Over the past eight months, I have learned a lot about the people of Immanuel UMC. I had heard you were friendly and welcoming, hospitable and that this was a caring church, but those are really just words until you see them lived out in people’s lives. And having a fresh set of eyes – an outsiders eyes – I want to share just a few things I’ve learned. I’ve learned that you are quick to show up at the bedside of a friend and have often have visited before either of us pastors hear someone is in the hospital or is sick. I’ve discovered the joy filled welcome that so many greeters offer to those who walk in the doors on Sunday mornings. I see the care that is taken to make this a hospitable and welcoming place – from the pots of coffee that are prepared to the flexibility to adapt and use this space differently, like you did with the nursery and library moves. On the sign outside our building, it says “All Welcome!” and you really want everyone to feel welcome here. But I must share that I also come as an outsider that looks and talks a whole lot like many of you do here in the church…. And on the surface, whether we intend for it to or not, that is itself a barrier for people who may not look or speak like the majority of those in this room. Being a part of this church, I can now see and name the multitude of ways we are diverse. We have a wide range of ages – from four week old babies to 104 year olds! We are people who are wealthy and who are struggling financially. We are healthy and we are in need of healing. Some of us have been educated by the streets and some of us have taught in universities. We vote republican and we vote democrat. And perhaps the most striking dichotomy of all: Some of us are Hawkeyes and some of us are Cyclones and some of us are Panthers and some of us don’t fit into any of those categories, but we still somehow are able to worship together 😉 We have made room in this place for all of this difference. God is good! Yet, there are still people missing from our midst. There are still people in this neighborhood and in this larger community who do not know that they would be welcome here. Even inside this caring, loving community, there are still people who feel like they simply don’t quite belong. Our sign outside might say, “All Welcome…” but do we truly live that out with every fiber of our being? In our gospel reading for this morning, the question of who belongs is lifted up. One afternoon, Jesus is hanging out with some of his disciples… who were all Jewish, both ethnically and religiously. In other words, they would have looked and talked the same. Philip and Andrew were out and about in the community when they encountered some Greeks who were in town for the festival. And these Greeks approached the pair and asked if they might see Jesus. What is interesting is that these are the same words that were used when Philip and Andrew first met Jesus… He asked them to “come and see.” So, these Greeks want to do more than just meet Jesus – they want to become followers OF Jesus. I can imagine Philip and Andrew turned to each other and started whispering. “They want to see Jesus?” “But they are Greek!” “Um…. Let’s go ask first…” What was the big deal? First of all, in the gospel of John, the disciples understood themselves to be part of a Jewish movement. They were traveling the countryside, preaching good news to the poor, but most of those people looked remarkably like them. Yes, there had been that one encounter with a Samaritan woman, but for the most part, this was a Jewish movement for Jewish people. This is only the second time in John’s gospel that Jesus encounters gentiles, people outside the Jewish community. Second, I have always found the disciples to be a bit thick. It takes them a little longer to catch on than we would like. They tried to keep the children from Jesus, but he welcomed them. They watched as he embraced sinners and prostitutes and outcasts. Yes, the ethnicity of these Greeks set them apart from Jesus’ disciples. At a minimum, their accents would have distinguished them. But maybe they dressed different and had a lighter hair and fairer skin. But Jesus had shown again and again that all sorts of people were welcome. Can you picture it? They walk up to Jesus, with the Greeks standing not too far behind them and they ask: “Hey Jesus, do you want to see those people, or should we send them away?” We want Jesus to answer with something like –“ Sure! Have them come over!” or “You guys just don’t get it… of COURSE I want to see them.” But he doesn’t. Jesus instead, for all to hear, starts talking about how you have to die to bear fruit. That he is going to give up his life and anyone who wants to follow him must give up theirs as well. When we think of it in the context of this diversity, Jesus’ words make a bit more sense. Standing before him are Andrew and Philip, the first Jewish disciples… and behind them are those who might become the first Greek disciples. Will they be able to get along? Will they be able to set aside their differences to follow him? Or will their pasts get in the way of the future God has planned for our salvation? This parable of sorts that Jesus offers is all about their identity. They can cling to their heritage and their labels, but if they do so they will always remain strangers. They will remain in their differences and never be lifted up with Christ. But if they let go of their worldly identity… their distinctions as Jews and Greeks… then they will come to know true life in the community of Jesus Christ. Jesus is asking them, and us, to declare our allegiance. Jesus invites us to let go of our labels – Jew or Greek, male or female, young or old and to take on a new identity as the servant of Christ… to identify ourselves not by any characteristic of this world, but to claim our identity in Jesus’ death and resurrection. I am white. I am a female. I am American. I am United Methodist. But first and foremost and more important than any of those other labels, I am a disciple of Jesus Christ. And the question raised by this parable is what kind of sacrifices do we need to make… what do we need to risk… in order for the world to know that is the core of our identity? Whether we want it to or not, all of those other identifying characteristics can get in the way of the world knowing the love of God in Jesus Christ. The color of our skin can be a barrier. The way we talk can be a barrier. Our nationality can be a barrier. And if we want others to see Jesus in us… If we want others to know and follow him who died to save us all… then it is up to us to cross whatever barriers might exist and be present with people where they are. Recently, Samsung put together an ad that describes the kind of hospitality and love that helps someone who feels like they are on the outside experience what it might like to be in. Muhareem is deaf and his primary language is sign language. Yet as he encounters neighbors and strangers in the world, they don’t speak his language. But what if they did? What if a whole neighborhood decided to cross a barrier and meet Muhareem where he is? What sacrifices can we make? What risks can we take? What barriers can we cross to help others see Jesus? God loves all sorts of people who live outside of these four walls. Single dads. Drug addicts. The homebound elderly. Children who are competing for first place in a contest. Folks who partied too much last night. So the question I leave us with today is what might Jesus be asking us to do to cross a barrier and share the love of Christ with them today? What might we, as a church, let go of, so that the world might know Jesus?
