something to identify as

I heard a song on the radio this evening by Patrick Stump featuring Lupe Fiasco called, “This City.”  It’s a new single, it has an okay beat and the lyrics are kind of lame.  As one listener texted in, it sounds like a song that should be on high school musical.  Teen pop, whatever.

But as I sat there thinking about the lyrics, I thought, here are two guys who are totally proud of their city, in spite of all of the bad things that happen in it.  They mention corruption and gentrification and racism and even the weather, but they love that city (Chicago) anyways.

My emergent cohort read this month Tony Jones’ new book “The Church is Flat.”  He describes a relational ecclesiology that he finds within emergent theology and emergent congregations across the United States.  Being his doctoral dissertation, it is a bit heavy, but was a good mental exercise to explore.

As I drove in the car listening to this new song playing on the radio, running through my head was the conversation I had only an hour before about identity and belonging and authority.

Pulling from new social movement theory and characterizations, Jones claims that the emergent church movement helps people to claim a “new or formerly weak dimensions of identity.” In the process, the “relation between the individual and the collective is blurred.” The actions, behaviors and identity of a person become all wrapped up into the movement and your very participation in that movement gives you an identity.

Think about it like this:  50 years ago when a couple introduced themselves to new neighbors, one of the first sentences they might have shared was, “We go to the Methodist church.”  Their very identity was wrapped up in the church.  They raised their children in the church.  They belonged on the church softball team.  But then came the 60’s and 70’s and that communal identity started to be questioned.  The next generation would go back to the church only to raise their kids, if at all.  And then the GenXers who followed were either not brought up in the church at all, or it was a background institution that had little to no bearing on their personal identity.

As an offhand comment, there was a mention somewhere in the book about how that dillusion of identity also has come from parents marrying outside of their denominational upbringing.  A child of Lutheran-Methodist parents might have far less denominational loyalty as someone whose whole family has come from a particular tradition.
If we look at the religious landscape today, there are few who proudly claim their denominational identity as one of the primary markers of their personal identity.  I have a friend or two with a “John Wesley is my homeboy” t-shirt, but they are few and far between.  I am much more likely to encounter someone who tells me that they are a farmer or a vegetarian or a Marxist than I am to find someone in my daily walk who will tell me, I am a Presbyterian. Our churches do not form the core of our identities.

The claim that Jones makes in his book is that this is not true in emergent congregations.  In these communities, the life of the individual is tied to the life of the movement. They claim it as a part of who they are.  It impacts where they eat and what they buy and who they spend time with.  And that is a conscious action based upon their identity.

I am torn at many times in my life between denominational loyalty and faithfulness to the Wesleyan understanding of community.  While at times I hope and pray that they can be the same thing, there are many days when it is not so.  I want to belong to and lead a church that lives out their faith every single day, that is committed to the virtues that community cultivates, and that deeply seeks to follow Jesus Christ and the promptings of the Holy Spirit.  Sometimes, the institutional church just doesn’t do it for me.  Sometimes, I see glimpses and I’m energized once more.
I guess what I’m saying is, I want to write a song called “This Church.”  And I want to proudly proclaim to all the world that I love this church, in spite of its flaws.  I found my faith in this church, it raised me to know and love God, and if I have my way I’m going to stay here. You can burn it to the ground, or let it flood, but this church is in my blood. And I want to be a part of a community that every day in small and ordinary ways, seeks the will of God in all that they do. I want to be a part of a community that has the gospel in its blood… whose very identity as individuals is predicated on their participation in the body of Christ called the church in this place.

Is that so much to ask?

understanding ritual

Today I get to co-officiate my first inter-denominational wedding.

Well, that may not be completely true.  There have been plenty of folks from different protestant and even different Christian backgrounds who have married under my authority.  But each couple chose to go with the Methodist order and flow and style… their traditions weren’t so important, or different, that it made a difference.

But today’s wedding will be in a Catholic church, with a Catholic priest and I doing the ceremony.  I’m preaching and reading and praying, and he’s generally presiding and taking care of the vows.

