Difficult Issues in Community

We live in an age when the idea of mutual responsibility is at times freely accepted; the generous outpouring of aid to Haiti is an example. At other times it is suspect, or rejected outright. The national mood is schizoid. We are guided one moment by overwhelming sympathy and the next by fear or overpowering self-interest. Vivid pictures of collapsed homes and orphaned children maximize compassion. We are much less empathetic when we think the “undeserving poor” are taking advantage of us financially.

And so. And so we find ourselves on highly emotional ground when it comes to issues like the war in Afghanistan, taxes, gay and lesbian relationships, health care, and immigration. Discussion becomes difficult and solutions seem hard to come by. And when difficult issues arise, we have all the more reason to talk about them from a faith perspective.

A recent letter from Dr. Roy Medley, General Secretary, ABC-USA, notes that numerous Protestant church leaders, both mainline and evangelical, are deeply concerned about immigration and immigration reform and have talked together at length. He extends an invitation to American Baptists to continue the dialogue.1

Dr. Medley reminds us that in American Baptist congregations, let alone the broader Christian community, there are different perspectives on this subject. None of us can claim superior understanding of the issue or what the Gospel demands of us.

“We aren’t all of one mind on every aspect of immigration reform. We know it must consider such widespread concerns as national security, appropriate means of border control, and the impact on our economic and social welfare systems. At the same time there is broad agreement among Protestant leaders (including those represented in the National Association of Evangelicals, the National Council of Churches, Sojourners and Church World Service) that immigration reform in our country must reflect mercy and justice rooted in God’s love.” To engage in this conversation, we’re encouraged to frame the discussion intentionally and structure it carefully.

A faith framework is critical. It should be based on the scriptures in light of God’s revelation in Christ Jesus. As Dr. Medley’s letter points out, the Old Testament is replete with concern for the alien and the stranger: “The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the LORD your God” (Leviticus 19:34).

Then there is the prophetic voice. Micah 6:8 says, “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

Medley writes, “In the New Testament, the greeting of Christ, “Fear not,” (Matt 10:31, Luke 12:32, John 14:27b) is a powerful antidote to the fear that so often marks conversations such as this. Likewise the story of the Good Samaritan and Jesus’ description of the final judgment are critical to our perspective:

“And when did we see thee a stranger and welcome thee, or naked and clothe thee? And when did we see thee sick or in prison and visit thee?' And the King will answer them, `Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.' (Matt 25:38-40)

Structure is also important. A discussion guide from the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America points out,

“In a conversation of this kind, listening is as important as talking. Genuine listening is not a passive activity, but an active, demanding one. Listen not only for the content of what is said, but for the way it is said – such as the language used, the tone of voice, the kind and level of feeling expressed, the body language and facial expression of the person speaking … and so on. Also be attentive for what is not said. Being more conscious about this kind of deep listening will help us to hear and understand better what other people are saying.” 2

It would surprise me if each of us weren’t encouraged, in one way or another, to talk about a difficult issue – perhaps even immigration reform – during the coming weeks. I invite you to take part in such a discussion as a believer in Christ, knowing that you bring a unique, caring, Biblical perspective to the conversation, whether it be in the church or in the world.

Pastor Mike
1 Medley, Roy A. Letter Addressing Immigration and Immigration Reform. American Baptist Churches USA, May 14, 2010
2 Bloomquist, Karen L. Talking Together as Christians. Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, 1999.

What About the Girl?

Luke tells a fast-paced story in Acts 16. It involves Paul, Silas, and the narrator, Luke himself. It takes place in Philippi, inland from the northwest shore of the Aegean Sea, where the Apostle and his companions were followed “for many days” by a slave girl who kept crying out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation."

Paul finally became exasperated, cast out the “spirit of divination,” got mobbed by the city merchants, and along with Silas was tossed in jail for disrupting the peace and the local economy. The story goes on to tell about the earthquake that broke their chains, the conversion of the Philippian jailer, and the resumption of Paul’s missionary journey.

A question that lingers is, “What about the girl?” She was cured of her enslavement to a spirit of some kind, and since she no longer had the gift of divination she was probably dumped by her owners. No more profit possible. Paul seemed consumed with his larger mission. Did the girl get left in the dust?