Posts Tagged with church
Procedures
My household recently added a person to it.
My brother in law moved in for a bit as he prepares to start graduate school. It is our chance to help him out and besides, we love having him over!
It has been interesting to watch as we navigate around one another. We are running the dishwasher more, which means we have to figure out loading and unloading chores. We haven’t yet figured out who is cooking when. So far we haven’t had to fight over the remote control. 😉
Simply adding one person creates so many more places where communication and processes need to be put into place to help the household function at its best.
This is something I’ve discovered in the church, too. It amazes me how many procedures we have to learn/implement in a church with multiple staff.
For example, in my first church, the number of people who touched any particular bill was limited. Almost everything was under my direct supervision, because I placed the orders and opened the mail and indicated the expense line and drew up the financial reports. So I knew how it all fit together without needing a plan written up.
The shift to a larger church means more people are involved from the admin to the assist treasurer to the staff person who places an order to the finance chair… and we don’t all understand the process in the same way. We together need a system that helps, rather than hinders, our ability to do effective and efficient ministry.
With a lot of new staff, this has been a great opportunity to ask some really basic questions about why we use certain procedures that might have outgrown their usefulness and to explore new ways of doing them. It is also a good time to reeducate everyone on how the system functions. I’m learning a lot, but it is also neat to see when a process works and all the pieces click.
And the same is happening at home. I think the fresh perspective from our new house guest is helping Brandon and I discover some ruts in our system, do some things in a new way, and better talk about why we do what we do. There are still things we haven’t worked out yet, and others yet to be discovered, but we’ll get there. And with the right “procedures” we’ll be alright.
D-I-Y Pastoring #NaBloPoMo
My first church had one person on staff… myself. So, I painted and cooked and folded bulletins with a very tiny army of volunteers… in between the “pastoral” work.
And I’ve always been a roll-up-the-sleeves kind of person. I stick around to help out. I wash dishes. It is who I am.
In the past week, I’ve helped paint our nursery and moved stuff around. I made copies. I cut out commitment cards. Not because there weren’t people who couldn’t do it, but because I’m hands on. I want to help.
Along the way, I’m discovering that makes me an unusual lead pastor or head of staff. I have blogged about postmodern leadership styles before and I am reminded of Frodo-like leaders… who need a team around them. Lots of skills working toward a common goal. A journey we take together, wearing different hats along the way. Discovering who we are as we go along the road.
As I paint and fold and cut, I allow others to let their gifts shine. I demonstrate my willingness to not only meet them where they are, but join them in their experience. And I’m able to hear their stories as we work alongside each other and build relationships.
Can I add… there is something awfully rewarding about defeating a copy machine and getting the brochures all done. Or listening in as children walk by the new nursery and squeal with excitement.
What a crazy and wonderful job I have.
Recklessly Lavish, Wastefully Abundant
This past Sunday, I stepped into the pulpit at Immanuel UMC for my first morning as their new pastor.
I had actually been in the pulpit before.
Working with Imagine No Malaria, this had been one of many churches I had visited over the past year and a half.
There was something very different, however, about standing there at the front, being welcomed as a new leader within the church.
My topic for the morning was straight from the lectionary – the parable of the farmer who scatters seed all over the place – even in places where it probably will never grow.
I flipped the narrative on its head a little bit and instead focused on what God is up to in this text. Last year, I heard Rev. Maidstone Mulenga from the Baltimore-Washington Annual Conference preach on this text and he used a surprising word to describe our God: “prodigal.” Prodigal as in recklessly lavish, wastefully abundant, over-the-top, out of control.
