are less critical to our success or long-term well-being, the plate gets full before we tackle the first things. How long has that project remained on the to-do list? How long has that idea floated around, you saying, “Maybe I’ll make it happen when I finally have the time”? Truthfully, we often have the time. We just don’t use it thoughtfully enough. But if we pause, reevaluate what our most important things are versus the simply ‘urgent’ things (like spending time with God, deepening relationships, building skills that bring us joy), going forward we might be better at keeping first things first.
I like that notion. I’m thinking about it this month in honor of Lent. Our theme, you’ll recall, is “Letting Go,” which reflects a frequent Lenten dynamic. People often choose things to “give up” or “let go” so they’ll interact more with the really First Thing- God! You maybe noticed that I’m asking the church, as a worshipping community, to experience that together. Every Sunday, rather than pray the Lord’s Prayer as per usual, we’re praying a communal prayer of confession found in our Chalice Hymnal, borrowed from our Anglican partners. For many Disciples of Christ, of course, weekly Lord’s Prayers don’t occur. After all, traditional Disciples thought recognizes only baptism and communion as irreplaceable institutions. But for many DoC churches, ours included, that’s been a long-standing element. Indeed, since Jesus himself encouraged us to pray it, it might feel like a divine requirement! Ironically, in Matthew 6, where the most familiar version appears, it comes just after Jesus tells his disciples, “Don’t pray in public, grandly, like hypocrites. Instead, pray in private.” That being said, I doubt Jesus would grudge us our weekly public recitation. As long as the reasons we do it accord with his call to holiness, justice and truth.
But is that why we pray the Lord’s Prayer? A sincere desire to connect with God, forgive our debtors, help God’s Kingdom come on earth? Or is it obligation? Filling time? Maybe the comfort of something familiar (which is good!), but devoid of Jesus’ originally intended transformative purpose? Honestly, I don’t know. It may be one, several or none of those options for you; I’m not your heart’s interpreter. Still, it’s so easy in worship or basic Christian living to fill our plates with stuff that, even when important or useful, we just go through the motions.
That’s why I think “letting go” during Lent can be helpful, even if that concept seems odd to you. Intentionally not having something you like or even deem obligatory provides space for remembering why it matters. Obviously, the Lord’s Prayer doesn’t fall into that category for everyone, but it does for some and that’s instructive for all. In a culture that rarely gives up anything it wants, seemingly treats every desire as a need (I wonder how Lent’s experienced in developing countries?), it’s spiritually healthy- maybe essential- to regain perspective regularly. Perhaps letting go of the Lord’s Prayer until Easter will facilitate that for you, not only as regards our worshipping together but even in your life. Have you filled your plate with stuff, obligations, routines and even urgent things that honestly aren’t critical? If so, ask God to help you let go, to keep first things first.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
What next…
I’d planned to write another letter this week, began working on it Sunday even. Then I awoke to rare news Monday- that the current occupant of St. Peter’s See has decided to renounce his position as leader of the Roman Catholic Church. Pope Benedict XVI remains living, but will no longer be Pope. This hasn’t happened since the middle Middle Ages. Wild.
So my writing plan changed. I had questions, which may be answered once the news is no longer fresh. Will he return to being Joseph Ratzinger, or does a retired pope retain the title, like former Mr. Presidents? Will he have any leadership role once he descends the Apostolic Throne, or will he move to a monastery? Why did he do it? Is he dying? Is there unseen tension with the Vatican?
As a professional minister, these ponderings are my version of workplace gossip. Not as interesting to others, but I’m titillated! As a Protestant, though, in a church with some critical differences from Catholicism- ordination of women, noncelibate clergy, mistrust of hierarchy, rejection of creeds- maybe it shouldn’t matter to me. That’s their business, won’t affect mine.
The thing is Pope Benedict is the world’s most visible and influential Christian. Plus, not only does he head the planet’s largest religious organization, he’s also successor to history’s most enduring institution- the Papacy. Consider that the British monarchy’s not yet a thousand years old. The Dalai Lama began teaching in the late 14th century. Perhaps I’m forgetting other organizations or offices, but the Bishop of Rome seems unrivaled to me. Of course, some papal achievements may not be worth celebrating or still condoning. Novel ideas like holy war, the One True Church, infallibility weren’t the institution’s high points. Nevertheless, because of past popes’ efforts, whoever succeeds Benedict will instantly become Christianity’s most listened to voice. He may not be respected, or sought after, or wise, but when he speaks, people will pay attention. And many, Catholic or otherwise, will believe he represents all Jesus followers.
In other words, even Protestants have a stake in the Papacy’s direction. We don’t have a say in where it leads, obviously. But it’s still worthwhile to ponder its possible impact on us.
Suppose the new pope is a disaster; unapologetic about clergy abuse, treats other religions as enemies and not partners. The modern papacy retains trappings of medieval monarchs- thrones, palaces, near absolute authority, expensive regalia meant to project power- and some want a doubling down on that outmoded system. I think such decisions would further alienate modern folk from not just Catholicism, but all Christianity.
