This week’s letter doubles as my annual Pastor’s Report to the Congregation, written for our June Congregational Meeting. Here goes.
First, some numbers. We passed our last budget, June 2012-May 2013, with an expected 4% deficit. John’s Treasurer’s Report will tell you, however, we ended the year with an 11% surplus. That’s due to lower costs, several unexpected receipts and increased giving. Here are two appropriate responses: Wahoo, and Thank you, Lord! This allows us to repay fully our Memorial Fund and enter next year in stronger financial position. You should also know that the Board will tithe from our surplus, because that’s what good Christians do.
During that time, we ran a Capital Campaign for much-needed deferred maintenance. You pledged roughly $84,000, payable over three years. Around 60% has come in already. Well done! Also, please keep paying your pledges… We signed contracts for repaving the parking lot and wait just for loan paperwork to finalize. Then, we’ll schedule the work and proceed to next steps. Slow going, but still going. Another number- 5%. That represents our increased worship attendance. It continues a trajectory we’ve witnessed over the past several years, revealing heath in hospitality and worship. Still, it would behoove us to work harder on reaching out to new people next year.
Behind those numbers, of course, is actual ministry performed. This Spring, we welcomed a wonderful college student as a pastoral intern. He helped open our community garden; it’s our third year in operation, second consecutive at full capacity. He brainstormed with me new additions to worship, and worked with Becky Bell on a more useful church directory. FYI, we also agreed to host another intern from United Seminary, starting in September.
Our Sunday morning Bus Ministry continued, ably adapting to fresh needs. It also helped seniors (whose bimonthly Lunch Bunch remains strong due to Nola’s capable leadership!) drive recently to the Jensen’s Wisconsin cabin for a lovely outing. It transported a group to the Hindu Temple of Maple Grove for an interfaith learning experience.
And speaking of learning and new ideas, last year included many. The Life of Pi Book Group was fun, as was the Lenten Study of a devotional I helped write. Kimberly created a Fitness Challenge for our March food drive, which further included turning donations into a sanctuary Food Sculpture. In April, we hosted a Unity Service with Churches of Christ and independent Christian Churches. The place was packed! You may also recall an Interfaith Thanksgiving Service we helped organize at St. Ed’s Episcopal. A couple after-church events of note- talking Prison Ministry after my March Immersion experience, and learning about Pam and Ben’s mission trip to the Philippines. Worship music remained strong as new things were tried (well done Jeremae and choir!). We had conversations about Islam with our Muslim neighbors and hosted three pastors from local churches during a year-long pulpit exchange. Christmas services welcomed more people than any previous year I’ve been here; Easter was lovely too. Thanks to Barb for stepping in after Jeremae’s injury and LeAnn for another year of quality handbells. A joint Youth Group with Plymouth Presbyterian was attempted, put on hold but remains a future possibility. We undertook several outreach campaigns (Sleep Out with a clergy fashion show, Week of Compassion, MN Foodshare, another joyful CROP Walk-thanks Weavers!), and pulled off a garage sale fundraiser at the gracious Brown’s under Donna Jarvi’s wonderful supervision. We welcomed into our pulpit denominational leader Robert Welsh of the Council on Christian Unity. A redesigned Sunday School became all ages with breakfast for youth, as adults chatted at Dunn Brothers Coffee. Another fellowship picnic occurred during July’s Music in Plymouth (thanks Steve!), and I could mention more.
The point is, several years ago we committed to a vision- To become a beacon of Christian openness and service to the Northwestern Service. Through creative efforts, committed stewardship, exciting outreach and love of God, we made progress toward that vision this year and laid foundation for further growth. Thank you, Plymouth Creek, for delighting in God’s presence and God’s work, and for continuing to welcome all to the table. Onto next year. Keep shining!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Which story…
I found it striking, even troubling, that on the weekend I wrote to Ply about my upcoming sabbatical plans- General Assembly, a month in Bosnia-Herzegovina, ten days in and around Istanbul- the latter of those locales ignited international news. I’m sure by now you’ve seen or read about ongoing protests in Turkey’s largest metropolis. I’m scheduled to fly into that city in just over a month. The timing, I’m sure, is coincidence!
Still, it’s concerning, right? Haven’t we seen massive protest movements destabilize multiple Muslim majority countries in recent years? The differences, of course, should be stated. Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Egypt, each is ethnically Arab. Turkey? Not so much. Besides, and to me this is critical, those earlier movements challenged decades of autocratic rule. The Turkish government would win no model democracy medals, but it allows greater political freedoms than nearly every neighbor.
And yet…my trip’s suddenly awash in questions. If this continues, will we be safe? Is it prudent to still go? On the flip side, part of me wonders whether the timing’s truly fortuitous. Should something historical take place in that county, I’d possibly see the action first hand. I mean, I wouldn’t throw caution into the Black Sea, rush into the center of upheaval and take pictures! If Gezim Square- where the protests began- remains a flashpoint when I arrive, I’d give the park a wide birth. Take in whatever’s happening via TV. Such have been the myriad of thoughts crowding my brain space these past weeks.
