Tradition: Foundation Stone or Rock of Sisyphus?

In my December post, I recounted the words of the now-retired Rector of St. Bartholomew's Church that the Episcopal Church has a "huge and nearly immovable weight of tradition" that often prevents it from adapting well or quickly to new realities. Last week, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams announced he was resigning to become head of Magdalene College at Cambridge. In a recent interview, Williams discusses tradition and the "fresh expressions of church" movement in England:

Remember, you're not the first people to read the bible. There's twenty centuries of people praying and thinking through scripture and passing on their wisdom. It would be wonderful if we could recover a really lively and positive sense of what tradition meant. Not this great weight pressing down on you---this is how we've always done it---but there's this great reservoir of experience and wisdom which we're free to draw on and grow with.

And I think that is one lesson that all new kinds of congregation[s] have to bear in mind. The more traditional, traditionally mainstream kinds of church, need to know that the church is always being restored and renewed from unexpected places. The new, renewing, bits of church need to remember that God has not abandoned His church over twenty centuries and has been giving gifts all the way through to learn from. So it's that balance, what I once called the "mixed economy" of the church, which I think keeps us fit.

That got me to thinking about the nature of tradition. On the one hand, it can and does form a solid foundation upon which to build. On the other hand, it can just as easily become the proverbial Rock of Sisyphus that folks get tired of moving.

I think this has a lot to do with an emerging (no pun intended) idea that this post-Christian time period is much like the time after the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 A.D. We're in a post-establishment time and there is a huge temptation to metaphorically attempt to carry some of the foundation stones away from the now-destroyed temple in an attempt at reconstruction, or at least an attempt to hold onto a symbol of the way things used to be. Contrast that with Jesus' words about the temple that were read two Sundays ago:

Jesus answered them, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." The Jews then said, "This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?" But he was speaking of the temple of his body." (John 2:18-21)

Jesus also famously said to his disciples, upon sending them out for the first time:

"You may take along a walking stick. But don't carry food or a traveling bag or any money. It's all right to wear sandals, but don't take along a change of clothes. When you are welcomed into a home, stay there until you leave that town. If any place won't welcome you or listen to your message, leave and shake the dust from your feet  as a warning to them." (Mark 6:8b-11)

I'm just beginning to unpack the metaphor of the similarities between post-temple Judaism and post-Christendom Christianity, but the lesson for us may be to be quite careful about what we choose to put in our "tradition packs." When I was a child, our family used to take backpacking trips regularly. When one backpacks, the object is to make things as light as possible, since you are going to be carrying anything you pack for many miles. So, things are re-packaged to minimize weight, one makes use of freeze-dried foods that are much lighter than regular food, and one is very careful about what sort of "extras" one takes--and things that seem critical in regular camping, not to mention around the house, rapidly become "extras" when one is forced to carry them for many miles on one's back!

Perhaps that is what we're doing these days in the church--we're packing for an ecclesiastical backpacking trip. We're trying to sort our the essentials from the extras--and sometimes finding out that things that seemed essential when we were in the comforts of Christendom have become extras now that we are packing for a trip into the ecclesiastical and spiritual wilderness. Perhaps we also need to unload and drop our temple building-stones and recall that Jesus is talking about himself when he says:

 "Then what do the Scriptures mean when they say, `The stone that the builders tossed aside is now the most important stone of all'? Anyone who stumbles over this stone will get hurt, and anyone it falls on will be smashed to pieces." (Luke 20:17b-18)

Pack carefully....

Maintenance, Mission, and Ministry

I just watched a video greeting (via Episcopal Cafe) by Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori, ostensibly to the deputies to General Convention 2012, but is useful for everyone to begin to think and pray about what sorts of structures are useful in nurturing mission and ministry in our multicultural, postmodern context and which are either less useful or, worse, actually choke off the Spirit's work in and through us.

I'm glad that we're having this conversation. While I don't think maintenance and mission are mutually exclusive, a balance between the two would seem a necessary prerequisite to effective ministry in today's fluid and networked world. I am aware, however, that there is a temptation to overcompensate by simply getting rid of nearly all structures in the name of freedom of ministry. I don't really think that is a great idea, either. The Episcopal Church has a sense of order and a Benedictine value of stability within its DNA. While some of the structures might tend to be stifling, other (such as the ordination and disciplinary canons mentioned in the video) have their place if properly applied. I don't think anyone wants to go back to the days when the "ordination process" was merely a nice chat with one's bishop, with little involvement from others nor a disciplinary process that involved an uncomfortable conversation with that same bishop and then a quiet resolution to the issue. Generally transparency and communal discernment are to be commended.

That said, it makes complete sense to ask the question: "Why are we spending over half of our financial resources keeping the structures functioning?" Some of the reason is provincial--no one wants to have their department cut or committee dissolved and there is some concern that a leaner church structure is also a less democratic one. I'm not quite sure that democracy is a Gospel or biblical value, but even if it is, a denomination with less than 2 million people that has a legislature larger than the United States congress that meets every three years for a marathon legislative session seems more than a little out of balance to me.

I'm not a deputy to General Convention. I am a member of our own diocesan Standing Committee, and we also are asking questions about the structure and purpose of various ways of doing things. Like cleaning out closets, it will be an interesting process of deciding what to keep, what to throw away, and what to re-purpose.

