Learning a Lesson, Laughing a Little, and a Sermon on God's Wild Unpredictability

I started a new appointment on July 1. July 10 was my first Sunday leading services. Everything went pretty well, but, as all first Sundays are, it was bit a rough around the edges. It's just what happens when leading a service in a space with which and with a people with whom one is not familiar. July 17 was supposed to be the polished service. You know, now that I've presided in the space, I am supposed to know how to lead those assembled through an experience that offers occasions for encountering the divine. So, I put my all into it.

I am not one of those pastors who has their sermons mapped out years or months in advance. I've gone through periods of having songs selected and themes roughly outlined for the year. Suffice to say, I'm not in that space now. Even if I wanted to be, I just started a new church and I think I need to change my prerecorded tapes in order to craft worship that is relevant for the "getting acquainted phase" with this new congregation. For the time being, we are moving in a week to week mode. Hopefully, this will change.

Despite working in a weekly mode, I worked very diligently to get all of my ducks in a row. Oh, ducks...why must you stray? On Tuesday of this week, I emailed the contents of the order of service to the office and to the folks who do the visuals during the service. On Wednesday, I met with the music people, rehearsed with them, and selected music. On Thursday, the music was sent to the office for the bulletin and to those who craft the visuals. On Saturday, when I was still struggling to find the right message, I realized that it was going to be a late night. Rather than expecting someone else to open a text file on Sunday morning and scramble to put visuals to my rather unusual sermon, I stayed up until 3 AM finding photos that would move the congregation through the sermon. Needless to say, at 7 AM when my alarm went off, I was tired...very tired - so tired, in fact, that I didn't get up. I stayed in bed until 8 AM.

The worship service at my new church begins at 10 AM. While I wasn't working with an "excess of time," I did think that I had "plenty of time" to get to church. And yet, not so. I left the house a little after 9 AM. It takes about 20 minutes to drive the distance between my house and the church. I got about half way to the church when I realized that I had left my clerical collar on my dresser. I have worn a clerical collar since 1996 and this has never happened. Never. I quickly turned around and made it about half way back to my house when reality confronted me: There was no way to make it home and to church in the amount of time left. So, I made another U-turn and headed to church. This was going to be an embarrassing but not a fatal mistake. After all, I wear a robe.

Earlier in the week, some adjustments had to be made regarding the assisting minister and the sound board. Adjustments were made. Crisis averted. But, when I walked into the sanctuary without much time to spare, there was no one to run the visuals for the service. For the first time in 3 years there had been a miscommunication. Hey, they happen. So, I pull out my flash drive and pop it in the computer (I'm so prepared, right?). I open the internet and download the file with the song lyrics. Lo and behold, neither file will open. It is now time for worship to begin. No lyrics, no prayers, no liturgy for Holy Communion. And then, grace happened.

Song books were passed out to be shared. A lay person stepped forward to pull together the communion liturgy and other necessary components. I took a deep breath, laughed, and invited the Holy Spirit to move through the assembly. You know what? It did. We worshiped. Life continued - without a collar and everything.

The funny thing about this story, at least as far as I'm concerned, is that I often tell people that I rock worship old school. Not 1950s old school. But 1550s old school. I love incense, candles, and quiet. I like singing from hymnals and reading from Bibles. I enjoy hearing stories and being pulled into the imagination of the speaker. I like quiet prayer and shared prayer. Simple worship is beautiful worship. Today, as a result of the universe's sense of humor, we got to worship a little old school.

The even funnier thing? Today's sermon was on the wild unpredictability of God. I had spent a week crafting in detail a service to introduce people to the uncontrollable nature of God. I had planned, plotted, emailed, downloaded, and printed so that nothing would go wrong while we sang, prayed, and preached about wildness, wilderness, and the holy. Today offered a great object lesson with my own need for control and correctness sitting in the midst of the service. It was humbling.

It is true that preparation is important, that we can't just "fly by the seat of our pants" and move through life. It is also true that despite our best preparations, sometimes we have to let go and live not the plan we dreamed but the reality that is before us. I find that when I can do this - let go - then there is a lot of grace in the world, a lot of joy in the midst of error and chaos, and that community will inevitably arise to the occasion.

