Dead or Alive… #reverb10

In March of this year, my mom’s whole family traveled to Hawaii together.  It’s not the first time we have made the trip and it certainly won’t be the last.  It is sort of an extended family reunion that happens every few years – all beginning when I was only five years old!

Our time is spent mainly on the island of Oahu and we have seen quite a bit of that area!   Two years ago, however, we learned about a hike we had never attempted before: a trail up the back side of Koko Head Crater.

My brothers and my husband and I were determined that this spring, we were going to do that hike.

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)

Now, for a little background information.  We had been told that this particular hike was a bit more difficult than some of the other ones we had accomplished – like Diamond Head Crater.  But we weren’t quite aware of how much more difficult it actually would be!

Our first problem was that we got on the wrong bus.  We could see the crater rising up in the distance ahead of us and knew where we were trying to get (kind of), and thought we knew how to get there.  The only problem was, the bus we hopped on didn’t go the direction we thought it was supposed to on that particular day.  So we got off at what looked like a close location and decided to hoof it the rest of the way to the park outside the crater.

We dressed appropriately for climbing… tanks and shorts, carrying the only id’s and money we needed in our little camera pouch.  My brother had enough foresight to purchase a huge bottle of water.  Our tennis shoes were broken in.  We were ready.

And so we walked.  And walked.  And walked.  I think we must have covered a good mile and a half before we eventually found our way through the residential neighborhood to the small little park at the base of the crater.  And then we had to walk some more to get to the trail.  And then, we stopped to look up.

Looming before us was the straightest, steepest path I had ever seen in my life.  But it had stairs… how hard could it be?

I think I made it to the first light pole of the 15 that were on the side of the mountain and I wanted to die.  My thighs ached.  I was breathing hard.  My face was flush.  Seriously, was I really that out of shape?

I made it two more and thought I might actually die.

I made it to the halfway point and gave up.  For about a minute.  And then my husband and my brother made me go ahead of them so that they could keep pushing me on and let me set the pace.

We stopped and rested.  We breathed in deep.  We let the hot sun bake our skin.  And we took in the amazing views.

We went a little farther.  And then I was certain that death was imminent.  There was absolutely no way that I would make it.  At step 900 I knew I was toast.

In this time, of course, locals who used this path often went up the trail and back down again.  Young people were running it.  This one group of teenagers came jogging down, one of them riding on another’s back.  Kids were having an easier go of it than I was.

I think the moment of frustration came when we met this 60+ year old guy who did the trail three times a week.  There he went trotting his way up the crater… and there he came back down again.

I had to keep going.  My sides were aching, my lungs were heaving, but I was going to do it.
And then that moment came when I placed one foot on top of the other and actually made it to the top of the crater.
The view was phenomenal.  We could see ocean all around us – Waikiki far off in the distance – the island of Molakai barely on the horizon.  The sky was overcast, yet sunlight poured down upon us.  The ocean was deep blue and turqouise and capped with these ripples of waves as far as the eye could see.
The air was salty and clean… although that salt smell may have been my sweaty armpits.  My face was flush with exhaustion and I’m sure that I was bright red, but there at the top the sun didn’t beat down so hard and the breeze cooled our spirits.
Looking down into the lush crater below were the rich greens of a rainforest and botanical garden – such a stark contrast to the brown, dusty and scraggly trail we had just followed.  The waters of Hanauma Bay glistened like diamonds in front of us and just beyond it, we could make out the puffs of air as a group of whales swam by.
The entire world was so small and seemed a lifetime away.  It was hard to put into words just how far we had come… how my life had been transformed in moments from near death (at least in my imagination) to this glorious experience of the fullness of life.
I didn’t dare sit down, because I might never have been able to get up again.  But I drank in some of that hot and nearly empty water bottle and I stood there taking it all in.  I felt like I could accomplish anything… anything except maybe making it back down that trail.

Remembering in Five #reverb10

In a year full of ordinary days and moments and the little things that we do and quickly forget… here is to taking five minutes to capture what we shouldn’t forget.

  • snow disc golf at Lincoln Park in Belle Plaine… we bundled up and had a ton of fun romping in the snow =)  I actually shot pretty good as well!
  • my ordination… that is one thing that I probably couldn’t forget… and I’ve talked about it already in these prompts
  • our family trip to Hawaii – just being there with all of those wonderful people was amazing but there were also a few highlights of this particular trip:  Pearl Harbor with Brandon, spending some time driving on the west coast of the island, the extraordinarily difficult hike up Koko Head Crater, the ways that Brandon and DJ bonded with each other
  • our time at Lake Okoboji… lots of storms, lots of adult beverages, wind, water, and far too much food!!!