Building a Legacy vs. Leaving a Legacy

The Rev. Bill Tully, Rector of St. Bartholomew's Church (where Julie Nelson, St. Edward's Priest Associate for Evangelism, once served) has written an excellent article in the Washington Post. Among his many keen observations, Bill stays this:

Episcopalians are the ultimate and extreme “legacy church.” No matter how committed the local rector is to change, no matter how deft she or he is in managing it, there is a huge and nearly immovable weight of tradition. Some of it is so good that it might--rightly reinterpreted and freshened--be the way forward to real growth in size and health. But it takes a lot of energy. We almost inevitably tilt backward for every step and a half we take forward.

I would very much agree. The very thing that is the most distinctive about the Episcopal Church--our stability--is also what makes it difficult for us to change. I've likened the Episcopal Church to a battleship or an aircraft carrier: incredibly difficult to sink, but also very difficult to turn! Unfortunately, the navy stopped making battleships years ago and the only thing that keeps aircraft carriers from going the same way is that they carry nimble and highly mobile aircraft. To continue the metaphor, evangelical mega-churches are aircraft carriers, Episcopal congregations are battleships. Both exist in an era when fast patrol boats seem much more suited to the way things need to be.

I have no real interest in leading The Church of What's Happening Now--a place that uncritically reacts to the current fashion and "felt needs" of the surrounding culture. Just troll around the Internet and you'll find a whole range of programs that are guaranteed to grow churches. In contrast to fashion, tradition is an excellent anchor in the midst of a cultural storm, holding us fast to the things that are important. However, tradition in and of itself is not enough. Tully goes on to say:

Bishop Budde of Washington is absolutely right about concentrating on the meat and potatoes of local congregational life: worship, music, compelling preaching, education, pastoral care. Taking stands on issues at the national level (where few people pay attention to us any longer) might be satisfying, but we’ve just about spent ourselves doing that.

That's what we're in the process of re-creating at St. Edward's: a place with vibrant worship, quality music, compelling preaching, a variety of educational offerings, and many ways of caring for others and being cared for as well. That kind of tradition is worth building on! The difficulty lies when we concentrate so much on leaving a legacy for "future generations" that we end up building and sustaining museums of ancient faith rather than concentrating on building a legacy alongside those right outside our doors that may not worship in the same way we are used to doing, but have a deep (perhaps even unnoticed) love of ritual, a more progressive theology, and a need for community. Building is challenging, but do-able!

Fear and Leadership

In an organizational culture where respect and the dignity of individuals are held as the highest values, shame and blame don’t work as management styles. There is no leading by fear. --Brene Brown 

The above is just a portion of a brief, but excellent, blog post regarding the recent Penn State scandal. Her point is that any organization can create a culture that either fosters respect and accountability or fear and denial. Organizations that do the former are healthier, dynamic, and ultimately more successful organizations, though they are often not as outwardly peaceful as those that thrive on shame and blame. This is no less true of the church--churches where both staff and members actively engage in conversation with one another out of respect for "the dignity of every human being" (as our Baptismal Covenant says) may not look as peaceful or contented, but they are healthier, more dynamic places to be. Churches that enforce a kind of false peace based on shame and blame ultimately either slowly burn out or explode as individuals either take advantage of the system or our victimized by those who do.

There is a lot of fear around these days, both in the world and in the church. Both infrastructure and institutions built by previous generations seem to be disintegrating at an alarming rate. More and more people are feeling disenfranchised, cut off from any say in virtually any aspect of their lives. The Penn State scandal is but the latest in an unending parade of exposing the reality behind people and programs we thought we could trust. In a blog post by Thomas Day, he writes:

Think of the world our parents’ generation inherited. They inherited a country of boundless economic prosperity and the highest admiration overseas, produced by the hands of their mothers and fathers. They were safe. For most, they were endowed opportunities to succeed, to prosper, and build on their parents’ work. For those of us in our 20s and early 30s, this is not the world we are inheriting.

Day, at 31, was born in 1980, placing him on the cusp between Generation X and the Millennial generation. He lays the blame for this collapse on the leaders that the Baby Boomers have brought us--the logical extension of a generation that shunned institutions at the same time as they benefited from them. It is apparently our generation's sad duty to inform our children (millennials and those younger) that the American Dream is dead, the emperor has no clothes, and that the Great and Powerful Oz of the optimistic Boomer generation is no more than a lucky, grumpy old man.

Sadly, many people, both within and outside the church, leave things there--in despair, at Good Friday, if you will. But we repeat over and over again that we are "Easter people," not stuck in the tomb of death but partaking of resurrection life. That is not some sort of "put on a happy face" Christianity. No, it acknowledges the reality of death, but asserts that such is not the end of the story. The reality of resurrection means that we can take a hard, deep, penetrating look at the world around us, name clearly the things which are not right about it, and then partner with God in the redemption of our broken, disintegrating, world. The challenge, of course, is actually adopting and living into an attitude of "realistic optimism" that sees things for what they are, but also for what they should and can be. And we need leaders, both within and outside the church, who are willing to be foolish and risk-taking enough to move forward in hope rather than allowing us to linger in despair.

By the grace of God, may I be one of them!