Here’s my prediction- and realize I’m in no way an Istanbul expert. Heck, I’m barely even an amateur; insert massive grain of salt now! Still, from what little I know, I’m guessing that Turkey won’t devolve into another Syria. Civil war against a dictator is a far cry from protesting elected officials. The Turkish Prime Minister has garnered for over a decade unprecedented popular support. He hasn’t dealt with this “crisis” very deftly. But he’s not bombing his people or torturing dissidents.
So I’m hoping that within the month Istanbul won’t suddenly be closed to tourists. The US State Department might produce some “warnings,” but they do that for myriads of countries. When Tabitha lived in Honduras for several months, State claimed it had a reputation for murder and kidnapping. I’m sure that happened, and mourn for the victims, but many visited safely, Tabitha included. As with all things foreign travel, tourists should exercise caution. Guard your passport. Check your sources. Avoid conspicuous behavior and proven hotbeds. But unless the situation devolves dramatically, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. Perhaps that’s rationalizing, given the plane ticket costs. Still, this opportunity arises only so often.
I heard a novelist from Liberia on the radio today counsel people against “single narratives.” What she meant was that it’s often our nature to hear one thing about others, and believe just that. For instance, Western folk long had a “single narrative” about Africans. They were poor, tribal, backward, violent, and that, basically, was that. When she moved to America for college, her roommate was stunned she spoke good English. “It’s Liberia’s national language,” she said. The roommate had no answer. It’s not just Africans we do that to, of course. Immigrants, gays, southerners, shall I go on? And it’s not just Westerners. Many Pakistanis believe a conspiratorial “single narrative” about Americans.
Life, however, is always messier, more complex, richer than one story. It’s true in your life, in mine, for communities, ethnicities, nations. News reports of Turkish protests naturally latch onto the wild and violent. However, what’s also true is YouTube videos of dancing youth, making light of their serious demands, inflecting humor into the narrative. Satire has strong political force, but only if we’re open to listening. So that’s my aim these next weeks- seek as full a picture of what’s happening as possible. And if the multiple narratives, on balance, suggest more danger for me than safety, then I’ll find some other way to use my time, enjoy my rest, pursue my goals. I’m guessing, though, it’ll be alright. The story of peace remains powerful. Pray for me. Pray for Turkey. Pray for love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Still, it’s concerning, right? Haven’t we seen massive protest movements destabilize multiple Muslim majority countries in recent years? The differences, of course, should be stated. Syria, Libya, Tunisia, Egypt, each is ethnically Arab. Turkey? Not so much. Besides, and to me this is critical, those earlier movements challenged decades of autocratic rule. The Turkish government would win no model democracy medals, but it allows greater political freedoms than nearly every neighbor.
And yet…my trip’s suddenly awash in questions. If this continues, will we be safe? Is it prudent to still go? On the flip side, part of me wonders whether the timing’s truly fortuitous. Should something historical take place in that county, I’d possibly see the action first hand. I mean, I wouldn’t throw caution into the Black Sea, rush into the center of upheaval and take pictures! If Gezim Square- where the protests began- remains a flashpoint when I arrive, I’d give the park a wide birth. Take in whatever’s happening via TV. Such have been the myriad of thoughts crowding my brain space these past weeks.
Here’s my prediction- and realize I’m in no way an Istanbul expert. Heck, I’m barely even an amateur; insert massive grain of salt now! Still, from what little I know, I’m guessing that Turkey won’t devolve into another Syria. Civil war against a dictator is a far cry from protesting elected officials. The Turkish Prime Minister has garnered for over a decade unprecedented popular support. He hasn’t dealt with this “crisis” very deftly. But he’s not bombing his people or torturing dissidents.
So I’m hoping that within the month Istanbul won’t suddenly be closed to tourists. The US State Department might produce some “warnings,” but they do that for myriads of countries. When Tabitha lived in Honduras for several months, State claimed it had a reputation for murder and kidnapping. I’m sure that happened, and mourn for the victims, but many visited safely, Tabitha included. As with all things foreign travel, tourists should exercise caution. Guard your passport. Check your sources. Avoid conspicuous behavior and proven hotbeds. But unless the situation devolves dramatically, I’m not ready to throw in the towel. Perhaps that’s rationalizing, given the plane ticket costs. Still, this opportunity arises only so often.
I heard a novelist from Liberia on the radio today counsel people against “single narratives.” What she meant was that it’s often our nature to hear one thing about others, and believe just that. For instance, Western folk long had a “single narrative” about Africans. They were poor, tribal, backward, violent, and that, basically, was that. When she moved to America for college, her roommate was stunned she spoke good English. “It’s Liberia’s national language,” she said. The roommate had no answer. It’s not just Africans we do that to, of course. Immigrants, gays, southerners, shall I go on? And it’s not just Westerners. Many Pakistanis believe a conspiratorial “single narrative” about Americans.