I have to admit that going into this wedding I wasn’t sure what to think.  I have my own authority and traditions and ways of being that are being set aside for this particular ritual.  In my church we don’t normally hold the gospel in such high respect and honor.  In my church we don’t typically bow before the altar and the cross.  It’s not better, or worse, it’s just different.

As someone who is outside of these traditions, they feel a little unfamiliar as I do them, but I am also hyper-conscious of why we are doing them.  I understand the respect and honor and submission involved in these ritualistic acts.  And that makes them beautiful to me. Yet I also understand that just as ritual acts in my own tradition become rote and familiar that we sometimes take them for granted and go through the motions without any remembrance of why we are doing them.
This experience makes me want to go back with an open eye and look at every action of our typical Sunday morning worship.  When do we stand and sit?  When do we make motions?  What is the purpose of our acts of worship?  And then to talk about them… To spend a few weeks or months, or maybe at least one Sunday every month reminding folks as we worship what we are doing and why we are doing it.

“Let us stand together as we hear the gospel to honor the words of Jesus.”

“Let us bow our heads together in prayer as we surrender ourselves to the power of God at work among us.”
“Let us sing with exuberant voices as we give thanks for these blessings God has given us.”

A few words make a world of difference.  And they might be enough to jar us out of complacency and to truly worship.

time heals all…

My church has not had a choir for about 10-15 years. And this large brown filing cabinet with boxes overflowing next to it in the church office is full of sheet music and photocopies (oops) and sample scores.  For 10 years, we have not used a single piece of music… and in fact, when we brought together a special choir last spring, most of the music was too difficult and too many parts for us to use.

A faithful member walked into my office the other day.  She has been working on passing on some of the music to the local community choir, but they are more interested in music with accompaniment CD’s rather than the sheet music with piano scores we have.  So she volunteered to pay the postage to send the music to someone who really could use it.  With so many tragedies and natural disasters this year in Alabama, Missouri, and even here in Iowa, certainly there were churches who had lost their collections of music.

So I put out a general announcement via facebook searching for a home for this music.

A church less than 30 miles away responded.  Salem United Methodist Church, three years ago this month, was underwater when the Cedar River flooded.  Three years ago, three temporary worship spaces ago, they had a choir room full of music they had collected through the years. And it all washed away down the Cedar. It was all left covered with muck.

Three years have passed and they now find themselves in a new home.  And settled, though busting at the seams in their new gathering space, they were eager and excited about the possibility of having filing cabinets full of music once more.

While my mind immediately went to those places that have recently been hurting, when I first got the word about Salem UMC needing music, my heart sank.  The churches in Tuscaloosa and Joplin and Varina are not ready for choir music.  They are probably still sorting through rubble.  They are probably still trying to figure out what to do next.  They are still grieving, and they have a long journey ahead of them to recovery.

The thing about healing and rebuilding is that it cannot happen over night.

Whether it is rehabilitation after an injury to your body, or repairing a damaged relationship, or restoring a structure that sustained damage… it takes time.

Just ask the residents of New Orleans… Just ask the people who lived in Czech Village or Time Check in Cedar Rapids… Just ask that neighbor who had a heart attack a few years ago, or your family member who broke a rib… just ask the couple across town whose marriage was strained by adultery or the siblings who didn’t talk for seven years after a falling out.

There are a few places in this world where miraculous healing occurs in an instant… but I know of very few of them.  And even when the healing does come – like in the scriptural stories of the leper or the hemmoraging woman or the demoniac – it is going to take a while to figure out what to do next… how to live your life without the disease or the illness or the demons that plagued you. Relationships might never be the same as they were before.  You will have discovered something about your self or others that changes who you are and what you value. You may not want to get back to your old “normal” at all.

My church has been through its own ups and downs throughout the years.  We have had our good times and our bad.  As we are being re-energized by God, we pray that we simply won’t be what we were in the past. And part of that is letting go of past ideas of “success.”

And so, this morning, seven boxes of sheet music found a new home.  And a flooded out church choir finds itself, three years later, further down the road to recovery.