"Uncle Steve" Jobs

Steve Jobs 1955-2011

Much has been said and written about Steve Jobs after his death this past Wednesday. Having never known him personally, never even having worked at Apple, the only connection I have to him is as an Apple customer and stockholder. That said, many of my contemporaries and I feel almost as if we've lost a beloved but distant uncle. Growing up in Silicon Valley, the legend of Apple's first first "run" with the Apple II and Macintosh is eclipsed only by the legend of the rebirth of Apple with the iMac, iPod, iPhone, and iPad. I was still a small child when Johs graduated from the high school just south of the one I would attend a decade later, but I hit middle school about the time the Apple II emerged and I well recall the sheer joy of using a computer with color, speed (for its time), and floppy disks rather than cassette tapes.

So, in many ways, Steve Jobs was the author of my childhood obsession with computers. Perhaps that is why I and others of my generation mourn his passing so much.  The passion he brought to technology, the conviction that technology not only could but would change the world, is one that he lived out with single-minded determination.

This is not to say that Jobs was a saint. At least one blogger has some very pointed criticism of him, much of it on target. He was often ruthless in his pursuit of excellence. His desire to see his biography published so that "my kids will know me better" signals that, like many in Silicon Valley, he had the tendency to prioritize job over family. However, his genius for designing technology that people could (and did) fall in love with is unmatched in modern-day America. His famous commencement address at Stanford University ranks among the best ever.

Though I didn't know him, I use Apple technology almost every minute of every day. I wake up to the alarm from my iPhone, check my calendar on that same iPhone, work every day on a MacBook Pro, use my iPad to watch videos and read books, and pretty much just love Apple products with a passion. I hope that I can increasingly take this passion and "can do" spirit into my job as a clergy leader as well.

Back to blogging: Ecclesiastical Antibodies

After essentially taking the summer off from blogging, I'm back with fingers to keyboard. As Summer turns to Fall, I've been thinking a lot about change. At St. Edward's, where I continue to serve as Priest-in-Charge, we've absorbed more than our fair share of changes in my almost two years here. What is interesting is looking at corporations who also are confronted with such changes.

In an article today by Philip Elmer-Dewitt, he talks about a recent podcast by Horace Dediu. In the article, Elmer-Dewitt quotes Dediu as saying the following:

There's a phrase I like to use: "the corporate antibodies." These are things inside the company, as an organism, if you will. These are entities -- be they people or budgets or processes or rules in binders. These are things that are designed to eat up innovation. To eat up changes to the core business. Not because they are stupid. But they see this newcomer, this entrant, as a pathogen. As something that's damaging the organism. So they act, sometimes even collude, to destroy it.

Dediu goes on to draw a contrast between computer giant Hewlett-Packard (which recently gave up on its tablet computer and signaled that it is getting out of the PC market as well) and Apple (maker of the most popular tablet computer). Dediu's point, reiterated by Elmer-Dewitt, is that for innovation to take hold in an organization, the people promoting it have to be protected from the "corporate antibodies" that are out to destroy them, preferably protected by the CEO him/herself. Jobs tried to do that with the Macintosh, and was forced out of Apple by the "Apple II" forces. As fascinating as this is, one quote of Dediu at the end of the article really caught my eye:

[A certain innovation needed] this kind of champion at the very highest levels, someone who could endure the gestation for a long period of time. And that type of person is so rare as a CEO. Which is part of the mystique and magic of Steve Jobs. He's the only one that we know of  really that is able to do these types of schizophrenic things -- like maintain a sustaining business and its disruption within the same organization.

"Maintain a sustaining business and its disruption within the same organization." When I read that, it suddenly struck me: "That's what we are trying to do in the church!" We're trying to respond to the needs of a post-Christian world with new and innovative things that, more often than not, get "killed off" by "ecclesiastical antibodies" trying to preserve our "sustaining business." Developing something new alongside that, often referred to as "parallel development" is, in reality, trying to "maintain a sustaining business and its disruption within the same organization." That's really hard to do! The fact that one of the most compelling images of the church is the Body of Christ makes this metaphor even more apropos!

What this says to me in my ministry is that if I want to be a church leader that fosters and nurtures innovation, I have to be willing to protect it from ecclesiastical antibodies. I also have to be willing and strong enough to at least make the attempt to maintain what is and what may be its polar opposite in the same organization, the church. I think I'll sit with that for a while. This is even more timely on the recent news that Steve Jobs has resigned as CEO of Apple.

Is it well with my soul?

As the church program year winds down and makes way for Summer, time and permission are given to all of us for a bit of reflection. Since this Fall will mark two years of my tenure as Priest-in-Charge of St. Edward's, and since we're in the midst of both a diocesan and parish strategic planning process, there have been reasons stacked upon reasons for such reflection. While I've begun the parish part of that reflection on the parish blog, it seems like at least some account (on this blog) of my personal reflections is warranted.

In my daily Facebook trolling, I came across this list of 10 Ways to Boost Spiritual Health. I recognize a number of spiritual disciplines--personal worship, journaling, prayer, personal (rather than simply professional) bible study--that I recall doing with much more faithfulness when I was in college and had newly discovered a more personal relationship with God in Christ. Like getting enough exercise and eating right, sometimes living life accidentally or on spiritual inertia can sneak up on a person. A good reminder.

