I think my least favorite emotion is despair, although arrogance could compete. It’s just that despair, of all the negative emotions at least, seems the least productive. Sadness has a purging effect. Anger holds potential power for good. Even fear can have clarifying impacts. Despair, by contrast, feels like a stubborn, unhelpful partner. It doesn’t offer much healing, inspiration or insight. It’s like crawling in a cold hole, closing your eyes and refusing to don a nearby sweater. At its worst, despair lashes out in ways that fuel a fire needing of water. Unfortunately, and this is despair’s worst quality, it’s often entirely understandable.
I’m pondering despair for several reasons this week. One is news of violent conflicts in Baltimore streets. The precipitating event was the death of a young black man in police custody. I don’t know the full details, but it sounds too depressingly familiar. As in other cases, this week, local citizens publicly protested while police stood guard. Someone lashed out violently. Violence escalated, and the word “riot” replaced “protest” in news reports.
Please pray for nonviolent protesters and police doing the dangerous work of ensuring a safer, better community.
Anyway, it made me recall a small moment I had on the first nice Saturday of Spring. I’d walked Fawkes to the local park, where many teenagers were gathered, mostly African-American. The crowd was larger than normal, but given my neighborhood, its racial makeup made sense. Also, eight police cars were driving around and into the park, which I’d never witnessed there before. The tension was palpable, bit I continued the walk, eventually turning home.
On my block, some neighbors were milling about. I chatted with one young black man, and mentioned the police at the park, saying how it surprised me. He said, “There’s always lots of police there,” and scoffed. We silently each turned toward home. Since then, I’ve wondered what he typically saw that I didn’t, what he expects that I don’t.
I won’t put words in my neighbor’s mouth, but our racial difference obviously influenced that conversation, especially our attitudes about police. Many cops patrol my neighborhood. I smile and thank them when I get the chance. I also see many of my male black neighbors draw back in caution, suspicion or fear. Researchers say that’s a rational act, given the much higher likelihood that, while simply strolling down my block, a black man my age will be detained, questioned and arrested than I will. That’s not because most police officers are intentionally biased or mean, but something’s not fully holy yet in our society, amen?
Which returns me to despair and “rioting.” Here’s something Dr. King said, “It’s not enough for me to…condemn riots…(I)ntolerable conditions that exist in our society…cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention…(A) riot is the language of the unheard.” Conditions have changed for many since King spoke, but many still struggle to eat, work, avoid prison, breathe, and to justify hope. And hope made King’s call for nonviolent change rational. Sadly, hope seems a dangerous deceit, a source of weakness for some of my neighbors, many not so different from Baltimore residents. That doesn’t make violent outbursts morally defensible, just more comprehensible.
Despair is the absence of hope, in social and personal problems. Despair sucks all light from our rooms, our spirits, our communities, inspiring self-defeating lethargy, lashing out or giving up. Fortunately, people of faith have tools to battle despair; not by ignoring it, nor submitting to it. Instead, we’re bold enough to name it, before God, as the powerful, tempting force it is. Lamentations 3:20- “My soul continually thinks of (my affliction and homelessness) and is bowed down within me.” That’s a clear declaration of despair. But never forget the following verses- “(T)his I call to mind, and I have hope. The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases. God’s mercies never come to an end.”
In other words, if we rely on our own capacities, ideas, strengths and resources, we’ll fall short, or fail each other. History teaches that lesson too tragically. Fortunately, hope needn’t rely on us to be real and effective. God’s mercy renews every morning. Great is God’s faithfulness.
Of course, that’s easy for me to say, not currently enduring the despair temptation. So I pray I’ll react to others’ pain and despair with compassion rather than judgment. May we all desire understanding. And I pray hope enters those who need it today. May they bow down in supplication, not resignation.
Amen,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, May 1, 2015
Stewardship Letter
Growing Forward,
What a momentous time in the life of our church!It seems like just a few weeks ago that you received a letter about the building expansion with Yellow Brick Road. In it, we asked the church to donate or pledge funds for a construction loan down payment. It was an audacious moment. We’re a vibrant, but small congregation. Time was short. The ask was substantial. You responded, though, allowing the church reach its $50,000 fundraising goal!
Therefore, we’ve sent in our loan application to Church Extension, confident in our building design, construction plan, and financial situation. We’re simply waiting for their consideration and (God willing!) approval so we can get the building going. Then the real work begins, amen?!
That’s why I’m writing again today. The impact this building project will have on our church and neighborhood will be substantial. Seventeen low-income families annually receiving critical child care assistance to change their kids’- and family’s- future paths and dreams! Open space in our building again- finally!- to design new ministry offerings so neighbors can meet, grow and shine with us. We’ll have opportunity to freshen up our hospitality, boost our community profile, deepen our story of helping build God’s Kingdom in our midst.