Wow – was that really only five minutes?

The time went far more quickly than I would have imagined.  If according to the prompt for today’s reverb10 post:
Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010.
There are a lot of things that I didn’t get a chance to write about. So many memories that would have slipped away.  It makes me want to do it over… to try to pack as much in as I possibly can so that I really won’t forget.
Ready: go!
  • snow disc golf
  • my ordination
  • breakfast before my ordination with the Pickens/Liles/Dawsons
  • Hawaii with the Pickens
  • Koko Head Crater
  • Pearl Harbor
  • Lake Okoboji
  • watching my neice and nephews grow up
  • putting my little nephew to sleep
  • learning to crochet
  • making three blankets for the niece and nephews
  • taking my brother to Kansas
  • “come to the table”
  • disc golfing this summer with the guys
  • our wednesday night worship service
  • planning worship with Sean for the order’s gathering
  • going to the Iowa/Penn State game with my dad
  • crock pot pizza
  • awesome carrot cake
  • painting the church fellowship hall and getting to pick all the colors
  • upgrading the church’s technology (new televisions and computer)
  • really diving into Twitter
  • Advent Blog Tour
  • my ordination hot pink and blue monkey
  • Clergy Benefits Conference
  • Roller Derby with Allison
  • our young clergy lunches
  • Ben and Kayla’s wedding (and all that it entailed!)
  • Christmas with the Pickens
  • Thanksgiving with my family and the Dawsons
  • Gma Mardell’s death/funeral

That was a bit more to include… a few more highlights and lowlights of this year.  A whole bunch of things that I had completely forgotten that were a part of this twenty-ten experience for me.  Really important things that I need to keep with me.  Thanks for the opportunity…

Taking out the Trash…#reverb10

I have not really followed the prompts for Reverb before – but from what I have caught wind of, they are daily prompts that help us to “reflect on this year and manifest what’s next.”

I could seriously use some regularly scheduled reflection in my life, so even though I am late to the party, I’m joining in.

Today’s prompt:

What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

It’s a good question.  It actually takes me back to the lectionary gospel passage from last Sunday and the announcement of John the Baptist.

“I’m baptizing you here in the river, turning your old life in for a kingdom life. The real action comes next: The main character in this drama—compared to him I’m a mere stagehand—will ignite the kingdom life within you, a fire within you, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He’s going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives. He’ll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he’ll put out with the trash to be burned.” (The Message)
Everything false, Christ will put out with the trash.  He’s making a clean sweep. Watch out clutter and mistakes and useless things.  Your time is up.

What is it in my life that needs to be cleaned out?  What can I metaphorically put out with the trash or send to the curb with the recycling?

1) Whining:  I am a whiner.  Not to most people… mostly just to my husband.  I whine about things when they aren’t going my way.  I’m going to stop.  I’m going to start appreciating what I have and not complain so much when things are tough. Lots of prayers for the fruits of the spirit to sprout in my life… a little patience, gentleness, kindness, joy, and self-control would help. Get to work Holy Spirit!

2) Grocery Shopping Hungry: I make poor food choices when I go grocery shopping when I am hungry.  I am going to work on creating a list of meals for the week and buying the appropriate food items. No more wasting money on the celery that we won’t really eat and will just go bad in the fridge.

3) The Weekly Planner on my fridge:  We don’t use it.  It takes up the whole freaking fridge. Why have something that isn’t helping?  That’s just mocking me for not doing the work to plan.

4) Baby pressure:  I just want the baby pressure to go away.  I want the questions about when and if and how soon to stop. I want my own internal biological clock to quit ticking for a bit.  I’m not sure how to get rid of it… but my life could be a bit more focused if it wasn’t around. Maybe if I simply learn to delight in other’s children and pregnancies and stop worrying so much about my own.

