Our church made a big decision last Sunday. In case you missed the special congregational meeting, we agreed to partner with Yellow Brick Road Child Care Center in expanding our building and joint ministry. Understand, this vote was simply formal approval to send in a loan application. We still must a) secure a 10% down payment, and b) receive approval on the loan application. So if you’ve yet to send back your pledge or donation for the down payment, please do so and soon! (Click here for printable pledge card)
We’ve had good responses so far. We’ll still need thousands more in commitments, though, from members and friends. If you can give now, that would be great. If you’d rather pledge a certain amount over the coming months or years, that’s great too! Just let us know. As you might expect, we have several options for what’s possible beyond construction of new space. Whether, say, we can lay new carpet or paint the building this year will depend on the support we receive.
But the project’s main elements were approved in that vote- more child care space for poor kids, long-term YBR relationship, enhanced church ministry. So it’s an important time for Plymouth Creek that deserves our full attention. Essentially, we’re betting on our future in this location, and all that entails. We’re betting that the relationships we’ve built will endure and strengthen. We’re betting that those ideas about Jesus that inspire us now will evolve dynamically and remain relevant. We’re betting that we’ll form new relationships with people we don’t yet know, and whose presence will change us. Even that we’ll more actively extend Christian hospitality so as to grow for decades to come.
About that last point, we should be excited and thoughtful. As stewards of Christ’s mission to welcome the world, every church ought care about growth. Not to the exclusion of everything else, not so obsessively you neglect loving your enemy and helping the poor. Some churches- especially in our suburb- do exactly that and it makes me sick. There’s a temptation to turn “Big Church” into an idol. We’ve been looked down on for that reason, by others, and sometimes, sadly, ourselves. But through it all, I’m convinced we’ve shown that the true power of God is the power of love, which is about intimacy, smallness, the transformation of knowing and being known. Therefore, we’ve raised an incredible witness to Christ’s undying love, grand if not numerically triumphant. I’m glad for that. It shows our community what better ways are possible. They’re lucky we’re still around!
That said, we could face a numbers problem eventually. We’re a small church. We’re also not, ahem, a young church. One of you, during Sunday’s meeting, wisely counseled us to think about that, how who we have now to support our budget may not be around for the full term of this new loan. In some ways, that’s true for every church, whatever their demographics. Families move. Workers transfer. People get angry, or distracted, and leave. That’s how all churches work, so all churches must consider how they’ll grow, i.e. how they’ll include “others” into “ourselves.” It’s the pastor’s job. It’s the members’ job. It’s not easy, but it’s critical.
So, ultimately, that’s what we’re betting on: Plymouth Creek’s ongoing ability to grow and attract new folk. I believe in your ability to do that, because you’ve welcomed me. But it’ll be tough, particularly if we’re going to push those age trend lines younger. But consider this. Helping high-quality, low-cost child care expand in our neighborhood helps us grow, because it shows young families that we care about their needs. Offering seventeen child care slots to poor kids on scholarships helps us grow, because now we’re the neighborhood champion for fighting poverty. In other words, this project can be as much about attracting people to our mission as to our building. Because it changes our story, deepens it, brightens it, gives us more to tell.
But for that to work, we’ll have to tell that story…LOUDER!...then invite others to help write new, unexpected chapters. (And we’ll have to get down payment money!) Can we do it? I bet we can.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, February 27, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Turning tables…
Not too long ago, I was about to walk Fawkes the Dog when I noticed a moving van outside my gate. Turns out that the house just across our street- unoccupied for years- was finally going to have residents. I introduced myself. They seemed like a neat, young couple. But we didn’t take time to chat. They had furniture to get inside before the sun went down, and Fawkes the Dog was anxious to go.
A few days later, I walked out back to deposit something into our trash bin, when I noticed a younger couple entering the house just across the alley. It had been several months since anyone besides home renovators had gone in there. The previous rentors- who we enjoyed- moved out in fall for a smaller home. But now, it seems that someone was moving in. I said hello, confirmed they were, in fact, our new neighbors, and welcomed them to the neighborhood.
Then…it struck me. I’ve been in my home long enough now that I’m no longer the new kid on the block. Some of my neighbors, sure, have been around for many more years than we, but we’re no longer rookies. We’re part of the neighborhood. And that felt rather strange. I shook my head after telling both of these couples, “Welcome to the neighborhood,” as if I questioned whether I had permission to say that. In my mind, I feel at times like I’m still on the outside looking in. But these new neighbors couldn’t know that. They just saw someone who already lived there.
After the shock of that realization wore off, I smiled a bit. It dawned on me that I had wanted certain things from my neighborhood when I first arrived. We moved to North Minneapolis so we could know and be known by neighbors, not avoid and be avoided (which is what had happened where we lived previously). I mean, I’ll never be the most outgoing, gregarious neighbor. I’m enough of an introvert that when I’m home, I like being alone and quiet so I can gather and save energy to do my job well. Still, I wanted neighbor kids to feel comfortable asking to play with my dog when they walked by, and they do. I wanted to feel connected enough with folk who live close to ask for help if needed, and we do. I’m sure we could all do more. Still, I think we’ve got much of what we hoped for by being in this neighborhood. As new neighbors move in, though, it’s up to us to ensure that remains true, and that these new folk get the same treatment.
In other words, because I’m no longer the newest, I have to be what I want from a neighborhood in order to have the neighborhood I want. I’m no longer in position to accept it from others. I have to be it for others. There’s a parallel in that to church, amen? When you first arrive in a congregation, you hope “they” will offer and do the things you think are best about church. Over time, however, “they” becomes “we” and what you want from church is about what you bring to church, what you invest in it, what you’re willing to work for or risk, the creativity you support. When that transition happens is different for many, but it happens. Like moving in, at some point you’re no longer the “new neighbor” or “new church member.” You’re here. You are we. You are, therefore, responsible.