Then again, others advocate for a dramatic opening of the institution and church- celebrating Catholicism’s vibrant, multicultural growth in Africa and Asia, investing in its anti-poverty and social justice work that basically no one else does so well or has for so long. When Pope John Paul II visited concentration camps and met with other leaders of world religions, interfaith cooperation leapt forward in ways no one else could’ve achieved. I think such decisions could prove healing and invigorating for all Christians.
Now, I’m not a Benedict XVI scholar, but my feelings of him are mixed. Not as reactionary as I first worried, not as open as I’d choose. But this decision to step down, acknowledging his frailty and restrictions, the unique leadership demands the Papacy requires, it seems a decision of humility, of lifting the pope’s work above his prestige. If that’s right, I think it’s wise. For all the office’s grandiose aura, a flawed human inhabits it. And when the Papacy has failed worst is when a Pope acted as if he’s above normal human limitations. Perhaps by so publically acknowledging he can’t do it all, Benedict will re-energize the office’s humanistic elements. That may present other popes with more realistic expectations, open his church to newer ideas and leadership models. Who knows, it may lead non-Christians to reconsider the most attractive claims of Christian faith? That even flawed humans, broken and compromised, can connect fully with our merciful God, can make the world better, can find redemption, can channel divinity.
Just look at St. Peter. He did alright.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
So my writing plan changed. I had questions, which may be answered once the news is no longer fresh. Will he return to being Joseph Ratzinger, or does a retired pope retain the title, like former Mr. Presidents? Will he have any leadership role once he descends the Apostolic Throne, or will he move to a monastery? Why did he do it? Is he dying? Is there unseen tension with the Vatican?
As a professional minister, these ponderings are my version of workplace gossip. Not as interesting to others, but I’m titillated! As a Protestant, though, in a church with some critical differences from Catholicism- ordination of women, noncelibate clergy, mistrust of hierarchy, rejection of creeds- maybe it shouldn’t matter to me. That’s their business, won’t affect mine.
The thing is Pope Benedict is the world’s most visible and influential Christian. Plus, not only does he head the planet’s largest religious organization, he’s also successor to history’s most enduring institution- the Papacy. Consider that the British monarchy’s not yet a thousand years old. The Dalai Lama began teaching in the late 14th century. Perhaps I’m forgetting other organizations or offices, but the Bishop of Rome seems unrivaled to me. Of course, some papal achievements may not be worth celebrating or still condoning. Novel ideas like holy war, the One True Church, infallibility weren’t the institution’s high points. Nevertheless, because of past popes’ efforts, whoever succeeds Benedict will instantly become Christianity’s most listened to voice. He may not be respected, or sought after, or wise, but when he speaks, people will pay attention. And many, Catholic or otherwise, will believe he represents all Jesus followers.
In other words, even Protestants have a stake in the Papacy’s direction. We don’t have a say in where it leads, obviously. But it’s still worthwhile to ponder its possible impact on us.
Suppose the new pope is a disaster; unapologetic about clergy abuse, treats other religions as enemies and not partners. The modern papacy retains trappings of medieval monarchs- thrones, palaces, near absolute authority, expensive regalia meant to project power- and some want a doubling down on that outmoded system. I think such decisions would further alienate modern folk from not just Catholicism, but all Christianity.
Then again, others advocate for a dramatic opening of the institution and church- celebrating Catholicism’s vibrant, multicultural growth in Africa and Asia, investing in its anti-poverty and social justice work that basically no one else does so well or has for so long. When Pope John Paul II visited concentration camps and met with other leaders of world religions, interfaith cooperation leapt forward in ways no one else could’ve achieved. I think such decisions could prove healing and invigorating for all Christians.
Now, I’m not a Benedict XVI scholar, but my feelings of him are mixed. Not as reactionary as I first worried, not as open as I’d choose. But this decision to step down, acknowledging his frailty and restrictions, the unique leadership demands the Papacy requires, it seems a decision of humility, of lifting the pope’s work above his prestige. If that’s right, I think it’s wise. For all the office’s grandiose aura, a flawed human inhabits it. And when the Papacy has failed worst is when a Pope acted as if he’s above normal human limitations. Perhaps by so publically acknowledging he can’t do it all, Benedict will re-energize the office’s humanistic elements. That may present other popes with more realistic expectations, open his church to newer ideas and leadership models. Who knows, it may lead non-Christians to reconsider the most attractive claims of Christian faith? That even flawed humans, broken and compromised, can connect fully with our merciful God, can make the world better, can find redemption, can channel divinity.
Just look at St. Peter. He did alright.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
I, Robot…
Today’s letter is my attempt to come to terms with something crazy. Something wild and totally fascinating, and fundamentally challenging to our faith.
Here’s the basic issue: In the future, we might be robots. Not made entirely of gadgetry like Rosie in The Jetsons, obviously. Probably (hopefully!) not battling manically destructive liquid mercury fake-people, a la Terminator 2. But the prospect of biologically normal humans becoming significantly integrated with electronic and robotic systems- for purposes like regulating organ function, enhancing mental efficiency, supplementing muscle performance (Lance Armstrong will be jealous) - that kind of science fiction future isn’t just a possibility, it’s nearly upon us. And researchers have a name for the moment when the human species overcomes biological limits through robotic technology. It’s called The Singularity. They predict it’ll happen within my lifetime.
