Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Ordination Reflections

It was a real pleasure for me to spend a couple of days with my friend Chris and his wife, particularly to participate in his ordination on Sunday afternoon. Chris had a bang-up weekend, receiving his Ph.D. on Friday and being ordained a minister in the United Church of Christ on Sunday. It was a time to celebrate.

And I was thrilled to be able to celebrate with my friend. He deserved this weekend, with all of the hard work and headaches that have been a part of the journey. And there have been many headaches, especially with the church. Without going into details, I should simply say that Chris should have been ordained long before I was, but was not, due to an astonishing array of obstacles.

For all of its lovingness, the church (as it is manifested in various places and at various times) can be unbelievably unfriendly and unsupportive. For having the wisdom of the ages in its tradition, the church is often stunningly short-sighted and maybe even willfully ignorant. For many years, this was a part of the church experience of my friend, as it has been the experience of countless others.

In the face of this, many gifted individuals have walked away from the church. They have decided, understandably, that life is too short for such nonsense. If the church does not value their opinions, knowledge, service, etc., so be it -- there are many other places where such gifts are gratefully accepted. And so they leave the church, seeing only the politics or stubbornness or foolishness, and forgetting the grace made manifest in Christ.

My friend did not leave the church -- though he did leave one denomination for another. Instead, he persistently worked, believing that God had a purpose for him to serve within the church, and kept seeking out opportunities to serve in churches. He caused some people headaches along the way -- people who thought his ideas were too far out there, people who thought his approaches were wrong because "we've never done it anywhere close to that way before."

I was proud to celebrate that on this day, such persistence was rewarded with the human recognition of something prepared by God long ago. My friend became an ordained minister. I was pleased to witness this day. And I am pleased that others will know, by the "Rev. Dr." that precedes my friends name, that the church recognizes and affirms his many gifts, as he endeavors to preach the gospel and challenge the darkness, to serve those in need and encourage others to join him, to model faith in Jesus Christ.

But I also know that others, long frustrated and ostracized and criticized -- if not emotionally hurt -- by the church and by Christians in the name of the church, will not endure such slings and arrows indefinitely. And I wonder if that's why our pews are emptier than they should be on Sunday mornings. People who've tried to serve but have been told, maybe just by one sharp-tongued critic, that they should not cause such turmoil with their new ideas. People who've tried to love people different from them only to be shown a consistently cold shoulder.

And what of the other people these people meet? Do those who've been disappointed in and by the church keep their mouths shut, or do they share their frustrations, testifying to the needless (even hypocritical) agony the church has caused them? And do those people just shrug it off, or do they heed the fair warning that "the church" (for these criticisms of single congregations become criticisms of us all) is not as welcoming or as loving or as hopeful as it professes itself to be.

I do not know. Perhaps these are cloudy thoughts for another time. But I worry about it, having seen it firsthand with people (and not just my friend Chris). And I celebrate all the more when someone has faced these trials and persevered, not just for their own good, but for the good of us all.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, October 12

On Sunday, we'll continue our first glance at faith stories by focusing on the present, "the now," in such stories. As you well know, a big part of my faith story, right now, is that I am an ordained minister who serves as pastor of a church. While this is a somewhat unique story of faith -- many more faithful people are called to serve, to minister, in ways different from ordained ministers -- it is not so different as to be unrecognizable.

My professional position -- pastor -- now is the most prominent way in which I live out my faith. What I do as a pastor, and why I do those things, all grow from the faith that was fundamental to my childhood. But what I do as a pastor, and why, also grow from specific growing points -- even turning points -- in recent years: meaningful things that I have learned from. (And, I happily add, my faith story continues to be lived out in ways that are not essentially a part of my job as a pastor, though that's for another time.)

The middle part of a faith story is often the longest, filled with details and anecdotes, relationships with others, activities, dreams pursued and dreams deferred. There is also a key part to the "now" in a faith story, which is not a necessary part of all stories: purpose. As Christians, we are called to live our lives with purpose, to do things for others in Christ's name. Often part of our faith story is about discovering, defining, and acting on that purpose.

This part of the story will be related to the beginning of the story, where the roots of our faith are developed. But they also grow out of turning points -- out of important changes or decisions -- that we've made over the course of time.

So in this sermon, we will talk about continuity and change, and about God-given purpose, in our lives. And we'll consider how we learn to talk about these parts of our lives.

Coda to the Jewish Monarchy Series

Earlier this week, Roger posted a long-promised blog article on David and Uriah, "Who Speaks for Uriah?" I heartily recommend it to you. It is an excellent perspective on the story. And it is well worth your attention.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Pastor to a President?

Imagine my surprise when I saw this photo, courtesy of The Tennessean.



(You can see the original photo source here.)

In this photo, you can clearly see two well-dressed men participating in a town hall meeting/debate. And one of them is Brett, a member of Central Christian.

I'm feeling very out of touch. I didn't even know Brett was running.