But what that takes, you surely know, is the ongoing support and financial commitment of Plymouth Creek members and friends. Together, we did something extra and special to lift the building expansion off the ground. Together, we’ll need to continue to maintain or increase our regular tithes and offerings for the church’s operating budget.
We all know that, at first glance, giving to ensure bills and salaries are paid, office materials purchased, mailing costs covered, isn’t as exciting as securing needed services for poor children. Except we also know that nothing else we take pride in here- quality music and choir, a weekly bus ministry for members and guests, a full and poised-for-expansion community garden- can transpire if the annual budget isn’t met. We do that year after year through your generous, courageous giving. And we’re on the cusp of a new chapter where growth in ministry, membership and spiritual depth is before us, if we’re prepared to seize the opportunity.
So throughout May, we’ll think together about that fundamental Christian task of stewardship. Then, we’ll ask that you turn in pledge cards on or before May 24th. The church fiscal year ends May 31. We’ll need a new budget, therefore, to vote on at the annual congregational meeting in mid-June. Building that works best if we know the amount of donations we’ll receive next year. Hence, this letter.
Will you pray about the ongoing support you can provide Plymouth Creek next year? It would be great if you can increase what you did last year. Whatever your situation, though, please fill out the form at the bottom of this letter, detach it and either put it in the offering plate soon or mail it to the church office.
And thank you for your generous commitment to this church, to what God continues to accomplish through our efforts! With your time, treasures, talents and dreams, we are growing forward in pursuit of Christ’s call for us to love and serve and shine.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Friday, April 24, 2015
Providing…
Tabitha and I bought a bike last weekend, and it was awesome. But it wasn’t us. The bike was for our foster kid. So I spent the weekend remembering my first big kid bike (i.e. one without training wheels). As I recall, Dad and I were in the garage, when he (maybe Mom was there too…) presented me with a red and black BMX. I probably squealed or jumped or otherwise expressed the bursting triumph I felt welling up because now I had…A BIKE OF MY OWN!
Dad said, “Give it a ride.” In retrospect, bad decision, Pops. I mean, it makes sense he’d do that, encourage his kid to use this new bike. But, well, let me describe my old street. Our home was at the apex of a cul-de-sac whose roadway sloped downward toward a busier street. So imagine a boy still learning to ride standing atop his (rather steep) driveway, looking down the asphalt, cul-de-sac hill, feeling barely containable joy, impatiently anticipating all the speed and glory he’d soon obtain.
Also, I didn’t yet know how the brakes worked.
That became a problem as I zoomed down my driveway, past my buddy’s house, approaching the big street I knew I wasn’t allowed to bike in. I was going fast. I needed to stop fast. So…I leaned to the side, and fell. I was wearing shorts. Then, leaving the bike behind, I ran- hopping and holding my skinned knee- back to my father, still waiting, probably struggling with both pride in his gift and worry that I’d hurt myself. I returned for the bike after several Band-Aids, and hugs.
May it be our little guy doesn’t fall so painfully soon! But he’s not worried about that; he’s just loving his very own bike. And I can’t describe the exuberant pride I feel in having provided that gift to him. It’s a great feeling, amen?! This parental joy in “providing.” That it’s a boy’s bike, of course, means this feeling is also about my childhood. Maybe I’m just reliving old memories. But more interesting than that, I think, is me experiencing one kind of giving my parents modeled for me years ago.
What are your models of giving? There’s the “provider” model that parents (hopefully) show their kids, you providing what’s needed for another’s well-being. There’s the “condescending” model of you giving to someone you deem pitiable in an attempt to highlight your supposed-magnanimity (I don’t recommend this…). And there’s more. Lots! So which do you look to for making decisions about your finances, resources, time, dreams, commitments? I’m assuming you give. We all do, in various ways. So what supplies you guidance and inspiration?
May will include our annual four-week Stewardship Campaign. We’ll ask you to consider your giving to the church for the next fiscal year (June 2015 to May 2016). On May 24, or before, we’ll ask you to turn in pledges, if you pledge. But donations to church operations aren’t the whole point. Indeed, I’m hoping you’ll use these weeks to ponder how stewardship impacts your entire life.
After all, how we use resources is a daily concern that transcends church donations, even monthly bills. At the grocery store, on-line, during tax season, we put our money where our priorities are. Therefore, we can consider these transactions as more than reasons for stress or shame, but rather as opportunities to practice and grow our devotion. That’s why I look forward to this month annually. It’s a ready-made excuse to ponder the practical side of faith.
