Summer Love Bomb Ideas

[NOTE:  due to the sad events in OK yesterday, it feels too lighthearted to be writing about popsicles and summer.  But tragedy always reminds us that we need to care for and laugh with each other every chance we get.  Text PDA to 20222 to donate $10 to support disaster response where needed most, through the Presbyterian Church USA.]  And now today’s post:

In the spirit of yesterday’s post, I was thinking about ideas for love bombing unsuspecting neighbors this summer.  What if we loved people randomly this summer with simple offerings of care and refreshment?  It’s time to make some plans!

Here are some of my favorite summer love bomb ideas:

• Take popsicles to a park on the hottest day of the summer and hand them out to the neighborhood kids.
• Serve ice cold bottles of water on a busy sidewalk at the end of a work day in your city/town.
• Pick a laundromat in the area – preferably in a place with fairly beaten up washers and dryers- and pay for everybody’s laundry that afternoon.  Bring cookies and lemonade.  Hang out together. [Note:  idea comes from this congregation.]

The point of these activities is not to get new members or promote your church or target the neighbors.  It’s just about loving people in simple, fun ways.

Mark your calendars.

What love bomb ideas do you have?

What Do We Get Out of This?

I’ve shared the story before about a non-profit organization that asked our church if they could put a bin to collect clothing in the church parking lot.  We said, “Yes.”  But then the organization put the bin in another church’s parking lot across the street.  Same street.  Different church.

One of our elders was not happy.

Unhappy Elder:  That was supposed to be our mission project.

Nonplussed Elder:  Who cares where the bin is located?  Clothes will still be collected and it’s convenient for both our members and the members of the church across the street.

UE:  But we won’t get the credit for doing it.

NE:  ?!

All too often we in the institutional church serve because we will get something out of it.  In worship yesterday, there were two ways to give money to the special Pentecost Offering.  One could text “YOUNG” to 20222 and send $10 directly to the denomination.  Or one could put a check or cash in an envelope in the pew.  The church and subsequently the Presbytery only gets credit for donations in the envelopes, and I’ve heard leaders criticize giving via texting for this very reason – even though it’s much easier to give with a text message.

Every year, our congregations host community fairs and other neighborhood events  in hopes that we will attract new members.  We individually serve on boards and committees so that we will get our own way in church world.  We live “good lives” so that we will get to go to heaven.  We might even claim Jesus as Savior primarily for this reason.

But – as Rick Warren famously said – life’s not about us.  When we truly serve, it’s about someone else – preferably someone not connected to us.  (Note:  if we are only serving our friends and family, that’s actually about us.)

I’m wondering how a church teaches the crucial lesson that serving is not about what we get out of it.  Yes, maybe we get a “good feeling” when we serve.  But do we also expect to get holy credits?  How do we teach that following Jesus is not about benefiting ourselves?  It’s about the Kingdom.

As I Was Preparing a Bible Study About Same Sex Marriage . . .

My job description doesn’t include teaching classes on sex or marriage, but this is what I was asked to do for a congregation pondering Biblical teachings on these ubiquitous matters last weekend, especially in light of this.  They wanted a Biblical interpretation of same sex marriage from a progressive point of view.  The previous week they’d received the same lesson from a more tradition point of view, taught by a friend of mine.

Marriage equality is not going away.  And here’s my Big Confession:  I believe that marriage equality is a holy thing, sanctioned by God because God is all about Covenant Relationships.  Not this.  Not this.  Not this.

But this.  (Sorry for all the links.)  As I was studying this topic anew, a couple of things occurred to me for the first time.

Remember these verses?

• Genesis 2:18 Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper as his partner.’
• Genesis 2:24 Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh.

What I realized about these verses – that so many use to prove that marriage is about a man and a woman – is this:

• The word for “helper” here (‘ezer עֵזֶר) is actually a male noun. I’m not saying the helper for the man must be male.  But this is interesting.
• At no time in ancient history or even today in some cultures, did the man leave his father and mother.  It has always been the woman who left her parents.
• And for that matter, Adam didn’t have a mother and father.
• The word for woman and wife – throughout all the OT – is the exact same Hebrew word (ishshah אִשָּׁה) which is also the same word for a female animal.  

Were Adam and Eve really even “married”?  When I looked for passages about “traditional marriage” in scripture, I found that there aren’t any.  Yes, there’s the marriage at Cana but that’s about the party after the marriage ceremony.  And if the ceremony was anything like most ceremonies in those days, it would have involved the husband and the bride’s father signing a contract.  There were no vows, unless we count the promises made to pay a dowry.