I think I’m going to like that about having new neighbors, but- I’ll be honest- it’s rather daunting. It’s easier to see myself in the outsider role than accept accountability for making our block the best block it can be. I mean, like church, my efforts aren’t the only that matter; I can’t do it all myself, even if I wanted to. But I bet that if I give the best I can, often enough and with a hopeful enough spirit, then I’ll live where I’ve wanted to live all along.
May we say the same of where we worship and serve God!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
A few days later, I walked out back to deposit something into our trash bin, when I noticed a younger couple entering the house just across the alley. It had been several months since anyone besides home renovators had gone in there. The previous rentors- who we enjoyed- moved out in fall for a smaller home. But now, it seems that someone was moving in. I said hello, confirmed they were, in fact, our new neighbors, and welcomed them to the neighborhood.
Then…it struck me. I’ve been in my home long enough now that I’m no longer the new kid on the block. Some of my neighbors, sure, have been around for many more years than we, but we’re no longer rookies. We’re part of the neighborhood. And that felt rather strange. I shook my head after telling both of these couples, “Welcome to the neighborhood,” as if I questioned whether I had permission to say that. In my mind, I feel at times like I’m still on the outside looking in. But these new neighbors couldn’t know that. They just saw someone who already lived there.
After the shock of that realization wore off, I smiled a bit. It dawned on me that I had wanted certain things from my neighborhood when I first arrived. We moved to North Minneapolis so we could know and be known by neighbors, not avoid and be avoided (which is what had happened where we lived previously). I mean, I’ll never be the most outgoing, gregarious neighbor. I’m enough of an introvert that when I’m home, I like being alone and quiet so I can gather and save energy to do my job well. Still, I wanted neighbor kids to feel comfortable asking to play with my dog when they walked by, and they do. I wanted to feel connected enough with folk who live close to ask for help if needed, and we do. I’m sure we could all do more. Still, I think we’ve got much of what we hoped for by being in this neighborhood. As new neighbors move in, though, it’s up to us to ensure that remains true, and that these new folk get the same treatment.
In other words, because I’m no longer the newest, I have to be what I want from a neighborhood in order to have the neighborhood I want. I’m no longer in position to accept it from others. I have to be it for others. There’s a parallel in that to church, amen? When you first arrive in a congregation, you hope “they” will offer and do the things you think are best about church. Over time, however, “they” becomes “we” and what you want from church is about what you bring to church, what you invest in it, what you’re willing to work for or risk, the creativity you support. When that transition happens is different for many, but it happens. Like moving in, at some point you’re no longer the “new neighbor” or “new church member.” You’re here. You are we. You are, therefore, responsible.
I think I’m going to like that about having new neighbors, but- I’ll be honest- it’s rather daunting. It’s easier to see myself in the outsider role than accept accountability for making our block the best block it can be. I mean, like church, my efforts aren’t the only that matter; I can’t do it all myself, even if I wanted to. But I bet that if I give the best I can, often enough and with a hopeful enough spirit, then I’ll live where I’ve wanted to live all along.
May we say the same of where we worship and serve God!
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Growing Stronger
Dear Plymouth Creek Members and Friends,
God’s blessings to you, always! It’s a cold time of year, but exciting time in the life of this church. We’re writing today to share why we believe that, and ask for your support.
To begin, please plan to attend a special congregational meeting after church on Sunday, February 22nd. We have an important issue to discuss and vote to take. The rest of this letter is our attempt to explain what we’ll consider together.
Perhaps you recall that over three years ago, we held our first capital campaign in awhile. The parking lot was a mess. We needed new sanctuary windows. None of this was the fun stuff of church, but it mattered. You responded by pledging over $90,000 to be paid by December 2015, nearly all of which has been collected so far. Thank you, and well done!
But even then, we knew more work remained to strengthen our church and its facilities. Most especially, we understood we needed to make decisions about the child care center- Yellow Brick Road- that resides in our building. 1Their rent represents over 20% of our budget, and they do high quality work. So it’s an important ministry partnership to maintain! Nevertheless, their 45+ kids running daily through our hallways, bathrooms and fellowship space cause significant building stress. That, we knew, was our number one long-term challenge to solve.
Besides, with both of our growth, we’d been increasingly feeling pressed for space. So early last year, the Board agreed to engage YBR in conversation about expanding our building together. Our upcoming meeting will outline the plan we’ve created. Here’s the short version:
11 new or renovated rooms and bathrooms, built onto the building’s west wing.
Dedicated child care space that removes YBR’s operations from our main centers of activity, while fully usable on evenings and weekends for enhanced church ministry.
Further upgrades to church facilities- kitchen, windows, AC throughout the building.
17 new YBR slots created for kids from low-income families on scholarships.
By the way, that last point is a really big deal! After all, much research shows that few programs prove as effective in fighting generational poverty as investing in quality preschool for disadvantaged children. The return on investment is at least 9:1 for society, through lower crime rates, increased college graduation, and more. In other words, if low-income kids get scholarships (valued around $14,000/year), and if quality centers like YBR make space, their life trajectory changes. They don’t just beat the odds; they change them.
With help from IOCP’s Caring for Kids Initiative, we can find local kids who need quality care and scholarships to fund it. YBR is committed to welcoming up to 17, and through that becoming a local leader in quality, low-cost child care that lifts kids out of poverty. If all slots are filled, that represents $238,000 annually invested in a better community, simply by opening our space. Plus, the expansion would allow YBR to pay the full mortgage increase, covering this construction. And we’d sign a 20-year lease, stabilizing their impact on our budget.
That’s the vision: changed lives for low-income neighbors, a stronger church fiscal outlook, enhanced growth and service opportunities, a more attractive, longer-lasting facility.