As I read that "fitness list," I recalled another bit of wisdom shared by Brian McLaren, author of "Naked Spirituality" in his address at the 187th Commencement of Virginia Theological Seminary (my alma mater). He strongly encouraged the graduates (and, by extension, we alumni and friends) to guard and grow four friendships: with ourselves, with soul friends, with non-Christians, and with God. As McLaren said "it is sometimes difficult for those of us who are paid to be good to simply be good for nothing." Sometimes being a "professional Christian" gets in the way of simply being an intentional follower of Jesus Christ.

As I move through this summer of discernment, a big piece of my discernment is to look at where I have allowed my professional life to take over my personal life--in my relationship with my family and friends but also in crowding out hobbies and other things I do just because I like doing them. A good discipline for anyone, I'd say.

If love wins...share it!

Nearly two months since my last post, I'm finally crawling out from underneath the pile of tasks on my plate (the pile of stuff on my desk is another matter...!) and have been giving some more serious thought to the shape of the twenty-first century church. There have been several items that have come across my screen lately that have caused me to pause and think more deeply. As you will note on the "Blogs I'm Following" list on the right, I follow the blog of Rachel Held Evans,  a self-proclaimed "writer, skeptic, and Christ-follower" whose reflections I've really enjoyed reading she recently appeared on an episode of Darkwood Brew, a "groundbreaking experimental web television program and Christian worship service" located in a coffeehouse in the Midwest.  After listening to that interview, and then going to the Darkwood Brew web site, I also happened upon an interview that they had done with Diana Butler Bass, who happens to have just come to the Diocese of El Camino Real a couple of weeks ago to talk about twenty-first century spirituality. Having recently published a book entitled A People's History of Christianity, she talked about the blend of spirituality and religiosity that is coming to dominate church and society in this second decade of the twenty-first century.

Both Rachel and Diana's interviews were a part of Darkwood Brew's series based upon Rob Bell's book Love Wins. The questioning title of the series is "If love wins, what now?" In both interviews, the point is made that the "orthodox" concept of, and concentration on, hell as a fiery place of eternal torment  is actually one born out of the Roman Emperor Constantine's fascination and obsession with the power of God to vanquish his enemies. Prior to that time, the Christian church was primarily focused on visions of heaven. If they even spared it a thought, hell was simply the place that was not heaven. It is when God's power is bound to earthly war and violence that hell becomes a punishment for enemies and unbelievers.

All of this is swirling around in my mind this morning as I contemplate this Sunday's lesson from the book of Acts, where (among other things, including ""It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.") Jesus says "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." That power is not presented as the power to coerce belief, but the power to witness to God's work in the world.

I'm also conscious, as I click from one thing to another online, that people have plenty of opportunity to find out information about Christianity, of whatever flavor. I found all of the above from initially being directed to Rachel Held Evans' blog via (I think...) a Facebook posting. From there, I found Darkwood Brew, and from there I found Diana Butler Bass, who I had just seen in person and who had greeted me almost as an old friend, though we had only been Facebook friends until then. It strikes me that the "witness" that we bring is not primarily a witness of information, but a witness of re-creation and restoration--that God is constantly in the midst of re-creating and restoring this world in partnership with us. That sort of witness is worth sharing!

"Contempervent" Worship

Many months ago I saw a video poking fun at so-called "contemporary worship" and have been searching for that video ever since. Today, it crossed my Facebook page, so here it is:



I do like songs that I hear on radio stations like K-LOVE, but I recognize the temptation to let the means of conveying the message of the Gospel become the Gospel itself. This is no less of a danger for more liturgical churches. Everyone has the temptation to say "It isn't worship if ____ isn't included." So, enjoy the humor but also get the point.

Government Involvement, Personal Freedom, and God's Purposes

OK, I'm going to go out on a limb here and post something more political. Fee free to skip if you wish. I'm one of that rare breed: a moderate Republican. Even rarer, I'm a Republican for Obama. I'm certainly not rare in that I'm (obviously) a Christian as well as a Republican. I do believe in limited government and that, in many cases, government has overstepped its original mandate to "establish justice, ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, [and] insure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity..." (constitutional preamble). Just because a law can be passed or a program can be funded doesn't mean that it should.

That being said, I'm increasingly feeling like my fellow Republicans are using the current state and federal fiscal crises as a "license to kill" any program that they've wanted to do away with for years for ideological reasons, regardless of its costs and benefits. A perfect example is the program whose board I sit on--Live Oak Adult Day Services. It is a program that provides care for seniors who would otherwise need constant care from relatives or would be relegated to nursing homes. From a fiscal point of view this is a complete no-brainer: the support that government entities, foundations, and individual contributors give to this program is infinitesimal compared to the amount of money saved by allowing caregivers who would otherwise need to stay home with these folks the opportunity to work, by keeping these seniors out of (often Medicare-funded) nursing homes, and delaying the need for (often expensive) in-home care. If you look at the cost/benefit analysis, this program work and has good "bang for the buck". Yet cities that are strapped for cash are having a hard time finding even the limited funds now used to support the program. The key words here? It isn't a mandated program.  Other things are.

