I’ve been examining the idols on my mental shelf and have come to an interesting discovery.  Apparently, I have swapped out idols over the years.  Fame and fortune have been pushed to the side (perhaps due to the realization that neither were likely to happen) and have been replaced by the Idol of the Should.

You know this idol.  It often takes the form of a List.  It represents all of the things that we should be doing in order to be the person we should be.  If we were only able to complete the list, we know we would be happy.  Alas, worshipping this idol only brings about feelings of stress, guilt and incompetence.  

Organizations also worship the Idol of the Should. 

I first encountered this in one congregation where I distributed a survey regarding Adult Education opportunities.  I asked three questions:  1) what would you like to see taught?  2) what day/time would be best for these offerings and 3) would you attend a class if it were on a topic you were interested in and at a time you would be available?  Of the thirty respondents (a statistically significant number based on congregation size), nearly half indicated with great specificity the topics that interested them as well as the time they could attend…. but also stated that they would likely not attend.

In other words, they wanted their church to offer a Sunday morning class on the Book of Revelation, but they themselves would not attend that class.  They wanted to belong to a church that offered this… because they believed a church should offer this… but they themselves would not participate.  (Please feel free to swap in almost any other programmatic aspect of church life for “Adult Education” to get similar results.)

We worship at the Idol of the Should when we evaluate our current reality, but also when we remember our past.  “We should have pasta night, because we’ve always had pasta night.”  “The choir should sing that anthem for Palm Sunday, because we always sing that anthem.”   Each time we bow our knees to the Idol of the Should we find ourselves bound by expectations that are not always driven by our core values… but rather are motivated by a false sense of who we are, or who we think we are called to be.

You might be asking, are there some things an organization really should do?

Absolutely.   

It might be helpful to look to the foundational documents of the organization (for instance, in my denomination the Six Great Ends of the Church are a great starting point). Evaluating how much your current organization is in line with the original intent can be eye-opening. Of course there are times when the impetus for an organization is no longer in play (the March of Dimes is a classic example). If that is the case, are the core values that might translate to a new reality? What are the needs of the community in which you serve? What is essential in order for that to happen? These are the “should” you, well, should pay attention to.

As for me? I’m packing this particular idol away. I can see that the one behind it is the Idol of Niceness. Perhaps I’ll tackle that one next?

There was a University of Rochester study done deep in the bowels of the campus many years ago.  The researchers tracked the difference in how men and women processed changes in direction.  Men, it turns out, pay more attention to the metrics of distance and time.  Women are more attuned to visual cues. 

What this means is that (in general) if you give a man directions, you should focus on how long he should drive before making the turn, whereas women (in general) prefer to be told to make that same turn at the large green house.

We access our world in different ways and therefore, in order to communicate clearly we need to learn to speak both languages.

Isn’t it amazing we get anywhere at all?   And if communicating is difficult between individuals, think of the challenges facing organizations… or in my life, churches who hear things and process things in ways that are unique to their own cultures.  No wonder communication is a challenge!

Organizations struggle with metrics.  

My denomination recently rolled out something called the “Matthew 25 Initiative”.  One of my biggest concerns was how this could best be communicated to our congregations.   In many ways, this initiative is a counter to our old narrative of division.  This initiative points us in the same direction, regardless of whether we measure the journey in miles or in landmarks.  

I’m suggesting my churches keep the following in mind:

1) Think of this initiative as a set of compass directions, and not a travel guide. This initiative offers three different directions: congregational vitality, eradicating poverty and dismantling racism. It doesn’t offer a complete program to perform.

2) This is unexplored territory in many ways… and although there is a general sense of what we mean when we say “congregational vitality” each church has their own journey.  Consider that this journey has no indicators of mileage and no landmarks to navigate by…. which means we will all be a bit disoriented (and that is ok!).

3)  The destination will keep moving on the map – which is why these are compass directions (walk west!) as opposed to a definitive map (you’ve arrived!).  