We still need to apply to Church Extension for financing, with whom we’ve had good conversation so far. That’s another reason we write. As mentioned, YBR will pay the ongoing financing costs through increased rent. But for any loan, Church Extension requires a 10% down payment on the total project. We’ve just finalized building design and bids. Our builders’ estimate is $550,000. Therefore, we’ll need $50-60,000 cash on-hand in order to apply.
That may sound like a lot for our church, especially since we’ll need to apply soon to be ready for a new school year in September! YBR will pick up some of the down payment, but they’ve been paying the design costs so far- $15,000 and counting. So the question is whether we can raise enough money now to present a viable application…
Another step in that process, by the way, is congregational approval, and we’ll vote on February 22nd (all current members are eligible voters; you can vote by proxy if you’re away). We’ll have drawings, 3-D renderings and more pricing details available for your consideration. But we also know the funding question will be on your minds. We’re confident that with YBR’s stable history, business plan and growing demand, we’ll be able to make the payments. What we don’t yet have are commitments from Plymouth Creek members and friends to cover the down payment.
So we’re asking today- Will you give generously to make this vision possible?
Click here for a pledge card that you can print or pick one up at church. (To print our the pledge card, Click on "Printable Version" found at the bottom right of your screen and then print from your browser: Menu - Print or Ctrl + P) Given the short window for 2015 construction, immediate cash, check or stock transfers will help most. But we’re also aware some budgets may need more time to fully contribute what you’d like. Please simply let us know before February 22nd what you can give, and how or when you intend to do so. We’ll make it work. Forgive the urgency, but in advance, Thank You.
Because we feel poised to write Plymouth Creek’s next remarkable chapter, by opening more room to grow and serve! Like other new ventures that have arisen in our midst the past 35+ years, this one will be an adventure in faith, trusting God’s guidance and provision. Indeed, we believe that with your, YBR’s and God’s help, we’ll brighten the light shining from our church, while making a huge dent in the poverty increasing around us. In short, we’ll expand Christ’s Table broader and bolder that any would expect possible from our small, intimate church. Well, any but us. And God, who bet it all on our future thriving. And still does.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
God’s blessings to you, always! It’s a cold time of year, but exciting time in the life of this church. We’re writing today to share why we believe that, and ask for your support.
To begin, please plan to attend a special congregational meeting after church on Sunday, February 22nd. We have an important issue to discuss and vote to take. The rest of this letter is our attempt to explain what we’ll consider together.
Perhaps you recall that over three years ago, we held our first capital campaign in awhile. The parking lot was a mess. We needed new sanctuary windows. None of this was the fun stuff of church, but it mattered. You responded by pledging over $90,000 to be paid by December 2015, nearly all of which has been collected so far. Thank you, and well done!
But even then, we knew more work remained to strengthen our church and its facilities. Most especially, we understood we needed to make decisions about the child care center- Yellow Brick Road- that resides in our building. 1Their rent represents over 20% of our budget, and they do high quality work. So it’s an important ministry partnership to maintain! Nevertheless, their 45+ kids running daily through our hallways, bathrooms and fellowship space cause significant building stress. That, we knew, was our number one long-term challenge to solve.
Besides, with both of our growth, we’d been increasingly feeling pressed for space. So early last year, the Board agreed to engage YBR in conversation about expanding our building together. Our upcoming meeting will outline the plan we’ve created. Here’s the short version:
11 new or renovated rooms and bathrooms, built onto the building’s west wing.
Dedicated child care space that removes YBR’s operations from our main centers of activity, while fully usable on evenings and weekends for enhanced church ministry.
Further upgrades to church facilities- kitchen, windows, AC throughout the building.
17 new YBR slots created for kids from low-income families on scholarships.
By the way, that last point is a really big deal! After all, much research shows that few programs prove as effective in fighting generational poverty as investing in quality preschool for disadvantaged children. The return on investment is at least 9:1 for society, through lower crime rates, increased college graduation, and more. In other words, if low-income kids get scholarships (valued around $14,000/year), and if quality centers like YBR make space, their life trajectory changes. They don’t just beat the odds; they change them.
With help from IOCP’s Caring for Kids Initiative, we can find local kids who need quality care and scholarships to fund it. YBR is committed to welcoming up to 17, and through that becoming a local leader in quality, low-cost child care that lifts kids out of poverty. If all slots are filled, that represents $238,000 annually invested in a better community, simply by opening our space. Plus, the expansion would allow YBR to pay the full mortgage increase, covering this construction. And we’d sign a 20-year lease, stabilizing their impact on our budget.
That’s the vision: changed lives for low-income neighbors, a stronger church fiscal outlook, enhanced growth and service opportunities, a more attractive, longer-lasting facility.
We still need to apply to Church Extension for financing, with whom we’ve had good conversation so far. That’s another reason we write. As mentioned, YBR will pay the ongoing financing costs through increased rent. But for any loan, Church Extension requires a 10% down payment on the total project. We’ve just finalized building design and bids. Our builders’ estimate is $550,000. Therefore, we’ll need $50-60,000 cash on-hand in order to apply.
That may sound like a lot for our church, especially since we’ll need to apply soon to be ready for a new school year in September! YBR will pick up some of the down payment, but they’ve been paying the design costs so far- $15,000 and counting. So the question is whether we can raise enough money now to present a viable application…
Another step in that process, by the way, is congregational approval, and we’ll vote on February 22nd (all current members are eligible voters; you can vote by proxy if you’re away). We’ll have drawings, 3-D renderings and more pricing details available for your consideration. But we also know the funding question will be on your minds. We’re confident that with YBR’s stable history, business plan and growing demand, we’ll be able to make the payments. What we don’t yet have are commitments from Plymouth Creek members and friends to cover the down payment.
