Christian Role Call

I have a new idea. I have been thinking of beginning every church meeting by asking the present committee members to raise their hands if they have the time and desire to volunteer to do something. It doesn't matter what it is. It might be sending out emails. It might be researching out ideas. Looking up information. Anything that they are willing to do is fine with me. But it would have to be something.

This idea came about from feelings of expressed disappointment by some of the staff and congregants immediately following monthly meetings. Leaving a high energy meeting where the Holy Spirit is tossing out ideas like hot potatoes only to discover that no one has the time to carry through with the vision is a major letdown.

But just think if we figured this out from the moment we sat down together. Not as a shaming activity but perhaps as a form of connecting. The work of the church is always done by a minority of the members...so why should they carry all the pressure to do it all. In times when there isn't the collective labor to carry out ideas perhaps we could spend an hour sitting and listening to those things that were sucking our time and weigh it against those things were we wish our time was being spent. Or wouldn't it be nice to discover in the first five minutes that we can pack up and go home and be with our families. It could serve as a formal opportunity for an already overburdened population to say "no" to one more burden.

The second thing I think this would accomplish is the open acknowledgement of the commitment needed by all people on a committee if any ministry is going to move forward. We come to meetings assuming that the people there are able and willing to put in the time and effort to get their hands dirty and that just isn't the reality of many of our lives. Most of us have the best of intentions but are already overwhelmed by a plethora of demands simultaneously pulling us in various directions at the same time. Pastors are no different. We don't have magic wands to convince everyone to participate and we definitely don't have the budget for the esspresso needed to do it all ourselves.

I had someone once tell me that I should call everyone in the church to personally invite them to a program I was doing. It was the only way people would pay attention...a personal phone call...from me...the person who just put together the entire event. And for awhile I felt guilty for not doing it, especially when attendance was embarrassingly low. But is that really what our ministries have become...another burden that only the guilt of a personal plea would convince a person to take on? Isn't this the exact opposite of why we believe church is just the place for the lost and broken?

Maybe the people we spend our meetings focused on just aren't interested in what we have to offer them but are still in need of what God's love is waiting to bring them. Which means we are getting in the way of the message. A message that doesn't need pretty packaging, a flashy solgan, or a six week program. And while we always (but rarely discuss) the option we have to pack up and go home we also have the option, that before we being planning new classes or expensive projects, to sit with one another and learn first to love and accept those people who God has already set before us. Perhaps it will only be when all the busy-ness of planning and programming is set aside and we face the choice to sit and stay with one another or pack up or go home that we will begin to do what millions of meetings never could: spread the Love and Light of Jesus Christ.

Heart Harvest

Let's face it, there is little that we wait around for anymore-and Christmas is no exception. We've all hear the annual gripping that it's not even Thanksgiving yet and the stores have already slipped in Christmas music, set up aisles with green and red decorations, and filled up their dollar bins with clever stocking stuffers. But for me, as a responsible helper of the big guy with the white beard and red suit, I appreciate the stores enthusiasm. Already I have started hiding secret purchases around the house while counting down the days when all the discrete preparation will pay off in one exciting morning of torn wrapping paper and joy-filled screams of fulfillment by a wild two year old.




Christmas is by far one of my favorite holidays. And since after last Christmas Fiona woke up at 4am for the next six days in anticipation of more sweet rolls and wrapped presents, I would conclude that Fiona also agrees-getting presents is much more fun than being thankful for anything...



So there I was on the tail end of my days Christmas mission at Target, sitting in my car with my Laugh and Learn Kitchen passenger, thinking about what else I needed to purchase and for who and how I was going to afford it (only becoming slightly irritated by the concept that any family could find room in their monthly budget to buy everyone they know a gift!) when standing on the right side of my car under the stop light, I saw a woman. She was dressed in puffy layers of old jackets holding a sign that read, "Family in Need."