The first time “marriage” is used in Scripture (Exodus 21:10) it’s about taking a second wife (or “woman.”)  She was literally “taken” as in fetched, snatched, procured.   It’s the same word in Hebrew:  לָקַח laqach .  

[Thank you Carole Fontaine andKrister Stendal who taught me Hebrew and Greek.]

I would encourage everybody to pull out your Strong’s Concordance and check out the marriage passages in both the Hebrew and Greek scriptures.  Could someone please find a verse that illustrates the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman that is not figurative?  (Serious question.)

 

Image is an icon of Jonathan and David.

2 Sam 1:25-26

Looking into Each Other’s Eyes

I randomly decided to look – really look – at people I passed by on my way into work yesterday.  From the commuter train to the pedway to the CTA to the station to the block before our office building’s front door, I would try to catch eyes and smile at random people.

For many cultures – in East Asia and most Muslim countries – looking into the eyes of someone, especially someone of the opposite sex – is considered disrespectful or forward.  But for me, I was hoping to acknowledge people who are often invisible:  the lady beside me on the train, the security guard in the pedway, the ticket taker, the subway minstrel.

And then someone tripped me as we were getting on the subway.  It was an accident as he was trying to sidestep a guy with a rolling suitcase.  But I crashed to the ground – eyeglasses knocked off my head – and, of course, people stared.  Two skinned knees but all was fine.  Except for one thing:

The guy who accidentally knocked me down never looked at me.  He never looked at me in the face, much less in the eyes.  If he had to identify me five minutes after our little collision, he wouldn’t have been able to do it.  Was she white? Black? Wearing a purple coat?  Short?  Old? Freckled?  He wouldn’t have been able to say.

At the risk of creeping people out, I consider it a spiritual practice to look each other in the eye.  It makes us real.  It acknowledges people.  We can even thank them with our eyes.  It reminds us that we are all human beings with lives and stresses and work to do and people to love.

That’s all.

Image source.

Please Don’t Ever Say This Again …

. . . especially in church.

I’ve started referring to this as The Chewing Gum Story.   Along the same lines, I remember listening to Christian radio in the car one summer, specifically to a talk show about abstinence.  As a variation of The Chewing Gum Story, what I heard was The Cherry Pie Story.  A mom was talking about how she taught her daughter the importance of abstinence by using a freshly baked cherry pie.  “Look how fresh and perfect it is,” the mom said to her daughter (and into the radio.)  “But if we take a piece out of it, it’s not fit to give that pie to someone else as a special gift.“  I remember thinking,”That was random.”  But looking back, that mom was basically trying to send the same message as The Chewing Gum Story.

According to Elizabeth Smart, she was taught by a teacher – she doesn’t say if the teacher was from school or church – that those who engage in sex before marriage – any kind of sex including the non-consenting kind – was like a piece of chewed gum.  And, of course, nobody wants a pre-chewed piece of gum.

This is why she didn’t run for help after being kidnapped as a teenager in Utah. She thought no one – including her parents – would want her anymore.

Elizabeth Smart’s words:

“I thought, ‘Oh, my gosh, I’m that chewed up piece of gum, nobody re-chews a piece of gum, you throw it away.’ And that’s how easy it is to feel like you no longer have worth, you no longer have value,” Smart said. “Why would it even be worth screaming out? Why would it even make a difference if you are rescued? Your life still has no value.”

I pray that no Sunday School teacher, no Scout leader, no school teacher, no coach, no nurse, no parent ever tells a person that he or she has a life without value.  No human being is like a chewed up piece of gum.

This is the opposite of the message of Jesus.  Do we believe Jesus can redeem even the violence committed against a kidnapped teenager?  Do we believe that Jesus can redeem the violence against those women in Cleveland or other victims of human trafficking or pedophilia or other physical abuse?

We cannot allow these lies to be shared ever again, especially in a church setting.  Jesus was not out to shame us.  Jesus came to save us from shame.

One of These Things is Not Like the Other: TED Talks, The Moth, & Sermons

Stop what you are doing right now and listen to this.  Or this.  Or this.  Honestly, these stories could change your life.

People rarely say that about sermons.

Church Consultants have been saying for years now that standing up in a pulpit and preaching a sermon is passe.  We are a visual people.  We like multi-media presentations.  We have short attention spans.

