I wrote to someone not long ago that I’ve recently learned, “There’s fine line between stubbornness and faith.” Maybe it’s even in the eye of the beholder! The context, you’ll be unsurprised to hear, was our building project. For the past several months, it’s felt like an on-again, off-again situation, which was very jarring. Indeed, your leadership has traveled an active rollercoaster of frustration, changes and hopes.
As of this week, the car feels like it’s nearing a peak and – finally! – is poised to head downhill with excitement and speed. What I mean to say with that clunky metaphor is that our church received and accepted a loan offer from Klein Bank to fund the work!
As you maybe know, Church Extension originally rejected our application due to us attempting to be our own General Contractor. Klein doesn’t like that either, but is willing to work with us. Plus, they’re offering better rates than CE, which could prove useful. The church should see budget savings from a reduced mortgage, and also be able to stash away enough money to cover a year’s full mortgage. Should something unexpected happen to the child care center, that fund buys us time to recruit new tenants.
The deal hasn’t closed yet, of course. The bank will do title work, an appraisal, and need assurance that our construction budget is sufficient to build the building. We’re working closely with new contractors to provide that assurance, and should know – either way – in the next week. But assuming things go well, we’ll break ground in time to beat winter. Please keep praying for that!
And, again, what I’ve been reflecting on as this up-and-down process played itself out is that, at several points, we could’ve walked away, simply said, “It’s just too hard. Isn’t doing good supposed to be easier than this?!” I’ll be honest, I’m still tempted by that idea. That will be especially true if new contractor bids aren’t what we’re expecting. An alternative thought, however, is that we do what’s hard because it’s good. I like that better, that without a stick-to-itiveness, a tenacity and confidence that what we’re trying to accomplish is worth accomplishing, then good won’t be done. We’ll remain as we are, watching the status quo devolve into a much less interesting story about the power of Jesus’ Good News. Paul said that faith, hope and love are the three great Christian virtues. And they’re interdependent. Without hope, faith means little, to say nothing of love!
Hence, my recent insight about stubbornness. Sometimes being stubborn is about pride or, basically, not losing. Perhaps that’s been going on here. But I believe your leadership was up to something different, something better. I’m convinced their stubbornness to keeping finding new solutions, to take responsible and timely risks, to put it on the line consistently for the sake of pursuing Christ’s call, I believe that was about hope. A hope that we’re walking God’s way, a hope that the kids we’re serving and the church growth we’re seeding will pay off, making us and the world better, a hope that would diminish, even dissipate, if we decided to give up.
Hope without foundation is naiveté. Hope based on the promise and ways of God is faith. And faith is good! Because, essentially, it’s the stubborn commitment to trust that a better future is possible than one predicted by our fear. We’re too often told to fear. By so much around us- the news, our families, dour neighbors, bank account statements. That loud, resounding and repeating voice of fear convinces too many it’s also the voice of wisdom. That’s rarely true. Rather, I trust faith, that however stubborn it sounds, it’s better (and holier) to invest in futures forecasted by hope.
Of course, our project may all go south in a couple weeks, again, because not every step forward in faith ends the way we…hope. Nevertheless, I’m glad your church leaders chose that path rather than one less…rich, interesting, and primed. So tell those stubborn souls, next time you see them, “Thanks! Bravo! Keep it up!” Then, whatever happens, we’ll be faithful together.
As church should always be.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, August 21, 2015
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
Economic practice…
I recently finished a book about Behavioral Economics called Misbehaving by Richard Thaler. I read such books, so you know both, to learn something new and to impress my econ-trained wife! Misbehaving had numerous good stories and insights, though one just became personally relevant. Let me explain.
First off, ask yourself: How well do people make shopping decisions? One classic answer is that, by and large, people shop rationally, i.e. get the most value for the lowest price. Thaler thinks, however, that we’re not always so efficient. Indeed, we make irrational decisions constantly, he says, but fortunately, not randomly. We are predictably irrational; say, regularly grabbing the first bag of chips we see rather than comparison shop waaay back in the chips aisle.
Sound familiar… Nevertheless, critics have responded, “Who cares? People might behave irrationally when buying chips. But for big stuff with much at stake, like buying a new roof, people will behave rationally.” Which also sounds plausible. But as someone currently purchasing a new roof, I find Thaler’s rejoinder convincing. He further suggests that because we buy chips more frequently than roofs, we get good at such decisions. Like practice for soccer players, the more we do it, the more efficient we can become.
Conversely, most rarely “get good” at roof shopping because it’s so seldom done. That’s how I currently feel. We made a hail insurance claim and know that the insurance company and contractors have both more experience and self-interest. Whose information to trust? How much time to spend on this unfamiliar decision? Thus, I feel less like the self-maximizing rational actor of classic economic theory. I’m more like Thaler’s bumbling amateur making the best of a situation, with much still at stake.
Hence, why I read such books! I’ll let you know if that helps. But for now, apply that idea to spirituality. In particular, consider forgiveness. Maybe close your eyes and think about what forgiveness really means, why it really matters….
Did you think about a BIG sin? Betrayal? Abuse? Violence? If so, you’re not alone. It’s how many Christians understand forgiveness, egged on by their preachers. We tell powerful stories, hear dramatic testimony of people begging forgiveness for something HUGE. Their subsequent transformation into Redeemed Sinner inspires folk, convinces folk that grace is real.