I first encountered serious discussion on this topic a few years back, in a book by a Stanford University professor. His is a good school, I surmised, so maybe this Singularity business is more than weird fantasy. Since then, I’ve had several further occasions to learn more, most recently in a great book written by Peter Diamandis (creator of the X Prize) called Abundance. The book is mostly a discussion of amazing technologies currently in development, plus the author’s argument that these breakthroughs- if coupled with sufficient foresight, courage, and compassion- may just make the future more equitable, verdant and incredible than most present day pessimists allow.
And a key component in this, to me, quite compelling argument is that various fields of research may not only change how food is grown (in mid-air, nutrients delivered via mist, row crops stacked vertical inside downtown skyscrapers), minerals mined (on near-earth asteroids, utilizing zero gravity 3-D printers for spare parts, then commencing extra-terrestrial manufacturing), or clean water delivered (mass distribution in developing countries of nano-technology water filtration systems and/or industrial scale salt water desalination). They could also change the very definition of what it means to be human. Forget verse three of ‘America the Beautiful’? Imagine a Google-search implant in your brain, wirelessly connected to the web. Worried about finding cancerous cells forming before it’s too late? Imagine an early warning system that identifies pre-cancerous growths in real time, then alerts your doctor directly. People are working on this stuff. Production time-lines exist, for better or worse. For Christians, then, whose believe fundamentally in the reality of a Creator, and who then profess the blessed claim to be created in that image, what’s the consequence of technology not just unlocking mobile computing or air travel, but fiddling with the building blocks of God’s most spectacular designs?
I, for one, find the notion (mostly) exhilarating. Jesus claimed in John 10:10, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” That’s Jesus’ ultimate hope: abundant life for all life. With these potential breakthroughs, this author suggests, that hope is realistic for the first time in human history. Food, water, health care, education- globally available and affordable. He wisely notes that abundant life for all life isn’t the same as luxurious living all around. It’s one thing to have enough and another to rock a Rolex! Still, the percentage of people living in extreme poverty is falling most everywhere. It’s possible that trend accelerates as technology changes exponentially. Which it is.
Further, I think the basic claim of Genesis 1- that we’re created in the Creator’s image- not only permits us to be constantly inventive, it’s God’s way of pushing us along. We’re intended to be co-creators with God, taking what is already and seeking improvements. If that leads us to use robotics to make aging easier, surgeries safer, brains faster, we’re not eliminating God’s designs. We’re fulfilling God’s promises, right? There are potential downsides and abuses, no doubt, so let’s pray we’re wise! But should it come to pass soon that technology becomes as important to biology as genetics, then let’s also pray we step into that brave new world not with fear, but Hallelujahs. Thanking God for creating us with creative capacity, with brains that dream the impossible, and with spirits who still rejoice in the limitless abundance of God’s grace.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Here’s the basic issue: In the future, we might be robots. Not made entirely of gadgetry like Rosie in The Jetsons, obviously. Probably (hopefully!) not battling manically destructive liquid mercury fake-people, a la Terminator 2. But the prospect of biologically normal humans becoming significantly integrated with electronic and robotic systems- for purposes like regulating organ function, enhancing mental efficiency, supplementing muscle performance (Lance Armstrong will be jealous) - that kind of science fiction future isn’t just a possibility, it’s nearly upon us. And researchers have a name for the moment when the human species overcomes biological limits through robotic technology. It’s called The Singularity. They predict it’ll happen within my lifetime.
I first encountered serious discussion on this topic a few years back, in a book by a Stanford University professor. His is a good school, I surmised, so maybe this Singularity business is more than weird fantasy. Since then, I’ve had several further occasions to learn more, most recently in a great book written by Peter Diamandis (creator of the X Prize) called Abundance. The book is mostly a discussion of amazing technologies currently in development, plus the author’s argument that these breakthroughs- if coupled with sufficient foresight, courage, and compassion- may just make the future more equitable, verdant and incredible than most present day pessimists allow.
And a key component in this, to me, quite compelling argument is that various fields of research may not only change how food is grown (in mid-air, nutrients delivered via mist, row crops stacked vertical inside downtown skyscrapers), minerals mined (on near-earth asteroids, utilizing zero gravity 3-D printers for spare parts, then commencing extra-terrestrial manufacturing), or clean water delivered (mass distribution in developing countries of nano-technology water filtration systems and/or industrial scale salt water desalination). They could also change the very definition of what it means to be human. Forget verse three of ‘America the Beautiful’? Imagine a Google-search implant in your brain, wirelessly connected to the web. Worried about finding cancerous cells forming before it’s too late? Imagine an early warning system that identifies pre-cancerous growths in real time, then alerts your doctor directly. People are working on this stuff. Production time-lines exist, for better or worse. For Christians, then, whose believe fundamentally in the reality of a Creator, and who then profess the blessed claim to be created in that image, what’s the consequence of technology not just unlocking mobile computing or air travel, but fiddling with the building blocks of God’s most spectacular designs?