And to frame that discussion this year, we’ll look to scripture for models of giving. We’ll find there more than one that’s useful and achievable. Hopefully, that’ll help you breathe easier, remembering there’s no one way to do it right, while offering tools and insights for growth. So join us for this practical, maybe challenging, hopefully inspiring journey in May (and invite a friend!). And until then, think about the models of giving that have inspired or helped you. If you have a chance, even, thank them for it.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
PS- Thanks Mom and Dad for helping me learn to give joyfully! Read more!
Dad said, “Give it a ride.” In retrospect, bad decision, Pops. I mean, it makes sense he’d do that, encourage his kid to use this new bike. But, well, let me describe my old street. Our home was at the apex of a cul-de-sac whose roadway sloped downward toward a busier street. So imagine a boy still learning to ride standing atop his (rather steep) driveway, looking down the asphalt, cul-de-sac hill, feeling barely containable joy, impatiently anticipating all the speed and glory he’d soon obtain.
Also, I didn’t yet know how the brakes worked.
That became a problem as I zoomed down my driveway, past my buddy’s house, approaching the big street I knew I wasn’t allowed to bike in. I was going fast. I needed to stop fast. So…I leaned to the side, and fell. I was wearing shorts. Then, leaving the bike behind, I ran- hopping and holding my skinned knee- back to my father, still waiting, probably struggling with both pride in his gift and worry that I’d hurt myself. I returned for the bike after several Band-Aids, and hugs.
May it be our little guy doesn’t fall so painfully soon! But he’s not worried about that; he’s just loving his very own bike. And I can’t describe the exuberant pride I feel in having provided that gift to him. It’s a great feeling, amen?! This parental joy in “providing.” That it’s a boy’s bike, of course, means this feeling is also about my childhood. Maybe I’m just reliving old memories. But more interesting than that, I think, is me experiencing one kind of giving my parents modeled for me years ago.
What are your models of giving? There’s the “provider” model that parents (hopefully) show their kids, you providing what’s needed for another’s well-being. There’s the “condescending” model of you giving to someone you deem pitiable in an attempt to highlight your supposed-magnanimity (I don’t recommend this…). And there’s more. Lots! So which do you look to for making decisions about your finances, resources, time, dreams, commitments? I’m assuming you give. We all do, in various ways. So what supplies you guidance and inspiration?
May will include our annual four-week Stewardship Campaign. We’ll ask you to consider your giving to the church for the next fiscal year (June 2015 to May 2016). On May 24, or before, we’ll ask you to turn in pledges, if you pledge. But donations to church operations aren’t the whole point. Indeed, I’m hoping you’ll use these weeks to ponder how stewardship impacts your entire life.
After all, how we use resources is a daily concern that transcends church donations, even monthly bills. At the grocery store, on-line, during tax season, we put our money where our priorities are. Therefore, we can consider these transactions as more than reasons for stress or shame, but rather as opportunities to practice and grow our devotion. That’s why I look forward to this month annually. It’s a ready-made excuse to ponder the practical side of faith.
And to frame that discussion this year, we’ll look to scripture for models of giving. We’ll find there more than one that’s useful and achievable. Hopefully, that’ll help you breathe easier, remembering there’s no one way to do it right, while offering tools and insights for growth. So join us for this practical, maybe challenging, hopefully inspiring journey in May (and invite a friend!). And until then, think about the models of giving that have inspired or helped you. If you have a chance, even, thank them for it.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
PS- Thanks Mom and Dad for helping me learn to give joyfully! Read more!
Friday, April 17, 2015
Little Church that Could…
It’s been awhile since my last building project update. We have news…that I’m going to call good. But I’ll be honest, it took days, nerves and hair pulling sessions to believe that!
When our congregation voted to move forward on this partnership deepening project with Yellow Brick Road childcare, we said we’d seek a loan in the $500,000-$550,000 range. We believed that feasible and achievable given the design and comments from our architectural firm. Thus, we asked for donations for the required down payment.
Guess what? We’re currently at $45,000, with a realistic path to get to achieve $50,000. Bravo! For a church our size to raise that amount in just a few weeks is amazing. Thanks be to God, and your big, generous hearts!
However, when we voted, we told you that we’d put the design to a new round of competitive bidding because we’d had to tweak it to lower costs. The architect believed that our modifications, simplifications, and willingness to simply build a shell of a new kitchen (to be completed by YBR/PCCC work over the winter/spring) was sufficient. It wasn’t. The best bid we got was $677,000.