But isn’t that equivalent to a roof purchase? After all, moments when grace is massively needed aren’t how most experience forgiveness. We deal with simpler stuff more often- ignoring a spouse’s impatient comment, giving a pass to a tired kid, saying, “That’s alright,” when a co-worker apologizes for insensitivity. That list is loooong! But I worry that because many reserve the term ‘forgiveness’ for just The BIG Sins, they consider themselves unpracticed at grace, ignorant of forgiveness’ full dimensions.
At worst, this leads some to overinflate their sinfulness, like equating white lies with abuse. Which are certainly not the same, but such ‘sin inflation’ is common in many churches. People are told that God forgives sin, that everyone sins, but the only forgiveness stories told are the BIG, dramatic ones. A + B, therefore, = We’re All Depraved Monsters.
But, again, such dramatic stories are outliers, right? Not the common experience of daily, faithful living, suggesting that most Christians are well-practiced at forgiveness, or can become so. I find that idea empowering! It means that, a) practical spirituality can produce a HUGE testimony to grace, when viewed over time. Are you a Christian who’s maybe never had a dramatic conversion, but have worked for decades to get better at forgiving? The grace you’ve accumulated and shared is impressive. Well done!
It also means, b) when people struggle to accept or extend forgiveness for BIG things, it’s not necessarily because they’re irredeemable. Like roof purchases, most folk don’t often encounter that need. We’re typically amateurs, who might need time to find and accept other’s wise counsel. Just don’t give up on someone if s/he doesn’t come around immediately.
Call that the Behavioral Economics of Forgiveness. If you find other implications, let me know. In the meantime, remember that simple graces aren’t irrelevant. They’re building blocks for daily spirituality. So practice often, and practice well.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
First off, ask yourself: How well do people make shopping decisions? One classic answer is that, by and large, people shop rationally, i.e. get the most value for the lowest price. Thaler thinks, however, that we’re not always so efficient. Indeed, we make irrational decisions constantly, he says, but fortunately, not randomly. We are predictably irrational; say, regularly grabbing the first bag of chips we see rather than comparison shop waaay back in the chips aisle.
Sound familiar… Nevertheless, critics have responded, “Who cares? People might behave irrationally when buying chips. But for big stuff with much at stake, like buying a new roof, people will behave rationally.” Which also sounds plausible. But as someone currently purchasing a new roof, I find Thaler’s rejoinder convincing. He further suggests that because we buy chips more frequently than roofs, we get good at such decisions. Like practice for soccer players, the more we do it, the more efficient we can become.
Conversely, most rarely “get good” at roof shopping because it’s so seldom done. That’s how I currently feel. We made a hail insurance claim and know that the insurance company and contractors have both more experience and self-interest. Whose information to trust? How much time to spend on this unfamiliar decision? Thus, I feel less like the self-maximizing rational actor of classic economic theory. I’m more like Thaler’s bumbling amateur making the best of a situation, with much still at stake.
Hence, why I read such books! I’ll let you know if that helps. But for now, apply that idea to spirituality. In particular, consider forgiveness. Maybe close your eyes and think about what forgiveness really means, why it really matters….
Did you think about a BIG sin? Betrayal? Abuse? Violence? If so, you’re not alone. It’s how many Christians understand forgiveness, egged on by their preachers. We tell powerful stories, hear dramatic testimony of people begging forgiveness for something HUGE. Their subsequent transformation into Redeemed Sinner inspires folk, convinces folk that grace is real.
But isn’t that equivalent to a roof purchase? After all, moments when grace is massively needed aren’t how most experience forgiveness. We deal with simpler stuff more often- ignoring a spouse’s impatient comment, giving a pass to a tired kid, saying, “That’s alright,” when a co-worker apologizes for insensitivity. That list is loooong! But I worry that because many reserve the term ‘forgiveness’ for just The BIG Sins, they consider themselves unpracticed at grace, ignorant of forgiveness’ full dimensions.
At worst, this leads some to overinflate their sinfulness, like equating white lies with abuse. Which are certainly not the same, but such ‘sin inflation’ is common in many churches. People are told that God forgives sin, that everyone sins, but the only forgiveness stories told are the BIG, dramatic ones. A + B, therefore, = We’re All Depraved Monsters.
But, again, such dramatic stories are outliers, right? Not the common experience of daily, faithful living, suggesting that most Christians are well-practiced at forgiveness, or can become so. I find that idea empowering! It means that, a) practical spirituality can produce a HUGE testimony to grace, when viewed over time. Are you a Christian who’s maybe never had a dramatic conversion, but have worked for decades to get better at forgiving? The grace you’ve accumulated and shared is impressive. Well done!
It also means, b) when people struggle to accept or extend forgiveness for BIG things, it’s not necessarily because they’re irredeemable. Like roof purchases, most folk don’t often encounter that need. We’re typically amateurs, who might need time to find and accept other’s wise counsel. Just don’t give up on someone if s/he doesn’t come around immediately.