I, for one, find the notion (mostly) exhilarating. Jesus claimed in John 10:10, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” That’s Jesus’ ultimate hope: abundant life for all life. With these potential breakthroughs, this author suggests, that hope is realistic for the first time in human history. Food, water, health care, education- globally available and affordable. He wisely notes that abundant life for all life isn’t the same as luxurious living all around. It’s one thing to have enough and another to rock a Rolex! Still, the percentage of people living in extreme poverty is falling most everywhere. It’s possible that trend accelerates as technology changes exponentially. Which it is.
Further, I think the basic claim of Genesis 1- that we’re created in the Creator’s image- not only permits us to be constantly inventive, it’s God’s way of pushing us along. We’re intended to be co-creators with God, taking what is already and seeking improvements. If that leads us to use robotics to make aging easier, surgeries safer, brains faster, we’re not eliminating God’s designs. We’re fulfilling God’s promises, right? There are potential downsides and abuses, no doubt, so let’s pray we’re wise! But should it come to pass soon that technology becomes as important to biology as genetics, then let’s also pray we step into that brave new world not with fear, but Hallelujahs. Thanking God for creating us with creative capacity, with brains that dream the impossible, and with spirits who still rejoice in the limitless abundance of God’s grace.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Letting go…
We had a tough January, didn’t we? And I’m obviously talking about more than cold weather. A couple beloved members passed into God’s forever embrace. That’s tough, although I think one of the most sacred things about church is the time we take to honor departed sisters and brothers in faith. From hospital visits and phone calls, to funeral and graveside services, to remembrances on All Saints Day or using Memorial Funds to leave legacies. This matters because I think our culture has a dysfunctional relationship to death. We barely mention it, manically fear it, put dying people into homes and hospitals for few to see.
But as Dorothy Bass claims in her excellent Practicing Our Faith, proper Christian faith nurtures the practice of “dying well”. And by that she means more than going out the most painless way possible. Rather, “dying well” is about preparing for the end, not endlessly avoiding it. Holding a scared friend’s hand as days grow dim, softly stroking her aching limbs. Singing long-cherished hymns with a sister in faith who lost her voice, or a brother in faith who can’t remember anything else. Looking a dying friend in the eye, saying, “Be strong. We’ll meet again.” And meaning it, in Jesus’ name.
Here’s a wonderful poem- Holy Sonnet 10 by John Donne- that’s bounced around my head the past several weeks:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
At a recent meeting, I recited those words with almost defiant passion. After all, these days my spirit’s waters are churning and roiling and certainly far from the stillness of Psalm 23. But it occurred to me just after that, for Christians committed to Christ, we need not defy Death, nor confront that enemy with anger, screaming, “Our God won!” Rather, as Emma Thomson’s character observes in the brilliant film Wit, that last sentence uses but a comma, a short and whimsical pause, almost apologetic: Death, thou shalt die.
You’ve maybe heard by now that I helped write the 2013 Lenten devotional published by our denomination’s publishing house. We have copies in the office, only $3. The book is organized so that every day includes a scripture, a reflection and a prayer, i.e. 3-5 short minutes to start or end your day with divine companionship.
And the theme for this devotional is “Letting Go.” Which makes sense, right? It’s Lent. “Letting go” of many things makes sense during this season especially. Thus, each week the writers reflect on their attempts to “let go” of something- fear, consumption, control, sin, self…control. We chose that notion because the end of Lent, that glorious Easter morn, when Jesus overcame even Death itself, is that wondrous moment revealing to Christians that new life and hope are perpetually possible. And to experience that anew this year, we wanted to challenge Disciples to slough off our baggage, acknowledge what’s holding us back and just let go! So I encourage you to join me in reading that daily this Lent; I plan to gather folk at church each Wednesday of the season (starting February 20, 6 PM) for conversation on what we’re learning. Then, each Sunday, I’ll preach on one of those themes. Given all that’s flooded my (our?) spirit this past month, I’m ready again to let go! To attempt once more to cast myself fully into the eternally supportive love of God.
You should join me.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
But as Dorothy Bass claims in her excellent Practicing Our Faith, proper Christian faith nurtures the practice of “dying well”. And by that she means more than going out the most painless way possible. Rather, “dying well” is about preparing for the end, not endlessly avoiding it. Holding a scared friend’s hand as days grow dim, softly stroking her aching limbs. Singing long-cherished hymns with a sister in faith who lost her voice, or a brother in faith who can’t remember anything else. Looking a dying friend in the eye, saying, “Be strong. We’ll meet again.” And meaning it, in Jesus’ name.
Here’s a wonderful poem- Holy Sonnet 10 by John Donne- that’s bounced around my head the past several weeks:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
At a recent meeting, I recited those words with almost defiant passion. After all, these days my spirit’s waters are churning and roiling and certainly far from the stillness of Psalm 23. But it occurred to me just after that, for Christians committed to Christ, we need not defy Death, nor confront that enemy with anger, screaming, “Our God won!” Rather, as Emma Thomson’s character observes in the brilliant film Wit, that last sentence uses but a comma, a short and whimsical pause, almost apologetic: Death, thou shalt die.
You’ve maybe heard by now that I helped write the 2013 Lenten devotional published by our denomination’s publishing house. We have copies in the office, only $3. The book is organized so that every day includes a scripture, a reflection and a prayer, i.e. 3-5 short minutes to start or end your day with divine companionship.