I learned that just before Holy Week, which was then spent in frantic, sometimes heated conversation with our design firm, YBR, builders and our church’s building team. Given the project’s full costs (contractors bid, design firm, closing fees), our original plan wouldn’t work. YBR couldn’t afford the financing costs that bid required. Plus, it was well above what was said at the congregational meeting. So we conversed with the General Contractor about possible reductions. Here’s the only viable option we’ve discerned: PCCC and YBR acting as our own General Contractor.
If we did that, the architectural firm would remain engaged throughout, of course. The GC who originally bid would, for a much-reduced fee, arrange sub-contractors, design a construction schedule and be available for problem solving if(when!) issues arise. But day-to-day oversight, contacting sub-contractors, etc., would be ours. YBR’s owner has offered to do most of that, along with tapping her extensive professional and personal relationships to get reduced-cost materials/labor. I’d work with her and the city, while PCCC leaders with relevant experience would assist on oversight and communication.
Doing that gets us most of the way there. The remaining cost reductions would come from us and YBR putting “sweat equity” into the project. That means doing much finishing work ourselves- painting, flooring, demolition. The complex stuff of plumbing, framing, etc., would still be sub-contracted to professionals. Our insurance agent tells us that’s viable from a liability perspective. Indeed, he says he works with many churches who’ve done this successfully. We’re not a large church, and so couldn’t reasonably attempt that ourselves. But we’re not by ourselves. YBR, its network, even some parents would pitch in, if we also agree to do our best. Expect several fun and sweaty summer work days!
Which gets partly at why I now consider this good news. Certainly, it sounds daunting! But we’ve talked for years about building relationships with childcare families and friends. What better way to spark that than working together?! Some will paint. Others will arrange food. Some will buy carpets. Others will play with kids. But if we’re all all-in, we’ll build more than a building. We’ll build a bigger, broader, more loving and committed community.
And ultimately, that’s why any congregation should use any money, time, or sweat on building construction. Walls and finishings only facilitate the holy, wonderful work of spreading and deepening Love. I’m not saying this path lacks risk. Quite the opposite! I can’t promise we’ll do it right, on time, without hurt hands or feelings when challenges arise. That’s why church leadership seriously debated about whether to proceed. Indeed, they consider it imprudent to commit until we share with you how the plan shifted, what it’ll take to complete, and mostly, ask whether you’ll play a role.
If you can paint (or ask kids/grandkids to help!), will you? If you can’t, can we count on you to pitch in otherwise? If so, then we’ve got a full summer ahead, difficult and risky, certainly, perhaps beyond what outsiders would deem possible. But since when have we ever been otherwise than the little church that- with God’s help- could?!
Please let me and/or Donna Jarvi know your feedback A.S.A.P. And plan to attend a May 3 congregational meeting to discuss this and related issues further.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
When our congregation voted to move forward on this partnership deepening project with Yellow Brick Road childcare, we said we’d seek a loan in the $500,000-$550,000 range. We believed that feasible and achievable given the design and comments from our architectural firm. Thus, we asked for donations for the required down payment.
Guess what? We’re currently at $45,000, with a realistic path to get to achieve $50,000. Bravo! For a church our size to raise that amount in just a few weeks is amazing. Thanks be to God, and your big, generous hearts!
However, when we voted, we told you that we’d put the design to a new round of competitive bidding because we’d had to tweak it to lower costs. The architect believed that our modifications, simplifications, and willingness to simply build a shell of a new kitchen (to be completed by YBR/PCCC work over the winter/spring) was sufficient. It wasn’t. The best bid we got was $677,000.
I learned that just before Holy Week, which was then spent in frantic, sometimes heated conversation with our design firm, YBR, builders and our church’s building team. Given the project’s full costs (contractors bid, design firm, closing fees), our original plan wouldn’t work. YBR couldn’t afford the financing costs that bid required. Plus, it was well above what was said at the congregational meeting. So we conversed with the General Contractor about possible reductions. Here’s the only viable option we’ve discerned: PCCC and YBR acting as our own General Contractor.
If we did that, the architectural firm would remain engaged throughout, of course. The GC who originally bid would, for a much-reduced fee, arrange sub-contractors, design a construction schedule and be available for problem solving if(when!) issues arise. But day-to-day oversight, contacting sub-contractors, etc., would be ours. YBR’s owner has offered to do most of that, along with tapping her extensive professional and personal relationships to get reduced-cost materials/labor. I’d work with her and the city, while PCCC leaders with relevant experience would assist on oversight and communication.
