Wrestling

Once again, I'm torn. I'm confused. I want answers!

Last month, the Administrative Council voted to start a 'contemporary' worship service on Saturday evenings. Being a fairly staunch traditionalist, I'm feeling quite a bit out of my league. So, as is my nature, I've started doing some research. I went to a psuedo-mega-church in the district on Saturday night to see how they do what they do. I've been speaking to other folks who have similar services to find out their approach to the service and the resources they use. I wish I could say it's helped. But not so much. On the surface, a 'contemporary' or 'current' service (and I really don't like those descriptors, but we use what we have) differs only in music style. But the more people I talk to, the less this seems to work.

This morning, I met with someone on the staff of the big church we went to Saturday night. After a fairly condescending lecture, we got to talking about their philosophy. He began by asking about the reactions we had to Saturday night's service (a group of us went to the church to find out more), which included liking the music, but the service feeling like a performance. He acknowledged the music comment, saying it's the most typical response. We didn't get back to the performance idea until later. He then admitted to me that performance was pretty much their goal. They are a seeker-oriented church, much in the style of Willow Creek. And their goal is to make the worship experience as a basic introduction to Church. Our discussions ranged further than just this topic, but on the whole, the conversation wasn't all that helpful. He didn't appear to have ever spent any time in a small church, which to be honest, limited what he could offer to me and my context. But I just can't get past the performance aspect.

There are many reasons why this is so. On theological levels, it limits the amount the congregation can participate in worship. When we went, aside from the two songs we sang at the beginning, we sat and watched for the rest of the service until it came time for Communion (which, to be fair, I was impressed that they actually did). The lights even dimmed when it came time for the sermon! Several of my seminary profs argued that we are formed as disciples in how we worship. If that's true, then the life of discipleship eminating from this kind of worship is one in which we sit on the sidelines and watch other folks do it for us.

On a practical level, where does all the hoopla end? If this style is what it takes to speak to this generation, then it severely limits who can participate, as far as churches go. We're starting this service and we don't have any live musicians. We can't afford the $5-$20 it takes to get the snazzy videos to show. When we get all the equipment necessary, which we already have some, what else will we have to get? My biggest question is, where, in all of the materialism and entertainment, is the Gospel?

But, on the opposite side of these and many other arguments I have, is the question of if not that, then what? The 'traditional' isn't working, either. Nearly 60-70% of my congregation is over the age of 70. The Bishop is all about adding professions of faith to the rolls and clergy are being watched to see how much we can 'produce' out of the declining and aging congregations we have. Who's right? The seminary profs who say that we're selling our soul or the performance-based churches who are filling their seats and bringing new people to Christ? Which is it? Is it an either-or question? Is there a middle ground? The guy I talked to today suggested not, or at least rebuffed my attempts to find it.

I'm really not sure how to go forward here or in which direction to lead the congregation.

Way Cool

Some of you will remember the homeless ministry I participated in while at Duke. It was a special and formative experience for me. Turns out, the ministry won an award in Durham this year. Even though I haven't been involved since I graduated, it's still an exciting thing. I know pride isn't necessarily a good thing...but I am quite proud of what our group started. You can read about it here.

Politics

Super Tuesday. Tomorrow. Most of you might be thinking, 'so what?' Some of you might think, 'Finally! Now we won't have to hear about it anymore!' For me, though, it's the climax of what's been a fairly exciting race thus far.

Most of you know I'm a political junkie, anyway, but I've really enjoyed watching this whole drama play out. Forget soap operas...this is exciting! (Yes, I'm a nerd. I'm aware and I don't' care.) What makes this even more exciting is that it actually matters. If folks don't think that how we vote matters, go ask the citizens of Iraq. For better or for worse, had we not elected or re-elected President Bush, their lives would be vastly different. And this year it matters a great deal.

There have been lots of positive signs emerge from this primary season...from the record turnouts at primaries and caucuses to the rise in interest from the 18-24 age group. The most exciting aspect for me has to be the great diversity in candidates (not necessarily in their views, though).

Last Thursday, I sat down to watch the CNN debate between Hillary Clinton and Barak Obama. There had been much buildup to the debate, especially after John Edwards dropped out of the race. And perhaps I was overcome by the hype from CNN, but I had chills when that debate began. When the two candidates walked out on stage, I (perhaps embarrassingly) teared up a bit. For my whole life, we've only really read and heard about history-changing events. Whether it be Martin Luther King, Jr. or the assassination of President Kennedy or the even earlier events of women getting the right to vote. It moved me to think that I was actually witnessing a historic event--of the two viable candidates campaigning for their party's nomination--neither one was a white man.