One of the drawbacks of ministry is that some of the most marginalized people can be bypassed as we seek to do God’s greater work. Put together an impressive worship service. Accomplish a mission project.

Karen Huey, in a meditation on this passage, says that although Paul might have acted out of compassion for the girl, the text plainly says that he was "very much annoyed"; this exorcism is almost impulsive. Paul was tired of being heckled by the girl and the spirit that possessed her. He was focused on doing what he came to do, and healing slave-girls doesn't appear to have been on his agenda. [1] Did he choose the greater good at the expense of a few?

Philippi isn’t the only place this has happened. Public programs instituted for the “greater good” have often intruded on the lives of individuals. The military is infamous for its euphemisms; “collateral damage” is one that describes the supposedly unavoidable killing of civilians in the course of winning a battle. And it happens in church. We can get pretty task oriented about our mission and risk leaving some in our church family behind.

If we ask, “What about the girl?” it leads us to more questions. One is, “What about me? What am I still enslaved to in my daily life?” Ronald Cole-Turner reflects on this and asks, in the words of the repentant jailer: "What must I do to be saved from what destroys me? What must I do to be saved from my particular bondage, my oppressive addiction, emptiness, or boredom? There are countless ways to lose our way in this world or to be in bondage, just as there are many different threats from which we need to be saved." [2]

The answer begins with our willingness to pose the question in the first place. Are you willing to keep asking what it takes to be saved? Unless we ask, it’s unlikely that the freeing work of God will become available to us.

Another question is, “What do we do with our slave girls?” Or more to the point, what do we in the church do with the people who feel they are good, faithful Christians, who attend worship, serve in some capacity, but feel like something is missing.? Or with those outside the church who feel enslaved, but won’t come in?

Reggie McNeal, author of the book The Present Future, describes the first group: “The faithful, maybe silently or not so silently, wonder when their ticket is going to be punched, when they are going to experience the changed life they’ve been promised and expected to experience at church. In North America, people have been led to believe that (the) Christian life is all about church.” He says that when the church fails them, this “not only creates doubt about the church, it also leads them to all kinds of doubt about God.”

There are people like this in every congregation, ours included—who aren’t experiencing the spiritual transformation for which they hoped. As one Christian writer said, “They came to us seeking God, and we gave them church instead.” [3]

So what do we do with those who don’t see church as the answer? We reach out. Waiting for people to come in the door doesn’t work. As a friend recently reminded me, “What makes you think anybody on the outside wants to come in your church? They don’t. Get over it.”
Besides, the end goal isn’t the survival of the church building. It takes an extra step to look at our community and identify the needs that exist – for redemption, forgiveness, physical needs and spiritual wholeness. In the face of those needs we don’t offer church. We offer the good news of salvation in Christ Jesus. We don’t offer church. We offer God. One on one.

Pastor Mike

1 Huey, Karen, Weekly Seeds, May 7, 2010
2 Ibid
3 Watson, Suzanne, Sixth Sunday of Easter

Retreat

The Together in Ministry format is enhanced by a retreat experience. Ours was held at a local Benedictine monastery earlier this week, guided by a Catholic sister who led us through a time of introspection and silence. She encouraged us to go to a deeper level of intimacy with each other and with God. Her guiding thought was that Christ dwells in the heart, and that it takes focus to get in touch with what the heart has to say.

Here are some of the challenges I encounter when I try to find that focus. If you're a group leader or facilitator, especially for a religious group, you might be able to connect with them.

• I identify with Siler's comment: "Few professions are so tempted as the pastorate is by excessive attention, from adulation to censure, plus all the responses in between. The applause is as lethal as the criticism, maybe more so. How quickly we can become full of ourselves. Like all public leaders focused on outward presentation, we run the increased risk of an impoverished inner life." [1] While an inward focus calls me to step back from public evaluation, it isn't that easy. The voices of congregation, friends and family play a looping tape in my head. Filtering out the applause and the criticism in order to hear God speak takes work.

• Intimate moments in a group can be difficult to attend to. For me there is a temptation to back away from revealing deeper emotions or hearing those of others. Group members, myself included, will often look for safety in humorous remarks or self-effacing comments. Maybe that's why having a capable facilitator is a good thing. He or she can restore my attention to what matters.