And the theme for this devotional is “Letting Go.” Which makes sense, right? It’s Lent. “Letting go” of many things makes sense during this season especially. Thus, each week the writers reflect on their attempts to “let go” of something- fear, consumption, control, sin, self…control. We chose that notion because the end of Lent, that glorious Easter morn, when Jesus overcame even Death itself, is that wondrous moment revealing to Christians that new life and hope are perpetually possible. And to experience that anew this year, we wanted to challenge Disciples to slough off our baggage, acknowledge what’s holding us back and just let go! So I encourage you to join me in reading that daily this Lent; I plan to gather folk at church each Wednesday of the season (starting February 20, 6 PM) for conversation on what we’re learning. Then, each Sunday, I’ll preach on one of those themes. Given all that’s flooded my (our?) spirit this past month, I’m ready again to let go! To attempt once more to cast myself fully into the eternally supportive love of God.
You should join me.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Doing ministry,
Today’s letter is different. It’s two extended announcements. Or rather, my attempt to solicit feedback on what you’d like your church to do.
1) Over the past year, we’ve partnered with St. Barnabas Lutheran on the first Wednesday night of each month. Together, the hope was, we’d recruit volunteers to staff IOCP’s foodshelf and thrift store, 5:30-8PM, so they could keep it open later. Other churches took the other Wednesdays.
Since then, St. Barny’s stopped sending their youth, so they’ve had less volunteers attending. Our volunteers have fluctuated, though recently we’ve been absent. IOCP needs 6-8 foodshelf volunteers each time, and 4-5 thrift store. Regulars can arrive by 5:45. 5:30 for training for first timers. If we stick with St. Barny’s, we’d probably need 5-7 each month. If we switched to Thursdays, once a month, as IOCP now offers, we’d need 10-13 (more, yes, but that would let choir folk participate). Or we could decide this isn’t for us.
Personally, I’d like Plymouth Creekers to do more volunteer service together, and more regularly. It helps build relationships, connect visitors, grow in faith. But I don’t know if church members want this too. So will you please tell me whether you’d like to participate in either of those options, and if so, how regularly you could commit? Those who’ve served before have really enjoyed it…just sayin’…
2) In just the past two weeks, we received a neat opportunity. A pastor I know and respect in Des Moines wrote me, “Shane, the family of a young man who grew up in my church moved to MN last year. Now, he’s looking for a church to do an unpaid internship this Spring. He’s a college junior, considering ordained ministry. So I told him about Plymouth Creek. He checked and liked your website. Heads up that he’ll be calling. Btw, I think he’s a wonderful young man.”
Sure enough, we traded emails, then had a video conference interview. I, too, found him bright and delightful. I asked the Board their verdict on hosting him as a full-time intern for two months (April 8-June 2), and they gave an enthusiastic, “Yes”.
What I’d like from the church, then, are your ideas on how to use his time best, particularly helping him understand what effective church pastors need to do. Feel free to send me project ideas, studies you’d attend, invitations to coffee/lunch at your place, whatever! In other words, I’m hopeful you’ll all pitch in somehow to make the experience a success. He’ll be blown away, I’m sure, by your creativity, faithfulness and wisdom!
I also asked him to write a short intro, so you could learn of him firsthand. Here’s what he sent:
Hi, my name is Hayden. I'm a junior at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH, studying Math and Philosophy. I grew up mostly in West Des Moines, IA, but my family, including my parents Dave and Sandy and two little sisters Bailey (13) and Lacey (11), recently moved to Excelsior, MN, which is how I became acquainted with your church! While it may not be clear from my majors, I've been working out a call into the ministry since about my junior year of high school through prayer, some campus ministries, a few classes I've taken, and participation in worship at the church I attend here at Dartmouth. Accordingly, I'm quite excited to start considering that call a little bit more concretely through my time serving at Plymouth Creek, and very thankful for your support in that process. During my time with you all I hope to gain a better understanding of what it's like to be a minister, to continue learning about the Disciples of Christ, and to grow in knowledge of the specific areas of ministry to which God is calling me, whether that be preaching, church leadership, counseling, teaching, or some combination of them all! In my free time I enjoy walking, singing, reading, praying, playing sports, and talking with others. Hopefully we can do some of those things together soon!
Until then, God bless, Hayden
There we have it, your soon-to-be newest intern! Lots of ministry ahead, amen? Good.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
1) Over the past year, we’ve partnered with St. Barnabas Lutheran on the first Wednesday night of each month. Together, the hope was, we’d recruit volunteers to staff IOCP’s foodshelf and thrift store, 5:30-8PM, so they could keep it open later. Other churches took the other Wednesdays.
Since then, St. Barny’s stopped sending their youth, so they’ve had less volunteers attending. Our volunteers have fluctuated, though recently we’ve been absent. IOCP needs 6-8 foodshelf volunteers each time, and 4-5 thrift store. Regulars can arrive by 5:45. 5:30 for training for first timers. If we stick with St. Barny’s, we’d probably need 5-7 each month. If we switched to Thursdays, once a month, as IOCP now offers, we’d need 10-13 (more, yes, but that would let choir folk participate). Or we could decide this isn’t for us.
