Mermaid Sunday

It began last summer with a question about unicorns and has continued into 2019 with Mermaid Sunday.

The request came mid-summer of 2018, and was not as off the wall as one might think, given that the summer schedule already included a Unicorn Sunday and Superhero Sunday. Perhaps it was the warmth of the season, but I found myself distressed – what if someone thought it was a good idea to show up in church wearing a coconut shell bra? I called a friend that had already been briefed on my Summer Road Trip plan and asked – what do I do? We talked it out. I was short a themed worship service for August, a rough month for transitions in that tradition might hold that summer does not end until the sun sets on Labor Day Monday and yet our present reality is that school is back in session by the second week of the month. The idea of something aquatic was attractive, perhaps we could move from a Mermaid theme to a Beach theme? I have as many issues with loose sand as I do loose glitter, so we moved on. What about Aloha? A word that means hello and goodbye? More on that later. 

I’ll move the narrative to late fall. I was discussing winter worship themes with our music staff, and my mermaid advocate reflected that it might be nice to have a warm and fun Sunday in February. We looked at the calendar, and the 3^rd Sunday looked like a plausible option; a week after our church’s traditional Valentine luncheon, and also the Sunday before General Conference – a good time to spread some joy in the life of the congregation.

Our focus scripture, “I will teach you to fish for people,” came from the previous week’s lectionary (Luke 5:1-11). Who better than a mermaid to know what it’s like to call forth people? For hymns we chose “Jesus Calls Us,” “Two Fisherman,” and “Lord, You Have Come to the Lakeshore.” For kids time, I was prepared to either discuss mermaids or to hand out seashells, depending on the age of the people who decided to join me. I draped a blue length of fabric on the altar with a prop net, found a few votives that seemed reminiscent of sea glass, added a lantern to evoke the notion of a lighthouse, and piled up some royal blue tulle I bought at the church yard sale to look like waves. 

A note about content - I led with references to both the original Little Mermaid, written by Hans Christian Anderson, and Disney's 1989 movie of the same name. A wise friend pointed out to me during my preparation stage that while I, the daughter of Danish immigrant, might assume that this fairy tale might be people's primary reference point... others might be most familiar with the more recent movie which works from the original story as source material but "fixes" a number of the darker aspects. The original is easily found at your local library or online as a download; I'd encourage anyone planning a mermaid event to read the entirety of the original, perhaps with a hot beverage and snack. The part of the original I found most encouraging comes at the end, when the little mermaid finds immortality not because of the actions of her father or a prince, but because she is scooped up, named and claimed by the Spirits of the Air who assure her they have always known her and appreciate her acts of kindness. I don't want to spoil it for you; I do encourage you to read the story for yourself and ponder how the tale interacts with the Christian notion of God's call upon our lives. 

Where I wound up goes like this: we believe in a God whose nets are big enough for all of us. The fisherman who answered the call took an incredible risk; and our lives since then have included stories of others who have taken great risks. Examples of risk in our own church include managing a 100+ plot community garden, filling and delivering backpacks to the neighborhood elementary school, hosting 50+ children at our kids day out and preschool, and planning goofy theme Sundays that entice visitors to come see what will happen next. In the midst of the struggle, we believe that God is with us and that we are called to reach out to one another in community - so that together we might share the faith stores that have saving power and remember God's call and claim on our lives. 

SA

Sabbath Artist 

ps We had a grand time at our "mermaid party" between services. Stations included creating sugary edible clams and oysters; paper mermaid tails; clothespin magnet mermaid clips; and rubber stamped bookmarks and notecards. Sunday School attendance set a winter record in spite of cold and snow; 31 adults and kids joined us for the craft stations and mermaid treats. 

Sometimes the bag of tulle is really a bag of someone's costume and you try it on. 

"after photo" - altar for Mermaid Sunday.

Anchored in Faith: Preparing for General Conference

Anchored in Faith, Steve Raglin Design

We’ve known for almost three years that at some point in the years ahead there would be a historically significant meeting of the UMC governing body. In time, facts appeared: specific dates in late February 2019 and a specific location in St Louis MO. Specific legislation, some of it ruled out of order, some of it revised.  Specific opinions have been written, spoken, consolidated and guessed at.

My concern has been manifold; I come to this meeting knowing I will be present physically, spiritually and emotionally as a reserve delegate from the Great Plains UMC. I come knowing that I will be returning to the parish I serve in Lincoln, Nebraska. And I am aware that anyone with an interest in the content of this meeting does so with an amalgam of roles and relationships. I think about the candidates for ministry that I mentor, the cluster of churches I lead, friends and family for whom the matter of welcome in the church is both deeply personal and hurtful, and I wonder how I will explain what happened at this meeting that has not yet happened. 

In the midst of this time of both waiting and revelation, I have been waiting for a revelation of a different sort. I have been searching for images, words and systems to help me see the way through a smothering quantity of emotions, facts, projected outcomes and opinions.