So we’re asking today- Will you give generously to make this vision possible?
Click here for a pledge card that you can print or pick one up at church. (To print our the pledge card, Click on "Printable Version" found at the bottom right of your screen and then print from your browser: Menu - Print or Ctrl + P) Given the short window for 2015 construction, immediate cash, check or stock transfers will help most. But we’re also aware some budgets may need more time to fully contribute what you’d like. Please simply let us know before February 22nd what you can give, and how or when you intend to do so. We’ll make it work. Forgive the urgency, but in advance, Thank You.
Because we feel poised to write Plymouth Creek’s next remarkable chapter, by opening more room to grow and serve! Like other new ventures that have arisen in our midst the past 35+ years, this one will be an adventure in faith, trusting God’s guidance and provision. Indeed, we believe that with your, YBR’s and God’s help, we’ll brighten the light shining from our church, while making a huge dent in the poverty increasing around us. In short, we’ll expand Christ’s Table broader and bolder that any would expect possible from our small, intimate church. Well, any but us. And God, who bet it all on our future thriving. And still does.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Friday, February 6, 2015
Hungry,
I’ve represented Disciples on the Greater Minneapolis Council of Churches’ board for years, and believe deeply in their work. You may know that GMCC runs a March campaign- Minnesota FoodShare- that annually raises over 50% of the food and funds used by Minnesota’s 300+ foodshelves. It’s a huge deal! This year, they published a Lenten daily devotional called Room at the Banquet written by supporters, including one devotion by me. They also invited me to write the book’s introduction. I was honored, and thought you might want to read it. I’ve copied it below. Also, if you want a copy of the whole book, ask. We have 25 available for free.
Lent and hunger belong together; always have, always will. Without understanding or experiencing something of hunger, you miss out on Lent. That connection begins with Christian tradition and scripture. We’ve long linked Lent to the story of Jesus in the wilderness, Christ enduring forty days of fasting just prior to his public ministry beginning. His abstention becomes a template for our own practice. He prepared his spirit by testing his body with hunger, and so might we. Different churches do it differently, but all encourage Lent observers to build more hunger into their lives for a season. Some abstain from red meat on Fridays. Others, similar to our Muslim friends, refrain from eating during sunlight. Many open the practice to personal choice, saying, “We won’t prescribe what to give up. Just give up something.” The subsequent ache acts as a metaphor for our needing to sacrifice to grow spiritually.
As such, the hunger of Lent is more than bodily abstention. What about spiritual hunger too? After all, Jesus did more than fast in the wilderness. Luke and Matthew claim he was tempted, tested, and confronted with spiritual struggle, augmenting his rumbling tummy. Many Christian churches incorporate this facet into their Lenten practices. Some customs are stark and beautiful. In the Episcopal church of my youth, we stopped uttering “Hallelujah” during worship. For us children (and probably adults too), avoiding that lovely, life-giving word was challenging. But when Easter finally arrived, “Hallelujah” erupted from our tongues like champagne bubbles bursting at New Year’s midnight. Depriving ourselves of that praise for six weeks helped us hunger for it, and value it more. Some Christians cover crosses, or icons, with fabric to solemnify their Lenten sanctuaries, to intensify their souls’ hunger for things divine by veiling beauty, for a time.
How very right are those practices, amen?! They remind us that we’re created to hunger for God, to desire God’s presence, to seek God’s ways. We may forget that hunger sometimes, deny it, avoid it, but it abides within us and is true. So when we arrive again at Lent, we can commit again to hunger - or we’ll pray more, or give more to charity, or do something intentional- in order to nurture within us again this primordial hunger for goodness and God.
But this Lent, we also hope you’ll remember that for some – Dear God, for way too many – hunger isn’t just a spiritual, seasonal choice, but a constant, stomach-and-soul-squeezing reality. These children and adults don’t refrain from certain foods; they can’t find enough. So this Lenten devotional includes that struggle too. Because, while we are certainly created to hunger for God’s goodness, we’re also created to hunger for our neighbors’ well-being. Every neighbor. And especially those whose well-being is constantly threatened. Call it charity, call it justice. I call it being Christian. Therefore, I need that issue included in my Lenten devotions.
For isn’t others’ hunger also part of the original Lent story? Jesus fasted, and was tempted, then burst from the wilderness to proclaim God’s Kingdom come on earth, that there’s room at the banqueting table for all. May your hunger for that also deepen this season, as you use the scriptures and writings in the pages that follow to help guide your prayers and meditations. Notice that each week includes a set of action suggestions, that we might be doers of the words of grace we hear.
Or rather…of the words of grace we hunger for. On behalf of our spirits. On behalf of our neighbors’ budgets and pantries. Then we won’t be living by bread alone, but by the very satisfying words of God, the deeply nourishing compassion of the Spirit, the fully fulfilling grace of Jesus, our guide, our model, our companion, our redeemer.
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Shane Isner
Plymouth Creek Christian Church
Read more!
Lent and hunger belong together; always have, always will. Without understanding or experiencing something of hunger, you miss out on Lent. That connection begins with Christian tradition and scripture. We’ve long linked Lent to the story of Jesus in the wilderness, Christ enduring forty days of fasting just prior to his public ministry beginning. His abstention becomes a template for our own practice. He prepared his spirit by testing his body with hunger, and so might we. Different churches do it differently, but all encourage Lent observers to build more hunger into their lives for a season. Some abstain from red meat on Fridays. Others, similar to our Muslim friends, refrain from eating during sunlight. Many open the practice to personal choice, saying, “We won’t prescribe what to give up. Just give up something.” The subsequent ache acts as a metaphor for our needing to sacrifice to grow spiritually.