I don't know that I'm particularly glad that today's plan was not executed well. And yet, if it weren't going to go according to my plan, this was the best divergent path I can imagine. It helped those of us getting to know one another realize that becoming acquainted is often fraught with awkward moments. It reminded us all that, in the end, worship is not about our hopes but about God encountering us in community. And, while I don't know how others experienced today's service, God certainly was present for me.

Today was one of those "lesson days." And, I thank God for the gift of humor that allowed us all to laugh a little. Moreover, I am grateful for the wildness of God that constantly interrupts our plans for the sake of something more wonderful.

Jimmy Carter Breaks with the Southern Baptist Convention

I've often wondered why he stayed so long given his outlooks on so many topics. In "The Age" President Carter writes an essay reflecting upon his reasons to finally leave his denomination of 60 years. I think this essay asks many Christians to define for themselves why they do or do not stay within the denominations that form and inform their lives.

What happened to "covenant"?

Not that long ago I talked with a potential new member of my local congregation. During our talk, it became evident that this person wants to attend worship, has a belief in God, wants to grow deeper in his/her spirituality, and is finding a spiritual home in this church. But there is no desire to enter into membership through covenant. In another conversation with someone else, that person indicated a desire to join the church because she/he likes the congregation, but there was little interest in spiritual formation or discipleship. What has happened to the idea of membership in the local church.

Covenant is such a strong biblical principle. It undergirds all that we are as descendants of Abraham and Sarah. God has covenanted to be our God and we are to be God's people. In baptism we covenant to nurture one another and hold one another in prayer. In Holy Communion we remember God's faithful covenant with us and we pledge to go into the world as Christ's body, sealed in sacrament sent in service. Somewhere along the way, however, "covenant" seems to have lost its power in our lives. Whether it's covenanting with a partner or covenanting with a congregation, we have grown "covenant-shy." What happened? And, is there anyway to address this growing condition?

Alternately, there are those who simply want to belong regardless of the "terms" of the covenant. Evidently, the specifics of the covenant don't really mean anything as long as the person gets the "card" and "belong." While I understand the pull to community and the power of friendship, there are other places to "belong." So the question remains: why would someone want to covenant with people around beliefs that are, if not meaningless, not compelling?

Or...am I the only one who notices that we appear to want to stay a bit on the fringes of relationships rather than deeply transformed by them?

Clashing Generations

I continue to explore how churches, especially small churches, might be a place for multiple generations. One of the hesitations that I have about the emerging church movement is that its particularity as a postmodern movement may make it inaccessible to people older than 40. Of course, I know the response to this hesitation of mine is that "regular church" is already for the over forty crowd. I get it...I get it. However, if we are trying to build a new approach to church, I think it's important to keep in mind the clashes of generations and how the differences between and among them could be part of their strength. Remember Pentecost? Difference is a gift from God.

In my reading, I ran across an article published a couple of years ago in a local paper. While it concerns different attitudes toward and hopes for the working envirnoment, it offers me more to add to the growing pile of articles, books, videos, and notes about the active four generations (Greatest, Boomers, Gen X, and Gen y/Millenials/Nexters). The article, The War at Work, follows employment trends and how they are related to attitudes about life, work, family, and the world.

not because of fear: a god of wild love and wilder justice

This is a longer than usual post that comes in response to a couple of recent conversations. It deals with the importance of experience in our faith development. I meet more and more people - mostly people who fit in the "categories" of the GenX and Millenial generations - who would like to come to church, but the things they have heard in church keep them away. By and large I hear them say three things about Christianity that keep them outside of church doors.

1. They don't want anything to do with a God of fear. A God rooted in fear just seems too small. They have been told that the only reason to go to church, participate in Christian community, and learn the scriptures and traditions is to avoid a fiery pit in some other world. This makes no sense to them; fear doesn't speak to them. They have experienced some wonder in the world and have absolutely no desire to orient their lives around a belief system that begins with fear rather than this wonder.

