Category: Theological Rant
Much Obliged
I’m sitting in “The Dean’s Course,” shorthand for “The Minister’s Vocation” course at Brite Divinity School. Rev. Dr. M. Jack Suggs and Rev. Dr. Kenneth Teegarden are the professors. The lecture was something about developing a schedule or routine or pattern for the tasks that a minister performs during a week and taking time for your spiritual life. A student raises a hand. “Dean Suggs, it feels like funerals, especially for children or youth, are the hardest thing to do as a minister. Is there anything harder?” The Dean paused a moment, not more than thirty-seconds, and responded.
I heard this story that might help you with that question.
While shaking hands after worship on Sunday, a couple in the congregation paused mid-shake and asked the minister if they could come see him on Monday morning. “Sure, how about ten o’clock?” he responded. They nodded and went on their way.
On Monday morning the couple arrived five minutes early and chatted up the church secretary while the minister finished a call. “Hi, come on in. Sorry to keep you waiting,” echoed from the minister’s office. The couple entered to handshakes and questions about their Sunday afternoon activities. The husband asked if he could shut the door of the minister’s office. He did. Moving back to his chair to sit next to his wife he began: “Preacher, we’ve been members here a long time. Our grandparents helped start this church. You know we’ve done every job, from volunteer in the nursery to chair the board, twice. You’ve been here a long time and know us and this congregation. We like you and your preaching, but cannot understand why you’ve welcomed the colored family that has visited the church. They’ve got their own places for worship, and we think they should go there. We don’t want to cause trouble for you or this church, but we cannot continue to be members here, if you are going to welcome negroes into the church and membership. We want you to stay at this church, but cannot accept these people here. So, we wanted to talk to you first, before talking to our Sunday school class and the elders to see what you were going to do about it.”
The minister moved forward in his chair and thought for a moment. He removed his glasses, cleaned them, and when he returned them to his face, responded. “Steve and Phyllis, thank you for coming to see me this morning. I’m glad you trust me with this information and your concern. I’ve been the minister here eleven years. We’ve known each other all that time. Remember when I baptized your grandchild? That was a good day for all of us. I remember praying with Phyllis and you, when she was in the hospital fighting cancer. And, when you told me we needed to open a clothing closet to help the less fortunate, we convinced a couple of elders to put up the seed money that the board matched. That really helps a lot of people in this town of all colors.
So, this morning I must apologize to you. I’ve failed you. All these years I thought I was doing a faithful job of teaching and preaching the Gospel. Apparently, I’ve done a poor job, or you’ve not been listening. God’s love extends to everyone. Confessing faith in Christ and discipleship doesn’t depend on your color, and I know you know that. And, I know you know that the church doesn’t belong to me, or you, or anyone specific. Steve, I’ve heard you say that to the elders, when that family from the trailer park started worshiping here and some of the members were unhappy. Though poorer than many in this church, they were welcomed.
I understand that this is an important issue for you, and I want you to know that I will miss you if you choose to leave. If you choose to stir up trouble for the church over this, well I can’t stop you from doing that. I guess we will see if others have been listening to my teaching and preaching all these years. I will always pray for you and Phyllis. I want you to stay at this church we share. I think there is important ministry we can do together for our community, but it is important for you to know that the church, our church, welcomes everyone that comes through the doors seeking God and Jesus, no matter their color, because that is what Jesus calls us to do. I don’t know why this new family visited us, but after worship yesterday, they asked me to stop by their home for coffee this evening. I’m going there to extend Christian fellowship on behalf of our church and on behalf of God. Would you like to come with me?
Dean Suggs took a sip of his coffee. “Are there other questions before we move on?”