As such, the hunger of Lent is more than bodily abstention. What about spiritual hunger too? After all, Jesus did more than fast in the wilderness. Luke and Matthew claim he was tempted, tested, and confronted with spiritual struggle, augmenting his rumbling tummy. Many Christian churches incorporate this facet into their Lenten practices. Some customs are stark and beautiful. In the Episcopal church of my youth, we stopped uttering “Hallelujah” during worship. For us children (and probably adults too), avoiding that lovely, life-giving word was challenging. But when Easter finally arrived, “Hallelujah” erupted from our tongues like champagne bubbles bursting at New Year’s midnight. Depriving ourselves of that praise for six weeks helped us hunger for it, and value it more. Some Christians cover crosses, or icons, with fabric to solemnify their Lenten sanctuaries, to intensify their souls’ hunger for things divine by veiling beauty, for a time.
How very right are those practices, amen?! They remind us that we’re created to hunger for God, to desire God’s presence, to seek God’s ways. We may forget that hunger sometimes, deny it, avoid it, but it abides within us and is true. So when we arrive again at Lent, we can commit again to hunger - or we’ll pray more, or give more to charity, or do something intentional- in order to nurture within us again this primordial hunger for goodness and God.
But this Lent, we also hope you’ll remember that for some – Dear God, for way too many – hunger isn’t just a spiritual, seasonal choice, but a constant, stomach-and-soul-squeezing reality. These children and adults don’t refrain from certain foods; they can’t find enough. So this Lenten devotional includes that struggle too. Because, while we are certainly created to hunger for God’s goodness, we’re also created to hunger for our neighbors’ well-being. Every neighbor. And especially those whose well-being is constantly threatened. Call it charity, call it justice. I call it being Christian. Therefore, I need that issue included in my Lenten devotions.
For isn’t others’ hunger also part of the original Lent story? Jesus fasted, and was tempted, then burst from the wilderness to proclaim God’s Kingdom come on earth, that there’s room at the banqueting table for all. May your hunger for that also deepen this season, as you use the scriptures and writings in the pages that follow to help guide your prayers and meditations. Notice that each week includes a set of action suggestions, that we might be doers of the words of grace we hear.
Or rather…of the words of grace we hunger for. On behalf of our spirits. On behalf of our neighbors’ budgets and pantries. Then we won’t be living by bread alone, but by the very satisfying words of God, the deeply nourishing compassion of the Spirit, the fully fulfilling grace of Jesus, our guide, our model, our companion, our redeemer.
Grace and Peace,
Rev. Shane Isner
Plymouth Creek Christian Church
Read more!
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Glory details…
Our annual church budget is about $145,000; not huge, but given our size, it’s not tiny either. Together, we make more happen than any observer would likely expect! But supposed we more than doubled that amount, and not simply it to pay more bills, but to change the lives of neighbors in need? Plus, it strengthened our budget too?
I’m referring, of course, to the building project I wrote about last week. I mentioned that we’re approaching a decision point, following meetings with contractors. Some of you wanted further details before a congregational meeting. That seemed sensible. So here’s more, with final details to come.
First, the expansion’s scope. Basically, we’re looking at 8 or so additional rooms- some new construction attached to the west wing, some renovation of that space. Everything will be “dual use,” meaning what’s used by the child care center during business hours is accessible to church programming after. Plus, our kitchen will be renovated, probably expanded.
Consider what that allows… No longer are kids and youth crowded out or crammed into hallways. No longer are adults battling for enough space for classes or meetings. No longer are ministry ideas postponed due to no room. Instead, we’d have sufficient space for better activities now, plus significant room for development. Also, we’d have a dedicated fellowship hall again, a better kitchen, enhanced welcoming and gathering areas. Music ministry space would enlarge, moving closer to the sanctuary. In other words, we’d finally have room to grow.
So would Yellow Brick Road child care, which brings us to the project’s financing. We received a proposal last Monday estimating $784,000. We’re glad for hard numbers, finally! They’re also larger than we wanted, so we’ve asked the builders to cut costs, while our and YBR leadership explore further savings ideas. Ultimately, we think it’s possible to get to $500,000-$550,000. Plus, those numbers represent more than new space for kids and programing. They also achieve several long-discussed church goals.
For instance, heating and cooling would be extended throughout the building, meaning increased energy efficiency, plus AC in the sanctuary and fellowship hall (finally!). We’d tackle other deferred maintenance, like kitchen cleaning/updating and replacing deteriorating windows. We’d solve the serious problem of how YBR’s operations accelerates depreciation and unsightliness in our hospitality centers and bathrooms. Some issues would remain, but we’d make significant progress.
To pay for it, we’d apply to Church Extension, our current loan holder. Assuming they back the project, and once it’s complete, we’d collect increased rent from YBR to cover the increased mortgage. We’d sign a 20-year lease so we both have long-term security and commitment, which would carry us beyond the 15-year repayment period. Also, current YBR contributions to our budget would continue, stabilizing that essential income for decades. Finally, to afford their portion, YBR will open 17 new spaces, hopefully all given to kids from low-income families on IOCP and county scholarships. Those scholarships represent at least $10,000 annually invested in a struggling family’s future. So it’s like our budget more than doubles in perpetuity, solely for outreach purposes, because we’re willing to risk opening our building to young families surrounded by service and love.
Please know that one possible challenge will be securing the 10% down payment Church Extension requires. We’ve agreed to provide at least half, considering how much benefit we’ll receive. Because YBR has paid architect fees thus far (over $10,000), we’re looking at needing $30,000-$50,000 cash-on-hand to secure loan approval. That may seem like a lot to come up with, and soon. Can we do it? It could mean repurposing some funds collected for previous facility improvements. As well, we may need new pledges and donations from Plymouth Creekers and friends. Will you help with that? It’s a big ask, I know. But I suspect that the more we ponder the stunning impact of what could be, the more we’re willing to give to make it happen.