• The same challenge comes when I try to "hear the intimate voice of the heart." My mind wants to go to the things I have done before, the things I "have" to do today, tomorrow, next week - anywhere to get out of hearing what God has to say within.

• Another distraction is the temptation to force the experience of introspection into a psychological frame. Freud and his followers have had a marked impact on how I view the world. Making a transition from that perspective to one of faith is an ongoing challenge. From a psychological perspective I try to explain away the validity of listening for God's voice. "It's your (subconscious) (imagination) - you fill in the blank. I'm also a child of my information-age culture. Surely there are immediate explanations for everything! Faith perspective is seen through the lens of what is hoped for, but is often inexplicable. I so want everything to be explained right away.

• Finally, there is the difficulty of sorting out my true identity: Who am I in Christ? Siler goes on to say, "The soul question is one of identity:Who am I, really? Am I my egoic (sic) thoughts and feelings? Am I my ministry? Am I more than my thoughts and feelings? Do I have deeper wisdom? [2] I really have to work in order to identify who and what defines me. Who and what determines my words, actions, and thoughts. The greatest pressure comes in not letting the people I truly care about - their needs and emotions - dictate who I am. God's voice is easily drowned out. I hear it with great difficulty. Maybe it's that way for you.

[1] Siler, Mahan. Anam Cara: Collegial Clergy Communities. Raleigh, North Carolina: Publications Unltd, 2008, p. 24.
[2] Ibid

TIM

Over a year ago I joined a "Together in Ministry" group. Six pastors and a facilitator received support from the American Baptist Churches USA and the Lilly Foundation. I continue to be interested in what keeps the group going. I think part of it is a mutual need for support.

"Together in Ministry" groups were initiated by our denomination four or five years ago due to concerns about ministerial isolation and ineffectiveness. A 2005 study by the United Church of Canada concluded "that, at any given time, most ministry personnel feel satisfied and well-supported in their role. They also likely see their call to ministry as an integral part of their identity. The glass would appear more than two-thirds full. Nevertheless, the results also suggest that many ministry personnel feel overwhelmed with their work and have little time to reflect on their ministerial role. A large number of ministry personnel have trouble finding people they can trust and confide in, and feel powerless to influence change within the United Church. From this perspective, the glass seems half empty. What likely keeps the glass 'topped up' forr many ministers is a commitment to their call, the choice to focus their energy on their pastoral charges, and individual abilities to cope with the role." [1]

For me the glass stays "topped up" for the above reasons, but also because I've found a peer support system. One of the guides for developing Together in Ministry groups has been a book by Mahan Siler called Anam Cara [2] In it Siler defines "Anam Cara," or "soul friend, as "a network of small collegial circles ... who meet regularly to offer mutual support, collaboration, and accountability in their practices of theological reflection, leadership and Spirit awareness." [3] Siler makes a distinction between isolation and "aloneness." He says isolation comes with the pastoral territory, but aloneness can be overcome.

• Support has to do with a mutual commitment to growth as a person and a minister
• Collaboration entails accessing the wisdom of colleagues
• Accountability is the glue of the group. It calls for an honest and gracious review of our commitment to each other.

In our Together in Ministry group, this seems to work.

[1] The Warren Sheppel Research Group: "Study of Isolation in Ministry for the United Church of Canada," 2005.

[2] Siler, Mahan. Anam Cara: Collegial Clergy Communities. Raleigh, North Carolina: Publications Unltd, 2008.

[3] Ibid, p. 9

Connections

Some years ago James Ashbrook wrote a book that explored community.[1] The book was presented in a way that would visually challenge even the most focused reader. (A first impression suggests a typesetter doused in LSD.) But it was also, I believe, a different way of looking at what it means to be together in the world. Ashbrook wrote in the midst of radically changing values - what he saw as:

• a move to being and becoming, instead of merely doing,
• immediacy, instead of the past or the future,
• other-directedness, versus inner-directedness.
• a prizing of some kinds of tolerance and diversity and
• a "drift toward an equalization of the roles of men and women." (16)

Whether his impressions about values were accurate or not, he correctly anticipated a new social reality: "Nothing stays put. Everything swings." And in the midst of that he asks, "How are connections re-established?"

