My daughter has been challenging me quite a bit lately as we plan her wedding.  She is a Facebook-announced atheist who wants a meaningful, non-religious ceremony.  I am NOT officiating … that detail was decided decades ago after doing one too many funerals for our family … I will “just” be the mother of the bride (believe me, that’s enough!).  Being involved in the planning of a “non-religious” wedding has been a reminder of the difference between secular weddings and  Christian weddings.  The Directory for Worship clearly makes the distinction:

But for those not raised the in the church, the organ is an unusual instrument that may be experienced with curiosity, but more often with a reaction similar to hearing bagpipes … great for communicating across the hills of Scotland, not so great in my backyard.  (an aside to my husband … this is in no way a comment on whether or not I support you taking bagpipe lessons).

Music is important in our Presbyterian worship … and as we challenge ourselves to move beyond our intellectual approach to faith, music is even more important.  Music derives from our hearts and souls, it reaches into the deep chasms of our spiritual longing, it not only fills that emptiness, but it expresses our deepest praise.  Just as with words, there’s a denotation and a connotation… what a word means and how a word feels (or is heard) … music can be exultation to one and boredom to another.  Or, when talking about drums in the sanctuary, can be a rhythmic pulse of our faith, or an offensive statement of anti-establisment.  So, the debate often moves quickly from civil conversation to “worship wars” … members stake their claim … and gather a band of members with them … and it divides congregations.

“Does the kind of music make a difference in whether or not we attract new members?”  That’s the question I get.  And I answer something like this … the style of music doesn’t matter nearly as much as it’s authenticity and whether or not it’s the “heart language” of the people … both the people in the congregation and the new people you’re welcoming into your community.  Worship needs to be in the language of the people — a good Reformed concept (thanks Martin Luther); we need to remember that “language” is a broad enough term to include style of music (again, thanks to  Martin Luther for exemplifying how to give popular pub songs new words.)

There are a few things that I think we need to keep in mind when choosing worship music style: 1) is it an authentic expression of the faith of the community, not just in the lyrics of a song, but in the style of the music?  2) is it performed with excellence (well rehearsed and with the full passion and energy of the performer)?  and 3) will it connect to new Christians in your midst in a way that leads them to an authentic expression of their love and praise of Christ?

Some congregations opt for two or three different worship services with different styles.  Others agree to have a “blended” style of both contemporary and traditional Christian music.  The approach I like best is one in which all members of the congregation (and even some new “visitors”) are asked to take part in the worship service by leading the congregation or providing worship music that is done in the style which best fits their own personal “heart” language … jazz, classical, pop, rock, even hip hop can all be styles of music that connect with the heart and soul of a worshipper … it’s that authentic expression that best communicates faith and love and devotion to new members of a community.

I’ve visited a few congregations this month talking and listening.  My topics have been the future of the church, evangelism, congregational renewal, etc.  Consistently, I’ve heard the same questions.  The biggest one on people’s minds is “How do we get more people to come to church?” 

Congregations have tried lots of gimmicks … invite a friend Sunday, come as you are Sunday, bring your pets Sunday; at least one church even tried, come to church and win a car, Sunday!  My answer is the same … it’s the wrong question.  People who want to go to church are going to church.  The question isn’t how do we get more people in here, the better question is how do we get our people out in the community and build faith-filled relationships with people longing to know Christ?

The thing is that just like most non-church-goers don’t want to go to church, most church attenders … at least those in old-line denominations like the PCUSA … don’t want to make new relationships with people who are not like them.  They have an unrealistic expectation that they can attract “people” to come into the church, that the people will see how warm and friendly and inspirational the church is, and want to join the congregation and become just like them.  OK,  I know that’s highly cynical of me … and most definitely unfair to the long-time church goers who genuinely don’t “get” why others aren’t as enamored with church life like they are.

