Church is odd

Let’s face it - church is odd, peculiar. Oh, it’s not so odd for those of us who have been part of “church” for a while, but for folks who haven’t been part of church for a while, or maybe never, church is odd. And if they attend a church like ours, it’s a little more peculiar. We all sit in rows (on hard benches, mind you) and from time to time we get up - then we sit down - and then we get up - and sit down. And we sing. I have to tell you, there’s not a lot of singing going on out there in the world - at least not in one big group. Most people just listen to music. If they sing, it’s usually when they are riding in their car - alone. Or they’re at a Red Sox game (...Sweet Caroline, oh, oh, oh).

Then there’s the reputation issue. We’ve talked about this before, but as we head into the “holiday” season, it’s good to be reminded. People who don’t regularly come to church resist coming because of what they are afraid they might encounter. Judgment. Awkwardness. You just don’t know where people are coming from and what their experience has been when it comes to church. And they think we’re odd. So how we respond when a visitor arrives is really, really important.

Like the story I just read in a book called “Less clutter, less noise” about a man who regularly attends church. He sat down behind a family with a teenage boy playing his Game Boy. As the service started, he became irritated that the boy continued to play his game. The longer the service went on and the boy kept playing, the more agitated the man became. It was on mute but still distracting and unnerving. He was just about to lean forward to ask the boy to put the game away when something caused him to stop. He waited a few minutes, leaned forward, tapped the boy on the shoulder, and said,

“I’ve got the guide with all the moves to beat that game if you want it.”

How about that? What the man did not know was that the teenage boy in front of him was autistic. He also didn’t know that the family hadn’t been able to attend church for years because of their son’s inability to sit still. Imagine how differently things might have gone if the man had instead insisted the boy put the Game Boy away.

Every week we see new faces in our worship gatherings. We don’t know their stories. We don’t know what they are carrying in with them, what kind of heartaches, what kind of dreams, what kind of hopes. And as the author of the book mentioned above says, as a church we seek to offer a message of hope and redemption. But before the people in our world ever encounter that message, they encounter you and me.

So this fall and Advent season, take a moment to look around you. Look for the new faces. Take a moment to remember that they came for a reason; they are looking for something. Looking for hope. Looking for connection. They’ve gotten up their courage to walk through the doors and enter a strange place, with strange (or should I say “odd”) people. What kind of experience will they have? How will they be received?

The answer is up to you.

Grace and peace,

Rick

Repost of United Methodeviations blog

Each spring and fall at Harbor and Marshfield, we host "Pizza with the Pastor" for folks who are considering entering full covenant with the church. As part of the process, each person completes a spiritual gifts survey - very powerful - very insightful - and really helps the folks consider how God has put them together for service and mission. This recent post by Dan at his blog United Methodeviations, is a great reflection on how important spiritual gifts are, and the place they hold in the life of the body. Enjoy.

From his blog....

"I met a man years ago who possessed the true spiritual gift of evangelism. He shared faith in such an authentic and unguarded way that even atheists listened to him with respect. More than any words he said, any actions he took, he simply exuded an assurance and a non-anxious presence. People responded to him in exceptional ways. He wasn’t a biblical scholar, nor was he a studied theologian. He spoke openly from his heart. He shared his convictions and he offered others an invitation to meet his Savior. I have never known anyone else who introduced more people to Christ. He wasn’t overly persuasive, charismatic, or influential, but when he shared his faith it was as if there was a spiritual-chemical reaction. His spirit touched other spirits and lives were changed.

Spiritual gifts tend to work this way. They defy simple explanation. When used well and wisely, the results exceed any rational expectation. An acquaintance from Texas with the gift of giving has made and given away three fortunes, and he is just fifty. A woman in St. Louis with the gift of compassion rallied a community to feed over 500 people each week. A teenager in Colorado with the gift of leadership organized a recycling movement that employs dozens of low income residents. A gifted teacher is named by over fifty successful former students as both the source of their effectiveness as well as the source of their faith. One man with the gift of apostleship sold his business and his home and moved to China, where he serves as a Christian missionary. In so many cases, when people live from their spiritual gifts the result is transformation.