Life, however, is always messier, more complex, richer than one story. It’s true in your life, in mine, for communities, ethnicities, nations. News reports of Turkish protests naturally latch onto the wild and violent. However, what’s also true is YouTube videos of dancing youth, making light of their serious demands, inflecting humor into the narrative. Satire has strong political force, but only if we’re open to listening. So that’s my aim these next weeks- seek as full a picture of what’s happening as possible. And if the multiple narratives, on balance, suggest more danger for me than safety, then I’ll find some other way to use my time, enjoy my rest, pursue my goals. I’m guessing, though, it’ll be alright. The story of peace remains powerful. Pray for me. Pray for Turkey. Pray for love.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Priestly time…
Responding to the sudden discovery that Minnesota might finally experience Spring, gluttonous aromas wafted into my backyard last weekend. In other words, grilling season arrived! Backyard hamburgers were cooking, bratwursts roasting and bursting and spreading wondrous scents across the neighborhood. Hallelujah! Perhaps you got in on the action. My grill has, sadly, stayed dormant. Not for long, though. I fully intend to participate soon in this most ancient of civilized pursuits.
Recently, I finished a wonderful book, which I’m recommending heartily. It’s called “Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation” by foodie demigod Michael Pollan. Essentially, it describes his multiyear process of learning to cook. Which surprised me, since I assumed he already did this well, since he’s written several bestsellers about food. Apparently not. He’d only done basic stuff previously, but now wanted deeper knowledge, leading Pollan, among other pursuits, to learn the secrets of Barbeque.
And by Barbeque, I mean cooking much more involved than Hebrew Nationals on your Webber grill. Pollan studied under Southern masters who use that term exclusively for whole hogs. You read that right. Whole Hog Barbeque, slow-roasted overnight with fanatical attention. No charcoal employed. No sauce allowed. Real wood fires, vinegar, salt, time. I’ve roasted a whole hog once. It was good, but nowhere near the production he described. Still, in doing so, Pollan informs me, I paid homage to the earliest of religious practice.
Think back to Hebrew Bible times or Greek myths of pre-modern peoples pleasing the gods. Animal sacrifice, you’ll recall, was the go-to, trustworthy method. Some stories tell of whole herds of cattle butchered and burnt, entreating Yaweh to send rain. More typically, a family, village or tribe slaughtered and offered one or two beasts, believing that this sacrificing precious resources satisfied fickle deities.
Of course, a natural question to ask is, “What did they do with all that meat?” One obvious answer: people ate it. Sometimes, perhaps in earlier days, the flames would render all sacrifices into crispy char. But eventually, people proposed that “spiritual” gods don’t care about flesh. What mattered were those scrumptious smells billowing heavenward with delicious appeal. So the gods wouldn’t mind, this thinking goes, if we feasted on what remained. In fact, some temple or priestly authorities relied on this sacrifice economy to feed religious specialists, who’d utter and mumble, chant and excite on-looking common folk with elaborate rituals. All while attending spits of roasting hogs- or in Israel’s case, non-pork meats!- slowly transforming dead flesh into spectacular food for God and humanity.
Imagine that the next time you watch some guy hover over a grill with sacred intensity. He (and it’s usually men, right? Like religious professionals almost always were until recent decades, alas) is simply modernizing the ancient priestly vocation of intermediating between us and the divine realm, evoking ancestors who thought this open-flame performance art would enhance God’s pleasure and bless God’s people. The immediate proof of that desired blessing, of course, would be plates piled high with tasty glory. I’m unsure how often the “common” folk shared in this bounty during biblical times, but nowadays we frequently invite many to the outdoor table.
Which is as it should be. Good religious ritual ought inspire and create community. The bread and cup of Holy Communion, after all, are certainly not intended for solo consumption. At least in our church, they function to bring God’s people together. And we need that. For we live separate lives mostly, sometime argue, debate and quibble. Yet around the loaf of love and wine of resurrection, we’re reminded over and over that we’re always one. Bound together through grace, inspired with hope, nourished by sacramental transformation for faithful action. That’s the intention, goal and often the outcome of why we celebrate Christ’s sacrifice. Memorial Day cookouts, typically, don’t presume such lofty pretentions! But if undertaken with careful attention, quality foods and good company, they just may remind us that from eons past we’ve found holiness in feeding each other. Especially when we invite neighbors. By God, I’m suddenly hungry…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Recently, I finished a wonderful book, which I’m recommending heartily. It’s called “Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation” by foodie demigod Michael Pollan. Essentially, it describes his multiyear process of learning to cook. Which surprised me, since I assumed he already did this well, since he’s written several bestsellers about food. Apparently not. He’d only done basic stuff previously, but now wanted deeper knowledge, leading Pollan, among other pursuits, to learn the secrets of Barbeque.
And by Barbeque, I mean cooking much more involved than Hebrew Nationals on your Webber grill. Pollan studied under Southern masters who use that term exclusively for whole hogs. You read that right. Whole Hog Barbeque, slow-roasted overnight with fanatical attention. No charcoal employed. No sauce allowed. Real wood fires, vinegar, salt, time. I’ve roasted a whole hog once. It was good, but nowhere near the production he described. Still, in doing so, Pollan informs me, I paid homage to the earliest of religious practice.