It’s not 1956 anymore.  People don’t feel guilty for not attending church anymore.  There are lots of choices in people’s lives for entertainment, community, and spiritual nurture.  Even people who are spiritual seekers are not necessarily going to wander into a church building on Sunday morning.  They will join discussion groups, seek spirituality groups and coaches, watch Oprah, gather with friends, and read blogs.  Their concept of church-going Christians is that we are judgmental, hypocritical, irrelevant, and … boring.  I know that’s harsh, and not necessarily true to our character, but if that’s what they think, that’s what we need to address.

So, the question is … How can we make relationships with people who are not currently part of a faith community and begin to witness a nonjudgmental, non hypocritical, and very relevant faith in Jesus Christ that’s vital to our lives?  By answering this question well … we will not only help other people grow in faith, but we, too, will be challenged to grow spiritually.  Our new friends may never enter the church door, but we will have had the opportunity to witness to the Gospel in real and tangible ways.  And we can trust that the Spirit will continue to work in their lives as they become disciples of Jesus.

So … here are a couple of questions:

1.  How do you get old-liners to make new “good news” centered relationships with spiritual seekers?

2.  and a question I’ve struggled with for years: can you be a faithful disciple of Jesus Christ and not “go to church?”

Last summer, as my mom’s health was deteriorating, we were faced with a decision: whether or not to give Mom a feeding tube. That looming decision led me to do some internet research, and I found information on something the papers called, “geriatric failure to thrive.” For an unknown reason, some patients just stop responding to treatment.  They stop eating; even when they do eat their bodies don’t absorb the nourishment, and their bodies and minds begin to shut down. That’s what was happening to my mother.  A feeding tube would only make sense if she needed a short-term boost of nutrition to get her back to thriving, but in her case, it seemed, as if her body had just said, “it’s time.”

And so we had to rely on what we knew about faith, about life, about death, about my mom’s condition, not only to make a decision about the feeding tube, but about the meaning of life … ultimately we followed my mother’s end of life wishes. We worked with hospice, and, although her death was difficult, it was faithful to the realities of her health, to the values of her life, to the foundations of her faith … and we allowed God’s love to nurture her through death to new life.  Sometimes the greater hope is not for resuscitation, but for resurrection.

It’s no secret that many of our congregations are struggling to survive, let alone thrive. Our membership is aging, our numbers are declining, our buildings are showing the wear of years of fine ministry, our budgets are stretched as far as they will go. Just in the past couple of months, four congregations have been in contact with me saying that budget issues are now calling their future into question. The trend will continue.

So how DO we measure the health and viability of a congregation? And when is it time to accept the reality that dissolution is an inevitable reality?  When do we decide to refuse the feeding tubes or to sign the “DNR” papers?  When do we allow our hope to shift from the survival of this congregation to the resurrection of the kingdom work?

Numbers are an indicator. Membership, budget, worship attendance, etc. These are the things we tend to look at first … the “vital signs” of traditional church life. These numbers are as important as body temperature, blood pressure, cholesterol, and other blood counts are to a person’s health. They are indicators that our health needs attention, but they don’t necessarily mean it’s time to call hospice.

More important than the numbers is the ability, energy, and likelihood that we’ll make the life changes necessary in order to turn the numbers around, and that our membership “body” is capable of it.  In congregations it would mean reaching outside of the congregation, “giving up”  some our most beloved traditions, taking on spiritual disciplines (including tithing at a higher level) and exercising our faith in ways that work our spiritual muscles through periods of achy-ness and discomfort.  Sometimes our bodies heal and thrive from the “treatment” and new ways of life … sometimes we just don’t have the energy and our bodies say, “it’s time.”  It’s time to let go of this life and see what God has in store for the future.

We know how to look at the numbers … we can read a thermometer, we can take our blood pressure.  But we cannot make the decision about hospice or hospital, resucitation or resurrection, without consultation from medical experts, deep thought and reflection on the meaning of life and the desires of the person, and prayer … lots of prayer.