5) Meetings for the sake of meetings:  As the pastor, I’m going to refuse to attend a meeting that has no purpose.  I’m going to refuse to host a meeting that has no purpose.  If we don’t have things to talk about, we aren’t going to meet.  But I’m also going to work on empowering my leadership to take control of these meetings and to bring things to share…

6) Lying: I think my number one biggest temptation for sin is fibbing.  Telling a little half-truth so that I don’t hurt someone or so that I can get away with something.  We all have our weaknesses and this is mine.  My life doesn’t need it anymore.  It makes everything so much harder in the long run and it hurts people.  And it feels crappy.  No more lying in 2011… okay?

7) Days spent watching food network or any other channel for that matter: On my days off, I tend to plop down and watch silly television.  I’m not really going to cook most of that food.  There is awesome music in the world to listen to.  I could use the time to knit/crochet, write, read (which I definitely need to do more of), instead of filling my head with food and silly stories.

8) Weeks spent without talking with family:  My immediate family has not made the time to spend together this past year.  We all have our excuses and it’s not that we are having any problems or anything else.  We are just busy folks.  And I miss them.  So I’m going to make it a point to make sure I talk with each of them once a week.

9) Hesitation: I am a waffler.  I hesitate sometimes because I take the time to think about all of the angles and possibilities and how everyone will feel about a decision.  But most of the time, I hesitate because I doubt myself.  I’m going to stop hesitating and just trust myself more next year.

10) Free food: I love the fact that my parishioners love me.  I love all of the wonderful gifts they give me.  But there are many things I take home that I honestly will not eat.  Or shouldn’t eat.  And there is so much food brought to the church that goes straight to my hips.  So I am going to feel free to turn down food next year.  I’m going to make healthier decisions.  If we aren’t going to eat it, I’m going to make sure someone else gets it.  I’ll use it as an opportunity to visit a shut-in and share the bounty.  But just because it’s offered, doesn’t mean it has to come to my house.

11) Days without prayer and stillness:I let too many days start without stopping to rest in God.  In 2011 – my days will all begin in prayer and stillness.

running low on the compassion reserves

One of the reasons I have been avoiding blogging lately is because I have a lot of things I would love to write about, but I can’t.

A couple are topics and discussions that are confidential on a professional level.  Some are just things that hit too close to home for myself and I’m not willing/able to take that leap of faith and just put out there for all to read what is close to my heart.  They are things I need to deal with in person before I am able to properly reflect upon them.  Or maybe I really do just need to take that leap, get over the fear, and put it in writing.  Leave it out there and maybe that will give me the courage to have the harder face to face conversations I have been putting off.

What I am able to talk about is the touchy subject of financial outreach.

Everyone I talk to has their own take on how to best provide real financial resources to folks in need and in the past few weeks I have whittled the differences down to three categories:

1) Contributions to a community fund that pastors then refer folks to.  This method is very connectional, allows for a sharing of resources, and takes the burden off of any one congregation or pastor… especially if they are not the ones actually managing the funds.

2) Congregational “Love Funds.”  This money is held by a particular congregation, folks make donations to it and disbursement is at the discretion of the pastor.

3) Connections to outside agencies and networks of support.  This takes a lot of legwork and knowledge by the pastor to have these contacts built up in the first place when the need arises.

4) Personal time/energy/money.  Every now and then there is someone who needs a tank of gas or a meal and when we can and are able – pastors are extremely generous folks.  As a colleague wrote me:  what is needed and is it within my capacity to meet that need?  I know of a lot of folks who go above and beyond and their mental health, energy and family suffer for it… your capacity is a lot different than your wallet.

These past two months, I am realizing how small the tanks actually are when it comes to financial assisance in our area.
I recently became the treasurer for our county ministerial fund and as soon as the cold weather hit, our funds went out faster than they could replenish themselves.  We are at the point now where we can only provide assistance when we recieve a new donation, and the need really is great out there.
Our local community fund has resources, but we have limitations on how those resources can be used.  Time and energy need to go into revamping our guidelines and extending our reach… yet at the same time, as soon as we do so, I know that they will be used and gone. Used for good of course, but used all the same.
My congregational fund is not yet a separate and distinct account from the rest of our finances… I am not entirely sure how previous pastors handled the situation, but since I have been there I have budgeted for a set discretionary assistance amount.  I think we exceeded the amount budgeted halfway through the year and asked for a bit more to be set aside… but even if we had ten times the amount of money, we would still have folks we would need to turn away.
I reached the point recently where I almost cashed in my paycheck and gave half of it to someone who really needed it… I’m young, I have a roof over my head, I thought… but I also have a marriage to think of, and my own bills to pay (higher now that our own heat is turned on), and setting myself behind isn’t going to help anyone in the long run.