After all, there’s glory in these details. We’d have a church that literally screamed, “We care about families! Bring yours here! Let’s grow together!” We’d worship, learn and fellowship in more attractive, comfortable places. We’d have more energy and capacity for reaching out, and a more stable budget and facility outlook. Plus, we’d literally change the odds for many families and kids needing help to beat bad odds. And that’s worth risking for. We built this church, after all, for something enormous: Ushering in God’s Kingdom among us. With your help, we can take a huge step on that journey.
Please let me know your concerns or hopes, and any financial support you’d like to provide.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
I’m referring, of course, to the building project I wrote about last week. I mentioned that we’re approaching a decision point, following meetings with contractors. Some of you wanted further details before a congregational meeting. That seemed sensible. So here’s more, with final details to come.
First, the expansion’s scope. Basically, we’re looking at 8 or so additional rooms- some new construction attached to the west wing, some renovation of that space. Everything will be “dual use,” meaning what’s used by the child care center during business hours is accessible to church programming after. Plus, our kitchen will be renovated, probably expanded.
Consider what that allows… No longer are kids and youth crowded out or crammed into hallways. No longer are adults battling for enough space for classes or meetings. No longer are ministry ideas postponed due to no room. Instead, we’d have sufficient space for better activities now, plus significant room for development. Also, we’d have a dedicated fellowship hall again, a better kitchen, enhanced welcoming and gathering areas. Music ministry space would enlarge, moving closer to the sanctuary. In other words, we’d finally have room to grow.
So would Yellow Brick Road child care, which brings us to the project’s financing. We received a proposal last Monday estimating $784,000. We’re glad for hard numbers, finally! They’re also larger than we wanted, so we’ve asked the builders to cut costs, while our and YBR leadership explore further savings ideas. Ultimately, we think it’s possible to get to $500,000-$550,000. Plus, those numbers represent more than new space for kids and programing. They also achieve several long-discussed church goals.
For instance, heating and cooling would be extended throughout the building, meaning increased energy efficiency, plus AC in the sanctuary and fellowship hall (finally!). We’d tackle other deferred maintenance, like kitchen cleaning/updating and replacing deteriorating windows. We’d solve the serious problem of how YBR’s operations accelerates depreciation and unsightliness in our hospitality centers and bathrooms. Some issues would remain, but we’d make significant progress.
To pay for it, we’d apply to Church Extension, our current loan holder. Assuming they back the project, and once it’s complete, we’d collect increased rent from YBR to cover the increased mortgage. We’d sign a 20-year lease so we both have long-term security and commitment, which would carry us beyond the 15-year repayment period. Also, current YBR contributions to our budget would continue, stabilizing that essential income for decades. Finally, to afford their portion, YBR will open 17 new spaces, hopefully all given to kids from low-income families on IOCP and county scholarships. Those scholarships represent at least $10,000 annually invested in a struggling family’s future. So it’s like our budget more than doubles in perpetuity, solely for outreach purposes, because we’re willing to risk opening our building to young families surrounded by service and love.
Please know that one possible challenge will be securing the 10% down payment Church Extension requires. We’ve agreed to provide at least half, considering how much benefit we’ll receive. Because YBR has paid architect fees thus far (over $10,000), we’re looking at needing $30,000-$50,000 cash-on-hand to secure loan approval. That may seem like a lot to come up with, and soon. Can we do it? It could mean repurposing some funds collected for previous facility improvements. As well, we may need new pledges and donations from Plymouth Creekers and friends. Will you help with that? It’s a big ask, I know. But I suspect that the more we ponder the stunning impact of what could be, the more we’re willing to give to make it happen.
After all, there’s glory in these details. We’d have a church that literally screamed, “We care about families! Bring yours here! Let’s grow together!” We’d worship, learn and fellowship in more attractive, comfortable places. We’d have more energy and capacity for reaching out, and a more stable budget and facility outlook. Plus, we’d literally change the odds for many families and kids needing help to beat bad odds. And that’s worth risking for. We built this church, after all, for something enormous: Ushering in God’s Kingdom among us. With your help, we can take a huge step on that journey.
Please let me know your concerns or hopes, and any financial support you’d like to provide.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Making space…
Several weeks back, our sanctuary and hallways were packed with young kids running and playing, while parents tried desperately to corral them. I found this moment wonderful, knowing that these kids felt safe to be joyful and glad, curious and bouncy. I’ve been to churches where kids sit scared in the corner, silent. That makes me sad. By contrast, I’m uplifted by a faith community whose commitment to Christ’s radical hospitality is so pronounced they make space for tomorrow’s leaders to grow freely, surrounded by love.
And that’s what I observed. As you might suspect, this wasn’t a Sunday morning. Our church has few families with young kids, currently. Instead, it was a Monday night when our child care center partner hosted a fundraiser with its families and friends. So they (carefully!) pushed aside the sanctuary’s chairs, put up our round tables, set up our longer tables in the hallways, on which they arranged baskets for a silent auction. Their parents brought food for a dinner potluck. From 4:30-6:30, they ate and mingled, and raised money. I laughed because our Board met that night, and the only space we could find was in the choir room! All was back to normal by our meeting’s end.
Few things could better highlight why some of our leadership has been working on something for nearly a year. We’ve talked about this project some over that time, but since a culmination nears, I figured an update’s in order. I’m referring, as you’ve surely guessed, to the building expansion we’re exploring with Yellow Brick Road.