There are pastors and elders in our presbyteries who are equipped to help guide your congregation past looking at the numbers, and to help you discern what future course of action is best for you and your congregation.  Radical or experimental treatment may be helpful … but it may be time to consider the realities of dissolution of a congregation and the options that are available in preparation for the faithful end of congregational life for a particular church.

This is a huge injustice for married pastors, particularly those with families.  Pastor’s salaries are typically low to begin with.  It’s not unusual for a pastor’s family to qualify for WIC, food stamps or fall dangerously close to the poverty line.  The deductibles and co-pays of the medical plan are already a hardship on pastors and their families. Now we are looking to add to that an additional $2,500 or $5,000 a year to cover their family’s medical care?  Sure, some congregations and some presbyteries will require that health care is provided by the congregation for the whole family … but will PNCs and congregations use the additional costs as reason to pass by younger pastors with families?  will their salaries be less in order to cover the additional health care expenses?

I understand that congregations are find the health care portion of the their BoP dues to be burdensome.  And I understand that the PCUSA health care expenses are unusually skewed because of the age and health of most pastors and their families.  These are issues, however that need to be addressed in some other way.  For instance?  Is there a way to open the Affiliated Health Care plan to all Presbyterians, not just pastors and congregational employees?  Would this ultimately be a benefit to our members?  would it make a difference in the age/health demographics in a way that would bring the costs for all down?

I understand that charging employees for family health coverage is typical in corporate America.  Maybe, then, we need to take a more active role in helping our country address the rising health care costs for everyone … not just pass those costs on to those who can least afford them.  What’s happening among us Presbyterians has been happening to our neighbors for years/decades … we need serious conversations around the moral and ethical realities of high profits gained by insurance companies, for-profit hospitals and pharmaceutical companies … something seems wrong here.

Congregations are blown away, I know, by the costs required by presbyteries for pastor’s terms of call.  But, I still think that most pastors are underpaid … grossly underpaid.  If your pastor’s salary isn’t at or above the salary level of your local public elementary school principle, you’re underpaying.  The education and responsibility level of both positions are roughly equivalent, and both are working in the service of their community, not to make a huge income.

If a congregation cannot afford to pay the full salary package of a pastor, then they have to face the truth … they cannot afford a pastor.  It’s time to think of other options: increasing their stewardship significantly, changing the staffing patterns of the church, moving to a different location, yoking with another congregation, looking for a part-time pastor, raising up Elders to be commissioned as CRE’s, merging with another congregation, or, dare I say, consider dissolution.  When pastors try to hold on to a call by agreeing to salaries less than presbytery minimums, or put their family at risk with no health care, they risk both a dependency on the congregation and a resentfulness of the congregation which hinders their ability to preach the Gospel, lead with authority, love with compassion, and keep the mission of the Church as their priority.  This is a problem.

Comments anyone?

All of us will tell “Sandy” stories for years to come … some about the power being off, others about trees falling, or roofs blowing off, others about evacuating or about being flooded and rescued.  We will tell stories of the devastation, the boardwalks gone and appearing in church yards, the homes and beach, itself, reclaimed by the ocean, finding 3 feet of beach sand in living rooms, boats on railroad tracks or refrigerators in the middle of the street.   Even more importantly, we will tell the stories of people … of how neighbors worked together, about how “angels” appeared with just the right help at the right time, about how the church mobilized to feed or muck out or house volunteers.  We’ll tell stories of survival and hope … even in the midst of devastation we have seen the hand of God … not in the flood waters, but in the “stone soup” suppers and impromptu potlucks, in the serving and delivery of food pantry macaroni and cheese to families in the midst of mucking out their homes, in the offers of gift cards to Target for families evacuated with nothing but the clothes on their backs … in the stream of phone calls and emails from colleagues and churches all over the country offering to come and help, or to partner with a congregation.

Friends, this is a catastrophic disaster.  For many of us, our lives and our congregations will never be the same as it was pre-Sandy. 