The whole problem with the personal freedom vs. government involvement debate can be illustrated on any public school playground. Left to themselves, people will generally act in their own short-term self interest. They will spend money now rather than wait and perhaps have to spend less later. They will not think about what they might need 5, 10, 20, or even 1 or 2 years out. Government exists, then to "promote the general welfare" by mandating that we take care of each other and of the instituions that will (God willing) take care of us when needed. Government funds alternative energy not because it is cheaper now than fossil fuels (although we're getting there, on both sides of that equation) but because it is in our long-term interest to develop alternative sources of energy. Government mandates energy efficiency (like increasingly efficient light bulbs) because we cannot sustain our current rate of energy consumption over the long term. Government funds programs like senior care, schools, and other service not because it has nothing else to do with the money, it does so because we need those institutions, either now for ourselves, our children, our parents, or our friends, their children and/or parents, or for us when we get to whatever stage in life that requires such services.

On the flip side, my fellow Republicans appear to have absolutely no problem continuing, even expanding, tax breaks for wealthy individuals and corporations, some of whom have even said that they don't need them! If "no government involvement" is good policy for social services, why isn't it good policy for corporate subsidies and tax breaks? The double standard is stunning.

OK, enough ranting. My hope and prayer (and it seems like more of a prayer than a hope) is that we will elect (and re-elect) those folks who are willing and able to rise above partisanship, to cut spending on or fix programs that are ineffective, to "promote the general welfare" by taking care of the most vulnerable folks around is (and, equally important, help them to help themselves), and "insure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity (i.e. future generations)" by tackling and solving major problems before our entire social and governmental fabric collapses--which seems increasingly likely as the days and weeks go on.

What does all of this have to do with God, one might ask. God allows us to make our own choices in this world. God also works through both individuals and institutions to accomplish God's purposes. God is especially concerned with the plight of the poor and powerless and has very little concern for the rich and powerful, except to warn them that their wealth and power are fleeting and are to be used for good and not for selfish ends. To say a policy or law is "Christian" that does not align with that concern for the poor and responsibility of the rich means one is being extremely selective in their Bible reading. No, we don't have unlimited funds or unlimited energy. We do have to make choices. May they be choices that are both in our long-term interest and also reflect God's concern for those without a seat a the table.

Beautiful Music

As we finish out the week of St. Patrick's Day, I thought I'd pass along a particularly great video clip from Celtic Woman, the musical group made famous by their appearance on PBS. Sure, they're a little over-produced, but their voices are angelic and the songs are fabulous. So, enjoy!

Vunerability and Radical Welcome

Another colleague of mine (as one of my seminary professors used to say "I am not original.") recently highlighted the following talk by Dr. Brene Brown discussing the necessity for vulnerability in our lives. Take a look:



This dovetails with the talk about Radical Welcome from The Rev. Stephanie Spellers at our clergy conference a couple of weeks ago. At that conference, she invited us to share with one other person two experiences: an experience of being unwelcome and an experience of being welcome. In the midst of that, I realized that my entire ministry has been about creating and nurturing community--a place where people feel welcome and connected. A place, frankly, where people can be free to be vulnerable and admit their imperfections.

Frankly, and highly ironically, the church often makes this difficult. One would think that a faith tradition that is founded on the paradox of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ would be the most welcoming to imperfect, shameful, vulnerable people. Instead, we've put ourselves out there as perfect people who have it together and just need a little touch-up or polish on Sunday mornings. Our perhaps unintentional message is that you are welcome to come to church if you are certain of what you believe, your life is nearly perfect, and you can navigate your way around a church service pretty easily.

I seriously doubt anyone qualifies to come to church under those restrictions.

Few people are certain of what they believe, and the ones that are most certain are often the most resistant to growing in their faith and understanding. Few people's lives qualify as anything close to perfect, especially in the world we live in today. Few people who have not grown up in the church have any idea what to do and when to do it.

So where does that leave me as a pastor and priest and St. Edward's as a congregation? It means that we need to be intentional about creating a place where anyone, doubter, seeker, or curious visitor, can explore the Christian faith. We need to be explicit that our church is a  place where you don't need to be perfect to walk in the door. We need to be helpful to those people who enter our doors for the first time so that they can be participants and not just spectators in our services. Finally, we need to proclaim far and wide that we're doing this, we're going to repeatedly fail at it, but we're going to keep trying.

Ministry of The Word and Sacrament

One of my colleagues passed this along to me:



Walter Brueggemann is arguably one of the primary movers and shakers in the theological world today. His critique, sparked by a conversation with a rabbi, that we as preachers spend the bulk of our time engaged in everything but preaching or preparing for preaching, and end up devoting a few remaining hours in our week after we've exhausted ourselves with other things, strikes a little too close to home for comfort. My desk is currently strewn not with books, articles, and sermon drafts, but with catalogs, various pieces of mail, budget drafts, and various other items primarily having to do with administration and the day-to-day minutia of running a religious non-profit corporation that happens to be a church. And, yes, I generally do not get to serious sermon preparation until later in the week, occasionally even sitting in front of a computer screen on Saturday evening finishing up what I'm going to say the next morning!