Ode to the Book of Discipline…

Oh Book of Discipline, how do I love thee…

Let me count the ways.

I love that when I am confused about how to proceed regarding a new parsonage purchase, you contain orderly directions.

I love that when I wrote my papers for ordination nearly every question could be found within your beautiful pages.

I love that as a new pastor I can use you to add weight to my words… because it says so in paragraph such and such of the Discipline.

The Book of Discipline of the United Methodist Church 2008-2012I love that as I look through prior editions, I can see how our church has grown and changed.

I love that you contain, without apology, the history and tradition of our roots and that those pages cannot be changed.

I love that you hold the outcome of our shared wrestlings as the people called United Methodist about difficult issues and theological quandries.

I love that as much as I love you, we both know that you are never completely perfect and that each time our General Conference meets we can fix typos and make amendments and add clarifications.

I love that you are dynamic and changing and yet, at the same time the foundation for our shared ministry through time.

I love that in the words of the 2004 edition, you are “the most current statement of how United Methodists agree to live their lives together.”

I am running to be a delegate to our General Conference in 2012.  And this afternoon I recieved a phone call from a fellow pastor who had some questions for me.  I thought it was awesome that she has taken her own initiative and is doing more research on each person to make an informed decision.

One of the questions that I was asked was whether I will uphold the Book of Discipline as it stands… or something to that effect.

At first, I hesitated.  Because as an ordained elder, I am under this particular rule of law.  These are the agreements that we have made together about how we are going to live together.

So the first words out of my mouth were, “yes, as a pastor, I will work to uphold the Discpline.”

But immediately, I had to qualify that statement.

Because you see, every four years, the Book of Discipline is subject to change and scrutiny.  Every time our church meets together as the General Conference, we “amend, perfect, clarify, and add our own contribution to the Discipline.” (tenses changed, again from the BOD2004)

The Book of Discipline is not holy or sacred.  It is a conversation through time.  It is the product of our connectional spirit.  And while we meet for fellowship and celebration of ministry and worship at General Conference… we also meet to speak on behalf of the church and to figure out how we are going to agree to live together for the next four years.

The United Methodist Church is diverse, global, changing, and – I pray – Spirit led.  As such, we adapt to new situations and ministry fields, we attempt to respond to the new problems the world throws at us, and we continue to try to be faithful to the gospel of Jesus Christ in this place and time.

So yes, I will work to uphold the Discipline that I love… but if the case is made, if it will further the work of God in this world, if we will make more disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world… I will vote to change it in a heartbeat.

rights of workers

Recently, we have wrestled in various states surrounding Iowa, and now in our own state with the rights of workers. I watched the situation unfolding in Wisconsin over the last month and was appalled at how it has all turned out.

The United Methodist Church has had a long history of supporting labor reforms and the labor movement.  From advocating against child labor to supporting the improvement of working conditions for laborers to advocating passage of the Fair Labor Standards Act and the National Labor Relations Act, we have been at the forefront of this issue from the very beginning.

Part of our support for all working people includes support for collective barganining.  This is our current position:

¶ 163 B) Collective Bargaining—We support the right of all public and private employees and employers to organize for collective bargaining into unions and other groups of their own choosing. Further, we support the right of both parties to protection in so doing and their responsibility to bargain in good faith within the framework of the public interest.


In order that the rights of all members of the society may be maintained and promoted, we support innovative bargaining procedures that include representatives of the public interest in negotiation and settlement of labor-management contracts, including some that may lead to forms of judicial resolution of issues.


We reject the use of violence by either party during collective bargaining or any labor/management disagreement. We likewise reject the permanent replacement of a worker who engages in a lawful strike. From The Book of Discipline of The United Methodist Church – 2008. Copyright 2008 by The United Methodist Publishing House. Used by permission.

Biblically, we come at our views of labor through a number of scriptures… beginning in the beginning. The creation of the Sabbath and the command to respect and honor the Sabbath was radical for its day – it was a counter to other nations that forced their laborers to work 7 days a week.  Time and space for rest, renewal and our spiritual relationships is a fundamental part of God’s intention for creation and the people of God.

