So we're home from chrch this afternoon and Caitlyn is dancing around the kitchen singing "This is the feast, of victory for our God, Alleluia!" it was a moment that truly cemented the kind of upbringing she's getting, a heavily churched one.
Somewhat abashed
by what happened in the last post, I have avoided posting for a while.
Got back from FCTE this past Thursday and I am so glad that the majority of you have had good experiences.
It needs serious work.
The fellowship and the independent social space elements were very worthwhile, but the content was lacking. And from what I understand, ours is the paradigm of region-wide FCTE, so I guess I just expected more.
Bandied a bunch of ideas around to make it better, perhaps making it nationwide and bringing in a serious heavy-hitter to do some in-depth study for three to five days. Bring in Leonardo Boff, or John Polkinghorne or Desmond Tutu for a weekend and REALLY get into the theology of the matter because while there was loads of practical advice, there was little theology and little that hadn't been covered in Seminary. We could do travel equalization and have it once a year, you'd have to do three in five years to be off of the hook.
Anyway, while my personal experience was good (but then I diverged from the standard set-up) I understand that if this is to be required, I wish it felt more like our participation and indeed our presence were valued by what was presented to us.
Lord of heaven and earth, grant that we are never satisfied with anything but your love. Show us the ways in which our practice of ministry could be better and give us the yearning to see those dreams come to life. Help us build on what is here to make the world of our successors more faithful than the world we inherited. Help us have the courage to tear down that which is wrong so that what is right can stand all the taller for the clearing of the view.
Stricken with Leprosy
Okay, actually it's Poison Oak but it stinks nonetheless .
I've been receiving a lot of oddly phrased, unexpected support lately. Some people who I thought might have mixed feelings about the first five months of my ministry have voiced wholehearted support of what I am doing and what I am thinking of doing in the future. Others have entrusted to me their secrets, their loves and their fears, and in some cases their children in the trust that I can bring something to the conversation that can be of help.
How humbling is that? I'm much more comfortable being criticized for the things I have done wrong than for being praised for the things I'm doing right. Criticism seems to spark new creativity, while praise tells me to not look too deeply into my plans for flaws. I don't know.
Part of the problem is that I have no plan. I have no set of rules for people to follow that will inevitably lead to church growth, that will certainly result in church health. What I do know is the basic truths of the faith, and now it is up to them to see how they must play out in the life of the congregation. Some people are not comfortable with that.
So naturally I'm making plans …
Patient creator and redeemer of all, send down the spirit of truth and light into our gatherins so that we may again see that your Word has come without a rod, without a brand, without a whip, but with a welcoming hand and a loving heart. May we always be mindful of how we protray your word, lest we begin to believe that we can drive people with the gospel. Let us be loving and true to your word in what we say and do, but the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, and not by some new Law.
Rev. Arndt Halvorson
Debbie's Grandfather passed away this morning. She'll fly to Minneapolis on Saturday.
One of the things that people kept telling me about his last few days was how peaceful he seemed. I understand why they would say this because he has had Parkinson's disease these last years and the rigidity that comes with it made it difficult for me (at least) to see the calm, assured man that Arndt surely must have been. In the past few days he has apparently relaxed, his hands and his head sit at rest and there is an air of peace surrounding him.
Church has become the same way. Rigid in defense of "the way things have always been" and other old saws that give comfort but no longer carry any meaning, this clinging to the ways that have left us here (declining memberships, aging congregations, increasing secularity among the churches that are growing, more mangement books on pastor's walls that pastoral care books etc) is beginning to concern me.
The changes that are made are simply for the sake of convenience ("plastic Jesus" communion cups, oil candles, fake trees, printed scriptures rather than the Bible, do I need to continue?) and so the things that are sacred slip away. "We've always done it that way" replaces "I love it when we . . ." because things are done because of tradition and not because of love or joy. Maybe tradition is the wrong word, and habit should replace it. There is a difference.
Why do we have to die to relax? Those management books will tell you that if you relax you'll miss something. I'll tell you that if you don't relax you'll miss something. You'll miss the joy that comes from washing out the communion cups (discipleship group memories, anyone?) or the fun of gathering as a group dedicated to service and swapping "messiest pew" stories, or "not enough wine" or "no gas in the mower" or any of the thousands of opportunities that God gives us to laugh at the idiocy of our efforts toward perfection in service. More than soup kitchens, more than international missions, these stories of our own failings in God's service are what makes us church. If we abandon them, become so rigid and proud that we can no longer feel joy in service, then we might as well open up a starbucks because we will have lost Christ, and the ability to enter anything new into the conversation with the world.
God of our Joy, hear our cries as we feel the pain of the breaking of habits. We will weep over the shards but soon your joy will fill our hearts again as we create something new from the pieces. Give us the relief and relaxation that comes from honest laughter, especially that laughter that we aim at ourselves. We are ridiculous creatures, scrabbling around an uncertain world in search of certainty, in search of the kind of safety that can only be found in the trust in you that is nowhere to be found, because it must come from you and from you alone, as gift. Like the gift of laughter, remind us to cherish that trust so that at the last we may be relaxed and embrace the coming of your kingdom in full glory into our lives as we die.
For Arndt