As far back as I can remember, October has been the month that my denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), has encouraged local congregations to say “thank you” in some formal way to their minister. What is now referred to as “Pastor Appreciation” began as “Minister Appreciation.” This is how I knew it, and experienced it, growing up, throughout my preparation for ordained ministry, and during my first decade of Christian ministry. It was normative until some point in the recent past, when the language changed. I’m not sure when it changed or how, but many clergy, ordained into Christian ministry or commissioned (formerly licensed) for Christian ministry in a specific place, have taken to referring to themselves as “pastor” rather than “minister.” Though not as dramatic as Luther’s ninety-five objections, this language change has had a significant effect on ministerial identity in congregational life, in culture, and for the minister. The intention, it seems to me, is meant to equalize, decentralize, and encourage all members of a congregation to see their participation in the kindom of God as ministry. That ecclesiology may help persons stay engaged in congregational life, but that marketing concept has diluted the image of what a minister is and has made it harder for a minister to carry out the often divergent roles of being a minister: preacher, teacher, prophet, priest, and pastor. I don’t know if that image of minister is taught in mainline seminaries (now known as graduate theological education) anymore, but it was foundational for a time and helped candidates determine what ministerial authority meant and how one gains such authority. I am not a pastor, but being pastoral is one of the roles (hats) I wear every day that I serve and work as an ordained minister of the Gospel.
“Americans have trouble facing the truth. So they invent a kind of a soft language to protect themselves from it” (George Carlin, Parental Advisory, 1990). Read more about George Carlin’s riff on “Soft Language” or watch Carlin do his bit onstage (caution to those easily offended).
“Much obliged.” That’s an old phrase that I first heard while watching Gunsmoke and Bonanza with my paternal grandmother; and in old Westerns (my two favorites: The Shootist and The Cowboys). “Much obliged” best describes my understanding of gratitude and obligation owed to the many ministers that invested themselves in my development as a human being, past and present.
Since we live in a time of rampant identity theft, I won’t use full names nor titles in this space or on social media. I don’t want to make it easier for those whose moral compass seeks the payoff of transactional systemic greed at the expense of the unseen “other.” This list is by no means exhaustive, and there is not one person for every day of October. It represents persons for whom “thank you” doesn’t represent the depth of gratitude and obligation I experience, when I think of them, these ministers who blessed me and held, hold me, accountable.
Dean Suggs barked at me one day during class, “Mr. Davison, do you know the Gospel is one generation away from extinction? What are you prepared to do about it?”
Much obliged . . .
John, Tommy, Margaret, David, Nancy, the Bear, Don, Will, Mary Beth, Ambrose, Charlotte, Terry, Wally, Steve, BSD, Randy, Bob, LBP, Joey, Bill, JR, Jerry, Rick, Guy, Michael, Lisa, Toni, Lon, SJB.
Well Fed Spirit
I was asked to speak at a local congregation about something I am passionate about. That word, passionate, is not one I use to describe my interest in a hobby, project, or topic. I do understand the context of the times and the motivational nature of marketing, engagement, and inspiring persons that is part of our culture and church speak now. What’s your passion? I can do the translation work that honors the spirit of the request and also fits my conceptual set. Thank you liberal arts education. I don’t think of myself as a particularly passionate person though I have a history of being a hot head and am considered by some to be arrogant, conceded, and convinced about my skill set and knowledge in an area or two. I am passionate about nurturing the relationship with my beloved of twenty-nine years.
I am one of those that has embraced that time away from your local congregation and family is generally a good and necessary part of personal growth and a well fed spirit. It is important for both the religious and non-religious alike. A daily walk, yearly pilgrimage, church camp, or retreat can stretch the spiritual muscles or fill the batteries that help one traverse life and the human condition.
I borrowed that phrase, “well fed spirit,” from a colleague and friend, Rev. Warren. You can find his website dedicated to spirituality at Well Fed Spirit.
What follows are my words, lightly edited, that I offered at First Christian Church in El Reno for their first “Church Chat” during the Sunday school hour. It was World Communion Sunday (October 7).