That fact sparks in me a thought about the different names that we're called as ordained ministers: pastors (means "shepherd"), priests (not very much anymore), ministers (though much more ministry is done by the many church members serving in the community), and (in my case) "Father" (which places the priest in the role as "father" of the church "family", which is often less than helpful). I know if few, if any, times in which I've been referred to as "preacher"--and yet that is a key part of what I do each week: speak God's words to God's people. My ordination vows place as one my primary tasks the "ministry of Word and Sacrament", by which is primarily meant preaching and administering the sacraments. Those two tasks do not seem to have the same urgency during the week as the "running the shop" tasks do, nor are preachers generally rewarded or given points for reading and studying. If a church member or board member asks a pastor "What are you up to today?" and receives the answer "Well, doing a lot of reading and some prayer" it sounds almost as if he or she is taking a vacation! That is because most people work at jobs that not only don't require much study (and zero prayer) but often preclude study and prayer. Thus, the often unconscious reaction for most folks is "Wow, I wish that I could get paid to sit around and read and pray!"

The fact is, however, that we our primary calling is feeding the flock of Christ. Jesus' first post-resurrection commission to Peter was "feed my sheep." Putting aside the comparison of church members to sheep, as preachers and pastors we cannot give what we do not have. If we have not studied and prayed, we will give shallow, largely meaningless sermons that do not even come close to satisfying the spiritual hunger that God places in each one of us. Perhaps we need to take more seriously the rabbinical side of our calling--to be the teacher and the scholar.

One of the things that I hope and plan to do this year is to get a bit more focus on my preaching--both by setting aside more time for preparation and by focusing my continuing education funds and time on honing those skills. Preaching is one of my gifts. Administration is not. However, since others can do administration but not as many can do preaching, it makes sense to hone my strengths rather than attempting to shore up my weak areas.

2010: A Church Odyssey

As the first decade of the new millennium comes to a close, there will be innumerable "top 10" lists, retrospectives, and even a few forecasts for the future. For myself, 2010 saw me complete my first year as Priest-in-Charge of St. Edward's, move into the Rectory (cutting my commute from 40 minutes to 40 seconds, as I like to say), and launch our new two-service Sunday morning schedule. It also saw us make some significant beginnings in addressing long-deferred maintenance on both our buildings and our programs. Sadly, the year ended with a decision to close the preschool we've been sponsoring for more than seven years. In many ways if feels a lot like the Rectory looked in early August halfway through the renovation--lots of potential, but lots of mess and a lot of work to do!

I think that is perhaps my chief reflection on my own ministry this year--a sense of digging into everything, clearing away accumulated stuff, and really getting a sense of the challenges ahead for me and for this church. These challenges are by no means unique to St. Edward's! We recently completed an Advent series where we invited my colleague and former Interim Rector here at St. Edward's, the Reverend John Buenz, to talk to us about "What's happening in our world?" and to suggest some trends worth watching. While there are many, the bottom line is that the era of the Christendom-based institutional church that simply opens its doors and welcomes the hordes of people clamoring to enter is finally dead after decades of decline. Few people not already in church are waking up on Sunday morning with the idea "Hey, I really need to find a great church to attend this morning!" The beauty of our buildings and our liturgy is lost on those who would never think of walking in the door.

As I've been reflecting upon this, and upon the spiritual hunger that still permeates our culture, I've come to one conclusion that seems pretty obvious: It's all about Jesus. What I mean by that is that it is not all about the church for the church's sake, but the church for Christ's sake. The purpose of the church, if one cuts through all of the flowery and perhaps overly theological language, is to introduce people to a life-changing relationship with Jesus Christ, to facilitate the growth of that relationship by linking them with fellow spiritual pilgrims, and to equip them to express that relationship in the world in word and deed. Period.

That purpose is why I do what I do as Priest-in-Charge. That's why we gather on Sunday morning. That's why I just spent a couple of hours choosing hymns for our 8:30 a.m. service for the next two months. That's why we keep the lights on, the rooms heated, and the roof fixed. That's why we invest money in both buildings and programs. That's why we close down programs--not to save money per se, but because we believe that God is calling us in a new direction best served in a different way. It isn't all about the church, it's all about Jesus. In 2011, St. Edward's will no doubt focus on the question: "What can we do, as St. Edward's Episcopal Church in San Jose, California, to better introduce people to Jesus, disciple them to maturity in their faith, and send them out as witnesses to the world?" In working out the answer to this question, I have the able assistance of our new Priest Associate for Evangelism, the Reverend Julie Nelson. I look forward to that process of discovery!

As the church considers how to make real its own mission, I will also be thinking about what can I do as Priest-in-Charge to both model that and help it happen. Certainly one aspect of that will be to revive my own journey of discovery of Jesus, discipleship, and service in Christ's name. The institutional church often imposes a heavy administrative burden that can distract clergy from tending their spiritual life, and I have found that to be true for me in 2010. So, as St. Edward's discovers its spiritual heart, I will be re-discovering mine as well.  Stay tuned....

Church: Closed Castle or Open Community?

In this twenty-first century, post-Christian, post-modern world, the church is having to re-assess how it relates to the world around it. Phyllis Tickle wrote a book about this, entitled The Great Emergence, in which she advanced the idea that the church and the world go through these massive paradigm shifts every 500 years--in the time of Jesus at the turn of millennium, at 500 C.E with the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, in 1000 C.E. with (among other things) the Great Schism between Eastern and Western Christianity, in 1500 C.E. with the Protestant Reformation, and now in the post 2000 C.E. time with post-Modernism and the information age.