At first count, I counted 25 of our 47 churches were in communities that were  described as “devastated” by Sandy …  Except for Belmar, most of our church buildings came through with only mild to moderate damage, if any.  Belmar had significant flooding.  Our families, and our communities, on the other hand, have been forever changed.  Talk to just about any congregation on the shore and they will point to members who have lost everything.  For some, like Tuckerton, where 25 families were severely affected, the impact will undoubtedly take a huge human and financial toll on the life of the congregation.

We will be recovering from Sandy for YEARS … it’s the new normal.  We have to prepare ourselves for the long haul.  In the disaster recovery world, Presbyterians are noted for being good at the long haul.  When FEMA and the Red Cross and the Baptist chainsaw teams go home, the Presbyterians are still here, working, rebuilding, supporting, and giving.

So, let’s talk, now, frankly about what to expect.  By now some of you will feel like you have mentally, emotionally and spiritually “hit the wall”.  I felt it about a week ago … for me, I had real trouble retrieving words, I lost my patience quickly, I found myself speaking without appropriate forethought.  I had trouble sleeping, yet I felt like I wanted to stay in bed forever.  I started crying more often and felt emotionally raw.  I needed a break …

I cannot say what your symptoms of “hitting the wall” will look like, but you WILL need a break …  and if you don’t take it intentionally, your body and your mind will find a way to get it for you.  Don’t make yourself sick … take time off, pace yourself, have fun, laugh, spend time with your family, call friends, exercise, eat right.  If you need help finding ways to do that, call me, I’ll let you borrow my motorcycle.

This may be the time to take advantage of the many resources our Board of Pension provides for mental and physical health.  If you don’t have a group of colleagues and good friends to share your stories with, then it’s time to find some … again … let us know, we can help.

Your congregation may be stressed with financial concerns due to Sandy.  It’s not unusual, especially if you had to miss a Sunday or two, or if a significant number of members are struggling with insurance deductibles and find a place to live, to find cash flow and income to be tragically low.  Your treasurers and finance committees should not keep financial concerns to themselves.  Nor should sessions and pastors keep these concerns to themselves … Let us help.

The Board of Pensions, PILP, PDA, and other agencies have resources, which are available to help in times like this.

Let me say this clearly … and I trust that you will hear these words in the faithfulness in which I share them.  No congregation should ever put its witness to the community at risk, especially at a time like this, in order to pay our presbytery per capita or mission giving pledge.   In fact, I believe the reason a presbytery cannot force a congregation to pay per capita, is precisely for that reason … ministry of the congregation to its local community takes precedence over obligations to the larger church.  However, we also need to remember that our per capita and mission giving to the larger church is precisely WHY we have resources to help at times like these.  So, please … be faithful in your giving if you are not affected, and be faithful in your ministry, if you are.  And let us know about any financial difficulties you may be experiencing before holding back on per capita, or falling behind on pension dues, or finding yourselves not able to pay the pastor this month.  We can help.

Regarding what we’re doing and where we’re heading: we have formed a “Sandy Recovery Team”, headed by Walt Vincent of Hightstown.  He will talk to you shortly about the efforts of the team and what to expect as we move forward.

Along with the tides of destruction and the winds of change, comes the opportunity to grow in faith, to heal past wounds, to work together in ways we never dreamed possible.  This is the time to see the church in action … brothers and sisters in Christ all across the country praying for us, visiting us, providing for us … we will be stronger, and we will be even more faithful as we come through these hard times.

This post is a copy of the Regional Presbyter Report I gave to Monmouth Presbytery on November 27, 2012

Earlier this year as I met with my EP colleagues in the Presbytery Leader Formation residency, we were each sharing about our presbyteries, and I said, “I’ve got twins!”

My two presbyteries are of the same approximate size and weight (Monmouth has a few more churches, New Brunswick has a lot more pastors). They both share DNA, but they have very different personalities. One is the over-achiever, one is the heart-warmer, one is the artist, one is the intellectual, both are smart … and, to this proud “mom”, both are “above average” on all scales that matter.