Good morning church. It is good to be with Disciples this morning to chat a bit. It is one of the things we usually do well, especially when there is food, talking about our experiences following Jesus and balancing our beliefs in our lives. This morning I want to explore what it means to have a “well fed spirit,” and how our summer camp program, retreats, study trips, and mission trips are an important part of a well fed spirit.
Do you remember the first time you realized that God exists? Maybe it was simply a moment when God was real for you for the first time.
I remember. It was the summer between seventh and eighth grade. I was at campfire on Thursday night at Chi Rho Camp. The crescendo of crickets and bull frogs drowned out the sound of feet shuffling in gravel and pine straw. It is something we Disciples do at summer camp: sit around a campfire for s’mores, stories, sing, pray, and sweat. Camp Wildur was a pretty flat place. It was just slightly higher than the bayou and swamp land that were part of the east side of the property. The trees seemed to reach the sky and many adorned with moss. The campfire circle sat at the bottom of a hill just behind the main building that was both dining hall and rec hall.
I think we were supposed to be in a silent prayer. I looked up and the silhouette of shadows from the fire light made it hard to find the camper I hoped to walk back to the cabin when campfire was over. Trying to see across the flames I noticed the embers and smoke lifting into the night sky. I watched one ember float up and up and up until it flickered one last time and my gaze was on the night sky. I was a Boy Scout who had seen the night sky many, many times. But something was different. The stars seems so close they could be touched. I had grown up going to Sunday school and Church. My family was active in Church. I knew about God. I had been baptized, confirmed, baptized a second time, that’s a story for another day, but in that moment God was known. I felt it somehow. The night breeze seemed cooler and stronger that nights past. The moss seemed to dance in swaying trees. When I think back on it now it was as if God was dancing and celebrating that another person, me, realized God was real.
Back at the cabin one of our counselors, John, asked as we settled down for the night, “Did anyone have a God moment today?”
I’ve said yes to Disciples summer camp ever since. It is intentional Christian community. That kind of community can help people that practice Christian faith be better citizens of the planet, and some become leaders. Community is not easy.
Intentional Christian Community requires attention to the essentials that create unity amidst diverse people.
Intentional Christian community is a willingness to name, and let go of, the non-essentials to unity and bless each person’s search for liberty and happiness.
Intentional Christian community is an attitude of benevolent good will or love of humanity, “charity”, as if you are meeting Jesus or the Imago Dei, the image of God, in other persons that makes Christian community possible and counter-cultural. That seems harder than ever these days.
Do you have a smart phone? I don’t know how your security is set up, but my device asks me each time an app wants to gain access to my camera, mic, contacts, or location. I have to touch “yes” on the screen to give an app, or something in the operating system, to give it “access” to the eyes and ears of my device. I have to touch yes to allow connections to me, and those that have trusted me with a connection to them in my address book. As each person travels our walkabout of life, we are connected to different communities that want access to our identities, our friends, and our locations. One of the things a well fed spirit does is calibrate our sense of right and wrong, and helps us say, “no” or “yes,” to the connections in our lives. Sometimes, a well fed spirit is that little voice of your moral compass as you navigate the degrees of grey areas living in the 21st century; and rationalizing the choices that are a part of each day. My parents called a well fed spirit, “Use the brain that God gave you. Think before you act or speak.”
Psychology calls this cognitive dissonance: it occurs when your ideas, beliefs, or behaviors contradict each other. Most people don’t come to church looking for cognitive dissonance, but rather a way to escape it. We forget that much of Jesus’ ministry comforted the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. Said another way, Jesus would help you with the work of creating blessing baskets for your neighbors in El Reno. But, he would work harder to change the systems in El Reno that create the need for blessing baskets in the first place.
And, a quick side note, search the origin of that phrase, “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” You will learn about Mr. Dooley, an Irish Immigrant character created by Finley Peter Dunn in 1893. Mr. Dooley’s satirical sayings about the political and social issues of his day were a weekly feature in the Chicago Evening Post.