4)  The joy of the journey is often found in the companions on the road.

And of course, it all begins with a single step.

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to hear Lorrie Day Anson preach from the narrative lectionary (one of the perks of my work is getting to hear great preachers!).  The passage was a familiar one from the second chapter of Mark:  

“No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. Otherwise, the new piece will pull away from the old, making the tear worse. And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, they pour new wine into new wineskins.”

Lorrie wove into her sermon a commentary by Angela Dienhart Hancock^[1] that spoke about blending the new with the old.  Hancock points out that it is possible to apply a new patch to old fabric… if that patch is preshrunk.  As for new wine and old skins?  They can’t be merged, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be useful in their own ways.

Mind.  Blown.

As a society, we have assigned (random?) value to age.  Throughout the church, leadership paints with broad-brush strokes and makes assumptions that what is new is essentially good, or that what is traditional is what is true.  

What is needed is not a one-era-fits all mentality to congregational vitality, but rather a contextual analysis of what is working and what is not.

What is needed is an ability to put aside ownership of our traditions as well as idolatry of all that is new and shiny in order to discern where God is calling each congregation to serve.

There will be times when it will be necessary to apply a new patch to an old garment.  Done well, this can continue (and expand!) the ministry of that congregation.  There will be other times when the parable of the parallel usage is a better option – both new wine and old wineskins both having purpose but in different settings.

Of course, the process of contextual evaluation is far more difficult than either a) buying a drum set for worship or b) vetoing a drum set.  It requires leadership to deeply listen to folks in the pews, as well as those outside the walls.  It also requires an openness to the movement of the Spirit.  Where is God calling us to go?  Who is God calling us to be?  How are we doing at effectively spreading the transformative love of Jesus Christ?

Church, we know how to do this.  We regularly take that which is ancient and allow the Spirit to breathe new life into it.  We preach from a text that is 2000 years old, and worship a God who is Alpha and Omega. 

Let us do the hard work of being the church.  Together.

Blessings –

Karen

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^[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/?lect_date=01/12/2020&lectionary=nl

This past Saturday, the Leadership Team of Cayuga-Syracuse met for a “Summit”.  Like many councils (Session, the Theater Board, C-Suite gatherings) our normal meetings are usually caught up in the fiduciary – or required – parts of our work.  Bills need to be paid.  Forms need to be filed.  Stuff needs to be voted on.  That work is critical to managing the life of the organization.  Sometimes we have time to do some strategic work, but not often. 

We’re managing an organization.  It’s time-consuming work. As a Presbytery?  We’re managing.   Just managing.

Leadership is the sweet spot between doing that fiduciary work, strategic planning as well as generative work.  When we are able to do all three, we are leading.^[1]  If we’re not doing all three, we’re working only in a managerial capacity.

It can be helpful to understand the three different aspects of governance in looking at the questions they answer:

Fiduciary:  What’s wrong?  (Fix the problem, balance the budget…)

Strategic:  What’s the plan?  How will we do stewardship/worship this year? 

Generative:   What’s the key question?  Why are we here, and who has God called us to be?

In my experience, church boards often relegate the generative work to the brief Bible study or prayer at the beginning of the meeting… and then it often serves as a reminder that God is in the room, and not a push to ask deeper questions.  When we don’t engage with generative questions, our organizations can lose touch with who they are.  We forget our very purpose, and instead focus on maintaining the status quo.

I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to apply this to our individual lives. I know I would live my life differently if I spent more time asking the generative questions… and lining up my priorities with the answers I receive. Why am I here? Who has God Called me to be?

Interested in sharing ideas about how to spend time in the generative zone?  Or how to reframe questions that move the conversation from fiduciary to strategic or generative and how to time that?  Me too!  I don’t have all the answers, but I’d love to talk with others about this.  Join me for a “Salon” on Thursday, February 13^th at 11 a.m.