Call that the Behavioral Economics of Forgiveness. If you find other implications, let me know. In the meantime, remember that simple graces aren’t irrelevant. They’re building blocks for daily spirituality. So practice often, and practice well.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Friday, August 7, 2015
Rerun…
Tabitha and I spent most of this week on stay-cation with our foster kid. Between that and other responsibilities at church, I didn’t have time to write a new letter. However, I think I’ve written some interesting stuff in the past. So I figured I’d just copy and paste something from several years ago that I enjoyed writing. Perhaps you’ll enjoy reading it, either again or for the first time. And if you didn’t like it when you read it years ago, feel free to skip this and go read some scripture instead! Always, it’s a joy to be connected with you…
Cuando Fluyan a la Mar…
I was privileged to be ordained at Iglesia del Pueblo Christian Church in Hammond, IN. In fact, IDP was the first Disciples of Christ church I joined. So it’s important to me, although I almost never attended in the first place. What happened was I, a relatively new DoC convert, was looking around the Chicago area for a DoC church to ordain me. I tried many places over multiple months, but nothing seemed ‘to fit.’ However, I needed to choose soon if I hoped to be ordained after graduation…
Then an attractive woman at my seminary told me she’d been checking out IDP, this Disciples church just over the state line from south Chicago, and it was really cool. They spoke Spanish and English, she said, and worshipped with a praise/gospel/salsa band, and I should go with her sometime. I must say, that sounded intriguing, but very intimidating. And I agreed to go mainly because 45 minutes in the car each direction was a long time to convince her to date me.
It worked, by the way. She’s now my wife! And what’s certainly less important, but still crucial, is I loved the church. Plus, they nurtured me down the final path to ordained ministry. But again, however neat the result in retrospect, I didn’t expect IDP ‘to fit.’ I figured I was a young white kid who speaks minimal Spanish. Thus, hoping a predominantly Latino congregation would partner with and love me enough to make me a reverend seemed farfetched. Until I walked in the door, and all assumptions I’d made about “Us v. Them” or “White v. Latino” disappeared, when John Cedeno vigorously greeted me, saying, “Thanks for coming! Tell me about yourself!” Great hospitality! I felt very welcome. And that helped me relax enough to learn that in the important things, IDP and I were one and the same. We both valued hospitality and passionate worship, above most everything else.
But similar though our values were, IDP worshiped differently than I’d experienced before. They were intentionally multicultural. This, as you might suspect, is quite tricky. Across the country, only 7% of American churches are what sociologists dub “multicultural” (meaning no one ethnic group tops 80%). Indeed, White, Black, Latino or Asian Pacific-Islander, most American Christians attend church with folk who look similar, and share similar tastes in music and expectations about worship culture (expectations like service length, music volume, impromptu v. scripted prayer, vocal interaction during sermons, clapping). That’s not news, surely, but the stats highlight how strange IDP was by blending English and Spanish, Black Gospel, Salsa, White Evangelical Praise, and Old European Hymns. However, what to some seemed strange, I learned was Glorious
In retrospect, I think one lesson from my IDP days sticks out most: Christians share vastly different cultures, languages, assumptions about ‘proper church behavior’ and even beliefs about Jesus, but all that’s less important than our shared desire to praise God. In whatever way we do best. My favorite IDP song remains a Spanish language Pentecostal tune called Como Las Aguas del Rio Roughly translated, the words are- “Like the waters of the river when they flow to the sea/so arrives the glory of the Lord into my heart”. I think glory-arriving is possible whether you’re shouting and dancing, or silently meditating to a Celtic version of "Be Thou My Vision".
But the point of multicultural worship isn’t simply to affirm ‘we have more in common than not.’ Nor is it, as some have suggested, rejecting your inherited culture as ‘boring’ or ‘dull’. I means using worship to affirm 1 Corinthians 13:12- “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” Experiencing worship from a variety of cultures, in multiple languages, is the same thing as seeing God through another’s eyes, and from vantages we’d never achieve on our own.
Or, if you will, knowing God more fully now, in anticipation of that ‘Great Gittin’ Up Morning’ when it’ll all be made plain.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Cuando Fluyan a la Mar…
I was privileged to be ordained at Iglesia del Pueblo Christian Church in Hammond, IN. In fact, IDP was the first Disciples of Christ church I joined. So it’s important to me, although I almost never attended in the first place. What happened was I, a relatively new DoC convert, was looking around the Chicago area for a DoC church to ordain me. I tried many places over multiple months, but nothing seemed ‘to fit.’ However, I needed to choose soon if I hoped to be ordained after graduation…
Then an attractive woman at my seminary told me she’d been checking out IDP, this Disciples church just over the state line from south Chicago, and it was really cool. They spoke Spanish and English, she said, and worshipped with a praise/gospel/salsa band, and I should go with her sometime. I must say, that sounded intriguing, but very intimidating. And I agreed to go mainly because 45 minutes in the car each direction was a long time to convince her to date me.
It worked, by the way. She’s now my wife! And what’s certainly less important, but still crucial, is I loved the church. Plus, they nurtured me down the final path to ordained ministry. But again, however neat the result in retrospect, I didn’t expect IDP ‘to fit.’ I figured I was a young white kid who speaks minimal Spanish. Thus, hoping a predominantly Latino congregation would partner with and love me enough to make me a reverend seemed farfetched. Until I walked in the door, and all assumptions I’d made about “Us v. Them” or “White v. Latino” disappeared, when John Cedeno vigorously greeted me, saying, “Thanks for coming! Tell me about yourself!” Great hospitality! I felt very welcome. And that helped me relax enough to learn that in the important things, IDP and I were one and the same. We both valued hospitality and passionate worship, above most everything else.