Being the narcissists that I am my first inaction was to passively reflect on what a selfish jerk I am. How ungrateful I am for all that I have and how doomed I am to never be satisfied with those things which I already have but don't appreciate. It was a special moment for me in my warm Subaru, just me and my Laugh and Learn Kitchen.



There are consequences for skipping over Thanksgiving. For neglecting an opportunity to take inventory of all that you have and acknowledge the true Owner of all that we hold sacred. In skipping over a holiday that has much more to give than just the extra five pounds from an oversized dinner, we deny ourselves an essential part of preparing ourselves to truly give on Christmas~the reconnection with the reality that we own nothing and that it is only by grace alone that we even have anything to give. Without this understanding, how can we expect to ever be ready to give as the birth of our Savior into this world requires?



For the Israelites, following the Law as written in Deuteronomy was much more meaningful than it might first appear. It is in this annual ritual of bringing the first basket of their harvest to the temple that serves as an open acknowledgment that the land itself is a gift from God. The recitation of God's role in history as the basket is set before the altar reflects the Israelites faith in God's continual deliverance for the future; a communal reminder that even to have anything to give was by God's grace alone.



It is in the act of giving back what was so freely given that the Israelites re-establish the connection to a God to whom which everything belongs. It is in the giving back that their eyes are opened to all that they have been given. It is in the having less of what was never there's that they embrace the reality that it is God's love and grace that has and will sustain them in the years to come.



In many ways this ritual given to us in Deuteronomy may feel foreign and rigid. We live in a society based on individualism. We give how we want and when we want independent of the needs surrounding us and primarily based on our perception of how much we have to spare. The American's voice responds to the text; "No God is going to tell me how to give!" Even worse is when as self identified followers of Jesus, Deliverer of the 'New Covenant', we graciously exempt ourselves from the Laws in Deuteronomy, conveniently forgetting that the road of Discipleship is and the call of the Israelites was a much greater responsibility than a superficial interpretation inspiring someone to bring a fruit basic to church on Sunday.



Deeply embedded in the gift of the harvest to the Temple was an understanding that to give up of what you had was a proper response to God's gift of grace. This was not a voluntary act of charity, a nice thing to do when the people felt like they had more than they needed, but a requirement of fully embracing and living in covenant with the God who had so freely given to them all that they harvested.



Can you imagine a life lived without the backdrop of entitlement? Without the illusion of ownership? Embracing the reality that nothing is owed to us...that everything is a gift given to us for the purpose of being given away. How quickly would we experience the liberation that Jesus promises us if we are to be His followers. For just as the Israelites, we too are chosen people, recipients of the gift of the Son of God who comes to us and frees us from the weight of our burdens.



As contemporary Christians living by the terms of this new covenant established in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus we would like to think we are above the need for such traditions of thanksgiving. We passover the turkey and jump to the gifts before we have even had a chance to reflect on what our harvest is, on what we are really called to give.





But it is in the establishment of the new covenant by Jesus' sacrifice that we see the high cost of our lifestyle choice. For instead of being called to bring a harvest to God, we are called to give our hearts to Jesus. Instead of preparing our harvest into a meal for the 'stranger,' Jesus calls us to prepare our lives as a living offering, that through the actions of our lives and the generosity of our hearts, no one would live without a harvest. In a society where any sense of community and faithfulness has corroded away, it is now more than ever we need a solid tradition of Thanksgiving. An intentional time of remembering all gifts come from God and return to God and in-between, Jesus calls us to serve as stewards of Thankfulness for that which grace alone has put on our tables and in our lives.



We don't pray before meals at our home but this morning sitting at breakfast with Fiona she randomly bowed her head and closed her eyes and said "Mommy! You close your eyes to pray!!" Afraid of the repercussions of not fulfilling the demands of my little terrorist I closed my eyes and bowed my head curious of what was to come next. "Dear God..." Then she looked up and said "Mama, SING!"