I’ve told my colleagues: Even though New Brunswick is technically the smaller of the two presbyteries, it operates like they’re much larger; I describe them as the “program church” Monmouth is larger, but, I find they operate more like a “family church”. Each has it’s own eccentricities and advantages.

New Brunswick brings a cosmopolitan, urban flair, to our family. The influence of the seminary is palpable in their analytical, critical, and intellectual capabilities. They have a deep heritage … a long history of being influencers and on the cutting edge … this leads to a confidence in their orthodoxy and orthopraxy that flirts with arrogance, but gives them a firm foundation in who they are and who they’ve been. They are organized and detailed. Like a well-oiled machine, they “do” presbytery well and have, in my opinion, one of the best functioning COM’s and CPM’s in the country . They are highly intelligent, resourceful, and individually as much the influencers as ever. They are a presbytery overflowing with leaders, and teachers, and mentors, and pastors. They care about each other, but are finding that they don’t really know each other well. They care deeply about the PCUSA and the presbytery, but the legal struggle of the recent past has left its mark … deep hurt for some, skittishness for others … distrust is not yet overt, but growing. And, while they may, at times, seem apathetic, I don’t believe apathy is part of their DNA; rather I’m convinced they’re corporately experiencing a reluctance to put their whole heart forward because they are acutely aware of the vulnerability that opens us up to.

Monmouth, on the other hand, is “Jersey Shore” … not at all like the TV show, but in their “down-to-earth-ness” and deep family ties. Their heritage is also strong but solidified in relationship and shared experience. They are determined, persevering, and have a lot of energy around being presbytery. They have a passion that has led them, at times, to open hostility. That hostility and hurt, I’m convinced, is rooted in how much they care about scripture, the church, the marginalized, and each other. Their hearts are full, and they are determined to do the right things. That determination has had them at odds with each other during some very difficult times. I hear that, I see that trust is difficult, because they’ve been hurt, and because they care. Monmouth is a presbytery of highly talented leaders who have wonderfully imaginative ideas, and, they have a heart that beats for the church, for Christ.  This allows them to share an authentic hope for the future that sometimes seems like nothing but pie in the sky dreaming, but it gives them strength, nonetheless.

Working with both of them keeps me constantly appreciating them … each of them, and it gives me a much larger grasp on the possibilities out there. not only do I have the experience of the different ways things WERE done in my previous presbytery, but I know how they ARE being done next door. And, I’m always seeing possibilities for collaboration … not so that the two become one, but so that we can fully support and complement each other.

Double the Work

I’m not going to sugar-coat anything though. As parents of multiples always tell you, the work, the sheer amount of work, can be overwhelming. My colleagues keep shaking their heads, saying things like, “twice as many presbytery meetings? Double the COM meetings? Council meetings?” Yup. And that means I can’t do everything alone. More and more, each leader will need to step and do their part. By now you probably have begun to notice some of the things which are falling to others in the presbytery. I’m relying quite a bit on committee chairs, COM liaisons, and the office staffs. We are, however, a community, working together … and I’m convinced this will continue to be much more of a blessing than a burden.

This collage has been hanging above my computer in my home office since the day I moved in. It has given me focus all year as I meditated with each of the phrases and images. It has helped me hear the Spirit’s wisdom, and remember who I am and who I’ve been called to be as your Regional Presbyter.

In Houston, I participated in a number of spirituality visioning groups led by my friend and colleague, the Rev. Pat Clark. Her work with us focused on listening through our right brains by using images and journalling. Over the years I had made a number of these collages. We’d spend an hour or two contemplating a Bible verse or phrase, paging through magazines and cutting out the images and words that seemed to capture our attention or imagination, and glueing them to our poster board. Every time I made a collage I felt captivated by the aura of kindergarten. As the group of us worked together we’d laugh at pictures, make snarky comments, share pictures with each other and just play together with a childlike spontaneity. And after our artwork was completed, we shared our creations with each other with a sense of gratitude and curiosity … What truths, what insights, what imaginings would these collages reveal to us in the coming weeks and months? Each collage was the focal point of our group work and homework for two to three months as we journaled, prayed, met regularly, and let the Spirit speak to us.