Think back to Hebrew Bible times or Greek myths of pre-modern peoples pleasing the gods. Animal sacrifice, you’ll recall, was the go-to, trustworthy method. Some stories tell of whole herds of cattle butchered and burnt, entreating Yaweh to send rain. More typically, a family, village or tribe slaughtered and offered one or two beasts, believing that this sacrificing precious resources satisfied fickle deities.
Of course, a natural question to ask is, “What did they do with all that meat?” One obvious answer: people ate it. Sometimes, perhaps in earlier days, the flames would render all sacrifices into crispy char. But eventually, people proposed that “spiritual” gods don’t care about flesh. What mattered were those scrumptious smells billowing heavenward with delicious appeal. So the gods wouldn’t mind, this thinking goes, if we feasted on what remained. In fact, some temple or priestly authorities relied on this sacrifice economy to feed religious specialists, who’d utter and mumble, chant and excite on-looking common folk with elaborate rituals. All while attending spits of roasting hogs- or in Israel’s case, non-pork meats!- slowly transforming dead flesh into spectacular food for God and humanity.
Imagine that the next time you watch some guy hover over a grill with sacred intensity. He (and it’s usually men, right? Like religious professionals almost always were until recent decades, alas) is simply modernizing the ancient priestly vocation of intermediating between us and the divine realm, evoking ancestors who thought this open-flame performance art would enhance God’s pleasure and bless God’s people. The immediate proof of that desired blessing, of course, would be plates piled high with tasty glory. I’m unsure how often the “common” folk shared in this bounty during biblical times, but nowadays we frequently invite many to the outdoor table.
Which is as it should be. Good religious ritual ought inspire and create community. The bread and cup of Holy Communion, after all, are certainly not intended for solo consumption. At least in our church, they function to bring God’s people together. And we need that. For we live separate lives mostly, sometime argue, debate and quibble. Yet around the loaf of love and wine of resurrection, we’re reminded over and over that we’re always one. Bound together through grace, inspired with hope, nourished by sacramental transformation for faithful action. That’s the intention, goal and often the outcome of why we celebrate Christ’s sacrifice. Memorial Day cookouts, typically, don’t presume such lofty pretentions! But if undertaken with careful attention, quality foods and good company, they just may remind us that from eons past we’ve found holiness in feeding each other. Especially when we invite neighbors. By God, I’m suddenly hungry…
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Sabbath…
In March, I presented a sabbatical plan to the church Board. My call agreement (or, in non-church speak, “contract”) allows for a two-month sabbatical every five years. To all our shock, I’ve actually been here that long, or will have been this August 3. But I thought it best to go before fall. They agreed, and approved the plan.
Since then, some of you have asked about it, so here’s the scoop. First, the primary goals of sabbaticals in general are rest, reconnection and time away. Every week, in fact, God hopes we’ll do some of that in our own lives- take a Sabbath. Because we’re created for more than work. Our spirits need rest. And in the larger rhythm of my job as pastor, I’m afforded an occasional, longer-lasting Sabbath/sabbatical period. I wish, in fact, every working person could do this; get away and recharge. I think society would see increased productivity, happiness, job satisfaction. Modern America has a dysfunctional relationship with work, after all. Rest isn’t weakness; it’s power.
Anyway, pastoral sabbaticals usually include more than rest, particularly for younger ministers like me. It’s hoped we’d use this opportunity for some unique project. In the weekly rush from sermon to sermon, I don’t always have time to discover and fully develop new ideas. On Sabbatical, though, I won’t check emails, answer calls or visit hospitals. Instead, I’ll pull forward thoughts I’ve put on the back burner, but still consider valuable for our church and its ministry.
So what are those thoughts, that project, and how will I pursue it? Well, to be specific, I’ll be gone for eight weeks- July 14 through September 7. For the first week, I’ll be in Orlando with Tabitha attending our denomination’s bi-annual General Assembly. A colleague, Rebecca Garner, will preach for you that day, along with once more in August. Hayden Kvamme, our Spring Intern, will preach twice over that time, Tabitha three times. I’m still looking for one more- August 11- send me any suggestions. So we’ll be covered while I’m gone. It’ll be an exciting break for you too!
Once I return from Florida, I leave again, almost immediately, by myself this time. I’ll fly to Istanbul, Turkey then onto Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina, where I’ll live for four weeks. I hope to explore the city, wander the countryside, visit religious sites and meet new people. I’ll run, and write, and learn as best I can to cook Bosnian food. You see, for many centuries, the lands that now make up this country have been home to multiple religious traditions. Currently, the country’s majority Muslim, but there are strong influences of Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Christianity. In fact, I can’t think of another part of the world who’s dealt with such an interfaith society as long as Bosnia and the surrounding Balkans. Some of that history is bloody, some is wonderful, but it’s deep and old and vast.