I felt so guilty that we couldn’t do more as a church or as a community.  I felt personally guilty.  I didn’t want to call and say no.

I think I was feeling convicted by the idea from James that if you say you will pray for someone who is hungry but don’t give them any food, then you aren’t doing anything for them.

But I think I reached a place this past week where I realized that we already were giving so much.  Even if it wasn’t the money needed to pay the bills, we were giving of our time.  We were praying.  We were listening.  We were connecting.  We were building relationships.  We were doing what we could with what we had.  And even extending ourselves beyond those points.  We were sharing the love of Christ with folks as much as we could.

Money isn’t everything.  Sometimes it feels like that, but its not.

This Sunday, we lit the first candle on the advent wreath as a reminder that the hope of the world is Christ and Christ alone.  Not a bank account.  Not a fundraiser.  Not a paid bill.  But Christ.

And things out there are tough – all around they are tough.  People are hurting because of broken relationships and they are struggling because of a lack of work and lack of funds.  They are angry with systems that fail them and they are disappointed in the outcome of their work.  And we sit and wallow in this muck and in the words of Rob Bell: yell at the darkness for being dark.

Sunday – we preached texts that told us to wake up.  To stop lingering in the dark and to look towards the light.  To remember that our salvation does not lie in these things.  To live in the light of Christ right now.  To be a community.  To walk together.  To live right now as if Christ had come again.

And when we do that… we have the strength to answer the phone call when the next creditor calls.  We have the peace in our hearts that enables us to hold the hand of a loved one and tell them goodbye one last time.  We can let go of the guilt and simply love the best we can, right here and right now.

tea and danish

I’ve blogged before about how church visitation makes my skin crawl.  It gets me all weirded out for no good reason at all.  It is one of two places that my “introverted” side really shines through – the other being the sheer exhaustion that comes over me when I finally get back home after a morning spent at church on a Sunday.

I think part of the reason visitation is so awkward for me (and not the actual visits… and not hospital visits or nursing home visits… its working up to the visit and actually arriving on the doorstep that is hard) is that I don’t want to intrude on people’s lives.  I don’t want to show up unannounced.  I don’t want to butt in.  I know lots of people who would prefer to simply be left alone.  Frankly, when someone shows up on my doorstep – even if I’m kind of expecting them – and I’m wearing my fuzzy red pajama pants and my glasses are on and my hair is hastily in a ponytail – I would rather not answer the door.  And I’m certainly not going to invite them in.

SO.

big problem if you want to be a pastor who tends the flock.

Big problem that I think I have solved.

I now invite folks to invite me over.  Or invite them to stop by.  Or invite them to let me know where/when we can meet for coffee.

I’m sending out these little postcards to folks, one chunk of the alphabet at the time.  And they have the chance to mail them back or drop them in the offering plate and give me some feedback:
Sure- come on over to my house, and here are the times that are good for me.
How about we meet for coffee or lunch somewhere?
I would love to come into the church and visit with you in your office.
Thanks for the offer, but I am not interested in a personal visit at this time.

Just making that decision, to put the ball in my members court, was liberating.

Today, I had my first visit in someone’s home as a result of using these cards.  And it was awesome.  I got the grand tour of her house.  We had danish and cups of tea in the kitchen.  She sent me home with some apples from the tree in her backyard.  We talked about her family and the ways that she had served the church and she had the opportunity to ask me questions about a new position she was taking on for the next year.  And it was because she knew I was coming, and I knew she was expecting me, and because we both wanted to get to know one another better that we had such a wonderful time.
In some ways, I felt like by using this new method I was cheating just a little bit, but after talking with my superintendent, he helped me to realize a few things.
First – this allows my congregation members to respond as they feel comfortable.  This is a german community and folks are pretty private.  They don’t let you into their personal lives easily.  We would rather put on a proud face than admit we have problems and while we are quick to help out, we resist help from anyone else.  This method allows those who want to visit the opportunity to do so – in their own way.
Second – it takes the pressure off the cold calls.  It allows me to be more comfortable, because I already know that this particular person or family is expecting me.  They aren’t worried about what their home looks like, because they invited me to come over.  They aren’t rushing out the door for a soccer game, because this is a time that is good for them.  They are prepared for me to show up.  Or we are meeting somewhere at a specific time and have the chance to grab a cup of coffee and we both know that this time is set aside for a conversation.
Third – It lets folks know that I really do care about them, that I’m willing to make the effort to get out and see them… even if they are people that haven’t been to church in ages.  Most of those folks are not going to return the cards.  And so the question that I’m struck with is – do I call and follow up?  Or do I respect their decision not to reach out?  I think the sentiment we ended on was that if I continue to make these kinds of efforts – not right away – but every once and a while – they’ll know I really do care.  That I’m not pestering.  And that when they are ready – I will be too.