When Barbara and I were doing the research for our spiritual gifts discovery process, Equipped for Every Good Work, we discovered that only about 5% of laity and 7% of clergy were aware of their spiritual gifts. If the biblical admonition to be good stewards by serving one another with whatever gift we have been given is valid, shouldn’t we at least know what those gifts are? It is impossible to use well what we don’t even realize we possess. And yet, if we can trust the apostle Paul, each of us has gifts empowered by the very Spirit of God. Each of us is equipped with standard spiritual equipment to do amazing things.

But gifts seem to lie dormant in many people. Hundreds of people have said to me over the years, “I don’t have any gifts.” Don’t believe it. To the extent that we are created in God’s image and as brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ, we ARE gifted. It cannot be otherwise. Discovering, exploring, developing, improving in our use of, and sharing our gifts is at the heart of the life of Christian discipleship. It isn’t ever that we don’t have gifts, only that we don’t understand how to use them (or don’t see our gifts as we use them). Often in the process of gifts discovery someone will say, “My highest gift is x, but I don’t see that as my gift.” Immediately, others in the group will begin to argue with the person, affirming that indeed they do have a particular gift. So discovery is important, as is understanding, but there are a couple other important factors as well.

First, gifted people are most effective when they are grounded in prayer and spiritual reflection. Prayer is the energy source that fuels our spiritual gifts. Like tools intended for specific purposes, spiritual gifts are most effective when employed to do God’s will. The best way to discern the will of God is in prayerful community, seeking together a vision of what God calls us to do and be. Spiritual reflection helps us to clarify what we believe God calls us to do and how we can best work together to achieve success. No spiritual gift is adequate unto itself. We need the gifts of others to maximize the impact and value of our own. Teaching is much more effective when linked with knowledge, wisdom, discernment, and leadership. Healing is more powerful when linked with compassion, faith, servanthood, and administration. Evangelism is more effective when linked with prophecy, discernment, exhortation and shepherding. Together we are always greater than the sum of our parts. We are much more successful as the body of Christ, instead of a bunch of disconnected body parts.

Second, we need to practice. As with anything else we want to get really good at, using our gifts requires active, intentional engagement. And not just AT CHURCH. The gifts have not been given to us so that we can serve the needs of the local church. The local church exists that we might be equipped with our gifts to BE the church for the world. Certainly, we may be able to use our gifts to support the mission and ministry of a local congregation, but our gifts don’t belong to the church with a little “c” — they belong to the “Big C” church. Spiritual gifts define us as the body of Christ. We live most effectively from our gifts when we use them at home, at work, at school, driving down the street, when we’re out shopping, as well as when we gather in our church buildings. Our gifts allow us to witness to our relationship to God in the normal, ordinary things we do each and every day.

Third, we need to value and celebrate our spiritual gifts. Ours is a culture that devalues “soft” skills. Wisdom, compassion, discernment, prophecy, helping, exhortation (encouragement), and faith are often ignored or taken for granted because they are less tangible or obvious than other gifts. We rarely make as big a deal over the gift of time or energy as we do money or material goods. Many gifts work “below the surface” — they are not noticeable, even though they are critical for success. Unintentionally, we may show preference for leadership, giving, teaching, healing or administration, simply because they are more visible. To study, discuss, explore and investigate spiritual gifts helps us recognize the gifts in everyone — offering the whole congregation something to celebrate.

Every person is gifted. Beyond spiritual gifts, we possess unique knowledge, experience, wisdom, skills, talents, and abilities. Additionally, we each harbor deep passions and interests that help define who we are. At its best, the congregation is a place where we can explore, develop, and combine our gifts to achieve amazing results. And what is true of individuals is also true of entire faith communities. When one gifted congregation joins other gifted congregations, the whole world can be transformed. A vision for such unity is well worth pursuing, and the catalyst for such global conversion is already within our grasp — gifts from God given to us all."