Personally, I’d like Plymouth Creekers to do more volunteer service together, and more regularly. It helps build relationships, connect visitors, grow in faith. But I don’t know if church members want this too. So will you please tell me whether you’d like to participate in either of those options, and if so, how regularly you could commit? Those who’ve served before have really enjoyed it…just sayin’…
2) In just the past two weeks, we received a neat opportunity. A pastor I know and respect in Des Moines wrote me, “Shane, the family of a young man who grew up in my church moved to MN last year. Now, he’s looking for a church to do an unpaid internship this Spring. He’s a college junior, considering ordained ministry. So I told him about Plymouth Creek. He checked and liked your website. Heads up that he’ll be calling. Btw, I think he’s a wonderful young man.”
Sure enough, we traded emails, then had a video conference interview. I, too, found him bright and delightful. I asked the Board their verdict on hosting him as a full-time intern for two months (April 8-June 2), and they gave an enthusiastic, “Yes”.
What I’d like from the church, then, are your ideas on how to use his time best, particularly helping him understand what effective church pastors need to do. Feel free to send me project ideas, studies you’d attend, invitations to coffee/lunch at your place, whatever! In other words, I’m hopeful you’ll all pitch in somehow to make the experience a success. He’ll be blown away, I’m sure, by your creativity, faithfulness and wisdom!
I also asked him to write a short intro, so you could learn of him firsthand. Here’s what he sent:
Hi, my name is Hayden. I'm a junior at Dartmouth College in Hanover, NH, studying Math and Philosophy. I grew up mostly in West Des Moines, IA, but my family, including my parents Dave and Sandy and two little sisters Bailey (13) and Lacey (11), recently moved to Excelsior, MN, which is how I became acquainted with your church! While it may not be clear from my majors, I've been working out a call into the ministry since about my junior year of high school through prayer, some campus ministries, a few classes I've taken, and participation in worship at the church I attend here at Dartmouth. Accordingly, I'm quite excited to start considering that call a little bit more concretely through my time serving at Plymouth Creek, and very thankful for your support in that process. During my time with you all I hope to gain a better understanding of what it's like to be a minister, to continue learning about the Disciples of Christ, and to grow in knowledge of the specific areas of ministry to which God is calling me, whether that be preaching, church leadership, counseling, teaching, or some combination of them all! In my free time I enjoy walking, singing, reading, praying, playing sports, and talking with others. Hopefully we can do some of those things together soon!
Until then, God bless, Hayden
There we have it, your soon-to-be newest intern! Lots of ministry ahead, amen? Good.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Clear breathing…
A vile demon has spent the past week assaulting my precious lungs. Every breath I take, it seems, demands excess wheezing and a hearty cough. This afflicting agent (some blasted cold/flu) has abided in my system longer now than any such enemy I’ve battled in recent years. And the length of its unwelcome drawn-out stay reminds me how taken for granted my normal inhalation routine is!
You ever hear people say that our brains “only use 10% of their capacity”? I’m never sure what to make of that statistic; sounds like some misinterpreted, complex study repeated until it became accepted truth.
Nevertheless, I’ve long thought that, if that claim’s onto something, it’s a reminder of how much occurs in our bodies that we rarely control. Like heartbeats, toenail growth, immune system responses. And breath. Indeed, many times I’m actively thinking about my breath are when I don’t want to be! When water’s gone down the wrong tube and I’m gulping for oxygen. When I land on a table and have my breath knocked out. And when I’m hacking up an infection that’s turning my lungs into Bunker Hill. Otherwise, breath just happens; in-out, in-out. Another of the body’s miracles. Another of God’s gifts.
Y’all might recall that ancient Hebrew uses the same word for “breath” as it does “wind” and “spirit”. Ruach, is the English transliterative, and I find the overlapping meanings significant. Like breath, wind is something elusive, misty, transient. John 10:8 quotes Jesus saying, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” That’s one of those esoteric, hard to grasp, significant sounding scriptures. I guess the point is that breath seems to share with wind, and spirit, similar in-out, insubstantial, utterly essential for life characteristics. The Spirit of God moved “over the waters” and created life, Genesis 1 contends. Or maybe it was the wind of God. The breath of God…!
Here’s what I’ve learned about my breath, over the years, and I wonder if the same applies to my spirit (we’ll leave wind aside!). During meditation exercises, or yoga, or long-distance running, I’m intentionally more conscious of my breath than usual. Good singers share this consciousness too; they breathe deep and in “proper” fashion. Not shallow, gulpy breaths that lift their shoulders and don’t bring in good air. But from the diaphragm, the depths of their stomachs, pushing out the gut. That’s where a deep breath arises, after all, one that spreads life-giving air throughout the entire body. During physical activities (running, singing), this matters because the lungs and muscles are screaming out for as much air as possible, right now, thank you very much! During focusing activities (yoga, meditation, prayer), this matters because the deeper the breathing, the stronger the concentration you create. Plus, those are physical activities too. In other words, this deep breathing practice puts the mind and body into a powerful rhythm, one that seemingly reaches into the core of our spirits, and connects us with a more primordial pulse.