Basically, this involves constructing more space for the church and child care to expand operations. YBR will offer up to 17 additional slots to kids from poor families, scholarshipped through state/county funds and IOCP. Remember that research increasingly suggests that high quality child care for poor kids is the most reliable investment society can make to reduce generational poverty. So we’d help accomplish that for many neighbors in need. Plus, we’d eliminate the “not enough space” problem that presently limits our ministry options. The fellowship hall would re-open, as would other rooms. We could shift energy from setting up and tearing down, to welcoming and serving others. The funding mechanism would be a 20-year lease with YBR, locking in that relationship and its financial support for our budget for the long-term, while an increase in their rent covered construction costs.
Why I’m rehashing that now is because we’ve finally transitioned from dream to actual plan. In recent weeks, our design firm has presented, then updated, architectural drawings in conversation with YBR and church leadership. We’ve shared those with a general contractor, who is currently pulling together real cost estimates. Once those are finalized, it’ll be time for the Board and congregation to consider, and hopefully approve, a loan application. You’ll receive computer-drawn 3-D images, further financial details and more at a soon-to-be scheduled congregational meeting.
Or you can talk with me, Tom Jarvi, Martha Francis or any Board member for further information. I’d gladly discuss this in great detail, because it’s a big decision about our church’s future- how we’ll get there, what it will be. We know that future has challenges. We’re not a big congregation, nor the youngest, and sometimes it feels we have little room to maneuver. Yet we’ve always given and done more than any outside observer would have right to expect! That’s because we’re gifted by God, and called to share those gifts, those values with others. So the question, for me, has become- Will we bet on our continued ability to fulfill that calling, or worry it’s too much?
You know my answer: I bet on us, and God. It’s why I’ve worked hard on this project, and believe in what it will mean. Greater budget stability, increased community visibility, enhanced ministry capacity, grander commitment to kids and the poor. Or, put simply, more space for God to work with and through us to accomplish God’s purpose and dreams. Which is why we do church, amen?! Not just to sustain a building, or gather weekly with friends, but to follow Jesus on an ever-evolving, forever-uplifting adventure we call…Grace.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
And that’s what I observed. As you might suspect, this wasn’t a Sunday morning. Our church has few families with young kids, currently. Instead, it was a Monday night when our child care center partner hosted a fundraiser with its families and friends. So they (carefully!) pushed aside the sanctuary’s chairs, put up our round tables, set up our longer tables in the hallways, on which they arranged baskets for a silent auction. Their parents brought food for a dinner potluck. From 4:30-6:30, they ate and mingled, and raised money. I laughed because our Board met that night, and the only space we could find was in the choir room! All was back to normal by our meeting’s end.
Few things could better highlight why some of our leadership has been working on something for nearly a year. We’ve talked about this project some over that time, but since a culmination nears, I figured an update’s in order. I’m referring, as you’ve surely guessed, to the building expansion we’re exploring with Yellow Brick Road.
Basically, this involves constructing more space for the church and child care to expand operations. YBR will offer up to 17 additional slots to kids from poor families, scholarshipped through state/county funds and IOCP. Remember that research increasingly suggests that high quality child care for poor kids is the most reliable investment society can make to reduce generational poverty. So we’d help accomplish that for many neighbors in need. Plus, we’d eliminate the “not enough space” problem that presently limits our ministry options. The fellowship hall would re-open, as would other rooms. We could shift energy from setting up and tearing down, to welcoming and serving others. The funding mechanism would be a 20-year lease with YBR, locking in that relationship and its financial support for our budget for the long-term, while an increase in their rent covered construction costs.
Why I’m rehashing that now is because we’ve finally transitioned from dream to actual plan. In recent weeks, our design firm has presented, then updated, architectural drawings in conversation with YBR and church leadership. We’ve shared those with a general contractor, who is currently pulling together real cost estimates. Once those are finalized, it’ll be time for the Board and congregation to consider, and hopefully approve, a loan application. You’ll receive computer-drawn 3-D images, further financial details and more at a soon-to-be scheduled congregational meeting.
Or you can talk with me, Tom Jarvi, Martha Francis or any Board member for further information. I’d gladly discuss this in great detail, because it’s a big decision about our church’s future- how we’ll get there, what it will be. We know that future has challenges. We’re not a big congregation, nor the youngest, and sometimes it feels we have little room to maneuver. Yet we’ve always given and done more than any outside observer would have right to expect! That’s because we’re gifted by God, and called to share those gifts, those values with others. So the question, for me, has become- Will we bet on our continued ability to fulfill that calling, or worry it’s too much?
You know my answer: I bet on us, and God. It’s why I’ve worked hard on this project, and believe in what it will mean. Greater budget stability, increased community visibility, enhanced ministry capacity, grander commitment to kids and the poor. Or, put simply, more space for God to work with and through us to accomplish God’s purpose and dreams. Which is why we do church, amen?! Not just to sustain a building, or gather weekly with friends, but to follow Jesus on an ever-evolving, forever-uplifting adventure we call…Grace.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
What’s weird…
I recently had another of those now-frequent foster parenting learning moments. It occurred because, in our home, active use of one’s imagination is an encouraged pursuit. By which I mean that it’s frequent, and expected, for our six year-old to ask, just after waking, questions like, “What if you and I were cheetahs, and we raced a tiger? Who would win?” The answer is always, always, “You win!”
From there, the imaginative conversation continues through dressing time, breakfast, teeth-brushing. Topics are sometimes familiar, like sharks or Ninja Turtles. Other times, we explore outlandish realms of his imagination. And he’s always hoping for a reaction, which presents a challenge. Because I’m not always clear whether he’s wanting, say, affirmation, as in, “Absolutely! It’d be awesome if we had race car tires for feet, obviously!” Or maybe he’s going for mutual dismissal, as in, “I wouldn’t want race car tires for feet either!” Or something entirely different. In other words, his intention can be initially ambiguous and, therefore, fraught with danger. If I reject something he wanted me to affirm, the joy we’ve been sharing diminishes, and the conversation ends.