Blessings –

Karen 

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^[1] Chait, R. P., Ryan, W. P., & Taylor, B. E. (2011). Governance as leadership: Reframing the work of nonprofit boards. John Wiley & Sons.

You don’t know this, but I can speak several languages.

According to Duolingo, I’m well on my way to fluency.  This means I can ask “Does anyone know where we are?” in Italian, Dutch and German.  I have no doubt at some point this knowledge will be helpful.

Of course, the time it actually takes to learn a language is much longer than what the various sellers of apps suggest.  Fluency comes when we move beyond vocabulary into the difficult work of grammar.  Some studies suggest that what happens as we become immersed in another language is that our brains are “rewired”.  Some of our brains take longer than others…. but you knew that.

That promise of quick and easy results finds resonance in other areas of our lives.  The promise of speed is expressed in every drive-through and EZpass booth, diet plans and get-rich-quick strategy.  We want everything yesterday, and if that isn’t deliverable, we want it now.  

Congregations fall prey to this as well.  We implement new programs, websites and music and expect immediate returns.  Once we are convinced that there needs to be change (interestingly, the one thing folks complain is often done too quickly!) whatever change scheme we implement needs to create the desired effect immediately.

The problem is that often the only thing we’ve learned is to ask the question “Does anyone know where we are?”.  We’ve not actually learned a new language or a new way of being, but instead we’ve developed the skills to allow a reasonable facsimile of the required syllables to spill off our tongues.  It’s all surface and “eye-wash”, and that required brain rewiring hasn’t taken place.

Unless…

Unless the new language we are trying to speak is love.

What if the changes we implement in our churches is not to attract new members, but to help us love new members?  What if the language we learn is one where we listen to the needs of those outside our walls and to pray for those needs and address them as we are able?

It’s not our brains that need rewiring.  It’s our hearts.  “If I speak in the tongues of humans or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

It’s not what we are doing, but rather why we are doing it.

I have several rules of engagement when reading online news articles.  One is to not read the comments, as they will almost always lead to despair and frustration with humanity in general.  The second rule is to never respond to those comments.  Ever.

See, I know there is danger in looking at things you don’t want to see.  It can change how you perceive the world.

Christmas day I read a piece by CNN reminding those who believe in the Christian narrative that Jesus was a refugee.  I looked at the comments.  I responded.  Here is what I learned:

1)  Those rules for online engagement (see first paragraph) are smart.  

2)  Many people who comment on articles do not actually read the article.

3)  People (myself included) are often more interested in proving how right they are than in learning from others.

I also learned that there are a number of folks across this nation who attend church regularly who have never heard the story of how Mary, Joseph and Jesus fled Herod’s wrath and sought refuge in Egypt.  (As an aside, the word used here in the Greek is pheuge…. which is the root word for the English refuge/refugee).

This story is important because it tells not only of the flight to Egypt, but it also bears witness to what occurred under Herod’s rule.  It speaks of the meaningless slaughter of innocents who were killed because they were Jewish boys of a certain age in a certain region (see Matthew 2).

This story is important because it continues to occur in various iterations in our time – be it the attack on Jews celebrating the last day of Hanukkah at their Rabbi’s home, the incarceration of people of color at disproportionate rates, the rising numbers of school shootings or the number of LGBTQ suicides.  Indeed, Rachel continues to weep for her children.

All too often we end the story of God’s incarnation with the shepherds wandering back to their sheep, or the wise ones showing up at the door bearing gifts and we look away from what happens next.  We look away from the refugees, and from those persecuted and grieving as we put away the decorations for next year and make lists of goals for the next year.  We prefer our Bible stories to be quaint and not filled with violence.  We prefer our faith to not challenge us, and we prefer that our faith not be challenged.