And as a pastor who believes the American church needs to change- dramatically- in order to meet the increasingly interfaith reality of our future, I think it’s wise for us to learn from places like Bosnia. We need to know what to avoid, what to encourage, how to work and eat together. Only four weeks of touring and absorbing won’t make me an expert, but it will help me encounter these questions more deeply. Once that’s over, I’ll fly back to Istanbul (another great city with deep interfaith roots) where Tabitha will meet me for nine days of exploring and reuniting. We’ll fly home. I’ll hug Fawkes, work on a couple things, then welcome my parents for a visit. And I’ll be back with you September 8, recharged and rearing to go!
I’ve left several things out in this retelling, so feel free to ask more questions. Still, that’s sufficient as an overview, I think, to help you imagine where I’ll be and why. Remember, this time apart is as much for the church- you!- as it is for me. So, together, may we pause and breathe, wherever in the world we’ll be, reconnecting with our deepest hopes, accepting God’s loving leadership in new ways.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Since then, some of you have asked about it, so here’s the scoop. First, the primary goals of sabbaticals in general are rest, reconnection and time away. Every week, in fact, God hopes we’ll do some of that in our own lives- take a Sabbath. Because we’re created for more than work. Our spirits need rest. And in the larger rhythm of my job as pastor, I’m afforded an occasional, longer-lasting Sabbath/sabbatical period. I wish, in fact, every working person could do this; get away and recharge. I think society would see increased productivity, happiness, job satisfaction. Modern America has a dysfunctional relationship with work, after all. Rest isn’t weakness; it’s power.
Anyway, pastoral sabbaticals usually include more than rest, particularly for younger ministers like me. It’s hoped we’d use this opportunity for some unique project. In the weekly rush from sermon to sermon, I don’t always have time to discover and fully develop new ideas. On Sabbatical, though, I won’t check emails, answer calls or visit hospitals. Instead, I’ll pull forward thoughts I’ve put on the back burner, but still consider valuable for our church and its ministry.
So what are those thoughts, that project, and how will I pursue it? Well, to be specific, I’ll be gone for eight weeks- July 14 through September 7. For the first week, I’ll be in Orlando with Tabitha attending our denomination’s bi-annual General Assembly. A colleague, Rebecca Garner, will preach for you that day, along with once more in August. Hayden Kvamme, our Spring Intern, will preach twice over that time, Tabitha three times. I’m still looking for one more- August 11- send me any suggestions. So we’ll be covered while I’m gone. It’ll be an exciting break for you too!
Once I return from Florida, I leave again, almost immediately, by myself this time. I’ll fly to Istanbul, Turkey then onto Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina, where I’ll live for four weeks. I hope to explore the city, wander the countryside, visit religious sites and meet new people. I’ll run, and write, and learn as best I can to cook Bosnian food. You see, for many centuries, the lands that now make up this country have been home to multiple religious traditions. Currently, the country’s majority Muslim, but there are strong influences of Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Christianity. In fact, I can’t think of another part of the world who’s dealt with such an interfaith society as long as Bosnia and the surrounding Balkans. Some of that history is bloody, some is wonderful, but it’s deep and old and vast.
And as a pastor who believes the American church needs to change- dramatically- in order to meet the increasingly interfaith reality of our future, I think it’s wise for us to learn from places like Bosnia. We need to know what to avoid, what to encourage, how to work and eat together. Only four weeks of touring and absorbing won’t make me an expert, but it will help me encounter these questions more deeply. Once that’s over, I’ll fly back to Istanbul (another great city with deep interfaith roots) where Tabitha will meet me for nine days of exploring and reuniting. We’ll fly home. I’ll hug Fawkes, work on a couple things, then welcome my parents for a visit. And I’ll be back with you September 8, recharged and rearing to go!
I’ve left several things out in this retelling, so feel free to ask more questions. Still, that’s sufficient as an overview, I think, to help you imagine where I’ll be and why. Remember, this time apart is as much for the church- you!- as it is for me. So, together, may we pause and breathe, wherever in the world we’ll be, reconnecting with our deepest hopes, accepting God’s loving leadership in new ways.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, May 23, 2013
What Have I learned about PCCC?
Hospitable, agile, curious, and fun.
Plymouth Creekers,
These are some of the more quirky ways I would describe Plymouth Creek Christian Church and its members, and characteristics I have come to appreciate as important for a church to have during my time here. Of course, they are not traits that apply to everyone all of the time, but they are nevertheless present and, in my opinion, worth continuing to aspire to.
I find them especially significant because of the little bit that I have discovered along the way about this church’s past. Based on the conversations I have had with a few of you, it would be easy for you all to focus on the time between the initial break some of you made with First Christian Church in Minneapolis and the construction of the building you all now call home. I could understand this focus on the past. A number of charter members of PCCC are still in attendance. And yet it seems that this focus on the past at this time, for most, would lead either to sadness and weariness or to too quick a sense of accomplishment and completion. So I admire that you all have chosen instead to “let your gaze be straight before you,” as Proverbs would advise. For otherwise it would be easy to be stiff in your ways, hostile to more change, and therefore skeptical of new things and people as well as altogether too serious. But instead through Shane’s and others’ leadership, a mutual faithfulness towards one another, and a willingness to be honest and vulnerable before God and each other, I have seen what appears to me to be the fruit of your ongoing decision to be agile rather than stiff, curious rather than hostile, hospitable rather than skeptical, and fun rather than altogether too serious.