Doing that gets us most of the way there. The remaining cost reductions would come from us and YBR putting “sweat equity” into the project. That means doing much finishing work ourselves- painting, flooring, demolition. The complex stuff of plumbing, framing, etc., would still be sub-contracted to professionals. Our insurance agent tells us that’s viable from a liability perspective. Indeed, he says he works with many churches who’ve done this successfully. We’re not a large church, and so couldn’t reasonably attempt that ourselves. But we’re not by ourselves. YBR, its network, even some parents would pitch in, if we also agree to do our best. Expect several fun and sweaty summer work days!
Which gets partly at why I now consider this good news. Certainly, it sounds daunting! But we’ve talked for years about building relationships with childcare families and friends. What better way to spark that than working together?! Some will paint. Others will arrange food. Some will buy carpets. Others will play with kids. But if we’re all all-in, we’ll build more than a building. We’ll build a bigger, broader, more loving and committed community.
And ultimately, that’s why any congregation should use any money, time, or sweat on building construction. Walls and finishings only facilitate the holy, wonderful work of spreading and deepening Love. I’m not saying this path lacks risk. Quite the opposite! I can’t promise we’ll do it right, on time, without hurt hands or feelings when challenges arise. That’s why church leadership seriously debated about whether to proceed. Indeed, they consider it imprudent to commit until we share with you how the plan shifted, what it’ll take to complete, and mostly, ask whether you’ll play a role.
If you can paint (or ask kids/grandkids to help!), will you? If you can’t, can we count on you to pitch in otherwise? If so, then we’ve got a full summer ahead, difficult and risky, certainly, perhaps beyond what outsiders would deem possible. But since when have we ever been otherwise than the little church that- with God’s help- could?!
Please let me and/or Donna Jarvi know your feedback A.S.A.P. And plan to attend a May 3 congregational meeting to discuss this and related issues further.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Growing…
With Lent now ended, many Christians are indulging in stuff they’ve avoided for weeks. I typically give something up (this year- Twitter), and over time have learned there’re multiple ways to do it. I mean, on one level it’s all the same: chose something to not enjoy, then eagerly await its return! But hopefully, we do that purposefully; to learn, to grow spiritually. And how we go about that is different for different folk. Still, I’ve identified three common- and reliable- methods for Lenten learning. Surely, there’s more. But I’m sharing these today because a) Lent just finished, and b) They work outside Lent. I.e. if you want to keep growth going, give these ideas a go!
1) Daily Reflection: When someone gives up, say, TV for Lent, she might insert prayer (or devotional reading, or…) into that now-empty space. Consider this “Spiritual Boot Camp.” Like certain fashionable- and effective, I’m told!- exercise regimes, this practice relies on intense effort invested over a short period for the sake of bursting out of your comfort zone and into a new normal.
I think this method works best if you’re facing a big question like, “What’s my life’s next chapter?” So you hold that question in mind and before God during your daily spiritual sessions, cumulatively gathering insight and inspiration. It’s not guaranteed to uncover an answer, but it often pushes you forward. Warning, though, like fitness boot camps, first establish a “base” level of spiritual engagement before trying. Otherwise, you’ll get strained, or too easily give up!
2) Weekly Check-in: Another option is to not force the issue, but still set aside time- e.g. during worship- to go over the week mentally. For example, maybe you gave up chocolate during Lent, and it seems strange to pray nightly about what that means. Instead, attend church and zone out during my sermons, so you can reflect about what’s transpired since you last “checked in,” asking what you did differently during times you’d otherwise eat chocolate, why you made those choices, what “aha” moments emerged because you shifted your routine. Maybe you celebrate your self-discipline when you felt the temptation to have “just one,” and didn’t. Bravo!
This approach works as a good introduction to regular spiritual activity, if it’s been awhile. It’s also helpful for getting to the next level for those without anything huge looming. Don’t add an hour-a-day of prayer. Two works fine, or read a daily Psalm, then pause regularly to discern what’s changing or changed. I like this method because it takes advantage of stuff you’re already doing (like church), requires but simple additions, and is, therefore, sustainable. After all, not every life change or growth program needs to be drastic or painful.
3) Easter/Post-Lent Wrap-up: This final option may look like the procrastinator’s method, but isn’t…necessarily. Here, you give something up and rather than fill that empty space with daily work or check-in weekly, you commit to taking stock after Easter. Like a researcher who doesn’t interrupt an experiment, but simply analyzes final data, you postpone deep reflections until the end.