Last fall a word came to me, “anchor.” The anchor I saw with my mind’s eye had settled onto the bottom of a body of water. As the boat above it moved in the water, and as the water itself moved, the anchor also moved, tracing imperfect swirls and arcs in the silt on which it rested. I found this image of movement helpful. I found hope in the notion that a working tool could still have play in its being while remaining functional. I wondered about the mission of the Church and what it is that anchors us as a people, and I wondered how the movement of the waters around us might help us draw an arc that would be freeing rather than constricting.

Shortly after the image of the anchor came to me, I found myself reflecting on baptism. It was fall, and I was finalizing worship themes for the months from Advent through Lent. Our theme for that unofficial quarter was “Journey,” reflecting on the many thresholds and journeys that are found in the scriptures of those seasons. I’ve long cherished the creativity of the Wise Ones, who after being warned in a dream take the creative risk to return home by another way. One of the next scriptures we read is the story of another creative risk – the risk we take in baptism when we recognize and accept God’s claim on our lives as God’s children. Named and Claimed – pleasant to say, soothing and calming at times. But also a commitment on our part to listen for our name, to listen for God’s claim on our lives and then to act in concert with the accompanying vision of community and justice.

I’ve been collecting anchors since fall - charms, goofy sweaters, rubber stamps with various depictions of anchors. I’ve been collecting water and baptism images – shells, blue scarves, an aquamarine pendant. I’ve also been collecting faith stories of people who have heard God’s call on their lives and who have chosen to anchor their communities in faith, who have learned to help those who feel lost by calling out their name, whose lives are focused on claiming and naming God’s love for all people. It is in these stories that I found my quiet center, the space were I remember God's love abides now and always. 

I am unclear what the specific outcomes of General Conference will be. I am very clear that as people of faith we are anchored in the knowledge that we will be at our best when we are anchored in our faith as expressed by the baptismal claim on our lives. Named and claimed. Claimed for ministry in all the world, named as children of God, loved as we are.

SA

Sabbath Artist

PS I’ve been learning about anchors, and am happy to admit I am not an expert at all on this topic. Here’s one of my favorite lines from an article about anchors I read recently. “The earliest anchors were probably rocks.”  

This makes me giggle every time. I feel like I am at the rock stage of learning how to be anchored in faith, and I love the image of the person tossing the rock off the boat because it’s the best thing they’ve got. We are the best thing we’ve got for ministry. I’m thinking we don’t wait to be transformed into an anchor, we just take our rocky self and do our best.

Valentines Day: Sharing the Love

Valentines Day: Sharing the Love

Valentines Day. If you are young enough and the adults around you have a positive attitude, this can be quite the day! Just short of birthday party status, but perhaps better in the long term because it can be managed without nap, Valentines Day is a day I appreciate. At my current church, however, I have failed the past five years to participate in the Preschool Valentines Day exchange.

The past five years, I did not remember until  the 14^th that it would have been a great plan to hand out Valentines from the church to our kids. I was then filled with regret for at least two days, before moving on to worrying about some other missed opportunity. 

This year was different. I remembered, and remembered early enough to make a plan.

The first step was inquiring if it would be ok to participate, and if so how many Valentines I would need to prepare. The answer was an enthusiastic yes and after three different adults counted, we figured out I would need 53 Valentines to be distributed over the course of two days (hot tip, just ask the Preschool Director and make a couple extras for teachers and folks who drop by during the day).

Information in hand, I set out to handcraft the Valentines. I chose a simple heart shape, and traced it onto heavy weight scrapbook paper. On the reverse side, I stamped a goofy cactus with a message of “I’m stuck on you,” that we acquired for the church craft cabinet last year for Valentine craft night. I then attached an organic heart-shaped lollipop. I had given a bag to my neighbor kid for his birthday, and he ate several all at once, so I figured they had passed the test. Next year, I'll incorporate this project into either the adult Sunday School class during the preceding few weeks and/or a Wednesday worship craft night so that church members can participate. I did get a head start on cutting out the hearts when I found a stash I had saved from last year's multi-generational heart-garland craft night project. 

I did not embark on this project with a measurable goal in mind, other than to be sure I had enough hearts and lollipops to go around, but that’s ok. Sometimes you just want to spread the love by letting people know you care about them. The majority of the recipients are not old enough to read and the kids in the infant room probably aren't old enough for the lollipops but it's that kind of luxurious crafting that I think conveys a message to their parents that the church cares about them and consider their families part of our extended community. 

Happy Valentines Day! 

SA, Sabbath Artist

 

Summer Road Trip - planning ahead to #WinSummer

Summer Road Trip 2018: #WinSummer

Road trip placard, perfect for photos with people! 

VBS kids in front of selfie backdrop

I’ve been a pastor around 24 years now, and one thing bothers me every year is the assumption and accompanying reality that because it is summer, worship attendance will drop. In the spring of 2018 I decided that I was also bothered that every summer I was bothered and decided to take action. My working question: what would happen if we planned ahead with a goal of keeping our weekly attendance the same, if not higher than during the school year?