This afternoon as I contemplate the leftover place of Thanksgiving in the midst an overshadowing Christmas season I wonder if we can carve out the time to sing praises of thanksgiving over the familiarity of the carols? Can we write new songs reflecting our belief in God's saving grace in our lives today and our faith in God's providential care for us tomorrow? In spite of our cultural perspective, can we sing to our God as we struggle to comprehend the limitlessness of Her love and grace and in that truly find what it is we have to give to God and one another? In the midst of rhetoric about "tight times" and "economic losses" will we pray for the courage to live in relationship to the Jesus who is waiting for the harvest of our hearts and the offering of our lives...to serve the woman standing on the corner with a sign, to comfort the man who sees no harvest to offer in his life, and to sing to our children songs of thanksgiving for the gift we might be in each other’s lives.

Foggy Faith

Even before the Missional Leader Conference this past October I have been struggling with what as a young person feels like the (in)compatibility of the institutional church and living a life as a disciple.

Just a heads up that I think this is probably going to be a theme of many blogs I will post...

I have a very specific vision of God's call for me as a Disciple. So here it is in a blogshell (little pun):

To do justice.
To speak the truth even when it makes skin crawl and eyes roll because how can we possibily progress if we refuse to talk about ambiguously labeled taboo topics. To stand in solidarity with those who have no voice by listening and translating to their message as best I can to those who otherwise could never hear. 

To give without expectation.
We are all given so many gifts. It's easy for me to think I am owed something for sharing them or that I should only give under certain conditions but really all that we have and all that we are was never ours to begin with. Our money, our possessions, our gifts, they are all given to us by God and I am not entitled to any rewards, any outcomes. But I am required to share without expectation.

To make mistakes and learn from them.
I cried today at communion. Well, not all the way but my eyes were watery and I had to pull it together quickly. It was the act of handing a person bread, touching their hand just slighty, and whipering "May you live in peace, knowing that your sins have been forgiven." About the millionth time I said it I started to lose it. To live a life and believe that you have been forgiven liberates us to become more fully the person we are called to be because it creates the grace we need to take risks on others and risks on ourselves.

And in all this, love people.
Not for who you want them to be or who they will become but just as they are. All while realizing that we are all fluid beings progressing and regressing, all while God's activity mysteriously flows around us. My mentor once told me, "Stephanie, be patient with people, realize we are all works in progress."

So, while it might seem like for me it was a great decision to have entered ministry, it is just as easy to lose sight of all of the above in ministry as in any other vocational field. Only, I would argue that its worse because we always talk about doing all of the above while we simulatenously build up walls that box us in from doing any of them well, if at all, and then for me it feels worse than if I had never even tried. We make up rules about membership, we fight about everything, we spend all of our money on a building, we get together every Sunday but nothing really ever changes. And then we have conferences, and meetings, and workshops about why no one new wants to come be a part of our club...

I am not trying to slam the church or invalidate anyone's salvific church experience but these are the realities that all congregations face when trying to be disciples in a church. Come on, I am a pastor! I have more to lose than anyone here. But I signed up for much more than Sunday morning (I gave my life to Christ not just the church) and all I know is that for me I want to find or create or do something different and I think there might possibly be one or two other people in the world who are also searching (fingers tightly crossed) but that I have absolutely no idea what it looks like. None at all. And the reality is that its hard to think about what that might even be without thinking you would lose all that is 'church'...and I am not sure I want that either.

Dear very mysterious God.....It seems like the harder I try to follow you the more lost I get. I would like to request one of the following. What I need is a picture. Or a sketch artist. Or an address I can mapquest. I am looking for the place that is on the corner of Church Street and Discipleship Avenue...

~Insert sound of crickets~

Maybe we could start with this: A sacred space with no walls. Where we fellowship through text and we worship at dinner tables. Where offerings are taken for friends who need health procedures they can't afford or strung out parents need a night out. Where we watch television sitcoms to laugh at our lives and we read Facebook status' to know each others whereabouts. Where there are no members, only an open circle of friends. Where we hold each other accountable to follow through with our wishes and our dreams; that we might give more than we take from this world because in the delicate structure of our community we are holding one another up and in our belief we have nothing to fear, in our faith we have nothing to lose.