Painting on wet canvas

Recently Lori and I went to hear pastor and author Rob Bell speak at the Berklee Performance Center in Boston. It was a powerful presentation, and during his talk, Rob referred to a book entitled “Art & Fear” by David Bayles and Ted Orland. Intrigued, I got the book and only a few pages in read these words:

“One of the basic and difficult lessons every artist must learn is that even the failed pieces are essential. X- rays of famous paintings reveal that even master artists sometimes made basic mid-course corrections (or deleted really dumb mistakes) by overpainting the still-wet canvas. The point is that you learn how to make your work by making your work, and a great many of the pieces you make along the way will never stand out as finished art. The best you can do is make art you care about...The rest is largely a matter of perseverance.”

The paragraph strikes me as a great description of the spiritual life, and life in Christian community. Even our failed “pieces” are essential. The time we failed to get the job. To meet the deadline. We failed to remember the birthday, the anniversary. We failed to love our neighbor. We failed to serve the poor. We failed to be an obedient church. We failed to forgive. In those times, it’s important to remember that we are “God’s work of art” (Ephesians 2:10). We are work in progress. God’s Spirit, acting in and through us, continues to mold us, making those “mid- course” corrections, overpainting the still-wet canvas of our lives.

And one of the great truths repeated in scripture is the key role perseverance plays in all of it. Paul writes to the church in Rome: “We boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” The failures, the moments of “suffering,” produce perseverance, which shapes the very character of our lives. Perseverance allows us to make those mid-course corrections. It gives God a chance to paint on the canvas of our lives.

Rob Bell told a story of an experiment in which two groups of people were told to produce art. One group was told that it was to only produce one piece in a given amount of time, and for it to be the very best piece it could possibly be. The second group was told to produce as many pieces as possible in the same amount of time given. At the end, the works were compared. And it turned out that every single person in the second group produced a work of art far superior to any of the pieces in the first group. The first group spent its energy studying about great works of art, but very little time actually making art. The second group learned as it created, making those mid-course cor- rections as they went. It turns out that it really is a matter of perseverance.

The same is true for following Jesus. We learn as we go. But we must go. Perseverance implies movement - activity. “You learn how to make your work by making your work.” So we learn how to forgive by making our- selves present and vulnerable to the community of other followers, forgiving and being forgiven. We learn to pray by praying with and for the community. We learn to worship together, to serve others in need, to understand Jesus’ memoirs (the New Testament) by actively participating in the activities of the life of community. What we find is that as we go, with God alongside us every step of the way, we learn how to be the church. The Artist of artists, the most creative of Creators, continues to shape us into the masterpiece we were always meant to be.

Let the church say: Bravo!

What men want women to know about men

A video highlighting this week's message at The Harbor & Marshfield Church. Plan on joining us!

Single Minded Devotion

As part of my reading this morning, I read what I think is one of the most challenging and on point paragraph's I have read in some time. It is the opening paragraph of chapter 3 in Brennan Manning's book "The importance of being foolish." It goes like this:

"There are certain burning questions that every Christian must answer in total candor. Do you hunger for Jesus Christ? Do you yearn to spend time alone with him in prayer? Is he the most important person in your life? Does he fill your soul like a song of joy? Is he on your lips as a shout of praise? Or has he been smothered by distractions, nullified by pride? Do you eagerly turn to his memoirs, his Testament, to learn more of him? Do you thirst for the living water of his Holy Spirit? Are you making the effort to die daily to anything and everything that inhibits, diminishes, or threatens your friendship with him?"

Wow!! Now having served as pastor for over 8 years, these questions hit close to home. Do I burn with the same fire for Christ as I first did? Am I focused on Jesus or is my focus on the "work" of Jesus? Am I distracted by the work to the expense of a growing relationship with Christ? Some days, I must confess, Jesus loses out to church work. There are things that I must die to in order to make more room for him and my relationship with him.

How about you? Is Jesus the most important person in your life?

The Limits of Memory

I posted a link to this article of my FB but it needs to be posted here as well - an outstanding reflection on today by Dan Dick on his blog. Here's the full text:

I was talking with a colleague who is scheduling some work in south Manhattan. He shook his head and shared, incredulously, that he wanted to come in the second week of September to meet with ecumenical leadership and they wouldn’t do it because of September 11th. He looked at me and said, “Man, why don’t they just get over it!”