Never have I ever heard of a church that adopted as it mission statement, “Following Jesus example, we comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Would you walk into a church that had that on its’ sign? There are a lot of kinds of Christianity out there that make a good living throwing the word sin and sinner around, but I don’t think that is afflicting the comfortable. When you take a broad look through the eyes of the gospel writers at who Jesus was and what Jesus did, this pesky peasant’s ministry was based in parables both in word and deed. And intentional Christian community is a good place to work on the dissonance and the discomfort that comes with being a follower of Jesus. This is why I think church camp, mission trips, and educational trips are vital to the way the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) explores Christian faith, practices Christian faith, and proclaims the good news of God.
Contrary to the Holiday Inn Express commercials, you don’t just become good at a thing or knowledgeable overnight. A person may have natural talent or abilities for music, art, sports, math, writing, or cooking, but that talent and abilities have to be nurtured, challenged, and continually practiced to get better. There has to be a commitment to do the hard work that creates trust, confidence, and competence. Somehow, we get this with almost everything else except practicing Christianity. Confession of faith and baptism are the beginning of the journey, not a destination. They might be consider the prerequisites for the course, “Loving and Serving Like Jesus.” And that leads to a question for another day: “What makes one a competent Christian?”
The gospels tell us that Jesus went away, most often to the desert, which makes sense because there is a lot of desert in that part of the world. He went away to pray, to reset, to listen for the voice of God. And, as Jesus’ story unfolds, he takes the disciples with him away – away from their comfort zones, away from the business of everyday life, away from places, faces, priorities, and distractions that can keep one from listening, learning, and practicing being a child of God.
And this is the “why” offered through our summer camp program, retreats, International Affairs Seminar, Mission Trips, and now Intersections. We are not in the business of manipulating children, youth, and adults, but we are invitational communities that understand that by blending play, prayer, worship, study, and service into a weekend retreat or week long experience we are teaching the language of faith and the practice of Christianity for the Church today and tomorrow.
There is nothing magical, but there is space for the mystical, for the presence of God to become real.
There is time to talk about the difficulties of being a follower of Jesus in a consumption driven culture.
There is time to ask about belief and disbelief.
These experiences are a kind of sabbath. Time away to listen, learn, serve, and practice. We help children, youth, and adults learn the difference between intercessory prayer, public prayers on behalf of a group, and praying for oneself. We teach that words matter. We help children, youth, and adults take the bible seriously, but not literally. We create a kind of community that enables a person to tap “Yes” to a connection understanding that it means “No” to another. It is not easy and you have to want it.
Traveling with people, whether you know them or not, you learn the nuance of the story behind the image of your traveling companions and yourself. Each participant brings a piece of the event puzzle with him or her. Away from your comfort zone, away from routines, and sharing space with people who are not just like you, but share a common expression of faith, you can choose to embrace the invitation to be vulnerable about questions, about faith, and open to new learnings. Even learning that stirs me from my comfortable faith.
When I served in congregations as a youth minister, the first meeting of the fall would be a big family fun gathering. The youth sponsors would hand out calendars, get release forms for the year signed and notarized, organize dinners for the youth groups, play and worship. And somewhere near the end I would offer a version of these words. “You know, this being Christian stuff is not easy. It is hard more often than easy. When you get home tonight and are looking at schedules. Remember, Sunday school is the active study we do each week, and youth group is putting into practice what we studied. It is hard to do both, study and practice, well, in an hour on Sunday morning or 90 minutes of youth group. That’s why it is important for you to be regulars, and for you parents to be regulars in your class or group, and not drop-ins. This being a Christian stuff is hard to do alone, and we need one another to be better followers of Jesus.”
You are doing a good job with this First Christian. You study together, pray together, and serve together. All of this, and so much more feeds your spirit. And what does that do? What does a well fed spirit do?
I think a well fed spirit gifts a person the vision to see rainbows, and create opportunities for others to have their own rainbow vision.