To be sure, I have nothing against white men. I actually like them. I'm related to a lot of them. There's nothing wrong with being a white man. But this is supposed to be a democracy. In a democracy, all people should be represented. And contrary to what some might wish for, this country has quite a diverse population. So why is it that our leadership for the entire history of the country have been significantly less diverse than the country they claim to represent?

When I watched the debate that night, I had high hopes for this country. Finally, we might begin live up to what we claim we stand for--that we're all created equal and that ALL citizens, no matter their gender or skin color. Clearly, we have a long way to go. In conversations with people of varying ages and political points of view, I hear that. Quite frankly, those conversations knocked the winds out of my sails for a while. But I can't quite lose this optimism, this excitement that's gripped me.

I don't know what the future holds. I'm still not even sure who I'm going to vote for tomorrow. But I'm still excited and I'm still hopeful, and with the viability of these two different candidates, I'm starting to like my country again.


PS Go Giants! Long live the 1972 Dolphins!!

Pastoral Expectations

One of the things I struggle with the most as a pastor is the automatic set of assumptions and expectations that come along with the title. At one point, I thought that announcing my vocation would be an exciting thing, something I'd be proud to announce to the world. Boy, was I wrong! Instead, I find myself keeping my vocation a secret until I absolutely must share it. It isn't that I'm ashamed of what I do, but how people perceive me once they find out.

On the way to Ministers' School last week, I had a conversation with a colleague about this. The title of 'pastor' or 'reverend' or 'minister' brings with it so many connotations that it's easy for the rest of me to get lost. Being a pastor is part of who I am, but it does not define me entirely. But once that label gets attached, I feel like some part of me needs to hide, simply because of all the expectations attached to the role.

Case in point: Most Sundays, I join a few of the folks (mostly ladies) from the church for lunch. It's a fun time to hear what went on at church, how they perceived the worship service, and all sorts of other juicy information (but we shan't call it gossip!). This weekend, a couple of the ladies had gone to some sort of concert in a neighboring town. While there, they talked to a man who went to church in that town. His congregation used to be part of a two-point charge that included both his church and mine. So there is some history that at least partly explains his interest. He asked these two ladies, "So, how do you like having a lady minister?" I kind of smile as they tell me this, as it isn't the first or last time I have or will hear of such a question. The next one kind of caught me off guard, though. "What about her being single. Is that a problem?" Excuse me? Sure, I've got some ladies (one in particular) who are keen to get me married off, but why is marriage a part of the check list for what makes a good pastor? Where do these expectations come from?

So it all makes for an interesting situation, at least within myself. It's a catch-22. By being wary of giving out that information, I'm denying part of myself. At the same time, to let it become what defines me has the same effect. Perhaps I'm being a bit sensitive about it all. Could very well be. It's still something that bounces around in my head. I'm not sure what to do with all the assumptions and expectations, especially since they change from person to person. It makes the marriage requirement particularly difficult to fulfill, to be sure. Suffice to say, I'm still trying to figure out how I fit in this vocation, if I do at all. There, by the grace of God, go I.

Christmas, the New Year, and January

First of all, let me just say that I enjoyed not having 6 services on Christmas Eve this year. Instead, we just had the one. A very nice family in the church invited me out to their traditional Christmas Eve trip to Red Lobster (I had chicken) and then the Christmas Eve service began at 11. The nice thing about the sanctuary here is it has varying levels of lighting. We were able to keep it just light enough to read the hymnal, but still dark enough to enjoy the ambiance. We had a good crowd and folks are still raving about it. My thanks to FZ, as I pretty much stole his Christmas Eve idea, complete with O Holy Night.

Christmas morning I made the trek home. It was good to be home for Christmas this year, though it felt a bit strange with only the four of us (Dad, Mom, Paul and myself). It was a very low key day, which I enjoyed.

After a few days at home, I took off to Texas! I got to ring in the New Year with some friends of mine from Duke days. It felt really good to be with people who know me well. Living in a new place, it takes a while for that level of intimacy to build. Thanks to Amanda and Ashleigh for a good time!