But similar though our values were, IDP worshiped differently than I’d experienced before. They were intentionally multicultural. This, as you might suspect, is quite tricky. Across the country, only 7% of American churches are what sociologists dub “multicultural” (meaning no one ethnic group tops 80%). Indeed, White, Black, Latino or Asian Pacific-Islander, most American Christians attend church with folk who look similar, and share similar tastes in music and expectations about worship culture (expectations like service length, music volume, impromptu v. scripted prayer, vocal interaction during sermons, clapping). That’s not news, surely, but the stats highlight how strange IDP was by blending English and Spanish, Black Gospel, Salsa, White Evangelical Praise, and Old European Hymns. However, what to some seemed strange, I learned was Glorious
In retrospect, I think one lesson from my IDP days sticks out most: Christians share vastly different cultures, languages, assumptions about ‘proper church behavior’ and even beliefs about Jesus, but all that’s less important than our shared desire to praise God. In whatever way we do best. My favorite IDP song remains a Spanish language Pentecostal tune called Como Las Aguas del Rio Roughly translated, the words are- “Like the waters of the river when they flow to the sea/so arrives the glory of the Lord into my heart”. I think glory-arriving is possible whether you’re shouting and dancing, or silently meditating to a Celtic version of "Be Thou My Vision".
But the point of multicultural worship isn’t simply to affirm ‘we have more in common than not.’ Nor is it, as some have suggested, rejecting your inherited culture as ‘boring’ or ‘dull’. I means using worship to affirm 1 Corinthians 13:12- “For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” Experiencing worship from a variety of cultures, in multiple languages, is the same thing as seeing God through another’s eyes, and from vantages we’d never achieve on our own.
Or, if you will, knowing God more fully now, in anticipation of that ‘Great Gittin’ Up Morning’ when it’ll all be made plain.
Grace and Peace,
Shane Read more!
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Violence…
Tabitha woke me at 1:30am Monday. She said, “I don’t want you to be alarmed…” Which is absolutely not how anyone wants to be awoken! So I was alarmed.
Tabitha continued, “There’re police outside our house. Yellow tape’s stretched across the street, starting at our fence. And there’s a dead body on the sidewalk at the corner.” Now, I understood her words.
The Star Tribune has details. As far as I know currently, several people in two cars got into an argument, which escalated to a point they felt it appropriate to exchange gunfire in my residential neighborhood. The cars sped away.
Waking up my neighbor, whose house on the corner shelters two smart, pleasant pre-teen girls. One person, who was shot, got away with non-lethal injuries. Another’s corpse lay on the concrete at the stop sign I drive by daily; in front of a home whose front yard is a jungle of wildflowers and perennials, with which the kind owners spend hours every weekend, tending into a billowing mass of verdant beauty. I left for work this morning as firefighters were washing blood off those flowers.
What may surprise you, however, is that I don’t feel suddenly unsafe. Indeed, I stared at that dead body with neighbors for awhile; annoyed, rattled, but also horrified at myself that I wasn’t disgusted. I think I’ve been growing callous to my neighborhood’s violence and crime, which may help me get by. But I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel holy. I told that to a preacher friend, who responded, “I think the balance that we strike between horror and callousness is the balance between holy and human.” Amen.
Another reason I don’t feel more unsafe now is my wife’s a statistics and policy guru, who taught me, years back, that violent crime usually occurs in patterns, i.e. predictably. Thus, when a stranger invaded the home in my neighborhood earlier this month, and killed the owner, the story exemplified what many fear when they hear “North Minneapolis.” But it’s a huge exception to the rule. Most gun violence is very different.
The #1 cause of gun deaths, after all, is suicide, not accidents or murder. And when homicide does occur, it almost always includes several of the following factors- a) domestic violence, b) gun ownership, c) involvement in crime, d) substance abuse, e) other-stuff-Tabitha-remembers-but-I-can’t. In other words, because my wife doesn’t beat me, I don’t own a gun, I’m not a criminal, nor do I hang out with any, or have a cocaine problem, my risks for violent death are way low. And studies show that my higher-crime neighborhood barely factors in.
Which isn’t to say all gun owners put their families in danger (unless they’re storing ammo with their weapons, or not using good safes...), or anyone who smokes pot, or who’s ever been convicted. It’s simply observing that the risks of violence rise when these factors combine with poverty, anger, systemic racism or plain ole sin.
That doesn’t make what happened last night okay or understandable. It just describes my staid reaction. I’m unsatisfied, though, with that reaction. It feels smug. Like I’m unfairly distancing myself from folk whose lives are more threatened. And that’s not okay, for me to say, “Well, as a middle class, law-abiding white guy, I wish those people would get it together!” “Those people” are my neighbors, and more important, God’s children. So whatever causes these enduring patterns of violence shouldn’t be ignored, or blamed on folk whose lives I don’t fully understand, whose values I’ve never been forced to adopt. I know many have preferred “solutions” to ending those patterns- from banning handguns to universal open carry- and I can’t say which I think you should support. I don’t even know which I think are best! But I don’t believe our status quo works. I was horrified enough by that corpse to admit that.
Nor do I believe we followers of the Prince of Peace should accept violence as “the way things are” without a sustained prayer that things won’t be that way forever. May we accept a role in changing things. May that dead man’s family finds healing.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tabitha continued, “There’re police outside our house. Yellow tape’s stretched across the street, starting at our fence. And there’s a dead body on the sidewalk at the corner.” Now, I understood her words.
The Star Tribune has details. As far as I know currently, several people in two cars got into an argument, which escalated to a point they felt it appropriate to exchange gunfire in my residential neighborhood. The cars sped away.
Waking up my neighbor, whose house on the corner shelters two smart, pleasant pre-teen girls. One person, who was shot, got away with non-lethal injuries. Another’s corpse lay on the concrete at the stop sign I drive by daily; in front of a home whose front yard is a jungle of wildflowers and perennials, with which the kind owners spend hours every weekend, tending into a billowing mass of verdant beauty. I left for work this morning as firefighters were washing blood off those flowers.