For Ashbrook being connected depends on self-disclosure, which he more or less links to a holy "in-spiriting," Pentecost-like drive from within that lets others know where we are, what matters, what we intend and want. "When in-spiriting awakens humanizing and establishes communications, we do not stop with simply getting through. Invariably, we continue being together. We are joined to communing community. That is, we find ourselves in a pattern of relationships that support, strengthen, challenge, chasten, restore." (52) Ashbrook and those like him helped set the stage for what are now called Together in Ministry groups.

[1] Ashbrook, James B. Be/Come Community. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1971.

Speaking of Groups...

My first experience with small group dynamics was in seminary (yeah, a long time ago) when as part of the psychology curriculum, the class was expected to participate in an "encounter group." There were about 15 of us involved. As I think back the intent of this exercise, which took part over the better part of a weekend, was to break down the barriers that existed between participants, encourage us to open up to each other, and allow us to get to the real heart of who we were.

It was, from my standpoint, pretty much a disaster. Sleep wasn't part of the agenda, and tired people are likely to say just about anything. As the process wore on the group members became increasingly insistent that each person reveal his or her private self. The more exhausted we became the more freely we shared personal sins, weaknesses, misgivings, and animosities, and many of the latter were directed at other members of the group. While there may have been an attempt to debrief the experience at its close, I have no memory of it. I only know that I promised myself I would never go through anything like that again.

But the best intentions pave the way to, well, you know. In my first church call I thought it would be a great idea to form a small, intimate group of young adults. We would study the Bible, read a book or two together, keep confidentiality, and speak from the heart. The group was a great success - initially. We had much in common: young children, the tension of being in a church made up largely of older people, parental interference. We became, as you would say, tight. Then in the early part of the third year of the group's existence my wife and I went on vacation and two of the other couples in the group went camping. They found it expedient to switch partners, resulting in two divorces, one remarriage, and the suspicion on the part of some church leaders that I had engineered the whole thing.

Not a bad conclusion, actually, considering that one of the divorcees was the daughter of the church moderator.

I share this experience because group identity is important. Who we perceive ourselves to be, as congregations, Together in Ministry Groups, Communities of Practice, or Pool Players Anonymous, impacts not just the group members themselves but also the wider Christian Community. As I said earlier, defining group identity is a critical matter. And it isn't that easy.

Defining Ourselves

I'm a pastor, and how we define ourselves is a question I struggle with. By "ourselves" I mean the groups of which we are a part. For me those groups are pretty much church-centered. And frankly, my membership in them tends to be dictated by my job description.

I’m fairly introverted; my idea of relaxation isn’t to join another group. So most of my joint ventures come with the pastoral territory. For me there’s a central group, our congregation, with all of its sub-clusters: ministry teams, leadership groups, task teams – we can find more ways to sort 350 people than you can imagine. Youth, adults, shut-ins, musicians, teachers, children - the list is endless.

The congregation connects with a number of other groups: in the community (local mission efforts, a downtown pastor’s group), our American Baptist “region” that’s made up of churches from Colorado, Wyoming, New Mexico and (I think) part of Utah, and national and international mission efforts. It’s a web of relationships.

I do have some personal interests outside the church. I have a family. I belong to an Institutional Review Board at the local hospital that's responsible for tracking research protocols. In past lives I was a member of a national association of police chaplains and belonged to a watercolor society. I also do some scuba diving once in awhile, but that isn’t really a group thing. That’s vacation.

Another core group I belong to is the executive committee for our regional Ministers Council. I've tried to convince the powers that be to make "Ministers" possessive, but they'll have none of it. It's with this group that the issue of "defining ourselves" arises.

The Ministers Council is a voluntary group of pastoral leaders that is partly about fellowship - encouraging one another in our personal and communal spiritual lives, and partly about skill development. A recent workshop sponsored by the Lilly Foundation was held in Denver recently to enhance both of those focal points, and it challenged my thinking about group identity. The workshop was entitled Communities of Practice. It was led by Dr. Joe Kutter, Acting Director of the American Baptist Ministers Council. The assumption behind the workshop is that knowledge, and therefore learning, is a social process best discovered, shared, learned and applied in community.