Postmodern Church and the Farmlands of Iowa… Part 3

In this installment, I want to talk about some of the “best practices” that I see coming out of emerging, missional, and postmodern churches. Some of these practices are mentioned in Diana Butler Bass’ book, Christianity for the Rest of Us, but they also come from Kester Brewin’s, Signs of Emergence. A few of the “best practices” are ones that I have been introduced to as I have been in conversation with pastors across the country.

First, I think in emergent churches there is a deep shift towards becoming a community of practitioners. Rather than offering services to be consumed, these congregations invite individuals to become a part of a communal pilgrimage. Or as Dan Kimball claims, the emerging church will have to teach people “that they are the church and that they don’t simply attend or go to one.”

Faith becomes “a craft learned over time in community,” according to Bass, as she describes the Seattle Church of the Apostles which takes seriously this communal pilgrimage. Realizing that many in the community had no experience whatsoever with Christianity, they developed a process called The WAY, focused on creating pilgrims rather than members. In the year long journey, “the goal is to help them at their own pace to come into a living relationship with Jesus Christ that takes over the center of their life.”

As I have seen this lived out, on the ground, many emergent faith communities are actually small groups that are connected to more institutional churches.  In some ways, I think of them as that magic 10% of the people who get it and who really want to live out their faith.  As Taylor Burton Edwards has talked about Wesleyan missional groups and accountability groups and class meetings – in some ways he has encouraged people to focus on those people who want to take the deeper plunge. Their journey and witness can become a catalyst for other transformations in the lives of your congregation members and in people completely unconnected to the church. Praxis rather than doctrine rules this shift.
Another “best practice” is that these churches take seriously their location. Kester Brewin describes these churches as adaptable systems that resist standardization. While the modern scientific perspective took something from one context and directly applied it to another, the postmodern realizes that cookie cutter ministry will not work and that each church needs to be authentic to its own location.

For example, Bass describes an Episcopal church that began a Hispanic congregation for new immigrants. In their worship practices, and especially in communion, they felt they needed to pay attention to what it means to be “home”:

Think of the joy of going home to the house you grew up in, with the smell of your mother’s cooking in the kitchen, the tastes of food, the sounds of family. Here, like your mother’s table, the Lord’s table welcomes you home. Here we are an extended family in the Spirit through communion. You are all members of God’s house.

That might seem comforting to us who fondly remember what it is like to be gathered around a parent’s dinner table.  But how much more welcoming is it for a community of people who are far from the homes they grew up in.  How much more inviting is that statement for a people who are creating a new home in unfamiliar territory.  When you are disoriented and alone, the reminder that God welcomes us into a wider family is powerful.  The goal is not to market to a specific audience or offer a product; rather the church must look seriously at how the gospel comes alive within the experiences of the people.

In Indianapolis last year, I was able to immerse myself in the Earth House Collective and Lockerbie Central United Methodist Church.  They recognized that their neighborhood was quickly changing and that their dying congregation needed to adapt.  So they transformed their basement into a restaurant and their fellowship space into a coffee shop and they tore out the pews and in addition to Sunday night worship, they host plays, dance performances, movies, and concerts.  Their church became a community center and thousands of people come in through their doors each year. That is not something that I can just transplant into a rural community – but it authentically came from their location near the Indy arts district.

The third thing that I find imporant in these churches is their spirit of discernment. Brewin describes this as creative waiting:

So against our hasty judgment, and in God’s scientific wisdom, before we can experience the transformation that is vital to our survival, we will be required to wait. To be acted on gently, gracefully, and peacefully. Shaped, not crushed; guided, not dragged.