On Ash Wednesday last week, we read from Isaiah and remember that:

they also complain, ‘Why do we fast and you don’t look our way?  Why do we humble ourselves and you don’t even notice?’

“Well, here’s why: “The bottom line on your ‘fast days’ is profit. You drive your employees much too hard. You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight. You fast, but you swing a mean fist. The kind of fasting you do won’t get your prayers off the ground. Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after:  a day to show off humility? To put on a pious long face  and parade around solemnly in black? Do you call that fasting,  a fast day that I, God, would like?

“This is the kind of fast day I’m after:  to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts. Isaiah 58:3-6, The Message

We have a parable where all people are paid what they need to survive that day, no matter how long or hard they have worked (Matthew 20:1-16) and we have numerous prophets and epistles and proverbs that talk about the relationship between the worker and their employer (1 Cor. 9:7-11, James 5:4, Deut. 24:14-15)

But there are also verses and sayings directed at the worker.  They must work hard, honestly, respecting those they work for and the task at hand (2 Thess. 3:10, Col. 3:23, Prov 12:11).
So how do we look at this situation in light of our tradition and our scriptures?
I think my first response is that at times, workers have abused the system.  Sometimes workers have pushed to get more of what they want, rather than what they need. Yet, if we look at numbers and statistics being thrown around in Wisconsin…. well, there are so many numbers from so many sides that I don’t even know what to believe.  Some talk about the burden on the tax payers, others talk about how all of the money that goes into the pensions and health benefits comes from the workers themselves in a salary deferrment agreement, and so it is actually budget neutral.
Whatever the case, the public employee unions were in the end willing to compromise, lower their expectations, take the cuts to their benefits… but it didn’t matter.  The collective bargaining was what the government wanted to strip.  And it did. As United Methodists, we clearly and unconditionally support the right of workers to organize and to bargain in good faith. That is now gone in the state of Wisconsin.
In Iowa, this issue is also before us. It has come up both in Governor Brandstad’s Executive Order 69 which prohibits project labor agreements and in the House bill which limits the power of unions in layoff decisions.  These are slightly different ways of handling the problems of imbalance between the government and workers, but as we talk to our own legislators, and as we pray and think about these issues, keep the scriptures and our tradition in mind.  There are positive and negative implications for workers and for our lived reality together in both of these bills.
At the core, we need to be mindful of the public interest, our debt load and budget – but balance that alongside the needs of the actual workers. If the PLA’s cause our building projects inflate the costs, that is one thing, but if they ensure fair and good wages for the ones who are doing the work, that is another. Should they be mandated?  Should they be prohibited?  Should they be an option?  This is a conversation we need to have. Those who work, whether in the public or private sector, whether unionized or not, all contribute to our wellbeing.  Good wages help support the economy by putting more money in consumer’s pockets. This is a balancing game… and our scriptures and tradition have some good advice about how we find the right balance.

Pray, read, and if you feel led, call your state representantive. As a citizen of this state, you have a voice… as a person of faith, you have something to say.

the disarming power of a story

Social Justice.

General Board of Church and Society.

Social Principles.

In some circles… those are swear words.

To take a stand, to say that the Bible speaks to our world today, to speak truth to power is DANGEROUS.

But it is also what we are called to do.

I found out about the GBCS Young Clergy Capital Hill Leadership Forum through an email and my first thought was: SIGN ME UP!

You see, I read my bible and I come across those passages where we are supposed to welcome the stranger… and then we have anti-immigration laws being bandied about in our states.  How do I preach God’s word in the midst of that?

I read my bible and I find this tension between life that doesn’t completely count as life in the laws of Exodus 21 and the idea that God knows us even in our mother’s wombs in Psalm 139.  How do I respond when our state legislature proposes changes to laws about abortion? How do I lead my congregation through a discussion where we can be open to God’s instruction and aware of the reality that surrounds us?

 

Photo by: Wayne Rhodes. Full article here.