And now January has arrived. It's a bit manic, really. I came back for a few days then went to Ministers' School...which was ok. Now I'm back for a few days before two friends from England arrive! I'm so excited to see them! We'll be heading somewhere...destination unknown at this point. I really don't care where we go. I'm just very excited to see them.

That's life in a nutshell right now. Things at church continue to progress. Might try something a bit controversial this weekend. Will let you know how it goes.

Winter Weather

I like winter weather and always have. I love the beauty it creates, I love the coziness of staying inside (though when I worked with the homeless in Durham, it did make me rethink my stance). I really don't mind it all and I'm happy that it often makes us slow down a bit. I'm going to add a qualifier, though: no winter precipitation on Saturday nights.

It's been a bit of a crazy morning. We were supposed to have our Church Family Christmas Dinner. With the relationships within the church on the mend and folks actually enjoying spending time together, I looked forward to our lunch. But nooooooooo. It had to rain. And then snow. And then it got really cold. The snow looks pretty, but the ice on the roads does not. So we (meaning me and my minions) have had to make the decision whether to have church or not. We elected to postpone. It's supposed to warm up later, which will, in theory, melt some of the ice. So we'll have an evening service and dinner afterwards. I'm sure the crowd won't be as large, but as I called around this morning, folks seemed relieved that they wouldn't have to get out in it just yet.

So now I have a rare Sunday morning in. I'm wondering what I'll do with the extra time....

Veterans Day

Last year, in England, I had a particularly difficult Sunday right about now. Remembrance Sunday. The day when all of the UK remembers and honors their war dead. I had managed to get through the first year fairly unscathed. We had done our two minutes of silence in church, I preached vaguely about peace, and I was done with it. Last year didn't go so smoothly. (You can read the post here. Scroll down to the bottom.) I remember feeling quite angry and unfaithful and upset after the event. Interestingly enough, the stewards at that church remarked on an evaluation that, in regards to worship, 'I seemed to have difficulty with some of the peculiarly English services.' They didn't get it. It wasn't about the Englishness of it and my non-English nationality. Instead, it had to do with God's house being used as a place to glorify war and God being identified with a particular nation (we sang the national anthem).

This year, I tried to be sneaky. No one had mentioned to me any particular expectations or traditions of this congregation with regards to Veterans' Day. I thought I had escaped! My hope was to ignore it and then plead ignorance after the fact. Didn't work.

Toward the end of the service, during the offering, I received a note--'Sarah, don't forget today is Veterans' Day!' Oy. I mouthed to the person that I had hoped to ignore it. They didn't seem offended by the idea, but I figured I ought to say something. We finished the offering and all we had left was the last hymn. We were even going to get done early! So I decided to address the issue.

I was honest with them. I told them I had hoped to ignore the holiday and I told them why. I explained my discomfort with merging God and country, faith and nation. Thankfully, we had addressed some of this in Bible study, so I could allude to that experience for credibility. But then I went on to say that often, the only place veterans receive any recognition is in church. I finished off by acknowledging that anytime someone sacrifices for the sake of another, it is a holy action. (At this point, I wondered what I was saying and where in the world I could be going with this little speech!) I reminded them that for all the sacrifice that the veterans had done for us, the ultimate sacrifice was that of Jesus, coming to earth for us, dying on the cross for us. That's our ultimate loyalty. So then after a bit more (can't remember what all I said), I asked the veterans in the congregation to stand and be recognized. There were probably 7 or 8 who stood. They were applauded, I said a prayer giving thanks to God for their example of how to sacrifice for what we believe in, we sang the last hymn and ended the service.

Needless to say, I was a bit nervous giving this little homily 1) off the cuff; and 2) I didn't think it would be a very popular stance to take. Turned out not so bad. Several folks agreed with me afterwards! One veteran said he had been in war and there was nothing Godly about it. Another man (non veteran) said he didn't like to sing 'My Country 'Tis of Thee' in church. At lunch, another veteran said he didn't particularly enjoy being reminded of the atrocities he experienced, that it had taken him over 50 years to feel forgiven for what he had done and did not want to remember some of the things he had been asked to do. When he told me that, it felt like a very holy moment and I was honored that he shared with me.

So I learned two very valuable lessons yesterday. 1) Be honest. Don't be afraid of the reaction, just tell the truth. 2) Don't sell the congregation short. I made assumptions about these folks and turned out to be quite wrong.

I was very humbled yesterday. Thanks be to God.