Wonder Bread

It just showed up one day. Not sure how it got there, but there it was. This conspicuous white bag decorated with blue, yellow and red dots sitting happily right above the word “Wonder.” I’ve ignored it for weeks. Paying enough attention only to notice that as quickly as it comes, one day it is also gone. And for that period of time when the Wonder has seemingly excused itself life seems to be returning to normal. The kitchen and cupboards free of its recent foreign invasion of decorated Wonder. But then, as unpredictably as it will have come, it will predictably return.

So while I commit my days hypothesizing how this little package keeps showing up on my counter (for surely no 35 year old man would purchase a bread that’s only wonder is its ingredients), you and I find ourselves eavesdropping into a conversation of people badgering Jesus for this miraculous bread.

Could it be? The same bag of mysterious wonder sitting on the counter is the same bread these full bellied seekers are asking for? Is my mystery solved? “I have it! I have your Bread of Wonder!”

Still, the people keep searching.

The people are waiting for Jesus to do something; give us a sign, a sight, a work. In spite of having stuffed stomachs, they tell Jesus; “Bread would be nice. Can you give us bread? The bread of Moses to fill our hearts with the assurance that you, Jesus, are who you say you are…This ‘Bread of Life’ sent from heaven to give life to our world. We’d like to eat it.”

Of course, for us, sitting in the privileged place as objective passerby’s we know these people are asking for the wrong thing. In fact, it’s not really getting something that these people are in need of at all. Self aware of not, they come to Jesus not to get something but to get rid of something. The people are asking for Jesus to take away their Wonder.

It should be something we can relate to. It isn’t often that we come to Jesus or our faith seeking more questions, more mystery, more wonder as often as it is to request bread, to get answers, assurances, signs. Yet just as this incessant wondering about who He is and what His purpose is and how all of this fits into our lives motivates us to ask for Jesus to do more, to give more, we hear Jesus say that it is the work we will do that will deliver the signs and assurances we seek; the work of belief, the work of faith.

And it will be in this work that we will develop our ability to find harmony with the constant wonder living in our lives bringing us to a place of peace with Jesus’ message in this passage. It’s the wonder that we live with in spite of all our searching for signs; the wonder that sits on our counters, quietly coming and going, but somehow always present. And mostly it’s the wonder in the ingredients that make up the miracles that even today, in each of our lives, are awaiting our discovery.

As we enter a time of intentional Thanksgiving perhaps what sticks out most to me in this story is that the bread for which they are asking isn’t even something they need. They have already eaten the miraculous bread in passages before. Their bellies are full yet they come to Jesus and ask for that which they have absolutely no need for, more bread.

We might not like the answer, but in our need for assurance, for signs in the form of the most perishable of forms, Jesus tells us that He is the Bread of Life. That if we come to him with a willingness to do the work of belief and faith, we will see that He has already given us that which will fulfill all of our religious needs and human longings.

But before we can get to this place of awareness and gratitude, before we can be grateful for anything in our lives, we must be aware of that which we have in God. It is less about opening our mouths and more about opening the eyes of our hearts. It is less about filling our stomachs with bread and more about filling our minds with wonder.

As we allow Jesus’ words to resonate in our own lives we can begin to accept that there is no proof or sign that will precede faith or belief. It is not Jesus who we come to for assurance but it is Jesus who we come to for wonder and mystery.

In many ways the first step toward gratitude is believing that there are things in our lives worth being grateful for. It is a life that is built not on the promises of tomorrow but on the miracles of today. As people asking for less wonder and more bread out of our faith; we often miss the nonperishable message of Jesus.

That the miracles of our lives never run out and they never grow stale.

That miracles are rising out of our lives regardless of our awareness of God’s purpose or method.

That if we can mix together these ingredients of faith and belief with the gift that Jesus has already given us then what we receive is the real Wonder Bread; both the wonder and the assurance waiting for us in the risen miracles of our lives.