What may surprise you, however, is that I don’t feel suddenly unsafe. Indeed, I stared at that dead body with neighbors for awhile; annoyed, rattled, but also horrified at myself that I wasn’t disgusted. I think I’ve been growing callous to my neighborhood’s violence and crime, which may help me get by. But I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel holy. I told that to a preacher friend, who responded, “I think the balance that we strike between horror and callousness is the balance between holy and human.” Amen.
Another reason I don’t feel more unsafe now is my wife’s a statistics and policy guru, who taught me, years back, that violent crime usually occurs in patterns, i.e. predictably. Thus, when a stranger invaded the home in my neighborhood earlier this month, and killed the owner, the story exemplified what many fear when they hear “North Minneapolis.” But it’s a huge exception to the rule. Most gun violence is very different.
The #1 cause of gun deaths, after all, is suicide, not accidents or murder. And when homicide does occur, it almost always includes several of the following factors- a) domestic violence, b) gun ownership, c) involvement in crime, d) substance abuse, e) other-stuff-Tabitha-remembers-but-I-can’t. In other words, because my wife doesn’t beat me, I don’t own a gun, I’m not a criminal, nor do I hang out with any, or have a cocaine problem, my risks for violent death are way low. And studies show that my higher-crime neighborhood barely factors in.
Which isn’t to say all gun owners put their families in danger (unless they’re storing ammo with their weapons, or not using good safes...), or anyone who smokes pot, or who’s ever been convicted. It’s simply observing that the risks of violence rise when these factors combine with poverty, anger, systemic racism or plain ole sin.
That doesn’t make what happened last night okay or understandable. It just describes my staid reaction. I’m unsatisfied, though, with that reaction. It feels smug. Like I’m unfairly distancing myself from folk whose lives are more threatened. And that’s not okay, for me to say, “Well, as a middle class, law-abiding white guy, I wish those people would get it together!” “Those people” are my neighbors, and more important, God’s children. So whatever causes these enduring patterns of violence shouldn’t be ignored, or blamed on folk whose lives I don’t fully understand, whose values I’ve never been forced to adopt. I know many have preferred “solutions” to ending those patterns- from banning handguns to universal open carry- and I can’t say which I think you should support. I don’t even know which I think are best! But I don’t believe our status quo works. I was horrified enough by that corpse to admit that.
Nor do I believe we followers of the Prince of Peace should accept violence as “the way things are” without a sustained prayer that things won’t be that way forever. May we accept a role in changing things. May that dead man’s family finds healing.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Mission First…
I’m writing from Columbus, Ohio, where people from throughout our denomination have gathered for our bi-annual General Assembly. We do some of the business of being church together in these meetings- discussing and voting on pressing issues of social concern, church structure, receiving reports from General Ministries. But mostly- this is my favorite part- it’s a big family reunion. People I only see frequently on Facebook are here in person for reconnecting, conversating and enjoying the fact that we’re in the same family together, gathered around the Table of Jesus Christ. We are privileged to be Disciples!
I thought you’d be interested, though, in one of those business items, something that was the theme of our General Minister and President’s keynote address. She’s calling the church to engage in a new initiative she’s dubbed Mission First, whose intention is what the name says: As a church, we should put our mission in prime position.
We know that can be hard. Concerns about finances, building maintenance, conflicted relationships among members and more can so often- sometimes too often- become our focus. Indeed, for many churches, it sometimes feels like that’s the only reason they gather together or use their gifts and talents; to solve the problems facing the institution of the church. All that, of course, is critical. Without faithful and occasionally challenging conversations about budgets, we can’t pay our staffs or keep the lights on. Without an effective physical plant, we can offer quality hospitality or use our space for good programs and gatherings. Without caring effectively for one another, and healing relationships that break, we aren’t community, we aren’t the people of God.
That said, Jesus didn’t call us Disciples to pay budgets, build buildings, or know one another solely for that sake alone. We’re called into mission. Or, as Jesus put it, to help God’s Kingdom come on earth. That requires we constantly be thinking about how our church affects the world beyond our walls. That demands we use our creative energies for updating and imagining the work we can do to lift up neighbors, especially “the least of these.” All that and more is mission. And mission is the “why” of church.
Increasingly, our GMP is saying, it should also be the “what” of our churches. What do you imagine your role is in the mission of God’s church? I write it that way intentionally. I don’t just mean, “What do you do to help Plymouth Creek survive and thrive?” God wants more. God wants our identities aligned with God’s identity. God wants our language to emerge from spiritual sources, not simply the culture that surrounds us. You aren’t just people I know. You are my sisters and brothers in faith. Therefore, what you do because you are associated with this church can and should matter to the mission of God.
Do you ever consider that fact before you arrive for worship on Sundays? What about when you’re relaxing at home, wondering what to do with your free time, whether to watch another episode of The Walking Dead or Dancing with the Stars, or to use those moments to brighten the souls of people in need? Imagine what could happen if you and I, and more people in our church, and in our sibling churches around the country, made answering such questions in ways that reflect the glory of our glorious God a major life priority!