What happens in Matthew 2 is a startling reminder that there have always been unjust rulers and violence.  Grief and pain were not solved by the birth of Jesus.  At the same time it is a reminder that God isn’t distant from what is occurred. God Incarnate is in the midst of this madness as a child who fled persecution to another country with his parents.  Here we recall that Jesus wasn’t born into a world that looks like a Hallmark movie, perfect family dinners or calm and gentle nights. Jesus was born into a world of strife.  He was born into our world.

If you’ve peered over the shoulders of shepherds this Christmas, if you’ve looked in the manger… don’t look away now.  You can wisely choose not to look at the comments, but as people of faith, do not look away from the unfolding story of the incarnation. This is God in the middle of all of it.  This is God with (all) of Us.

We’re two candles into Advent, which means that some of congregations spent this last Sunday talking about peace.  Of the four themes of Advent, it’s arguably the one theme that is easier to talk about than to enact (go ahead, argue with me… prove my point!).

Some describe peace as the opposite of war.  Others identify peace as a lack of conflict.  Martin Luther King stated:  “True peace is not the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice”.  

“Give peace a chance.” – Lennon

“Let peace begin with me…” – Miller, Jackson-Miller

“All I want is some peace and quiet!” – Parents and Teachers.  Everywhere.

In The Anatomy of Peace^[1], the authors offer that when we see others as objects (as opposed to human beings) we begin an escalation of violence.  In fact, beginning to see someone else as an object is an act of violence against that individual.  Another Martin (this one, Buber) distinguished between understanding others as either “I/Thou” or “I/It”, with the ultimate Thou being God.  

When we objectify others we categorize them (In-laws, Democrats/Republicans, Immigrants and Refugees, Israeli/Palestinian) and see them as that which occupies space and time, but do not see them as someone we are in relationship with.  We may see them in terms of their value to us as opposed to their value as intrinsic. Chances are good you’ve been on either side of this equation

Why is this important?  Because we who talk about peace cannot have peace until we bridge the gap.  

The words that have become the central themes of Advent^[2] may have a questionable beginning, but they aren’t for wimps.  Words like joy, hope, love and peace challenge our way of thinking and being in a way that echoes the readings from the prophets and the promise of the Second Coming of Christ.  These are life-changing words… if they become more than just words.

In other words, Peace should be more than a nice idea on a banner.  It needs to be a life-changing way of seeing others in our families, communities, churches and world.

My challenge to you this week is to consciously choose to see everyone you meet as a person – complete with feelings, thoughts and agency.  Don’t see them as your friend, neighbor, spouse, child, waitstaff, clerk, pastor, etc. See them as THEM.  Bonus points this week if the individual you are seeing in this way is someone you’ve disagreed with.

Let peace begin with me, indeed.

Blessings –

Karen

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^[1] Ferrell, J., & Boyce, D. (2015). The anatomy of peace: Resolving the heart of conflict. Berrett-Koehler Publishers

^[2] Loosely based on the lectionary readings, but codified by the Christian supply companies… the folks who sell bulletins, etc.  That’s right, they were a marketing tool.

I knew we were deep in it when I overheard a man wearily talking about the three different types of stuffing he was preparing for Thanksgiving (let the debate about stuffing vs. dressing commence!).  His plan was to make something to please his new mother-in-law as well as his father.  The final stuffing was his own preference, or as he referred to it, a “dealer’s choice”.

Many of us are hard at work pleasing folks this time of year.  From gifts to cards… even where we decide to spend our holidays can be geared around the needs and desires of another.  To please someone is to satisfy their needs or desires, sometimes at the expense of our own.

Churches get into the swing of ‘pleasing’ as well.  I recall several pastors who have said to me over the years that during this season they try to have something for everyone!  In my last church, we came up with the idea of doing a holiday hymn sing prior to the Christmas Eve service so that on that night, everyone’s favorite carol could be sung.   

There is nothing wrong with pleasing others… unless it is making you miserable.

That guy with the stuffing seemed regret his decision to make three variations of the same dish.  The woman at Target buying a ton of plastic for her children didn’t seem as jolly as that task would warrant.  There were some Christmases when this pastor barely had the energy for Christmas Eve, let alone a full hymn-sing.