One interesting commentary on how we interact with the world is a recent article which asks the church to "stop policing the borders of Christianity." The author's point is that Christianity is more interested in maintaining purity than in growing community. This is the old "be in the world but not of the world" conundrum--how does one prevent becoming indistinguishable from the world while still following Jesus, who "took the form of a servant," literally incarnating God on earth? This is a significant challenge, as the prevailing attitude about Christians is that we're "not of this world" in all of the wrong ways--that we're more judgmental, rigid, and unloving than the world around us! Yet as the world becomes yet more polarized, we have a prime opportunity to express what Christianity is, not just what it is not. This risk-taking, get-your-hands-dirty, earthy Christianity is precisely what Jesus modeled for us. He ate with people with whom he shouldn't have been sharing a table, touched people who were unclean, and generally eschewed purity in favor of one-on-one interactive love for all people.

This does not mean that Jesus wasn't interested in how people lived their lives. He repeatedly points out sin when he encounters it, but he doesn't do so by shouting down from the ramparts of the holier-than-thou castle, he does so as he interacts with real people, with real problems, in real situations. In fact, Jesus has some rather harsh things to say about the religious authorities of the day who require high standards of purity from others and who, while ritually pure, have some serious problems with the "love your neighbor as yourself" commandment.

As we enter the twenty-first century, one of the biggest trends in the church is moving from a buildings-based, "mighty fortress" mentality of us against the world to a risk-taking, get dirty, work among folks, community-building mentality. It may not be as visually impressive, and it is certainly a lot more risky, but it is perhaps a truer version of the Gospel then all of the stained glass we have. The challenge is to turn these buildings from sanctuaries from the world for Christians into sanctuaries from the wold for everyone.

The Heart of the Church

Ever since the fire at the VTS Chapel a week ago, I've been thinking about the nature of this thing we call the church. Fr. Tim Schenck points out in his blog, the chapel was and is the heart of the seminary, so the heart of both the seminary and the people that have found a home there, is wounded. Adding to that thinking process has been the recent dust-up at Executive Council regarding the remarks of the Presiding Bishop regarding the need to change the way the church is governed. We are also in the very beginning stages of putting some flesh on the bones (perhaps appropriate for Halloween!) of the vision and mission that we have discerned for St. Edward's. Now, the question becomes: What do we actually want to do? What is the heart of who we are as a church and how do we communicate that?

Whether one is planting a church or re-planting one, as we are, there is the perennial question: What kind of church do we want to be and how do we live that out in what we do? I've blogged about those issues with respect to St. Edward's, but I'm also doing some personal reflection as well. I'm a 42 year old man, raised in both the church and in Silicon Valley, married for almost two decades, and with two children. In many ways, I'm exactly the kind of person that the church--any church--most wants to attract and keep. Somewhat ironically, my own position as Priest-in-Charge at St. Edward's is at least partially dependent on attracting and keeping people like me. The question then becomes, what do I want in a church and what would cause me to come, join, and stay at one?

Others are thinking of this as well. George Bullard wrote a recent article about the "back door" of churches, or why newcomers that are warmly welcomed at the front door, slip out the "back door" and leave the church within a year. He writes about the need for people to "make attendance a habit," by which he means attend between 39 and 42 Sundays a year (in this modern, mobile culture). He also suggests that people need to be given the opportunity to get connected with a small group or Sunday School class, to develop deep relationships (some of which hopefully have predated their arrival at church), and to "get to work"--becoming actively involved with a ministry of the church.

After reading that article and reflecting on my own situation, it strikes me that the biggest challenge I have with being a Christian is one that I'm sure I share with others my age--the fact that I have both very limited time and the fact that the pace of the world is frantic enough that it often seems to preclude opportunities for deep prayer, introspection, and relationship-building. I haven't personally been in a small prayer and sharing group for more than eight years, and while I pray and study the Bible as a professional, it is also true that I sometimes come to the end of the day without having had a personal time of prayer and study. Obviously, involvement in a ministry of the church is not a problem!

What it boils down to for me, and, I suspect, for my contemporaries, is that the church needs to both offer the opportunities for relationship-building (with God and with others), be very clear and obvious that it is doing precisely and intentionally that, and convince people like me that it is worth my time to set some aside in order to take advantage of those opportunities. We are not a service club, a college, or a restaurant. We don't simply offer volunteer opportunities for their own sake, teaching for its own sake, or serve food (unless you count either bread and wine or the occasional potluck!). What we do offer, at our best, is a relationship with God and others that is potentially transformational. Hopefully we can communicate that!

The Loss of the VTS Chapel

Today at 3:55 p.m EST (12:55 p.m. my time) the chapel at Virginia Theological Seminary, my alma mater, burned to the ground. While it is true that it appears as merely bricks and mortar, the chapel  has been a special place ever since it was built 129 years go.  All of the usual things are thought and said--"it was only a building," they will rebuild," and "thank God no one was hurt." All are true. However, they do not lessen the sadness I feel on this night. Unlike some others, I was neither married nor ordained in that chapel. Yet I spent three years praying there each day in the fourth pew back on the right-hand side, looking at all of the memorial plaques from those who had gone before, listening to the organ, and allowing the decades of history to seep into my soul. The chapel is literally a shell of its formal self now, and I grieve its loss.