The Church of the Epiphany in Washington, D.C. has adopted the more traditional Quaker practice of open worship.  They are asking what God wants for them as a church by listening together in small groups. They gather to hear the truthfulness of God. There are no speeches, no panel discussions, and no debates here, only the deeply countercultural act of silence… When ready, someone shares… the speaker, who is never interrupted by the group, tries to focus the presentation on God’s presence in the midst of these concerns.

This practice is about deep openness to change rather than the modern church’s resistance to it. Just imagine if a congregation was able to say, “just because we’ve never done it that way before, doesn’t mean we can’t.” Bass reminds us that the Christian story is about metanoia or “the change of heart that happens when we meet God face-to-face.” To deny this, is to deny our calling.

Finally, these congregations live with “both/and.” This is the postmodern notion of being comfortable with paradox and contradiction, yet it is also deeply Christian. When asked what he had learned during his long life about the Christian journey, Elton Trueblood responded with the word “and”:

It is good and bad; it is made up of life and death; it is being close to God and sometimes distant… It is the task of the Christian to live in the ‘and,’ in the ambivalence of life.

All the vital congregations Bass studied lived in this tension. They were “creative and traditional, risk-taking and grounded, confident and humble, open and orthodox.” The church I interned with in Nashville, Tennessee was large enough that some of those tensions were felt.  We were a fairly diverse group of folks – liberal and conservative, traditional and yet also willing to try new things.  A small and powerful worship service began on the fourth floor of the building in an old theater space and I think for a year and a half – the folks who gathered there really lived in that tension of the “both/and.”

These four characteristics are what have inspired me about the praxis and theology of the emergent church.  I find in each of them deep biblical roots and have seen the transformation that occurs when they are allowed to take center stage in communities and congregations. But for the most part – that happened in urban contexts, in population centers, with resources like money and talent and time to help foster them.

What happens when the theology and practice are transported to a small county seat town in Iowa?  Stay tuned…

Postmodern Church and the Farmlands of Iowa… Part 1

In our final year at Vanderbilt Divinity School, we work on the crowning glory of our graduate work: our seminar paper.  As I sat down three years ago to write this work, I was very interested in how I might take all that I had learned  and take it back home to Iowa.  I knew I was heading into a rural congregation and I wanted to prepare myself.

During that time at Vandy, my eyes were opened to postmodern culture and theology – particularly manifested in the emerging church movement. I am convinced that this “movement” is not a fad within the church, but a group of individuals and communities who are thoughtfully re-examining their theologies and practices in order to be more faithful to the gospel in their particular place and time. I have begun to be a part of their discussions in small group meetings, conferences, on blogs and through email and every chance that I get to explore what this might mean for the institutional church, especially my United Methodist tradition, invigorates me! I resonate with the ways in which tradition is invited to become organically connected with the present reality of our lives. I find new energy and hope in the emphasis on ritual, community and shared experience. Above all, I have discovered a new framework by which to describe the most meaningful religious experiences of my life.

At the same time, I felt a deep calling to be in ministry in Iowa… which perpetuated a small identity crisis as I tried to figure out how this integration might be possible. Postmodernism was rarely discussed in the churches I grew up in and was often seen more as a threat than a blessing. I am not like the pastors who nurtured my own faith and the “model leaders” who are uplifted and revered by the church culture. I am aware of a deeper, more authentic and communal style of leadership within me and postmodern theology has helped me to claim my own voice and calling as authentic. But the question in the back of my mind was whether the church in Iowa would see it the same way?  This seminar conversation began as I asked myself what God wanted me to bring from my own experience that would be beneficial to the church there?

The reality is that the church itself (mainline, United Methodist, Protestant, small churches, you name it) is in danger of becoming irrelevant. More and more young people are seeking their faith outside of the institutional church – not in a rejection of Christianity, but in an attempt to preserve their own best faithfulness. I have in fact been one of those people, and yet cannot escape a call to remain within my tradition.

Which is possibly why this quote by Karl Barth stood out to me:

To the distinctiveness of its calling and commission, and therefore to the form of its existence as the people of God in [the] world…, there does not correspond in the first instance or intrinsically any absolutely distinctive social form [of the church].

If the church is not authentically living out its calling and commission through its present form, then perhaps in light of postmodernism it does need to be reformed.