That’s what this Mission First initiative, as I understand it, intends to spark. Next year, there will be gatherings in many locales to kick the conversation off. I’m not sure when and where those will occur in our corner of this nation, but I’ll keep you informed. There’s no reason, however, we need to wait. You have been baptized, and therefore included, and therefore called into the Mission of the God of Resurrection in our world, in our midst. The necessary steps to make that call a greater reality only wait for your decision to make them. What will you do? Whom will you serve? How will you make God’s Mission first place in your life next year, tomorrow, today?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
I thought you’d be interested, though, in one of those business items, something that was the theme of our General Minister and President’s keynote address. She’s calling the church to engage in a new initiative she’s dubbed Mission First, whose intention is what the name says: As a church, we should put our mission in prime position.
We know that can be hard. Concerns about finances, building maintenance, conflicted relationships among members and more can so often- sometimes too often- become our focus. Indeed, for many churches, it sometimes feels like that’s the only reason they gather together or use their gifts and talents; to solve the problems facing the institution of the church. All that, of course, is critical. Without faithful and occasionally challenging conversations about budgets, we can’t pay our staffs or keep the lights on. Without an effective physical plant, we can offer quality hospitality or use our space for good programs and gatherings. Without caring effectively for one another, and healing relationships that break, we aren’t community, we aren’t the people of God.
That said, Jesus didn’t call us Disciples to pay budgets, build buildings, or know one another solely for that sake alone. We’re called into mission. Or, as Jesus put it, to help God’s Kingdom come on earth. That requires we constantly be thinking about how our church affects the world beyond our walls. That demands we use our creative energies for updating and imagining the work we can do to lift up neighbors, especially “the least of these.” All that and more is mission. And mission is the “why” of church.
Increasingly, our GMP is saying, it should also be the “what” of our churches. What do you imagine your role is in the mission of God’s church? I write it that way intentionally. I don’t just mean, “What do you do to help Plymouth Creek survive and thrive?” God wants more. God wants our identities aligned with God’s identity. God wants our language to emerge from spiritual sources, not simply the culture that surrounds us. You aren’t just people I know. You are my sisters and brothers in faith. Therefore, what you do because you are associated with this church can and should matter to the mission of God.
Do you ever consider that fact before you arrive for worship on Sundays? What about when you’re relaxing at home, wondering what to do with your free time, whether to watch another episode of The Walking Dead or Dancing with the Stars, or to use those moments to brighten the souls of people in need? Imagine what could happen if you and I, and more people in our church, and in our sibling churches around the country, made answering such questions in ways that reflect the glory of our glorious God a major life priority!
That’s what this Mission First initiative, as I understand it, intends to spark. Next year, there will be gatherings in many locales to kick the conversation off. I’m not sure when and where those will occur in our corner of this nation, but I’ll keep you informed. There’s no reason, however, we need to wait. You have been baptized, and therefore included, and therefore called into the Mission of the God of Resurrection in our world, in our midst. The necessary steps to make that call a greater reality only wait for your decision to make them. What will you do? Whom will you serve? How will you make God’s Mission first place in your life next year, tomorrow, today?
Grace and Peace,
Shane
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Friday, July 17, 2015
Knees…
I had a good conversation about prayer last week. Essentially, I remarked, in response to a challenging situation, that I’d be spending some time in prayer about it, since that’s what we religious folk do. We listen to sisters and brothers when they’re hurting, planning for surgery, or otherwise facing something important. And we offer to pray, which we then do, at home or even right there and then!
Thus, at least, is the intention. I’d be the church’s biggest hypocrite if I pretended that every time I’ve uttered that phrase, “You’ll be in my prayers,” I did so immediately, and for the proper number of days. The thing is, sometimes I don’t pray. I forget, or get busy, or focus only on my desires and worries like the selfish sinner we all can be, or I’m angry with God, so I stay off my knees. For whatever reason, occasionally I’ve responded to folk in need with an offer to pray, almost without thinking. And while I certainly intended to do to it, I didn’t. Please forgive me!
I wish that weren’t so. But I’ve never developed a regimented, structured prayer-life. I doubt I will. And I think Jesus is fine with that. God made each of us different. I respect those who pray ten minutes in the morning, twenty at night, fifteen over lunch. They struggle with keeping their prayer-life fresh. I struggle with keeping mine active.
But it matters to me still. So I’ve tried discovering ways to build more moments with God into my routine. Mealtime prayers are typical, now. I’m trying to shape reactions to events into brief opportunities for remembering God. When I see a person hurting- “God, help her.” When the sky is beautiful- “God, well done!” The goal is keeping up communication, not becoming a stranger, which can happen with God when your spiritual instincts are like mine. And the need for that goal became personally obvious last week.
You see, Tabitha and I learned that our foster son is headed home before school starts. That, of course, is great news. The point of fostering is to love and support a child who’s endured tough stuff, until he’s able to return to a more stable home.
I’m also heartbroken, because all that loving and supporting means he got under my skin, in mostly wonderful ways. So I’m going to miss him. And while I know we’ve been building toward that and even preparing for the pain of him going home, it still hurts, as it was always going to. Thus, I’m both proud of myself and a mess!
So I told someone about it last week, and we discussed praying for the situation, and that’s right. Like the old Motown song, whenever we call God or need God, God’ll be there. God’ll be around. But we also remarked that it’s probably good I’ve been trying to be in communication with God recently. That way, when I dropped to my knees, I wouldn’t have to begin by excessively reintroducing myself!
Which put a new frame for me around the topic of daily prayer. Usually, I think about praying regularly as a religious duty, me fulfilling God’s expectations. And, really, my own expectations! Because I don’t consider prayer odious. I love to do it…when I get around to it. But I was struck by this notion that consistent prayer is useful for building us up, preparing us for when the storm clouds arise, keeping our anchor lines maintained, for when we’ll really need to pray. Maybe you find that interesting too. We get closer to God, primarily, because God’s worth it. But so too because, when our time to relay on that unbreakable rock arrives, we’ll know better how to fall.