At least, that’s the way it can feel if we let our breath work for us, if we’re mindful and open. And as any meditator or long-distance runner will tell you: after the fact, once you’re done focusing so intently on the rhythms of your breath, you feel better. Your peaceful, energized. Your spirit’s lifted. Plus, it gets easier with practice. Pianists talk about how, if they don’t practice for a day, they can tell. A week, their critics can tell. Two weeks, everyone can! Prayerful people say much the same; you just get into a rhythm. Our spirits enjoy the attention, the discipline, the growth.
Which is all basically my random musings on the fact I’m not breathing as well these days as I wish! Perhaps once my lungs have expunged this demon, though, I’ll get back to breathing more deeply, more consciously. Attending more consistently to the connection my breath has with my spirit; trying to catch more frequently the beautiful winds of God.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
You ever hear people say that our brains “only use 10% of their capacity”? I’m never sure what to make of that statistic; sounds like some misinterpreted, complex study repeated until it became accepted truth.
Nevertheless, I’ve long thought that, if that claim’s onto something, it’s a reminder of how much occurs in our bodies that we rarely control. Like heartbeats, toenail growth, immune system responses. And breath. Indeed, many times I’m actively thinking about my breath are when I don’t want to be! When water’s gone down the wrong tube and I’m gulping for oxygen. When I land on a table and have my breath knocked out. And when I’m hacking up an infection that’s turning my lungs into Bunker Hill. Otherwise, breath just happens; in-out, in-out. Another of the body’s miracles. Another of God’s gifts.
Y’all might recall that ancient Hebrew uses the same word for “breath” as it does “wind” and “spirit”. Ruach, is the English transliterative, and I find the overlapping meanings significant. Like breath, wind is something elusive, misty, transient. John 10:8 quotes Jesus saying, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” That’s one of those esoteric, hard to grasp, significant sounding scriptures. I guess the point is that breath seems to share with wind, and spirit, similar in-out, insubstantial, utterly essential for life characteristics. The Spirit of God moved “over the waters” and created life, Genesis 1 contends. Or maybe it was the wind of God. The breath of God…!
Here’s what I’ve learned about my breath, over the years, and I wonder if the same applies to my spirit (we’ll leave wind aside!). During meditation exercises, or yoga, or long-distance running, I’m intentionally more conscious of my breath than usual. Good singers share this consciousness too; they breathe deep and in “proper” fashion. Not shallow, gulpy breaths that lift their shoulders and don’t bring in good air. But from the diaphragm, the depths of their stomachs, pushing out the gut. That’s where a deep breath arises, after all, one that spreads life-giving air throughout the entire body. During physical activities (running, singing), this matters because the lungs and muscles are screaming out for as much air as possible, right now, thank you very much! During focusing activities (yoga, meditation, prayer), this matters because the deeper the breathing, the stronger the concentration you create. Plus, those are physical activities too. In other words, this deep breathing practice puts the mind and body into a powerful rhythm, one that seemingly reaches into the core of our spirits, and connects us with a more primordial pulse.
At least, that’s the way it can feel if we let our breath work for us, if we’re mindful and open. And as any meditator or long-distance runner will tell you: after the fact, once you’re done focusing so intently on the rhythms of your breath, you feel better. Your peaceful, energized. Your spirit’s lifted. Plus, it gets easier with practice. Pianists talk about how, if they don’t practice for a day, they can tell. A week, their critics can tell. Two weeks, everyone can! Prayerful people say much the same; you just get into a rhythm. Our spirits enjoy the attention, the discipline, the growth.
Which is all basically my random musings on the fact I’m not breathing as well these days as I wish! Perhaps once my lungs have expunged this demon, though, I’ll get back to breathing more deeply, more consciously. Attending more consistently to the connection my breath has with my spirit; trying to catch more frequently the beautiful winds of God.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Story time matters...
Our annual Cinema Sermon Series begins this Sunday; several sermons of pairing scripture with film. First up: The Hunger Games, a 2012 adaptation of a young adult book series I found gripping. I know not every Plymouth Creeker is a big movie fan. So you may wonder why each year I take time out for this preaching practice. Am I bored with the Bible? Looking for excuses to watch more movies? Or is there…maybe…a deeper reason?
Well, I hope there’s more to it than subjecting y’all to my silver screen fascination! It has to do, basically, with Jesus, four year-olds and brain development.
Here’s what I mean: You may’ve heard about IOCP’s program called the Caring for Kids Initiative (CfKI). It supports low-income families in our community by offering scholarships for quality preschool. The program’s theory derives from research that strongly shows that good early childhood education helps poor children better prepare for kindergarten. And being prepared for Kindergarten helps them achieve better in school, graduate more frequently, avoid drugs and prison in later life, etc. A great investment for both society and these families. But to make sure their work was successful, in 2010 CfKI sponsored a study of themselves. They tested children with CfKI scholarships and not from similar backgrounds, and found that yes, indeed, CfKI kids scored higher than their counterparts in every tested measure.
Expect for one-“Story Comprehension,” i.e. how well kids who’ve been read books can tell you, after the fact, what happened. The main character’s name. The basic plot outline. Fortunately, gains in other areas justified continued CfKI funding. But because Story Comprehension is a vital component to childhood development, CfKI started a new program to combat the deficiency.