This can be effective if you’re considering a spiritual change, but don’t know exactly how well it’ll work. So rather than invest $100s in yoga classes, mats, clothes and books, only to learn after session two you hate it, you commit to attending yoga just during Lent (or any six week period). Then, don’t stress about what’s next until you have those weeks of data. At that point, weigh the pluses and minuses, other alternatives, changes in ideas or health. Also, before the experiment period begins, take stock of where you’re starting from, so you can compare and contrast once you’re done without hindsight bias. If you like it, go deeper. If you don’t, try something else. If you’re uncomfortable…well, be honest about whether it’s holy discomfort or not. The point is to immerse yourself for a time and trust God will guide your path once the experiment ends.
So there you go, my Lent-inspired growth techniques. Any others we should consider? I pray your Lent was opportunity for refreshment and challenge, and that our growth is but beginning!
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
1) Daily Reflection: When someone gives up, say, TV for Lent, she might insert prayer (or devotional reading, or…) into that now-empty space. Consider this “Spiritual Boot Camp.” Like certain fashionable- and effective, I’m told!- exercise regimes, this practice relies on intense effort invested over a short period for the sake of bursting out of your comfort zone and into a new normal.
I think this method works best if you’re facing a big question like, “What’s my life’s next chapter?” So you hold that question in mind and before God during your daily spiritual sessions, cumulatively gathering insight and inspiration. It’s not guaranteed to uncover an answer, but it often pushes you forward. Warning, though, like fitness boot camps, first establish a “base” level of spiritual engagement before trying. Otherwise, you’ll get strained, or too easily give up!
2) Weekly Check-in: Another option is to not force the issue, but still set aside time- e.g. during worship- to go over the week mentally. For example, maybe you gave up chocolate during Lent, and it seems strange to pray nightly about what that means. Instead, attend church and zone out during my sermons, so you can reflect about what’s transpired since you last “checked in,” asking what you did differently during times you’d otherwise eat chocolate, why you made those choices, what “aha” moments emerged because you shifted your routine. Maybe you celebrate your self-discipline when you felt the temptation to have “just one,” and didn’t. Bravo!
This approach works as a good introduction to regular spiritual activity, if it’s been awhile. It’s also helpful for getting to the next level for those without anything huge looming. Don’t add an hour-a-day of prayer. Two works fine, or read a daily Psalm, then pause regularly to discern what’s changing or changed. I like this method because it takes advantage of stuff you’re already doing (like church), requires but simple additions, and is, therefore, sustainable. After all, not every life change or growth program needs to be drastic or painful.
3) Easter/Post-Lent Wrap-up: This final option may look like the procrastinator’s method, but isn’t…necessarily. Here, you give something up and rather than fill that empty space with daily work or check-in weekly, you commit to taking stock after Easter. Like a researcher who doesn’t interrupt an experiment, but simply analyzes final data, you postpone deep reflections until the end.
This can be effective if you’re considering a spiritual change, but don’t know exactly how well it’ll work. So rather than invest $100s in yoga classes, mats, clothes and books, only to learn after session two you hate it, you commit to attending yoga just during Lent (or any six week period). Then, don’t stress about what’s next until you have those weeks of data. At that point, weigh the pluses and minuses, other alternatives, changes in ideas or health. Also, before the experiment period begins, take stock of where you’re starting from, so you can compare and contrast once you’re done without hindsight bias. If you like it, go deeper. If you don’t, try something else. If you’re uncomfortable…well, be honest about whether it’s holy discomfort or not. The point is to immerse yourself for a time and trust God will guide your path once the experiment ends.
So there you go, my Lent-inspired growth techniques. Any others we should consider? I pray your Lent was opportunity for refreshment and challenge, and that our growth is but beginning!
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Full table…
I joined the Disciples of Christ denomination during seminary. I had begun pastoral training as a free-agent Protestant – and yes, that’s odd! – but I found a spiritual home when I discovered Disciples.
Ironically, the main reason for that choice made news recently. So did Disciples. You see, I joined, basically, because of…Religious Freedom.
First, a Disciples History lesson. We’re an American-grown religious movement. We started in the early 1800s, believing deeply in Unity. Our reasoning was simple. Back then, there seemed an ever-increasing number of splintering churches, each claiming they had God’s Ultimate Truth, while others didn’t. So they’d leave. This constant debate about who were The Real Christians, well, annoyed our founders.
After all, they were Revolutionary Era Americans. They believed in freedom too! In this case, freedom of individual autonomy to interpret faith and the Bible personally. And that should foster unity, they thought, not division, because diversity was God’s gift for making Christ’s church stronger. Therefore, you could believe one thing, while I believed another, and we could still meet at Christ’s Table because Jesus welcomed everyone. A full table was best!
Besides, God’s love is what unites us, they said, not our beliefs. I LOVE that idea. Their pithy slogan was, “No Creed but Christ; No Law but Love.” Amen! God created us free to argue, even disagree, while respecting and accepting each other. I joined because I wanted such breadth and wisdom from my church home.
