Rocks and Loosening: thinking about Matthew 16:13-20

 

 I'll admit it. I am an adult who plays PokemonGo. I was out walking the neighborhood playing Pokemon a couple weekends ago and found myself playing a second game - see what else I could "catch" by intentionally observing the spaces I was moving through. I hadn't made it more than a few blocks when I spotted this rock. Just hanging out with some weeds under some hedges, near the sidewalk. I don't know the rock's personal history or its goals. I do know that I experienced a mental frameshift, a lifting of spirit because of our encounter. Spotting the rock "loosed" in me a will to wonder. I felt lighter that weekend. I spotted many other treasures on that walk, I think because the rock helped loosen the rigidity of worry, the weight of responsibility that I easily and willingly carry with me. 

This week as I encounter this scripture, I am thinking how I might invite my congregation, and myself, to loosen ourselves from rigidity and worry so we are willing to receive the strength we find in wonder - whether a literal or metaphorical rock. 

In Whatever Forms They Present Themselves

In Whatever Forms They Present Themselves

Matthew 3:13-17, Baptism of Jesus

This post adapted from a sermon preached by the author at Saint Paul UMC Omaha, January 11/12, 2020. 

When I was young, my parents were in an accident. An outcome was that one of them has utilized a wheelchair for mobility for close to 50 years. I remember family outings as a child in those pre-ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) days. More times than I would want to count we were denied entrance to restaurants, hotels, churches, or public meeting spaces because one of us was physically unable to enter. I loathed stairs and narrow doorways. I thought things would get better with the passage of the ADA in the early 90s, and in some places we did see great improvement. Yet, close to thirty years after its passage, I'll still encounter a business owner or manager who will shake their head, look down at us and say, "Ohhhhhhh. Sorry. We are grandfathered in." Just as bad is the restaurant where someone has piled up all the highchairs in what was an ADA-compliant hallway until it became a storage space because "we didn't know anyone would need the door to open all the way." 

This January, the United Methodist congregation I serve is one of a group in Omaha that is focusing on our baptismal vows, focusing specifically on our promise to "resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves." These words are found in the baptismal liturgy printed in our hymnals, and speak to our commitment as disciples to not just agree to be members of a church but to remember God's claim on our lives. 

In the third chapter of Matthew, we hear these words, "this is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." I think it is noteworthy that these words are spoken at the time of Jesus' baptism, at the very beginning of his ministry - before the healings and miracles and teachings. When we remember our baptism, we remember that we, too, are named and claimed as God's beloved children, just as we are. And part of that claim is our future ministry of resisting evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves. 

I've been reflecting that our task might not be just about the resistance to the evil, but recognizing that at various times in our lives, different ones of us have the privilege of not being aware of the many forms of evil, injustice and oppression that present themselves. In my case, because I've observed the unwelcome of people with different physical abilities, I'm more aware of those forms of oppression. But it took a friend sharing with me about the time her own daughter was pulled over in their driveway because the police officer assumed she had stolen her own car for me to figure out why some people might not always want to ask the police for help. I had the luxury of not experiencing racism directed at my own child; I had the privilege of not seeing unequal treatment in our community. 

I think we as Christians are better equipped to resist evil, injustice and oppression when we widen our sense of neighborhood; when we decide to learn about people's lives who have different experiences than our own. I think we are best equipped for being open to learning when we start from God's claim on our lives and those who we encounter - as God's beloved children; people who are not perfect but know themselves to be on a journey together. 

I want to return to the story where I began, because I learned something new last week that I found horrifying and around which I have resolved to make a change. I was remembering how bad it felt to have people use the phrase "grandfathered in," and decided I would take a moment to find the beginning point of the phrase that evoked such an emotional response in me. 

It turns out that this phrase, which I myself have used (incorrectly) to mean something like "a short undefined implementation period" has its genesis in the late 19th century in the United States. It's a Jim Crow phrase. It originated after the Voting Rights act when Southern communities added their own laws that were designed to prevent former slaves from voting; things like poll taxes and literacy tests. Not all white former voters were able to pass those tests, so they were "grandfathered in," meaning that the new restrictive laws that were layered over the Voting Rights act did not apply to white men, only to former slaves. 

I am still angry that I have participated in evil, injustice and oppression via my own ignorance by using a phrase that was born of a will to harm people. But I also know that we are a people claimed for a new future. And I am resolved to not only banish this phrase from my own usage, but to learn more about additional phrases, songs, and other rhetorical forms that are carryovers from this era. When I discover I am part of a group working on an implementation phase, I will ask for a specific timeline for change, what accommodations can be made to be a bridge between the now and the desired future (I understand that elevators are not installed overnight), and if I am in a big ol United Methodist church meeting and hear the phrase "grandfathered," I have already warned my congregation that I will be the person who raises her hand and demands that we instead refer to an implementation phase with specific conditions and accountability. 