2. Church has been a place filled with hurtful and meaningless platitudes. The concept that "it's all in God's plan" doesn't fit with their experience of the world. The sorrow they've felt in their own lives and tragedies they see around the world just don't fit with this view. If it's all in God's plan, God seems to be a pretty mean deity - sadistic even. They have heard, upon the death of a loved one, "It's all for the best." Or they have heard after some kind of tragedy that "It's all in God's plan." Wow! These platitudes hurt people and don't add meaning to life. People are looking for a place that will welcome honest and real questions about life, death, and all that happens in between. They are looking for a place that will welcome their doubts and offer a way to deal with them. They are not looking to have the most important and fundamental struggles of their souls dismissed.

3. The God of the churches they have known has been described as "all powerful." This means that God either makes all the bad things in the world happen or allows them to happen. This doesn't work with their hopes for a deity. It just doesn't seem right.

Of course there are lots of other reasons that people stay away from church, but these are some of the ones that I hear most about. And I have to say that if I had been raised in a church that promulgated them I probably wouldn't go to church, either. My experience of God - the Divine, the Ground of Being, the Source of All that Is, the Great I Am, the Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, the Holy Spirit, the Great Love (you get my drift) is that our words will always be insufficient to capture the wildness of God. God is the wildness of love and the passion at the heart of justice. In them we find a holy combination that is magnificent and miraculous. God is personal and corporate. God is inclusive - radically so. And God convicts our sins - yes, I said sins. Sins of injustice, of apathy, greed, violence, fear, and hate. We do sin. We miss the mark all of the time, but my experience (thank goodness) is that that God's grace overwhelms my sins. God invites me into full communion with the universe and all that is in it. At the heart of Christianity is a radically inclusive and relational God who loves this world and burns with a passion for justice.

Here are some responses to the three reasons people stay away from church:

1. "Fearing God" - which is in the Bible quite a bit - is to hold the purity of God's holiness in awe. It isn't an invitation to be afraid. It is an invitation to hold God and all that God has made in wonder and to look upon it all with reverence.

2. My experience of God tells me that there are no easy answers to life, just an invitation to live. The sorrows that we experience aren't sadistic gifts from God, but through them we may find our ability to withstand grow stronger. Sometimes, though, they will almost destroy us. Our community is there to hold us up when we can't stand on our own. Christianity is a pathway and Jesus is our Way. Together we ask questions and stumble along.

3. God's power is overwhelming. I have experienced God's power is a lot of ways. Living the Pacific Northwest, it takes just a glance at Puget Sound, Mt. Rainier, or at the salmon making their way home to spawn to see God's power at work. When I see oceans spinning with hurricanes, I see God's genius at work as the Earth tries to right itself back into balance. But somtimes God's power lies in the tear of someone aching and mourning. God's power is not our power. It is divine. It is generative, invitational, convicting, and persistent. It is not coercive - at least not in my experience.

I have experienced God's love as something wild and God's passion for justice as even wilder. I tell those coming back to church - those who dare to step across the sanctuary threshhold - that God invites us into community to seek together what we haven't found alone. I tell them that church isn't perfect - it is political and flawed and filled with difficult personalities. Church isn't a place to come a order up a slice of personal fulfillment. Church is a community that stumbles together to discover over and over the wildness of God and ways for us to extend that love, grace, and justice into the world.

back to "normal"

We waited during Advent, sang during Christmas, partied for New Year, rejoiced at the Epiphany, and remembered on Baptism of the Lord. Now the holy days are over and we go back to "normal." In the church we have entered normal time or ordinary time. What is wonderful is that we are invited during "ordinary time" to focus on our spiritual growth as we follow the stories depicting the life and ministry of Jesus. This makes "ordinary time" extraordinary.

One of the gifts of being in a small church is that we have the opportunity to get to know one another very well and to embark upon our spiritual journeys together. The intimacy of a small church puts us in much closer relationship with one another than a large, programmatic church. Ordinary time offers those of us in small churches a special time to read and reflect upon the stories of our tradition and to question them together. We have a special gift - those of us in small churches - to dig into the depthes of our faith tradition and to engage one another along our spiritual journeys. There's not much "ordinary" about it at all.

Note for those not raised with a liturgical calendar: The colors of our worship space have changed from white to green. Around my neck, my stole will probably use multiple colors or depict children from around the world.