So how to respond? Well, I recently hit on an idea of which I’ve become inordinately proud. You see, for a while I’d sometimes react to his wild imaginings with, “That’s weird!” It then occurred to me that ‘weird’ isn’t a value-neutral description, right? So-called ‘weird’ people are shunned people in our culture, weird ideas considered bad ideas. We’re intolerant of (whatever we define as) weird.
But the goal of these conversations isn’t to instill in him a culturally constrained sense of what’s weird and what isn’t. Honestly, I’m skeptical of our collective rejection of ‘weirdness’. That’s often us simply being judgmental. Instead, I want him to feel free to explore his imaginings and hopes, his joys and flights of fantasy. That will help him be more creative, more confident, more open, more compassionate to others and himself. So there are times in our chats when he wants me to say, “that’s weird,” with him. And I do. And we laugh. But other times, I’d hurt his feelings if I mistakenly called ‘weird’ something he’s discussing because he thinks it fun or interesting.
Thus, my (self-proclaimed) brilliant idea- I decided that, from now on, whenever the little guy shares something wild and crazy, instead of reacting with “that’s weird,” I’ll try instead to say, “that’s unexpected.” I know, this insight probably won’t change your life, and has maybe already occurred to you. But it’s new to me. And I wish I’d framed such issues in those terms long before I had a kid in our home. After all, in high school, we spent way too much time deciding who was or wasn’t weird (or in my case, worrying about whether others considered me so!). With that moniker came shame and isolation, lower confidence and less creativity. If, by contrast, I just thought in terms of what was expected or not, I’d probably have carried around less baggage.
And, sadly, I didn’t leave those judgmental attitudes behind in adolescence. Adults are as quick as kids and teens to isolate, to ignore, to fear, to pre-judge others they consider ‘weird.’ Is this a defense mechanism? A way to scapegoat someone so we feel less bad about ourselves? Are we so stressed about family, bills, work that we’d rather not work at understanding unexpected things? Does that sound too tiring, so we call them weird? I’m not sure which the right description is. All of the above and more? All I know is that we invest too much moral importance into whether people or things we encounter match our expectations, our pre-decided beliefs about what’s appropriate, polite, acceptable, decent. Pick your poison.
But we serve a Savior who built many relationships with folk his contemporaries thought marginal, indecent, sinful, awkward. AKA weird. Yet he went to the grave and returned to champion these unexpected ones. People like us. That wasn’t weird behavior. It was divine, amen? However unexpected, it also changed the world. For good. It should change us.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
From there, the imaginative conversation continues through dressing time, breakfast, teeth-brushing. Topics are sometimes familiar, like sharks or Ninja Turtles. Other times, we explore outlandish realms of his imagination. And he’s always hoping for a reaction, which presents a challenge. Because I’m not always clear whether he’s wanting, say, affirmation, as in, “Absolutely! It’d be awesome if we had race car tires for feet, obviously!” Or maybe he’s going for mutual dismissal, as in, “I wouldn’t want race car tires for feet either!” Or something entirely different. In other words, his intention can be initially ambiguous and, therefore, fraught with danger. If I reject something he wanted me to affirm, the joy we’ve been sharing diminishes, and the conversation ends.
So how to respond? Well, I recently hit on an idea of which I’ve become inordinately proud. You see, for a while I’d sometimes react to his wild imaginings with, “That’s weird!” It then occurred to me that ‘weird’ isn’t a value-neutral description, right? So-called ‘weird’ people are shunned people in our culture, weird ideas considered bad ideas. We’re intolerant of (whatever we define as) weird.
But the goal of these conversations isn’t to instill in him a culturally constrained sense of what’s weird and what isn’t. Honestly, I’m skeptical of our collective rejection of ‘weirdness’. That’s often us simply being judgmental. Instead, I want him to feel free to explore his imaginings and hopes, his joys and flights of fantasy. That will help him be more creative, more confident, more open, more compassionate to others and himself. So there are times in our chats when he wants me to say, “that’s weird,” with him. And I do. And we laugh. But other times, I’d hurt his feelings if I mistakenly called ‘weird’ something he’s discussing because he thinks it fun or interesting.
Thus, my (self-proclaimed) brilliant idea- I decided that, from now on, whenever the little guy shares something wild and crazy, instead of reacting with “that’s weird,” I’ll try instead to say, “that’s unexpected.” I know, this insight probably won’t change your life, and has maybe already occurred to you. But it’s new to me. And I wish I’d framed such issues in those terms long before I had a kid in our home. After all, in high school, we spent way too much time deciding who was or wasn’t weird (or in my case, worrying about whether others considered me so!). With that moniker came shame and isolation, lower confidence and less creativity. If, by contrast, I just thought in terms of what was expected or not, I’d probably have carried around less baggage.
And, sadly, I didn’t leave those judgmental attitudes behind in adolescence. Adults are as quick as kids and teens to isolate, to ignore, to fear, to pre-judge others they consider ‘weird.’ Is this a defense mechanism? A way to scapegoat someone so we feel less bad about ourselves? Are we so stressed about family, bills, work that we’d rather not work at understanding unexpected things? Does that sound too tiring, so we call them weird? I’m not sure which the right description is. All of the above and more? All I know is that we invest too much moral importance into whether people or things we encounter match our expectations, our pre-decided beliefs about what’s appropriate, polite, acceptable, decent. Pick your poison.
But we serve a Savior who built many relationships with folk his contemporaries thought marginal, indecent, sinful, awkward. AKA weird. Yet he went to the grave and returned to champion these unexpected ones. People like us. That wasn’t weird behavior. It was divine, amen? However unexpected, it also changed the world. For good. It should change us.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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