Named and claimed - is who we already are. Resisting evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms the present themselves - I think this is the call to us as the named and claimed, in this season and all those seasons to come. I give thanks for the journey. 

SA 

Sabbath Artist

Related links: 

Why I wrote the Americans With Disabilities Act, Washington Post: Why I wrote the ADA

2013 NPR story on history of "Grandfather Clause" NPR Grandfather Clause

Epiphany #resistharm Letter-writing Station tips

Hosting an Epiphany Letter-writing station in support on the #resistharm movement 

Why a letter-writing station? Writing a letter is one way to practice being an advocate, which is a form of resistance. While event planners may have significant experience with advocacy and resistance, it is likely that a number of people joining us for worship will be new to advocacy. Writing a letter is a familiar rhetorical form that allows for personal expression but also eases the stress some might feel in an in-person encounter or public speech. Be sure to remind people that writing a letter “counts,” their words and feelings matter, and we are thankful they have taken the time to express themselves.

In the Great Plains, we have asked people to write our Bishop to ask him to assist us in the quest to #resistharm. The Topeka worship service has a goal of gathering letters and delivering them after the service to the Conference office, which is also located in Topeka. The Omaha location for the Epiphany #resistharm worship service will gather letters and mail them to the office on the following Monday. Different writers will have different interpretations of what it means to resist harm; our goal is to help them express their thoughts and feelings in written form. 

Hot tips for letter-writing stations: Set up tables with chairs. Have ready in good quantity: pens and pencils that actually write; notecards and/or paper with envelopes; a list of possible general points to help writers focus their thoughts; post the name and address of who you are writing - no one likes a blank envelope - and a basket or box in which completed missives can be placed.

Even hotter tip: I'll be suggesting that all authors write their name legibly above or below their signature, list their home church, make sure retired pastors list that fact and throw in one or two of the towns they served; and include their mailing or email address just in case the recipient wants to write back. 

A bit more related to expression-inclusivity: If you've got a scrap-booker in your life, you might see if they have a decorative rubber stamp of a "stamp" or other appropriate envelope decor. I am guessing 24% of attendees would be more enthusiastic about writing a note if they knew there would be some color/design work involved. For a similar reason, a person might want to include some pieces of plain paper and crayons or markers in case participants who don't yet write, like to doodle, or need extra space would like to express themselves with personal artwork. 

The following excerpt from the Great Plains UMCNext newsletter gives some background on the context and suggested content for letters written in our Conference; we would strongly suggest planners in other locations consider their own context when inviting letters. 

On Monday November 11, Bishop Saenz issued a letter to the Great Plains conference regarding LGBTQ ordination, same-gender weddings, and the implementation of the Traditional Plan beginning January 1. He wrote about the process of charges, complaints, and trials to provide clarity and information. He does see the process of complaints and charges as divisive, having adverse impacts, and drawing us away from the mission. Even so, he writes that he is bound by the discipline and will “respond to all complaints that are submitted” according to the church processes he vowed to follow in his consecration.

We respect his episcopal authority. We empathize with the difficulty of guiding and pastoring the entirety of the Great Plains, the whole divided, beautiful, painful, transformative, and tense bunch of us. We also disagree with his decision to process complaints submitted around LGBTQ ordination and same-gender weddings. He asks all sides to have patience. He asks for folks to prayerfully consider before filing any charges and for folks to “wait with hope until after General Conference to celebrate same-gender marriages.” In twenty years, 5 months may feel like nothing. But we know it won’t really be 5 months. Most GC 2020 legislation submitted involves another called GC in the following years. Which General Conference are our LGBTQ siblings supposed to wait for to get married in the church that baptized them? Which General Conference is our LGBTQ siblings called into ministry supposed to wait for to have the permission to exist authentically? To quote the Rev. Dr. King, who knew the pain of the word ‘wait,’ “we must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right.”

We ask you to write letters respectfully disagreeing with Bishop Saenz’s decision. We believe the least harmful path and most fruitful use of time is not having trials and not receiving complaints centered on same-sex weddings and the sexual orientation of clergy. We have included a sample letter and writing guide for your use. While making the ask, the most important thing you can do in this letter is tell your story. Give the Bishop your voice to hold in his heart and mind. We know he cares deeply about the Great Plains, and we want the Bishop to hear your stories.

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