In any event, that’s what I’ve been thinking about. If you’ve got better insights into prayer, please let me know. Also, will you pray for my family, when you think it? And for our foster son, that his transition home will bring joy and peace, now and for years to come.
It’s been a privilege to be part of his journey. Thank you for helping us along the way.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Thus, at least, is the intention. I’d be the church’s biggest hypocrite if I pretended that every time I’ve uttered that phrase, “You’ll be in my prayers,” I did so immediately, and for the proper number of days. The thing is, sometimes I don’t pray. I forget, or get busy, or focus only on my desires and worries like the selfish sinner we all can be, or I’m angry with God, so I stay off my knees. For whatever reason, occasionally I’ve responded to folk in need with an offer to pray, almost without thinking. And while I certainly intended to do to it, I didn’t. Please forgive me!
I wish that weren’t so. But I’ve never developed a regimented, structured prayer-life. I doubt I will. And I think Jesus is fine with that. God made each of us different. I respect those who pray ten minutes in the morning, twenty at night, fifteen over lunch. They struggle with keeping their prayer-life fresh. I struggle with keeping mine active.
But it matters to me still. So I’ve tried discovering ways to build more moments with God into my routine. Mealtime prayers are typical, now. I’m trying to shape reactions to events into brief opportunities for remembering God. When I see a person hurting- “God, help her.” When the sky is beautiful- “God, well done!” The goal is keeping up communication, not becoming a stranger, which can happen with God when your spiritual instincts are like mine. And the need for that goal became personally obvious last week.
You see, Tabitha and I learned that our foster son is headed home before school starts. That, of course, is great news. The point of fostering is to love and support a child who’s endured tough stuff, until he’s able to return to a more stable home.
I’m also heartbroken, because all that loving and supporting means he got under my skin, in mostly wonderful ways. So I’m going to miss him. And while I know we’ve been building toward that and even preparing for the pain of him going home, it still hurts, as it was always going to. Thus, I’m both proud of myself and a mess!
So I told someone about it last week, and we discussed praying for the situation, and that’s right. Like the old Motown song, whenever we call God or need God, God’ll be there. God’ll be around. But we also remarked that it’s probably good I’ve been trying to be in communication with God recently. That way, when I dropped to my knees, I wouldn’t have to begin by excessively reintroducing myself!
Which put a new frame for me around the topic of daily prayer. Usually, I think about praying regularly as a religious duty, me fulfilling God’s expectations. And, really, my own expectations! Because I don’t consider prayer odious. I love to do it…when I get around to it. But I was struck by this notion that consistent prayer is useful for building us up, preparing us for when the storm clouds arise, keeping our anchor lines maintained, for when we’ll really need to pray. Maybe you find that interesting too. We get closer to God, primarily, because God’s worth it. But so too because, when our time to relay on that unbreakable rock arrives, we’ll know better how to fall.
In any event, that’s what I’ve been thinking about. If you’ve got better insights into prayer, please let me know. Also, will you pray for my family, when you think it? And for our foster son, that his transition home will bring joy and peace, now and for years to come.
It’s been a privilege to be part of his journey. Thank you for helping us along the way.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
A rebuttal…
Last week, I shared thoughts on the Supreme Court’s gay marriage decision. I received an articulate response disagreeing with me. At issue wasn’t a critique of my theology. Rather, the person questioned the process and implications of this new right becoming law.
Here’s the counterargument, in brief: The responder worried about an unelected body inscribing into the Constitution something that wasn’t there and should be decided by state legislatures, and that such non-representative government is dangerous. I hope that summary’s fair! I responded because I thought this concern was valid and important. Here’s an edited version, written- mind you- by Shane the Citizen, not Shane the Pastor:
“I appreciate your thoughtful response! It led me to re-read what I wrote. When I said that I agreed with the Court's decision, I was thinking about, "Should gay men and women have the right to marry," not, "Should the Supreme Court be arbiter of that question." In other words, to me it was a moral, even theological question about marriage. The process of federal policy-making wasn't on my mind. So I'm glad you took it that direction! As a citizen, I'm of two minds…
On the one hand, I share your concern about an unelected body making a clear shift in federal social policy. Other Supreme Court decisions aren't so fundamental. They arbitrate ambiguous legal situations, and I'm glad it exists as a non-partisan entity to do that. Look at countries without our tradition of an Independent Judiciary; corruption in the courts is too real. It's become commonplace on the right and left to assume the Supreme Court is just an extension of our divided politics. Mostly, I think that's wrong, and those justices take their unique role in our system seriously.
Nevertheless, the gay marriage question was about something deeper: who counts as fully "one of us" in American society. Essentially, that's a political question, no legal; decided by elections, not courts. Simply because "my side" won this case doesn't mean I should be naive about the precedent it sets, and think that, when the court changes, my side won't be targeted next. As you say, that's a dangerous form of government, possibly compromising the judiciary itself.
On the other hand, it's not entirely unprecedented. Before the question of "should gay folk be allowed to marry" was debated, the question of "should African-Americans be provided separate, but ostensibly equal schooling" was debated. The resolution to that question- also about who counts as fully "one of us”- was a Supreme Court decision, not legislative act. As I recall, the constitutional basis was the same as in this recent case, the 14th Amendment's "equal protection" provision.