To audible gasps, I tossed sunflower seeds around all over the front of the chancel area to show just how shocking this parable would have been… scattered in places where it never would grow…. (I got permission from our maintenance staff first! It was fun to watch them sit back and laugh as folks wondered how they would respond!)
That is how the farmer was with the seed… and that is how God spreads seeds of love and grace and mercy in our lives. Recklessly wasteful, lavishly abundant.
What I didn’t anticipate however, was the radical and abundant welcome from this church. From my first morning in the office when I was warmly welcomed by staff and the SPRC, to meals together, to flowers left on my desk, to the countless cards and gift cards given to us by the church family… it was all so much. It was prodigal. It was wonderful.
God works in strange ways like that… surprising us in unexpected places, giving us just the encouragement and confidence we need to face a new challenge, and never letting our limitations (be they weeds or rocks or a hard worn path) limit the power of God’s grace.
Honey Badgers, Anxiety, and the future of the church
At our conference Orders Event a few weeks ago, we talked a lot about being anxious. The talk was from a systems theory perspective and focused on how pastors need to be non-anxious participants in the system to effectively lead change and help the system to be healthy.
I’m not going to comment on the style of the presentation, but I realized as the day went on that I am not at all anxious about the future of the church.
Maybe it is because I’m one of those “young adults” who don’t put a lot of stock in the institution itself. (As much as I hate the constant labeling of young adults and the characterization of who they are and what they believe – sometimes the label fits and I’m going to wear it with pride). The truth is, if it all went upside down tomorrow, I have faith and trust that God would birth something new.
There is a feeling all around us that we need to do something to right this leaning ship… that it is all in danger of capsizing or falling apart. But would that really be so terrible?
Don’t get me wrong… Part of me loves this church. I know its not perfect. It is trying to hear God’s call and struggling to answer. It is broken and beautiful. I see and recognize its flaws, but I love it. I’m still here, aren’t I?
But part of me really doesn’t care if the church is here tomorrow… as long as we are being faithful to the one we claim to worship inside the walls of those fancy buildings.
It is… well, interesting to live in the midst of this both/and situation. I find myself both working proactively to restructure and revitalize what is present, while I find comfort and solace in small communities of folks who gather to read and discuss and lift up hopes and dreams. You might be able to tell just by how I worded that sentence that the hard proactive work makes me want to tear out my hair more than it bathes me in the hope and joy of the Lord.
But I’m still here. Still plodding along. I’m not worried. I’m going to do what I can. I’m going to use the best of my resources. But I’m not anxious. If our best human efforts fail… if this institution can’t be saved by our hands, so be it. Maybe then we’ll finally remember the church isn’t a place but a people. Maybe we’ll see a resurrection out of death. Maybe that’s what the whole gospel is about. Not us, not our attempts… but the love and grace of God that overcomes all. ALL. Even the “death tsunami.”
It strikes me that maybe it is exactly my “live or let die” casual spirit about the whole future of the church that keeps getting me invited to those grueling conversations about what we are going to do to save ourselves. While others worry about this and fret about that and leverage positions and ministries and try this and that… I’m the non-anxious presence in the room. I can sit and listen. I can interpret. I can pray. I can offer guidance and direction. But as much as I love this church, I also have the ability to detach myself from its survivability. I don’t necessarily have a dog in the fight.
As I talk with my other young adult colleagues, we see a completely different church ahead of us. A church of collaboration and connection, networking and accountability. We know that there is money in some far off pension fund, but we don’t actually believe we’ll ever see it. We buy into the system, but we aren’t counting on it to sustain us. We are just at the beginning of giving 40+ years to the institution… whether or not it is actually around for that long. We love it, but if it all fell apart, we’d pick ourselves up and move on to the new thing God is doing.
But please, don’t take that to mean that we aren’t trying, that we are lazy, or that we are just sitting back waiting for it to die.
What it means is that in the midst of doing this thing called church, we are eagerly looking around to see where God might lead us next.
Anxious? Nope. Not in the least.
Honey badger don’t care.
My Book of Resolutions
Resolution 2013.1
WHEREAS, my change in job has caused some stress in my family life
WHEREAS, stability is sometimes more important than flexibility
WHEREAS, I need to remember this job is a marathon, not a sprint
THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED, that I will prayerfully (and with consulatation from my husband) discern my schedule in the future – especially planned time away
LET IT FUTHER BE RESOLVED, that I will ask for help when I need it, delegate where I can, and remember that giving 100% to this work is often about empowering other people to serve as well.