This collage was specifically designed as I prepared to begin my work with you. Pat called our group together just before I left to make one more collage. Most of the images are mine; they were chosen because, intuitively, I felt they had something to say about my call here. Others were chosen by each of the other members of my group, as a gift, as a remembrance, as a blessing. And, over the year, they spoke to me, quietly and persistently … reminding me of the call that brought me here, keeping me grounded and focused during some very “weighty” times.

It’s important, especially during times of great change or of crisis, to balance the weightiness with whimsical play, with quiet, with curiosity, and with a smile … trusting that God has so much more yet to reveal to us if we look, listen, and wonder.

“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand, moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?”
From “Season of Love” the opening song of the musical Rent

It’s been one full year since I started serving you as your Regional Presbyter. During the story of our lives, some years are just 525,600 minutes; we’ve turned the pages and the story continues. Other years, however, mark huge change; new chapters are written, old chapters close. This was one of those years for me, personally, and it is integrally related to you. Besides the new job, the move from Texas to New Jersey, buying a house and selling a house, visiting congregations, and getting to know so many of you … This year you have walked with me through one of the most critical and memorable years of my life. My mom’s illness, which began as she and my dad drove home from my installation in January, culminated in her death on August 23. Throughout this time I have been truly moved by your support, your flexibility, your generosity, your prayers, your cards, your emails, your Facebook messages, your texts. My gratitude is overwhelming. And because we have walked this journey together, I now announce to you — I am no longer your “NEW Regional Presbyter.” You are now an integral a part of me: my history, my story, and my family.

For me, the woman who was born asking “how come?”, I “fit” in a denomination which has it’s center in Christ, but which values many different interpretations as we read scripture, engage a changing culture, build our relationship with Jesus Christ, and give witness to the resurrection in real and life-changing ways.  I don’t think it’s a secret that I usually approach scripture from position which is more progressive, less traditional, more metaphorical, less factual, more narrative and wholistic, less legalistic and literal.  It’s not only the way I approach scripture, but the way I approach life … God has gifted me with the ability to see new possibilities and the big picture, to be creative and imaginative, to get deeper and broader and wider in understanding and interpreting what’s going on in life and culture.  But there’s a shadow side to that, of course … I need to be around people who are more attuned to detail, who are grounded in a heritage and history which can illuminate where we are by where we’ve been, who are good at “conserving” the values and ethics and understandings of God and Christ and Church.  I need to be around people who are gifted differently than me, in order to be better … more faithful.  I need my more conservative sisters and brothers in the church to keep me grounded.  And, I’m convinced, they also need me.  It’s this challenge of each other that keeps us growing spiritually, intellectually, faithfully, and compassionately.  And that is what leads us to be reformed and always reforming.

The strength of the Presbyterian Church, I believe, is that while our center is clearly in Christ, we are also convinced that faithful followers of Christ can differ — sometimes in very substantial ways.   It pains me to think of some of our sister congregations leaving the PCUSA … not because of property issues, endowments, membership or institutional stress on presbyteries … but because I feel we’re losing a piece of what makes us strong … a piece of what keeps us faithful.  We’re losing the strength of our diversity in Christ.  We’re losing the gifts of those who are of a different “mindedness” than me … who can challenge me … who can hold me accountable … who can complement me.

As Christians we should constantly seek the “like-mindedness” of Christ … and the best way to do that is to be in relationship with people of all minds as we strive to know Christ better together.  My pastor friend who is “discerning” whether to stay or go, agrees … that’s why it’s important to go with graciousness and respect and to stay in relationship … it’s just a different level of relationship … as sister denominations instead of sister congregations.  I understand that … but I don’t have to like it.