I have seen this, for instance, on Holy Hilarity Sunday. We laughed and celebrated with joy even through hard times of uncertainty in, for instance, Pat Farr’s condition (praise God for her return home). I have seen this having coffee with a number of you. You asked me questions about my life and chose to invest in my short time here. I have seen this from the pulpit as I began my sermon. I received not harsh, blank stares but smiling, interested faces. And I have seen this at Servant Leader and Board meetings, where people have been honest and unafraid about trying new things and caring deeply for one another.
None of this is to say that there are not still wounds from the past and present waiting to be healed, voids of hurt or even resentment that haven’t experienced full reconciliation, and questions about where you all are going and how you are going to get there. But I think it is to say that there is reason to celebrate. There is reason to celebrate the community that exists here and the values that community (you all) are going after together. Bravo. I, for one, am excited to be a part of it. Thanks for letting me. May God continue to guide you this week and for a long time after.
Your grateful intern,
Hayden Read more!
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Tradition!…
Have you seen Fiddler on the Roof? It’s been many years, personally. Yet I can still easily recall its catchy songs if I’m feeling so inclined. And I have been recently; Fiddler’s opening tune bouncing through my brain space. It’s called, “Tradition,” in which the characters describe various roles expected of people in their rustic village.
There’s the papa, “Who day and night must scramble for a living, feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers.” There’s the mama, “Who must know the way to make a proper home, a quiet home, a kosher home” (the story’s about an early 20th century Russian Jewish community struggling to navigate society changing around them). There’s the son, “I hear they picked a bride for me, I hope…she’s pretty.” And the daughter, “preparing me to marry whoever Papa picks!”
Things have changed, amen? And not just for Jewish communities in rural Russia! Contemporary Americans, when deciding family or gender roles, choose among a range of options, if they choose at all. Most marriages are no longer arranged. Dual income households appear frequently. Just this week, Minnesota approved same sex marriage. Fiddler’s celebrated matchmaker Tseitel would have catching up to do.
Embedded in this song, and much conversation about “tradition”, I think, is a familiar notion, that tradition is something we inherit that’s stable, established, set. On Sunday, I talked with someone about the role of tradition in our faith community. Early Disciples looked down on “tradition,” equating it with “man-made” developments and mistakes. By contrast, they wanted to return to scripture’s original teachings, restoring The early church.
Since then, we’ve learned that such thinking was rather incomplete. For instance, the New Testament says nothing clear on the Trinity; that doctrine developed later. The early church(es!) rarely agreed on how to treat converts, slaves, women. The Bible’s books weren’t decided upon until the 4th century. Before then, various faith communities considered a glut of material “inspired scripture.” All of which is to say that many well-loved theological ideas were the outcome of post-resurrection debates. In hindsight, these are our “tradition”. At the time, they were fraught conversations, new initiatives, creative solutions, hard work.
Many theologians, in fact, advocate an important idea we should take seriously. No “tradition” is ever settled. It’s always in process, evolving. Take the marriage debate. For many good and faithful people, traditional marriage means one man, one woman, that’s it. Such a description, of course, would be news to patriarch Abraham and his several wives. Which isn’t to say those who espouse what they now call “traditional marriage” are necessarily wrong to think thus. Instead, it’s to reframe the question, asking what our ancestors discerned about relationships that inspired them to change tradition and reject polygamy.
And it further highlights another critical fact about tradition, to my mind. Precisely because it’s never settled, filled with competing voices, complicated and unclear, those of us who claim allegiance to a faith tradition have responsibility for its future. Personally, when required to make decisions about our faith tradition- what to accept, avoid, teach, or work to change- I begin with Love. That’s the dominant thread I discern running through the story of Creation, Israel’s sojourns, Jesus’ resurrection, the church’s adventure. The God of all who created all, loves all. And wants us to love all in return. That’s why I support this week’s marriage decision, and why I don’t belittle other faithful souls who disagree with me about that. God’s best name is Love. And that extends to everyone, no exceptions, I believe. But there are forces at work who deny the divine power of love, nurture division and promote discord. Should they, from either within or beyond Christianity, gain control over defining our “tradition”, our church’s work will be harder. Christ’s mission through us will be hurt.
So it’s up to us to take our tradition seriously, wrestle with its complexities, work for its development. We can’t just ignore it or concede to it. Those who gifted it to us are counting on us. I won’t pretend that’s easy, precisely because we might disagree. But doing so, while sticking together in love, is- traditionally speaking- divine.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
There’s the papa, “Who day and night must scramble for a living, feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers.” There’s the mama, “Who must know the way to make a proper home, a quiet home, a kosher home” (the story’s about an early 20th century Russian Jewish community struggling to navigate society changing around them). There’s the son, “I hear they picked a bride for me, I hope…she’s pretty.” And the daughter, “preparing me to marry whoever Papa picks!”