I also, like many young adult Christians, wanted my church home not to condemn gay people. Alas, that’s what my childhood churches- however decent otherwise- stridently taught. But as I now understand Jesus, he opened his fellowship to everyone. That’s what I found in Disciples. We value the freedom of all to live as they’re made before the God who made them. Therefore, we try welcoming everyone too. That includes, of course, those who don’t think, like me, that LGBTQ Christians should be included in church life and leadership. When I claim we are united by God’s love, I mean it.
But living that can be tricky. For instance, our denomination’s headquarters are in Indiana, whose governor recently signed a law purportedly protecting Religious Freedom. As I understand it (and I’m no lawyer…), it allows employers, landlords, merchants, etc., to make decisions about employment, rentals, service, etc., on the basis of personal belief. Sounds great on the surface! But I worry about the details. Could one effect be, say, a landlord believes that God wants gay people in Hell, not in her building, so she rejects LGBTQ applications?! African-Americans understand too well the unholy, devastating consequences such decisions create. It’s legalized discrimination.
And that’s religious freedom? We’re created to live and believe freely, I dearly believe. But I believe also in responsibility, i.e. my exercise of freedom can’t harm others. Thus, I couldn’t condone excluding LGBTQ neighbors from receiving the same treatment that I or my black foster kid’s entitled to. People died to make us one.
Which brings me to a new reason I love Disciples! Our denominational leaders sent Indiana’s governor an open letter last week asking that he veto the law. News organizations covered their claim that this wasn’t about religious freedom, but ran “contrary to the values of our faith…(W)e follow one who sat at table with people from all walks of life, and loved them all. Our church is diverse in point of view, but we share a value for an open Lord’s Table.” Then, they threatened to move our biennial General Assembly, scheduled for Indianapolis in 2017. That’s already deep in planning. But values held earnestly are worth paying for.
Perhaps you disagree with that decision. I’d strongly defend your free right to believe different than me! But I’m for it since I don’t think we’re fully free to love and serve as God desires if all neighbors aren’t afforded basic dignity. Perhaps this law isn’t as discriminatory as I worry. I hope so. Nevertheless, it provided our church with a clarifying moment: When we claim all are freely welcome to the united Table of the Resurrected One, what does that mean?
All, to me, means all.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Subtle Changes,
Poinsettias adorn our sanctuary every year as Christmas nears. Then on Christmas Eve, after our candlelight service, most Plymouth Creekers take home the plants they ordered. One exception this year was for perhaps the largest and reddest flower. Its owner/order-er graciously allowed the church to enjoy its beauty through the year’s end, into January, until Ash Wednesday, and, well, it’s there still!
This longevity surprised me. After all, I’m the guy who, my first Christmas here, left a poinsettia in my car for two hours during cold weather, thinking all would be well. It wasn’t. I returned to a car filled with wilted, dead leaves. Thus, my astonishment that our large poinsettia has endured through nearly three months! I figured we’d have it until Epiphany, Valentine’s Day if lucky. So every Sunday before service I’d throw away the couple wilted leaves that had fallen that week. I’d turn the pedestal so the most vivacious side faced the congregation, and assumed that next week would always be its last. But to my wonder, the following Sundays, while the plant wasn’t so grand as at first, it wasn’t yet a complete eye-sore. It kept fending off the compost pile, until after Palm Sunday, when we’ll finally remove it to make room for Easter flowers.
I recently decided that’s a great metaphor for what it’s like to follow the Christian Calendar. You know, that decision church leaders made way back whenever to structure Christian time not just on earthly, but spiritual cycles too. Essentially, we relive the same story annually. Christ’s conception opens the year, then the kid’s born, then adult Jesus does some neat stuff, then he upsets some brutal jerks, so he’s killed, but then- God is really awesome- He’s Alive! He’s Alive!
At least, that’s the rhythm of half our year, celebrating the basic narrative arc of Jesus’s birth, life, death, resurrection. Other important stuff comes up too, obviously. Yet Christians really like this story.
But it can get somewhat tedious, right? Reciting these moments over and over. Seriously, there’s only so much meaning you can forcibly extract from that weird Palm Sunday tale. Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas every year, and not (only) because I get presents. Honoring Jesus’ birthday is meaningful and profound. We should observe it annually. Same goes for Easter.