Even screens don’t always help.

Churches are finding that, even if our preachers are entertaining, charismatic, and silver-tongued,  people still will not “come to church.”   Sermon, by definition, equals boring to most of the world.

A Pastor Nominating Committee, in considering their idea of a dream pastor recently, described “good preacher” in their job description.  But then someone asked, “What do you mean by that?”  For some a good preacher is entertaining.  For others a good preacher is bookish.  For others a good preacher moves and inspires.

We can’t even agree on what makes a good sermon.

So why do thousands of people clamor to watch TED Talks (Ideas Worth Spreading)?  Why do people so love The Moth (True Stories Told Live)?  Why is Chicago Ideas Week increasingly popular in the Windy City?  And why do people subscribe to podcasts?

(Some of our favorite podcasts are actually sermons.)

If listening to sermons in church is on the decline,  why are live story-telling and live idea sharing on the rise?  I’m not talking about collaborative conversation here; I’m talking about people who will pay thousands of dollars (TED Talks) to hear interesting people stand up and talk about what’s on their mind.  There are increasingly people who will pay good money to attend Moth Story Slams and Pecha Kuchas.

Why are sermons not like other ‘talks’?

• Are church buildings intimidating?  Do they scream “intolerance” or “irrelevance“?
• Does “going to church” feel like too much of a commitment when going to a story slam feels like an easy in and out?
• Do we prefer to pick our own topics?
• Do preachers sound fake?
• Do high pulpits give the impression that preachers believe we are superior, while stages with spotlights are clearly just for the accoustics?

I wrote a doctoral project years ago about preaching as group spiritual direction and I continue to see how the very act of preaching has shifted from Dogmatic Teaching to Spiritual Reflection intended to be discussed in community.  But I also want to discuss what I hear from Brene Brown and Eboo Patel.

Can you help me dissect all this?  (Thanks.)

Images clockwise from top left:  Brene Brown, Rose George, Sarah Jones, Peter Sagal, .  None of them are preachers.

Clergy Boundaries 2.0

Is it okay for a pastor to hire a member of her church to paint her house?

Is it appropriate for me to send a birthday card to a former church member?

Is it wrong for you to be the keynote speaker at your former congregation’s Men’s Retreat without being invited by the current pastor?

Everybody knows that clergy are not supposed to have sex with their parishioners, right?  (Right?!)

But every day I deal with different, ostensibly more innocent situations between churches and pastors/former pastors and I am honestly at a loss.  I’m still trying to figure out my own boundaries with former parishioners for heaven’s sake.

Part of our issues are generational:  In the 1950s, young male pastors regularly married women in their congregations.  In the 2010s, it’s considered clergy malpractice even to date people in your congregation.

Part of our issues are geographical:  If you now serve a congregation on the north side of town, but the last congregation you served is simply on the west side of town, it’s easier to meet former parishioners randomly or socially.  Maybe you still go running on the same trails.  Maybe you still frequent a restaurant in the old neighborhood.  It might feel like “the old pastor” never left.

Part of our issues are familial: It’s one thing for the former pastor to keep his/her distance from  the former church, but what about the spouse and kids?  Can my kids go to church camp with kids from my former congregation?  Can my husband play golf with old friends from our former church?  Can my wife have lunch with her church lady friends?

Part of our issues are based on maturity and security:  Am I afraid that the church loved my predecessor more than they love me?  Why do I get that uneasy feeling when the former pastor makes a comment on the church’s Facebook page?  Do I joyfully invite the former pastor to church celebrations knowing that many parishioners would love to see him?  Am I retired and free from all the stresses of work, and therefore don’t really care how the current pastor feels when I invite myself to church functions?  Do I insinuate myself in the business of my former church – because I can?

Here’s the essential question:  What’s behaviors best serve the people of God?

What allows our brothers and sisters in Christ to flourish and grow?  What chains them to the past?  What sabotages current and future relationships?  What shames people?  What honors people?  What honors God?

All this has come about because these are some of the issues I’ve already dealt with this week:

• A pastor was not happy when he ran into the former pastor who then said, “Tell __ (an elder church member) ‘Happy Birthday’ from me when you see her.”
• A pastor visited a parishioner in the hospital only to find her predecessor at bedside in prayer with that parishioner.
• A pastor is upset because the former pastor’s wife wants to continue to participate in her ladies group in their former church.
• A former member of a church wants to know if it’s okay for him to apply to be the next pastor.