Visionary Leadership vs. Cult of Personality (updated)

UPDATE: I just ran across the following video presentation on Steve Jobs and Apple Computer. It has a lot to say about the cult of personality verses a culture of vision:



One of the things I struggle with in my own ministry is how proactive to be in my leadership. I've seen (mostly evangelical) churches where the pastor (or, sometimes, the pastor and his wife) are front and center in advertisements and promotional materials, and it is very clear that this is "Pastor X's Church." Among the many difficulties with that is that when the pastor moves on or, God forbid, has some moral failing, that loss has an incredibly huge impact on the congregation, much more so than it might if the pastor were just another staff member. How do you have Pastor X's Church without Pastor X? On the other side, it is quite clear that the pastor of any church has enormous impact in all areas of church life--spiritual, financial, programming, etc... Leadership does matter, and as much as we talk about delegating authority and broadening our leadership base, someone has to be the point person and say "We're going THERE!" Committees don't do that nearly as well as a single individual.

The other issue with a single leader versus a shared leadership model is the cognitive dissonance that people go through. On the one hand, people crave clarity and stability and so are often happy to follow a leader who is self-assured and at least appears to have a good grasp on things. On the other hand, there is a deep distrust in our country of people with any sort of power. We can see it at work in our national politics, with the warnings of people "taking over" or "ramming things through." We seem to be intellectually more comfortable with distributed power and shared leadership, but our hearts know what our brains often forget--there is no substitute for a clear vision and direction and a visionary leader to cast that vision and support it.

As we enter October, the church moves from the rush of the beginning of the program year to thinking about what is variously called stewardship season, the Fall Pledge Drive, or any number of other names. It is a time when we quite literally ask people to buy into a vision, to support it with both their money and their time. The more specific and compelling that vision is, presumably the easier it is to achieve such buy-in. Yet this is not my church, it is God's church and the congregation can do far more collectively than I can do individually. So we are back to the conundrum--do we make the pastor the focus in the interest of having a more focused vision or do we have a more distributed leadership in the interest of sharing power and inviting more participation? Like anything else, it is a delicate dance...

Keeping Balance in the Midst of Transitions

As many are aware, I'm in the midst of a family transition at the same time as my parish is in the midst of a programmatic one. Early this month, we moved in to church-owned housing from our temporary housing where we had been since October. On the positive side, my commute is substantially shorter, and we're all settling in to the neighborhood well. On the negative side, it still has that "this isn't our house" vibe, mostly because it is so new and we haven't moved all of our things in yet, much less put up pictures and done other things to personalize it. Ironically, it seems more temporary than our temporary housing seemed! I know that will pass, but it is nonetheless disquieting.

At the same time, St. Edward's has embarked on a new journey--a two-service schedule. At 8:30 a.m. we have a traditional Rite I (Elizabethian English) communion service with hymns. At 10 a.m. we have a Rite II (modern English) service with contemporary music. We have had great success with both so far, with a combined attendance last Sunday of 63 people! At the same time, there are always issues when something new comes about, not the least of which is that I'm needing to get back some balance in my own life as both my family and I settle in to our new house and the parish settles in to our new schedule.

Hence the reason I'm blogging on what used to be my day off--I've decided to take Mondays as an "Administration and Study Day" and make Fridays my day of the week off. Hopefully, that will mean more time and energy for my family as I close the door of the office on Thursday evening and don't re-open it until Sunday morning. With my office and home so much closer, maintaining boundaries becomes both much more difficult and much more important as well.

So, after this brief foray into personal blogging, my plan is to do some prayer and study for a while and see where God takes me!

Run-up to Fall: On the Lookout for God

I've checked this blog often (it serves as the "menu" for blogs I'm following) but haven't really felt moved to commit any thoughts to a post, and now summer is almost over and nothing has been written here since the beginning of summer! Perhaps that is appropriate, as summer is generally regarded as the season in which we step back from our hectic pace, take time to relax, and step away from the busyness of life.

That is decidedly not the description of my summer! Summer here at St. Edward's has been spent in a flurry of reorganizations, upgrades, and various events large and small. Our preschool is in the process of undergoing a re-start as "Roots and Wings Christian Preschool," the Rectory is in the final week or so of a complete renovation, the trees around the property have been cut back, and I am laboring in these final weeks of summer to finalize the selection of a worship leader in preparation for the launch of our new service schedule on September 5! All of this, while other more mundane things continue to happen--40 to 50 people show up and worship together on Sunday mornings, tithes and offerings come in, bills are received and paid, and the normal everyday business of church is accomplished.

It is in that context that I find myself keeping an eye out for God's presence. I'm finishing up Sara Miles' first book entitled Take This Bread, in which she recounts her experience of coming to faith in Christ through being offered a piece of bread at the communion table at St. Gregory of Nissa Episcopal Church in San Francisco, California--just up the highway from here. Though she takes a decidedly non-traditional route to faith, she makes some good points about looking for God in the mundane, the everyday, and especially in mundane, everyday, flawed human beings. So, I'm keeping a lookout....!