They call it Story Time Matters. It involves recruiting community volunteers who read books to CfKI kids and ask basic questions after the fact. Simple, right? And what do you know? After the program’s first year, CfKI kids showed improvement. Which not only increased scores, but set them up better for a life of learning. Because the program title isn’t just cute. It’s truthful. Stories matter.
Ever notice how Jesus used stories to make his most memorable points? “Who’s my neighbor, whom I should love,” a guy asked him. Jesus said, “Let me tell you about this good Samaritan.” “What’s God’s Kingdom like?” “Here’s a story of Sheep and Goats, a Lost Sheep.” “Who is God?” “Have you heard the one about that Prodigal Son?” Of course, his audience wasn’t just four year-olds beginning their brain’s development. Still, he knew that stories matter well beyond our developmental years.
Indeed, I’m convinced that how we understand our lives, identities, God is indissolubly linked to the stories we tell ourselves. About good and bad, hope and despair. “Who am I,” a person asks. Answer: a story about her birthplace, family, maturation. “Who is God,” the Israelites asked in Sinai. God answered, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of slavery in Egypt…” Stories matter. Story time matters, therefore, if we’re to grow in spirit and mission. That’s why we read the Bible, and why I preach on movies regularly.
You see, the method of storytelling that Jesus preferred- parables- worked for his audience. Oral communication was well respected. Plus, they lacked video cameras! Were he to live these days, however, I’m convinced Jesus would enjoy movies, film and Youtube. See them as opportunities to tell stories about everyday life (like the parables), communicated with dramatic impact. And that matters because we learn through stories, our brains are constructed through “narrative reasoning,” some say. What matters, then, are how well we tell the stories and what they’re encouraging us to believe. Are we convinced life has a happy ending? Does that provide us faith, courage and hope? I think telling the stories of God’s presence with us helps such good things grow in our spirits. And using contemporary storytelling forms like movies helps us integrate that divine story into the ones we tell ourselves.
Besides, stories are enjoyable! Jesus never said church should be bland and boring! So I hope you enjoy this year’s cinema series. Lights…camera…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Well, I hope there’s more to it than subjecting y’all to my silver screen fascination! It has to do, basically, with Jesus, four year-olds and brain development.
Here’s what I mean: You may’ve heard about IOCP’s program called the Caring for Kids Initiative (CfKI). It supports low-income families in our community by offering scholarships for quality preschool. The program’s theory derives from research that strongly shows that good early childhood education helps poor children better prepare for kindergarten. And being prepared for Kindergarten helps them achieve better in school, graduate more frequently, avoid drugs and prison in later life, etc. A great investment for both society and these families. But to make sure their work was successful, in 2010 CfKI sponsored a study of themselves. They tested children with CfKI scholarships and not from similar backgrounds, and found that yes, indeed, CfKI kids scored higher than their counterparts in every tested measure.
Expect for one-“Story Comprehension,” i.e. how well kids who’ve been read books can tell you, after the fact, what happened. The main character’s name. The basic plot outline. Fortunately, gains in other areas justified continued CfKI funding. But because Story Comprehension is a vital component to childhood development, CfKI started a new program to combat the deficiency.
They call it Story Time Matters. It involves recruiting community volunteers who read books to CfKI kids and ask basic questions after the fact. Simple, right? And what do you know? After the program’s first year, CfKI kids showed improvement. Which not only increased scores, but set them up better for a life of learning. Because the program title isn’t just cute. It’s truthful. Stories matter.
Ever notice how Jesus used stories to make his most memorable points? “Who’s my neighbor, whom I should love,” a guy asked him. Jesus said, “Let me tell you about this good Samaritan.” “What’s God’s Kingdom like?” “Here’s a story of Sheep and Goats, a Lost Sheep.” “Who is God?” “Have you heard the one about that Prodigal Son?” Of course, his audience wasn’t just four year-olds beginning their brain’s development. Still, he knew that stories matter well beyond our developmental years.
Indeed, I’m convinced that how we understand our lives, identities, God is indissolubly linked to the stories we tell ourselves. About good and bad, hope and despair. “Who am I,” a person asks. Answer: a story about her birthplace, family, maturation. “Who is God,” the Israelites asked in Sinai. God answered, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of slavery in Egypt…” Stories matter. Story time matters, therefore, if we’re to grow in spirit and mission. That’s why we read the Bible, and why I preach on movies regularly.
You see, the method of storytelling that Jesus preferred- parables- worked for his audience. Oral communication was well respected. Plus, they lacked video cameras! Were he to live these days, however, I’m convinced Jesus would enjoy movies, film and Youtube. See them as opportunities to tell stories about everyday life (like the parables), communicated with dramatic impact. And that matters because we learn through stories, our brains are constructed through “narrative reasoning,” some say. What matters, then, are how well we tell the stories and what they’re encouraging us to believe. Are we convinced life has a happy ending? Does that provide us faith, courage and hope? I think telling the stories of God’s presence with us helps such good things grow in our spirits. And using contemporary storytelling forms like movies helps us integrate that divine story into the ones we tell ourselves.
Besides, stories are enjoyable! Jesus never said church should be bland and boring! So I hope you enjoy this year’s cinema series. Lights…camera…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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