Things have changed, amen? And not just for Jewish communities in rural Russia! Contemporary Americans, when deciding family or gender roles, choose among a range of options, if they choose at all. Most marriages are no longer arranged. Dual income households appear frequently. Just this week, Minnesota approved same sex marriage. Fiddler’s celebrated matchmaker Tseitel would have catching up to do.
Embedded in this song, and much conversation about “tradition”, I think, is a familiar notion, that tradition is something we inherit that’s stable, established, set. On Sunday, I talked with someone about the role of tradition in our faith community. Early Disciples looked down on “tradition,” equating it with “man-made” developments and mistakes. By contrast, they wanted to return to scripture’s original teachings, restoring The early church.
Since then, we’ve learned that such thinking was rather incomplete. For instance, the New Testament says nothing clear on the Trinity; that doctrine developed later. The early church(es!) rarely agreed on how to treat converts, slaves, women. The Bible’s books weren’t decided upon until the 4th century. Before then, various faith communities considered a glut of material “inspired scripture.” All of which is to say that many well-loved theological ideas were the outcome of post-resurrection debates. In hindsight, these are our “tradition”. At the time, they were fraught conversations, new initiatives, creative solutions, hard work.
Many theologians, in fact, advocate an important idea we should take seriously. No “tradition” is ever settled. It’s always in process, evolving. Take the marriage debate. For many good and faithful people, traditional marriage means one man, one woman, that’s it. Such a description, of course, would be news to patriarch Abraham and his several wives. Which isn’t to say those who espouse what they now call “traditional marriage” are necessarily wrong to think thus. Instead, it’s to reframe the question, asking what our ancestors discerned about relationships that inspired them to change tradition and reject polygamy.
And it further highlights another critical fact about tradition, to my mind. Precisely because it’s never settled, filled with competing voices, complicated and unclear, those of us who claim allegiance to a faith tradition have responsibility for its future. Personally, when required to make decisions about our faith tradition- what to accept, avoid, teach, or work to change- I begin with Love. That’s the dominant thread I discern running through the story of Creation, Israel’s sojourns, Jesus’ resurrection, the church’s adventure. The God of all who created all, loves all. And wants us to love all in return. That’s why I support this week’s marriage decision, and why I don’t belittle other faithful souls who disagree with me about that. God’s best name is Love. And that extends to everyone, no exceptions, I believe. But there are forces at work who deny the divine power of love, nurture division and promote discord. Should they, from either within or beyond Christianity, gain control over defining our “tradition”, our church’s work will be harder. Christ’s mission through us will be hurt.
So it’s up to us to take our tradition seriously, wrestle with its complexities, work for its development. We can’t just ignore it or concede to it. Those who gifted it to us are counting on us. I won’t pretend that’s easy, precisely because we might disagree. But doing so, while sticking together in love, is- traditionally speaking- divine.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Receipts…
Forgive me for bringing this up waaaayy too early. But I’m skeptical about the phenomenon of Christmas gift receipts. Sure, you can include with any gift a special receipt without price, allowing for easy return. But mostly, we do this with Christmas gifts. And I think the trend’s increasing.
Which annoys me, instinctively. Perhaps I’m missing the point. But consider that, first off, it’s a total lie; if you return the gift, you learn the price anyway. So apparently, you’re only not supposed to know the gift’s value if you use it, as intended. But if not, who cares? I find that confusing. More importantly, though, why are we so obsessed with returning gifts in the first place?! Do we feel entitled to critique what others spend freely on us, judging whether it’s truly worthy of our possessing it? I know not everyone feels this way, and that some gifts are epically bad. Nevertheless, a gift is a gift. It’s something you don’t pay for, that you had no claim to originally. So say you’re welcome, enjoy it or put it in the closet. A poor gift does no harm. Usually.
But it’s May. We should be thinking not of Christmas, but sun, gardens and vacations. And, of course, pledge campaigns. PCCC does this annually, ask PCCCers to make pledges for next year’s budget. I won’t focus on that except to remind you a) pledges by May 19 please!, and b) our 2013 theme is spiritual gifts.
So…about spirituals gifts, what are yours? How do you give them, develop them, gracefully receive others’? It’s an awkward question for MN-nice folk. We don’t like proclaiming our gifts. The thing is, though, God created you. God’s Spirit dwells within you. So you have spiritual gifts. Deal with it. No heavenly Macy’s available for return!
The question, therefore, is one of stewardship, using our gifted resources well. And one way I think PCCC does this is through participation in worship. We both receive others’ gifts and share ours through prayer, fellowship, song. So to explore that, I recently asked intern Hayden to think with me about our worship, asking whether our church shares well our best gifts each Sunday. Our decision: Maybe, often, many prayers are wonderful , the choir’s joyous! But the deeper stuff- Plymouth Creek’s values- don’t get shared consistently enough, obviously enough. Would every Sunday visitor know we value unconditional hospitality? Friendly, intimate community? Freedom of belief? Joyful service? Some Sundays, totally obvious. Other Sundays, not really.