It’s the middle stuff that drags. Like that poinsettia, Christmas kicks off each year with a blazing red bang and then, over subsequent weeks, the sheen of church slowly wilts and fades until… Well. For some, until it’s thrown onto the compost pile. They won’t do church unless it’s at its Biggest and Best! They have little patience for the mundane stuff of meetings, cleaning coffee cups, breaking down tables, attending Sunday School. That’s not always powerful like candlelight Christmas Eve (though our Sunday School often is…), but it’s what allows Christian community to exist, grow and thrive. Of course, others dwell only in those details, define their spiritual life purely through meetings, routines and tasks that (only they!) do. This keeps God’s wonder and awe from barging into their faith like a cannon of grace and light, alas.
The fading poinsettia shows me another way through our Calendar. We basked in its beauty at Christmas, then in its afterglow ever since. And it’s slowly faded, sure, the effect reduced. If we were Christian perfectionists, we’d have dismissed it weeks ago. If we were Christian drudgery artists, we may never have noticed it. But hopefully we’ve enjoyed the lingering effect. Yet little lasts forever. Renewal is ever needed. Thankfully, that’s built into the Christian calendar too! Annually, we celebrate new life at Easter, its persistent possibility. So at Lent’s end, a lovely new flower will replace the decaying body of one we received at Christmas. Maybe our own spirits will, then, feel a fresh push of beautiful grace that could inspire us to work harder again for God’s Kingdom come.
I’m certainly looking forward to that boost! I do annually. Thank God for the wonder of special moments in the rhythm of Christian time, the daily work of good workers, and the promise of new life. Available always.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
This longevity surprised me. After all, I’m the guy who, my first Christmas here, left a poinsettia in my car for two hours during cold weather, thinking all would be well. It wasn’t. I returned to a car filled with wilted, dead leaves. Thus, my astonishment that our large poinsettia has endured through nearly three months! I figured we’d have it until Epiphany, Valentine’s Day if lucky. So every Sunday before service I’d throw away the couple wilted leaves that had fallen that week. I’d turn the pedestal so the most vivacious side faced the congregation, and assumed that next week would always be its last. But to my wonder, the following Sundays, while the plant wasn’t so grand as at first, it wasn’t yet a complete eye-sore. It kept fending off the compost pile, until after Palm Sunday, when we’ll finally remove it to make room for Easter flowers.
I recently decided that’s a great metaphor for what it’s like to follow the Christian Calendar. You know, that decision church leaders made way back whenever to structure Christian time not just on earthly, but spiritual cycles too. Essentially, we relive the same story annually. Christ’s conception opens the year, then the kid’s born, then adult Jesus does some neat stuff, then he upsets some brutal jerks, so he’s killed, but then- God is really awesome- He’s Alive! He’s Alive!
At least, that’s the rhythm of half our year, celebrating the basic narrative arc of Jesus’s birth, life, death, resurrection. Other important stuff comes up too, obviously. Yet Christians really like this story.
But it can get somewhat tedious, right? Reciting these moments over and over. Seriously, there’s only so much meaning you can forcibly extract from that weird Palm Sunday tale. Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas every year, and not (only) because I get presents. Honoring Jesus’ birthday is meaningful and profound. We should observe it annually. Same goes for Easter.
It’s the middle stuff that drags. Like that poinsettia, Christmas kicks off each year with a blazing red bang and then, over subsequent weeks, the sheen of church slowly wilts and fades until… Well. For some, until it’s thrown onto the compost pile. They won’t do church unless it’s at its Biggest and Best! They have little patience for the mundane stuff of meetings, cleaning coffee cups, breaking down tables, attending Sunday School. That’s not always powerful like candlelight Christmas Eve (though our Sunday School often is…), but it’s what allows Christian community to exist, grow and thrive. Of course, others dwell only in those details, define their spiritual life purely through meetings, routines and tasks that (only they!) do. This keeps God’s wonder and awe from barging into their faith like a cannon of grace and light, alas.
The fading poinsettia shows me another way through our Calendar. We basked in its beauty at Christmas, then in its afterglow ever since. And it’s slowly faded, sure, the effect reduced. If we were Christian perfectionists, we’d have dismissed it weeks ago. If we were Christian drudgery artists, we may never have noticed it. But hopefully we’ve enjoyed the lingering effect. Yet little lasts forever. Renewal is ever needed. Thankfully, that’s built into the Christian calendar too! Annually, we celebrate new life at Easter, its persistent possibility. So at Lent’s end, a lovely new flower will replace the decaying body of one we received at Christmas. Maybe our own spirits will, then, feel a fresh push of beautiful grace that could inspire us to work harder again for God’s Kingdom come.
I’m certainly looking forward to that boost! I do annually. Thank God for the wonder of special moments in the rhythm of Christian time, the daily work of good workers, and the promise of new life. Available always.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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