At the time, I was interested in how I could take my education, my experiences, and the resources I gained in an urban and academic setting and apply it to rural ministry. I have always understood that it is my duty as a pastoral theologian to help the church hold in tension its tradition and its present reality… while at the same time being faithful to the gospel.  So now, three years later, I want to return to the paper to see what has changed, what I have learned, and where I still want to wrestle. This conversation is my attempt to point to the intersection of postmodern church and rural United Methodist life I discovered, but now, with three years of ministry under my belt, I want to not only imagine what this faithful living might look like, but share what I have learned on the ground.

In the next few weeks, I’ll share some of the various contexts that are at play, some basic background on postmodernism, and what its like to be a congregation in a small town in Iowa. Then we’ll look at the role of theology and practice on the ground.  I hope you’ll join me – and if you have any questions or want to share your own insights – join in!

Preaching in an Empire…

Today, our conference “Thursday Memo for Preachers” came across my inbox.  I’m usually challenged and inspired by Rev. Bill Cotton’s words – and today was no exception.

“Be appalled, O heavens, at this, be shocked, be utterly desolate, says the Lord…”Jer. 2:12


Abraham Heschel in his classic work on the Prophets describes them as persons who become excited and agitated about matter that most of us take for granted. For example, ignoring the needs of the poor. Those old boys like Jeremiah seemed to have one less layer of skin than the rest of us, and that made then sensitive to all forms of injustice.


Have you wondered what Jeremiah would be saying to the richest nation on earth’s inability or unwillingness to see that children of the poor have access to a doctor. Each Tuesday the Grace Health Clinic discovers people without insurance- victims of this cruel system we live under. And should the church speak the words of Jeremiah regarding this injustice, some would call his words socialism and dismiss his raving. Jeremiah speaks in the text for Sunday of how the people have turned away from God, the fountain of living water, and dug cracked cisterns that can hold no water.


Our first parsonage in Fairly, Texas had a cistern. Along about August it would go dry and crack open and we would buy a load of water for $5.00, and it would be gone in a day or two unless we patched the cracks, only that didn’t work so well either. Cisterns that leak are not much good. Churches that ignore the prophets’ word are like broken cisterns.


Maybe Jeremiah is too much for the church and nation this week. If so we might try Dr. Luke’s description of Jesus telling us that when we give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame.. and you will be blessed because they cannot repay you..Luke 14:13


With all of the injustice that we face in these times, perhaps both Jeremiah and Luke are too troublesome. There simply is no place to run no place to hide from these texts this week if we are faithful to the text.


One last try. Hebrews 13:1-8,15-16 This text invites us to show hospitality to strangers and we do have an open door policy. Well the door is somewhat open. But, within that text are the words “Jesus Christ the Same, yesterday, today and forever”. Those words just feel good in the mouth. The only problem, if we practice the faith of Jesus who is always the same we must include the faith of Jeremiah. Still no place to run, no place to hide. The preaching life is tough with you live in an empire. Go preach anyway!

I was especially moved by the line – “should the church speak the words of Jeremiah regarding this injustice, some would call his words socialism and dismiss his raving.”

Our church is celebrating this Sunday the missional outreach of our congregation.  I am not standing up in the pulpit to preach – but I pray that these words of Jeremiah and Hebrews and Luke will not be ignored.  We will gather to celebrate the ways that we have fed the hungry, and helped those in prison, and brought healing to the sick, and reached out to the poor in this past year.  And I am so proud of my church for the amazing ways that they have given for those in need.
The Christmas Giving Tree for Tanzania
But something that has profoundly stood out to me is how few of us spend time with the poor, the sick, the imprisoned.  We are quick with our pocketbooks or with a food and clothing drive, but there are relatively few who are willing or able to head on over to the meal site and sit down with folks.  That is probably just as much the fault of our busy schedules and prioritizing of family as it is a discomfort with being around those we think might be different.
Dan Dick wrote about our “comfort-zones” this week on his blog.  And it was a reminder to me that discipleship involves growing and stretching and in some cases being disoriented so that we can be realigned with God’s priorities.  We all have different gifts and places of spiritual comfort, but the fullness of the experience of God is only reached if we are able to move outside of those areas and encounter God in the unfamiliar, too.

My prayer is that the testimony of those who have served with their hands and feet might be a witness this week.  My prayer is that their stories might help to nudge their fellow brothers and sisters into a more active and present love of their neighbor.  These are challening times in the rhetorical world.  Our nation is split on ideological lines, and my prayer is that their experience would provide a far better exposition of the challenging words for this Sunday than my preaching ever could.