Resolution 2013.2
WHEREAS, being on the road has meant less time for self care
WHEREAS, I need to serve God with mind, soul and BODY
WHEREAS, health requires sleep and exercise and good food.
THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED, that I am giving up fast food.
LET IT BE FURTHER RESOLVED, that I will exercise 4x/week.
Resolution 2013.3
WHEREAS, in extension ministry I am without a church home
WHEREAS, I took opportunities this fall to travel on weekends and rest from the Sunday routine in one particular church
WHEREAS, the discipline kind of requires that I find a church
WHEREAS, it is good for my soul to worship with others on a regular basis and not just sporadically with different folks
THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED, that I will find a church home by the end of January.
Resolution 2013.4
WHEREAS, I have lost my weekly bible study group in Marengo.
WHEREAS, I am not preaching every Sunday and therefore not doing regular textual study, either.
WHEREAS, regular time with the scriptures is good for my mind and my spiritual life.
THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED, that I will have coffee every week with a good friend of mine and the Bible
Life on the Road
When I accepted the position as a coordinator of Imagine No Malaria, someone asked what it was like to no longer be serving a church. My response back was that I’m not serving one church… I’m serving nearly 800 of them!
It is exciting to be working with so many new people and communities of faith. I am learning a lot about how different churches operate and what they expect of the conference… both as far as what they can give and what they receive. I am finding creative new possibilities, folks who are eager to serve and who have profoud stories to share. I hear those familiar, tired, overworked and burnt out voices, too… the ones who are hungry for a new injection of life and/or for fresh blood to come in and lend a hand. I’m witnessing the church with all of its glory and warts. It is beautiful.
But I am also spending a lot of time on Interstates 80 and 35 and Hwy 20. My butt is carving out a dent in the driver’s seat of my car. My trunk is full of flyers and training materials and my backseat is littered with McDonald’s bags. (I really need to work on finding more out of the way, hometown, local places to eat). In three days, I’ll be in five different cities doing the work of Imagine No Malaria. It is exciting, but as I type up this post, I’m sitting in a hotel room far from home. I found myself last week fully expecting to see my cat sitting on the edge of the bed, only to remember I was all by myself.
The trainings I have been leading have been good. I’m learning a lot even as we are building some connections and support in each district. The more we do, the more I realize how far we have to go. There is a lot of road left in front of us!
Following Jesus isn't easy…
This morning in my devotion time I read from Matthew 21… the cleansing of the temple. I have been using the daily reading book from The Message and there are always good questions that pull you into the stories and make me think.
This morning, I realized that following Jesus can give a person whiplash. I imagined myself in the midst of the temple, trying to resolve my own guilt and sin, working ou my own salvation, scraping together coins to pay for the doves or goat or whatever I needed for atonement… redemption. I remember this sickening feeling that others were profiting from my mistakes.
And in walks Jesus. I’ve heard about him… seen him once… and before I realize whats happening, the table where my doves were sitting in a cage has been overturned and the birds fly free… the guy who was charging me an arm and a leg for my ticket to redemption is on his heels looking for an exit. I feel so free in that moment… like the birds.
My sin ever present, I need healing as much as the disabled and ill who crowd around him. I press in closer and realize how fortunate I was to have been “in” the system already… I was struggling… but I was not a beggar. I had opportunities many of these never had to be here and connect with God and worship in this temple… and so I fall back and let others move ahead of me.
I want to be close and I want to give others a chance… I want salvation and in a way I feel like simply in the presence of Christ it is already mine. I feel joyful and free and giddy…
And then the priests come running out. I notice the commotion… birds flying free, goats crapping in a corner, kids running through the building, the wall of people around Jesus.
I… well, ‘m going to say it. I feel a bit ashamed. I’m not entirely sure why, but perhaps it is because these are figures of authority in my life. These have been he agents of God in my life. These are the people who always told me what salvation was. And I feel like I have betrayed them, like we are all doing something wrong.
There is a confrontation between them and Jesus and he turns his face against them and leaves as quickly as he came. And the shame and anxiety and yet residual joy and hope I felt co-mingle and I run after him. I wan to hear what he is saying. I am a flutter of so many emotions and yet I know the truest ones I felt were at his side.
Sometimes as we follow Christ we get a glimpse of possibility… only to have that hope squelched by the world, or parents, or our church… sometimes the people we have loved so dearly and who have loved us so dearly disappoint when it comes to sharing our new hopes. I’ve heard some of those stories recently and as my work… following Jesus… leads me deeper INTO the structure and the “insiders” my prayer is that I never forget that whiplash… never fail to hear Christ’s voice… never overlook those who are thoughtful and hungry and full of ideas and hopes and dreams right next to me for the sake of what I think I’m supposed to be doing.