Should that have been left to the states? I don't think so, since it was obvious that many states then wouldn’t treat their black and white citizens equally. Maybe that's a constant tension in the Federalist system; different states will take different stances on the same question. And often that's fine, but when the conflict is "who counts as fully American” (i.e. gets to vote, marry, receive citizenship), I'm in favor of federal solutions. Call me a Hamiltonian, or fan of Henry Clay...
Anyway, I do wonder whether the better course was one pursued by earlier generations. When women achieved voting rights that was by constitutional amendment. Same for African American voting rights. In other words, would a national campaign for a marriage equality amendment have been better than a Supreme Court decision? It would've taken longer. It may have also avoided the un-democratic aspect of justices making essentially political determinations.
After all, while the Constitution is our enduring, foundational document, its great genius (or one of them!) was building change into its framework- i.e. the amendment process. That way, it remains alive and accountable to future generations, not dead. If we the people don't like that it doesn't contain a federal marriage definition, well, it allows to write one in! If we don't pursue that route, perhaps we don't care as much about it as we claim? Or maybe we're worried it'll take longer than we want?
Sorry for the over-long response. You got me thinking! I don't think I've resolved anything. But I'm glad for your disagreement. It reminds me that the Founders highest hope was that citizens would be engaged not only in policy-making, but engaged with each other. All sides bringing their best to challenge and refine others' thoughts and aspirations. Too often, nowadays, people don’t engage with, but scream at each other. And constant disrespect for fellow citizens whom you disagree with is a dangerous precedent for government too.”
So there’s my rebuttal. I hope it was, at least, interesting! And please, take the responders’ cue: if you disagree with me (or anyone), engage. Stewing in silent frustration doesn’t make anyone better, amen?! There’s room at the Table for all.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
Here’s the counterargument, in brief: The responder worried about an unelected body inscribing into the Constitution something that wasn’t there and should be decided by state legislatures, and that such non-representative government is dangerous. I hope that summary’s fair! I responded because I thought this concern was valid and important. Here’s an edited version, written- mind you- by Shane the Citizen, not Shane the Pastor:
“I appreciate your thoughtful response! It led me to re-read what I wrote. When I said that I agreed with the Court's decision, I was thinking about, "Should gay men and women have the right to marry," not, "Should the Supreme Court be arbiter of that question." In other words, to me it was a moral, even theological question about marriage. The process of federal policy-making wasn't on my mind. So I'm glad you took it that direction! As a citizen, I'm of two minds…
On the one hand, I share your concern about an unelected body making a clear shift in federal social policy. Other Supreme Court decisions aren't so fundamental. They arbitrate ambiguous legal situations, and I'm glad it exists as a non-partisan entity to do that. Look at countries without our tradition of an Independent Judiciary; corruption in the courts is too real. It's become commonplace on the right and left to assume the Supreme Court is just an extension of our divided politics. Mostly, I think that's wrong, and those justices take their unique role in our system seriously.
Nevertheless, the gay marriage question was about something deeper: who counts as fully "one of us" in American society. Essentially, that's a political question, no legal; decided by elections, not courts. Simply because "my side" won this case doesn't mean I should be naive about the precedent it sets, and think that, when the court changes, my side won't be targeted next. As you say, that's a dangerous form of government, possibly compromising the judiciary itself.
On the other hand, it's not entirely unprecedented. Before the question of "should gay folk be allowed to marry" was debated, the question of "should African-Americans be provided separate, but ostensibly equal schooling" was debated. The resolution to that question- also about who counts as fully "one of us”- was a Supreme Court decision, not legislative act. As I recall, the constitutional basis was the same as in this recent case, the 14th Amendment's "equal protection" provision.
Should that have been left to the states? I don't think so, since it was obvious that many states then wouldn’t treat their black and white citizens equally. Maybe that's a constant tension in the Federalist system; different states will take different stances on the same question. And often that's fine, but when the conflict is "who counts as fully American” (i.e. gets to vote, marry, receive citizenship), I'm in favor of federal solutions. Call me a Hamiltonian, or fan of Henry Clay...
Anyway, I do wonder whether the better course was one pursued by earlier generations. When women achieved voting rights that was by constitutional amendment. Same for African American voting rights. In other words, would a national campaign for a marriage equality amendment have been better than a Supreme Court decision? It would've taken longer. It may have also avoided the un-democratic aspect of justices making essentially political determinations.
After all, while the Constitution is our enduring, foundational document, its great genius (or one of them!) was building change into its framework- i.e. the amendment process. That way, it remains alive and accountable to future generations, not dead. If we the people don't like that it doesn't contain a federal marriage definition, well, it allows to write one in! If we don't pursue that route, perhaps we don't care as much about it as we claim? Or maybe we're worried it'll take longer than we want?
Sorry for the over-long response. You got me thinking! I don't think I've resolved anything. But I'm glad for your disagreement. It reminds me that the Founders highest hope was that citizens would be engaged not only in policy-making, but engaged with each other. All sides bringing their best to challenge and refine others' thoughts and aspirations. Too often, nowadays, people don’t engage with, but scream at each other. And constant disrespect for fellow citizens whom you disagree with is a dangerous precedent for government too.”
So there’s my rebuttal. I hope it was, at least, interesting! And please, take the responders’ cue: if you disagree with me (or anyone), engage. Stewing in silent frustration doesn’t make anyone better, amen?! There’s room at the Table for all.
Grace and Peace,
Shane
Read more!
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