Plus, I don’t think we’re “receiving” or probing these values as richly as we could. The reason: Your worship planner- me!- doesn’t communicate in those terms regularly. So we’re making a couple tweaks this month; a good ole PCCC worship experiment. First, we’re including one non-scripture reading in every service, something from a novel, poem or wise sage related to that week’s scripture. Hopefully, this communicates to us and newcomers that we welcome many voices to the table, believing God works beyond our walls, inviting us to follow! Second, we’ll take a half minute or so after each sermon for personal prayer and reflection. This acknowledges that preachers never “finish” the sermon; listeners do! So with Jeremae softly playing as everyone ponders prayerfully (or waits patiently), we’ll have more freedom to believe and decide how God wants us to live.
Maybe you’ll like these experiments. Maybe not. But we’re trying, which matters. Put differently, we’re hoping to include more gifts in our worship, and give ourselves more chances to receive them well. If it works, these gifts could welcome visitors better, while empowering us to serve God’s world more. If it doesn’t work, consider this letter a worship gift receipt. We’ll stop, start over and try again! The point is, you never get a gift if you’re not opening to receiving it. Either you turn it away, or return it for yourself, and then it’s not a gift anymore, not really. Which is fine if the original gift was a ghastly, ugly sweater! But for spiritual gifts, more’s at stake; God’s kingdom come on earth. May we have courage to receive- and give- as God intends. Worshipfully, consistently, together.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Which annoys me, instinctively. Perhaps I’m missing the point. But consider that, first off, it’s a total lie; if you return the gift, you learn the price anyway. So apparently, you’re only not supposed to know the gift’s value if you use it, as intended. But if not, who cares? I find that confusing. More importantly, though, why are we so obsessed with returning gifts in the first place?! Do we feel entitled to critique what others spend freely on us, judging whether it’s truly worthy of our possessing it? I know not everyone feels this way, and that some gifts are epically bad. Nevertheless, a gift is a gift. It’s something you don’t pay for, that you had no claim to originally. So say you’re welcome, enjoy it or put it in the closet. A poor gift does no harm. Usually.
But it’s May. We should be thinking not of Christmas, but sun, gardens and vacations. And, of course, pledge campaigns. PCCC does this annually, ask PCCCers to make pledges for next year’s budget. I won’t focus on that except to remind you a) pledges by May 19 please!, and b) our 2013 theme is spiritual gifts.
So…about spirituals gifts, what are yours? How do you give them, develop them, gracefully receive others’? It’s an awkward question for MN-nice folk. We don’t like proclaiming our gifts. The thing is, though, God created you. God’s Spirit dwells within you. So you have spiritual gifts. Deal with it. No heavenly Macy’s available for return!
The question, therefore, is one of stewardship, using our gifted resources well. And one way I think PCCC does this is through participation in worship. We both receive others’ gifts and share ours through prayer, fellowship, song. So to explore that, I recently asked intern Hayden to think with me about our worship, asking whether our church shares well our best gifts each Sunday. Our decision: Maybe, often, many prayers are wonderful , the choir’s joyous! But the deeper stuff- Plymouth Creek’s values- don’t get shared consistently enough, obviously enough. Would every Sunday visitor know we value unconditional hospitality? Friendly, intimate community? Freedom of belief? Joyful service? Some Sundays, totally obvious. Other Sundays, not really.
Plus, I don’t think we’re “receiving” or probing these values as richly as we could. The reason: Your worship planner- me!- doesn’t communicate in those terms regularly. So we’re making a couple tweaks this month; a good ole PCCC worship experiment. First, we’re including one non-scripture reading in every service, something from a novel, poem or wise sage related to that week’s scripture. Hopefully, this communicates to us and newcomers that we welcome many voices to the table, believing God works beyond our walls, inviting us to follow! Second, we’ll take a half minute or so after each sermon for personal prayer and reflection. This acknowledges that preachers never “finish” the sermon; listeners do! So with Jeremae softly playing as everyone ponders prayerfully (or waits patiently), we’ll have more freedom to believe and decide how God wants us to live.
Maybe you’ll like these experiments. Maybe not. But we’re trying, which matters. Put differently, we’re hoping to include more gifts in our worship, and give ourselves more chances to receive them well. If it works, these gifts could welcome visitors better, while empowering us to serve God’s world more. If it doesn’t work, consider this letter a worship gift receipt. We’ll stop, start over and try again! The point is, you never get a gift if you’re not opening to receiving it. Either you turn it away, or return it for yourself, and then it’s not a gift anymore, not really. Which is fine if the original gift was a ghastly, ugly sweater! But for spiritual gifts, more’s at stake; God’s kingdom come on earth. May we have courage to receive- and give- as God intends. Worshipfully, consistently, together.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
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