 

So… I saw this event as an opportunity to educate myself even more about how to navigate the Bible, the positions that we take as United Methodists, and the lived reality of my parishoners.
What I did not expect was to be surrounded for four days by stories.

Day after day, presenter after presenter, we hear stories of call.  We heard stories of barriers broken down.  We heard stories of hope.  We heard stories of awareness and maturity.  We heard stories of belonging and stories of being on the outside.  We heard stories of mentors.  We heard stories of challenge.

Every single presenter told us where they were coming from.  They spoke out of their own faith experience.  They told us how they got to the place they are today.

And then, and only then, and with very little time remaining, they talked a little bit about the issues.

For a day or two, I have to admit that I was frustrated by this.  I was wanting some meat… some practical tools… some things to take home and do.

But then I realized that was exactly what I had recieved.

I realized that the simple act of telling your story changes the conversation.  When you tell the story of your faith and invite the person sitting across from you to tell yours – you no longer can hurl labels and threats.  You can no longer question that persons faith or sanity or patriotism.  You have met them as a person and now you must treat them as a person.

Any discussion of the issue starts from a completely different place.  It begins in a place of mutuality, of respect, of awareness that we are both children of God.

It starts in a place where we each have something to tell, we each have a way that this story has personally impacted our lives.  And so we move past the soundbytes and the bullet points to a place of real dialogue.

I came home from Washington, D.C. with the disarming power of a story.

a few bytes of inspiration

I took copious notes at the recent GBCS forum I attended in Washington, D.C.

And then I came home and had hoped to decipher and debrief, but ran smack into four funerals and piles of mail and pastoral visitation needs, and a husband who missed me, and family gatherings… you get the picture.

But remember, I took notes!

So here are some of my attempts at wading through the tiny print all over my folder from the event… the statements and questions that continue to linger in my mind:

  • Can we balance the budget without hurting the poor?  This is the top advocacy issue for economic justice.
  • the difference between lobbyists and advocates:  one works for the benefit of their organization, the other works for the benefits of others and do not raise money for legislators.
  • government of the people, by the people, and FOR the people
  • The United Methodist Building was built before the Supreme Court that is next door to it.
  • Your call is: one sentence, impossible, won’t let you go.
  • Pastors stand at the gaps to bring reconciliation between people – the pastor has to get involved… and you have to win the hearts of the people
  • We say, “WE BELIEVE…” but will we help usher in these things that we believe so firmly in?
  • Legislative priorities adopted by the GBCS are based on our Book of Resolutions and Social Principles…. but also depend on what congress is actually going to focus on that year.
  • Do we have FOOLISH VIGOR?
  • Everyone needs to be proud about what THEY bring to the table… otherwise there cannot be alliances, partnerships, solidarity
  • the church is never called to be partisan, but always called to be political
  • EKKLESIA means to be called out – called out of the world, from the world… the church is the body that is called out, and calls out.
  • Congregational vitality has everything to do with Justice and Mercy… we can’t feed people’s souls if they die of hunger.
  • A leader is someone who makes sure no one falls down (7 year old boy)
  • Do we really believe the UMC can change the world?  Do we really believe God can work through us to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the TRANSFORMATION OF THE WORLD?
  • In Defense of Creation talks about three systems that destroy: hunger making systems, war making systems, and desert making systems.  The intersection of these destroys life.
  • Evangelism is absolutely connected with Mercy and Justice ministries… as long as you communicate WHY you are doing what you are doing.
  • you have to have some kind of personal engagement with what you do… in D.C. policy is traded without an awareness of lives that are affected.  We need to know what the INCARNATIONAL IMPACT OF JUSTICE is.
  • The point of justice is not programs and issues but relationships…
  • To be Christian is going to COST something… faithful sacrifice.
  • Ask folks how they feel about this issue personally… how does it affect them? what is it like to read the news? where do they have fears and hopes?
  • the UMC is a leader on Capital Hill because we have United Methodists who passionately care about the issues.

Anything catch your eye? Anything you want to talk more about?

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!