It’s practically impossible to come up with a one-size-fits-all policy.  So what do healthy boundaries look like where you come from?

Mothers’ Day: Bracing Myself Once Again

As you read this, I’m on the road driving from Charlottesville, VA to Chicagoland after celebrating TBC’s 21st birthday.  I am a mother.

Nevertheless, Mothers’ Day has always been fraught with sadness because I miss my own mother very much.  Like every day.  This loss explains the whopping majority of my pathological issues.

I had a mom for 32 years.  I’ve been a mom for 25 years.  Therefore my let’s-celebrate-Mothers’-Day-as-a-daughter trumps my let’s-celebrate- Mother’s-Day-as-a-mother by seven years.  I semi-hate Mothers’ Day . . .

which brings me to a creative business idea:  cards for people who miss/dislike/avoid/pray-they-aren’t-like their mothers.

Several of my friends are motherless for the first time this Mothers’ Day and my insides ache for them.  It’s fairly miserable. And in the effort to find just the right “I-wish-I-could-help-soothe-your-sadness” Mothers’ Day card – even at those cute, anti-Hallmark card shops, I realized that such cards do not exist.  Or at least I haven’t found them yet.  The closest I came to victory is the image shown in this post.

So, motherless ones, would you like to help me come up with pithy card sentiments?

• “Thinking about you on Mother’s Day“  (too bland?)
• “Mother’s Day Sucks“  (too sharp?)
• “Let’s get together for Mother’s Day & eat key lime pie“  (like it)

Your thoughts?

 

This post is dedicated to those who’ve lost their moms since last Mothers’ Day.  Love to you.

When Children Play Church

I shared in a recent post that TBC used to play church in her room by singing hymns in front of the mirror.  I’ve had parishioners tell me that their preschoolers “play church” by pretending to preach to their dolls and stuffed animals.

I wonder how most children play church.  Do they pretend to be preachers?  Choir directors?  Organists?  Sunday School Teachers?

Or do they “play church” by pretending to make casseroles for their neighbors?  Do they “play church” by pretending to stock food pantries or driving someone to the hospital or praying with somebody?

As some of our faith communities are shifting from a worship-focus to a mission focus, I’m wondering if our children are noticing.  How do the children in your life “play church”?  Or do they?

Image source.

Available 24/7? Not really.

I’ve told this story before about the church member who phoned me late at night – almost every night – to review her day, when I was a single pastor.

Me (waking up to answer the phone after midnight):  Hello?

Lonely Lady:  Hi, Pastor Jan.  How are you?

Me:  (still technically asleep)  Ok.  How are you?

LL:  Well I just watched Citizen Kane again and it’s really excellent.

Me:

LL:  When was the last time you saw it?

Me:  I don’t remember.            Are you ok?

LL:  Yes, I just wanted to chat since you were available.

Me:  Actually I was asleep.  I’m happy to talk in the morning.

LL:  But you have to talk with me.  You’re my pastor.

Me:  If you have an emergency, you can contact me any time.  But if you are calling as a friend, this can wait.

Here’s one of many problems with that conversation:  I am really NOT available 24/7, even in the event of an emergency.  Sometimes I’m driving a car.  Sometimes I’m on vacation.  Sometimes I’m with someone else during her/his own emergency.

We pastors (and other self-claimed “heroes”) need to stop giving people the impression that we are always available.  The beautiful thing about The Priesthood of All Believers is that all of us can be equipped to sit with the frantic, pray with the anxious, hold the hand of the dying.  In fact, if I am the only one doing this, I am a failed pastor.

How can we make this Biblical shift?

• When you hear someone say, “Our pastor is never available” don’t automatically believe it.  Every pastor gets at least one day off a week.  Every pastor works away from his/her office.  In fact, if your pastor does not answer the phone on the first ring, it means that – at that particular moment – he/she is probably doing ministry with someone else.  Or taking a much-needed nap after working late the night before.
• If you need “a pastor” consider who else could help you – A Stephen minister?  A Deacon?  An Elder? A person in your spiritual community with obvious gifts of compassion who is not an official officer of the church?
• Remind your spiritual leaders to keep Sabbath and don’t grouse when they do.

I used to lie in bed at night after a long work day and recall all the things I didn’t accomplish that day.  But we need to change this culture.  We have done enough, if we have done the best we can do.

Image Source.