Pleasing others can be exhausting.  Of course, the opposite isn’t healthy either.  Those who work to only please themselves become mean and embittered.

It is no accident that during this “Pleasin’ Season” we tell the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge.  Dicken’s Scrooge is a model of someone who initially only pleased himself.  At the end of the story he figures it out, and his life changes not because he wants to please others, but out of an abundance of spirit.  Scrooge on Christmas morning is an image of generosity which is in stark contrast with someone who is focused on pleasing others.   The difference between generosity and pleasing folk is, well, as different as stuffing and dressing.  

As you go about Advent, and as you prepare for Christmas, are you seeking to please others?  Or are the gifts you give and the time you spend offered out of your own joy?

Wishing you generosity and joy this season!

The other night I was visiting with church leadership and the perennial debate came up.  No, not the one about playing Christmas hymns during Advent… the one about whether the church is a business.

Is it?

Certainly, there is a business like aspect to being the church. There are often employees, budgets, buildings and boards.  We could argue that our product is one of service; offering to those in the community an opportunity to worship, much in the same way a theater offers shows.

But Jesus didn’t pray “Our Boss… who art in heaven..” and Paul referred to us as not as work colleagues, but as siblings in Christ.  If anything, the church most resembles a family – a dysfunctional, quirky, much-in-need-of-grace family.  

That doesn’t mean we should throw our budgets, policies and procedures out the window, any more than a family should forgo keeping the checkbook balanced and the chore-chart on the refrigerator.  Even the best of family systems rely on best practices.  Some even place their behavioral contract and/or mission statement on signs inside their home.  Several families in my last congregation had this sign hanging in their kitchen:  “In this house… we are real, we make mistakes, we say I’m sorry, we give second chances, we have fun, we give hugs we forgive, we do REALLY LOUD, we do family, we Love.”

How we understand the nature of the church frames our expectations of the church.  

How we understand the nature of the church frames our expectations of the people in the church.

How do you see your church?  Is it a family, a fellowship, a business?  How does that frame change how you see those next to you in the pew?  How does that shape your understanding of those outside the church walls?  

As the writer of Ephesians states:  So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

Let us be so.

Blessings,

Karen

“What happens if this doesn’t work?”

It’s a good question.  The statement under the question is “this isn’t going to work”. It’s been used in our family (generally thought, not spoken) whenever Dad jury-rigged something that had cords.  Dad was trained as an electrical engineer, which is far different from being an electrician.  The man would test if a wire were live by licking his fingers and touching it.  Yes, he’s still with us, wonderfully, amazingly so.  Perhaps more amazing is that most of the time, what he wired DID work.

“What happens if this doesn’t work?” is a question I hear in my visits with folks around the Presbytery.  The question is generally in reference to my position, which is held together with duct-tape and approximately two years of funding.  

Of course, most congregations aren’t strangers to the question.  They ask it of themselves as they Call a new pastor, or make adjustments to an already lean budget.  

It’s a good question.

It’s the wrong question.

The question we should be asking is: “What happens if this DOES work?”

If this does work… will more lives be changed?

If this does work… will God’s kin-dom* expand?

If this does work… will more children be fed, more folks have housing, more people experience justice and mercy?

If this does work… will it mean that more people experience the transformative love of God?

In the Book of Order (part of the Presbyterian Constitution) there is a section that states:  The Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life. (F.10301).  If we dwell on the “what if it doesn’t work” question, we will find ourselves paralyzed and concerned with sustainability.  Everything is dust, my friends.  

The better question leads us back to ponder whether or not our decisions help us to be a community of faith.  It’s a question that begs us to lick our fingers and touch the bare wire to see if it is live… and to see if it is life-giving.  Try it at your next meeting… you may find the results to be empowering or even shocking!

Blessings –

Karen