Worship attendance matters in all congregations. We are organized to be communities that worship together, and fewer people in attendance means we are missing some of those who form the “together.” Worship is also the primary mode of weekly connection for those members in my church who are active; I suspect this is the case for any congregation that does not have a robust small group program. Finally, worship is the place that we are most likely to encounter first-time visitors to our church.  For these reasons and more, attendance trends are not just something we file away on data reports. Attendance is one way to measure the engagement of both our existing members and visitors.

Once we made the decision to not give up on summer, several questions had to be answered.

One service or two? When I arrived at South Gate, they had an established pattern of moving from their school-year 8:30am and 11am worship services to a single service at 9:30. My first summer, I observed that no one seemed real happy about the compromise time so I suggested staying with two services year round. After a few years, it seemed the later service had a noticeable dip in attendance, so for the 2018 summer we decided to attempt a single service, encouraging everyone to show up. After several thoughtful discussions, we decided to try a new time for a single summer service: 9am. I also offered to keep worship services to 45 minutes, which worked some but not all of the time.

Theme. I thought that a common overarching theme for the summer might help people stay engaged and create a pattern that would help people who were out of town catch back up when they returned. Another hope is that the theme would be recognizable and interactive so that people visiting or traveling would be able to connect. Summer Road Trip evolved as our theme, and was fleshed out by graphic designer Steve Raglin.

Design. Key pieces of design included a Road Trip banner for the church front lawn; signage indicating the summer worship time; bookmarks listing themes for each Sunday and special events, a screen print for t-shirts, and a selfie backdrop for photos.

Special Sundays. I feel like a special themed Sunday here are there, perhaps with an accompanying party, activity or creative outfit opportunity can energize people both to remember to show up and to invite others who might have an affinity for the theme. I’ll share in other posts about particular themed Sundays and how they are tied to scripture. In general, my strategy is to limit this type of themed Sunday to once a month; plan a solid scriptural tie-in; warn music staff far in advance so if they want to select on-theme music they have time to prepare; and make sure any invitations to dress for the event are accompanied by reassurances that doing so is optional and a reminder to think through how to be welcoming to people entering the building who do not realize it is a themed Sunday.

Our 2018 Summer Special Sundays were Unicorn Sunday in June, Superhero Sunday in July, and Aloha Sunday in August.

Results.

We found ourselves with a net increase of 3-4 people on a weekly basis, which represented a 4% increase on average over the previous year’s summer attendance. Summer Sunday School participation increased by… a gazillion percent. Total attendance the previous summer was perhaps 20 people. 2018 Sunday School attendance in just the first month was over 150, thanks to moving to an intermittent and all-ages format that included snacks and craft stations built around our themes.

The difficult part: We lost some people because of the move to a single service. A good number of our regular 11am attendees were not able to successfully move to the summer 9am time. Some chose another congregation with an 11am service and attended there during the summer, others did not attend as often as during the school year, while others made it to 9am worship but were not very awake and/or articulated a sense that it felt bad that they were being asked to make a 2-hour adjustment, while the early service folks only had to make a 30 minute adjustment. My guess is that we would have had a more significant increase in worship participation over the previous summer if we had offered two Sunday services, at the “usual” school year times.
SA
Sabbath Artist

Sabbath Artist

I knew it was time for a new blog, one dedicated to thinking about and documenting worship ideas. What I did not have was a name. I asked friends for help, and Sherry came through. “Sabbath Artist,” she wrote me. “SA. It’s also for your initials.”

I’ve had a long and fairly well-documented struggle with how I relate to the word artist. I enjoy artists. I appreciate the way they see the world as a story and then help interpret the stories they discover so that we can understand the stories more fully.

One of my neighbors is an artist. She communicates stories through rocks and stones that she coaxes into shapes and warms with metal to make jewelry that is both beautiful and filled with the stories the rocks told her and that are waiting to participate in the next story. We were talking one day about artists and stories, and I shared that I felt like I was an artist without an art form. She responded very quickly, insisting that I did have an art form: relationships. Another artist friend volunteered a few months later that he thought my art form was living life.

I asked myself if  “Sabbath Artist” was too bold a claim. What would happen if it turns out I’m not an artist at all? What kind of person self-proclaims that they are an artist? And yet – I think Sabbath at its best is art. Sabbath involves stories, contemplation, and practice; we learn to use new tools to better express our Sabbath stories.  I don’t think I have ever met an artist who felt they were done learning their craft; if anything the way of the artist is one where the path continues to change as new stories interact with longer-held stories and the artist stretches to continue to better share those new and old stories together.

I have not perfected Sabbath, nor have I perfected the planning of worship. I do think that becoming more intentional about the stories that inform both Sabbath and worship will help me live in to the art form. And perhaps I will discover some new art forms, new ways to share stories, along the way.

South Gate UMC, Lincoln - January 2019