Kidding aside, I'm thrilled to learn that Brett has been a stand-in for John McCain in the preparations for the second 2008 Presidential Debate, which is being hosted by Belmont University (where Brett is a student).

Rumor is, for his effort (work really) the past few days, Brett gets to attend the debate. I'm very excited for him and look forward to hearing his report on all this.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Coming Up Sunday, October 5

On Sunday we'll begin our year-long emphasis on faith stories -- how we live them out, how we tell them, how we hear them. In October, we'll spend some time considering faith from a first-person perspective, thinking about how someone we know might tell the story of their faith. To personify this, I will present parts of my own faith story as examples during sermons this month.

However, I use myself only as an example, which means that the sermons are not (thankfully) going to be entirely about me. Rather, I'm going to focus on key aspects of personal faith stories -- coming to faith, finding purpose in faith, struggling in faith -- using parts of my story as an example.

This week, the story will be about coming to faith. We'll talk about Sunday School and childhood, about sin and the need for confession, about coming to believe there is a God who is involved in human affairs. I'll warn you: parts of my story are unusual, for better or worse. But as I've come to accept over the years, it's my story, for better or worse.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

A Look Back: The Early Jewish Monarchy

The sermon series on the early Jewish monarchy has come to an end -- perhaps none too soon for some of you. (Along those lines, you should know that Roger C. has again this week poked fun at the sermon series in his blog, Dispatches from No. 3 Equity Court.) So this seems like an appropriate time to look back at the series.

But I'll be honest -- not much in the way of overarching reflection is coming to me. For the first time in months, I'm not preparing a sermon about ancient Israel. This doesn't excite me or sadden me; it simply is.

Occasionally I have practical goals for sermons. Sometimes I focus on stewardship or leadership, for example. But usually I simply try to approach the Bible honestly and openly. I feel that there are things to be said, lessons to be taught, and applications to be made from almost every verse of scripture. So I open the Bible, pick a passage, and listen for God's word. Then I reflect and pray. And when Sunday morning comes around, I get up and talk. And I trust that we'll all learn a bit about God and ourselves in the sermon.

I'm not saying that I don't put effort into preaching; I am admitting that I'm a lot more flexible than most people would imagine, even though I try to preach in "sermon series." I do pick passages of scripture that I find to be related in certain ways for each series. But I know that there is a depth to each passage beyond those initial relationships to be explored, so I rarely have any preconfigured framework for specific sermons in a sermon series.

And there was no overarching framework for this series on the Jewish monarchy. I thought it would be 1) interesting, 2) thought-provoking, 3) theologically significant, and 4) contextually beneficial to study Saul and David (and Solomon, though you can see that I cut the series short before we really got to Solomon). Interesting because Biblical history (if you get beyond the "begats") is genuinely interesting; thought-provoking because the issues raised in these stories have important things to teach us about our own faith (individually and collectively) and the relationship of our faith to both the church and the wider culture; theologically significant because I think that too often Protestant preachers only preach out of the New Testament (some almost exclusively preach out of the four gospels), and I think that is both unwise and unsound; and contextually beneficial because these lessons from Saul and David play directly into the lessons about, and the teaching of, Jesus Christ. We will read the gospels better for our time spent reading 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 Kings. We will read the whole of the Bible better for our time spent reading 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 Kings.

Looking back, I count 16 sermons in this series. This is by far the longest series I've ever preached. Few pastors would attempt such a thing, both because of their own short attention span and because they fear that no congregation would let them. So I was in uncharted territory most of the summer -- especially given that I was creating the series month to month, as we went along.

For me, the series was about several things. I think it was about hopes and dreams -- the entire point of the monarchy is to make Israel and strong nation that can stand tall among the nations of the earth -- and about how those hopes and dreams were sometimes achieved, but sometimes out of reach. It was about fathers and sons, and the often complicated relationships between them. It was about the beginning of the many religious and political claims upon the city of Jerusalem, which greatly influences global politics today.

I still can't get over the almost blatant double standard for Saul and David. Looking back, I think I might have glossed over Saul's almost total descent into despair toward the ends of his reign (though that certainly came up in "All the King's Children" regarding his treatment of David). But otherwise, I think I portrayed both Saul and David fairly. And looking at it, it is clear that Saul is judged by a much harsher standard than David.

Looking back, I enjoyed preaching several of the sermons, though occasionally they gave me some restless Saturday nights. I was especially moved by "The Domestication of Transcendence: David Dreams of the Temple," the first sermon on the temple by the recognition that God allowed David's dream to become His own dream, on David's behalf. That is an amazing lesson and a glimpse into God's all-encompassing love for us (including for our hopes and dreams). And I enjoyed the David and Goliath sermon, as I know many of you did.

Perhaps you have other favorites or things that you'll take from this sermon series. If so, I hope you'll share them with each other and with me as time goes on. And feel free to share them here, in the comments section. And we can keep learning together.