The comment took me by surprise. 9/11 is a defining moment for the United States in the 21st century. Not only the day and the tragic event, but major decisions following it that have impacted the entire planet. It is difficult to get over something that is still going on. But there is a larger factor at work for me, and it has to do with our national identity. I guess I’m not sure we have one. The structures of community are so fractured in the United States, and the rampant consumeristic individualism makes any kind of “us” tenuous at best. (Look at the current debate over universal health care. Those who ”have” see no value in providing for those who don’t. So long as “us” is cared for, “them” can fend for themselves.) And that is the crux of my friends comment: he’s from Kentucky — 9/11 didn’t happen to him, it happened to “them” (New Yorkers), and because “they” won’t let it go, it inconveniences him.

The same sort of thing happened with hurricane Katrina. In the moment and the immediate aftermath, there was a great outpouring of compassion, aid and support. But that was then, this is now. Forget the fact that entire communities are gone and have yet to be rebuilt. Forget that thousands are still struggling to survive in new and different lives. Forget that recovery work is way behind, and in many places has halted altogether due to lack of funding and relief workers. Katrina was four years ago. “They” should just get over it.


If our faith — both in its Jewish roots and Christian transformation — tells us anything it is this: we are one. There is NO “them.” What happens to the least of these happens to the Christ, and what hurts any of us hurts all of us. For the Jews, sin wasn’t something that a person did wrong, sin was a condition that affected everyone. If one sinned, all sinned. The community, the culture, was only as strong as its weakest member. That is why there is such a strong emphasis in the Hebrew faith on responsibility. When we see someone in trouble and help them, it makes the whole community stronger.

Many Christian leaders today point to the early church as described in Acts 2 as some marvelous aberration. Today, of course it is. We don’t think communally. We operate from an ego-centric entitlement mentality. The only reason one would go to church is because one gets something from it. We don’t go to give or to be, we go in order to get. We want to be taken care of, taught, inspired, comforted, coddled, and conformed. Place too many demands on us, impose expectations, hold us accountable and we will go somewhere else. But in Jesus’ day, and the time immediately following, what is described in Acts 2 was not all that exceptional (except that it centered in the teaching of the apostles). “We” was more important than any “me,” and what defined “us” from “them” was challenged. One of the central tenets of Pauline theology was a global, universal salvation — a movement to eliminate any concept of “them” — neither slave nor free, male nor female, gentile nor Jew, for Jesus destroyed the dividing walls of hostility and ALL could be ONE in Christ.

A few years ago I spent some time with a small group of Jicarilla Apache’s in New Mexico. I was privileged to sit with them in a service of remembrance where they lamented many tragedies from their past, but the focus of the service was on the future. They asked for reconciliation, that they might become one people with the ancestors of those who had taken so much from them, that they might make amends for the violence on both sides in their past, and that in time the “brotherhood” could erase all differences and pain. They engaged in a variety of rituals of remembrance that brought to my mind communion.

Why was it so important to Jesus that the twelve remember? Why did he imprint his life, teaching and mission on them in his final time? I think it is because without memory there is no heart and soul. We lose compassion. We become hard. We see life differently. When we forget, we are made less. Without reminders of who we are, what’s really important, and why we’re here, we end up just drifting through our days.

September 11, 2001 — eight years ago. A long time, and no time. A tragedy both unique and ordinary. Part of the painful shock of that day was the realization that what happened daily to “them” around the world could actually happen to “us.” We came to the shocking conclusion that maybe we weren’t so special, weren’t so different, after all. We had a brief glimpse of the truth that we need each other, and that the only way we can get through these things is together. We may have missed a golden opportunity as a nation to become one with the larger global community in the weeks following 9/11, but we should never forget what a life-changing experience it was and continues to be. It didn’t just happen to the people in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Washington D.C., and the diverse spots called home by the passengers on the planes and in the buildings. It happened to the human family, it happened to the global community, it happened to all of us and we all should remember — and by remembering we should commit ourselves to find ways to make sure it never happens again — to any of US.

On the eve of 9/11

In one of the many blogs I read, I find an astounding reflection on the anniversary of a day that changed life for many - 9/11. You can, and should, read it HERE.

God's peace,

Rick