It draws on the works of Etienne Wenger, and Cultivating Communities of Practice - A Guide to Managing Knowledge (Wenger, E., McDermott, R. and Snyder, W., Boston: Harvard Business School Press, 2002) was the textbook for the workshop. The academic forerunner for this book, Communities of Practice - Learning, Meaning, and Identity (Wenger, E., New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998) was published earlier as part of the Learning in Doing-Social, Cognitive, and Computational Perspectives series. Wenger takes a social constructionist approach which says in effect that social reality is constructed in relationships. His focus is also on business models, so it takes some translating to move his thoughts into the religious arena.

A precursor to Communities of Practice is the Together in Ministry group approach, also fostered by the Lilly Foundation. Together in Ministry lays a foundation for groups that focuses on relationships and trust-building. Communities of Practice takes Together in Ministry a step further, encouraging participants to come together to share expertise as well as common interests. Over the course of the Denver workshop a group of 14 pastor-types, me included, narrowed its common interest to two areas: self-care and reaching out to the community. Those seemed to be the topics that captured the needs not only of the workshop participants, but also defined what we thought were the concerns of our colleagues in ministry in the region.

We were encouraged to focus on those two themes in the days ahead, building a "community of practice" that would allow us to share knowledge and expertise with each other and the broader family of church leaders. During a subsequent meeting I found that defining our group identity was a critical step in the process. And it isn't that easy.

God, the Tightening Hope

I confess to reading, over Christmas vacation, before bed and after playing with assorted grandchildren, a couple of Harry Potter books. I know. I’m terribly late to the party. Harry has been around for quite awhile, maturing in print and on the screen with all his secret wizardly gifts.

I came away from J.K Rowling’s fictional world with a couple of thoughts. One was the nagging question of what it would be like to hide under a disappearing cloak, discharge sparks from a wand, or go back in time. But that’s what happens with a story. It drags you in and carries you along, regardless of how unrealistic it may seem from the outset.

Another thing was this: Harry wore me out. During the summer his world was filled with oppressive guardians, and during the school term with spells, confrontations, sleepless nights, cantankerous spirits, and certain classmates and teachers bent on disgracing him. Then there was the ongoing challenge he faced of sorting out which aquantances were good and which were not. First appearances weren’t always correct. So for Harry it was one trial after another, seemingly 24/7. Wizards, I thought, must be inexhaustible. Harry was ADD on Starbucks.

As non-wizardly humans we risk not so much being worn out as worn down. The evening news alone is enough to lead one into despair. What if Iran gets the bomb? What if the terrorists sneak through? What if the economy continues to crumble, the Democrats (or Republicans) remain in office, the globe warms, the DaVinci Code is true, or planets collide?

Christians aren’t immune to anxiety and despair. The things that mislead us most frequently are poverty-stricken interpretations of scripture, the ones suggesting that God makes certain promises and then fails to follow through. As one author points out, “The prosperity gospel, which promises that material prosperity will come to the faithful, may have contributed to the economic crisis. Sermons on the hope of divine blessing have encouraged people to take financial risks, like signing on to subprime mortgages and tapping out their credit cards. In some instances, banks preyed on poor people through the church: pastors invited loan officers to speak at wealth-building seminars, and in exchange the banks would give $350 to the church for each mortgage taken out.”[1]

My personal hunch is that the pastors who encouraged these investments got a cut. They aren’t hurting with their own mortgages now. Personal financial prosperity? Scriptural assurance goes in a different direction: “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.” (Romans 5:1-2)

God’s promises have little to do with personal wealth and a lot to do with relationships - first, with our relationship with the Lord, and second, our relationships with one another. To be at peace with God is the overwhelming promise, and the certain assurance, of the Gospel. In the meantime we are called to confront the desire to take advantage of others, financially or otherwise. When it comes to both greed and despair, God is agin 'em. Or as John Shea puts it in the poem "A Prayer to the God Who Will Not Go Away,"

Lord,
you are the poetry of wordless lives,
the salting of tasteless purposes,
the reminder that we are more than
the sinking spiral of the dying sparrow …
you are the tightening hope
that someone has stretched a net
beneath this high wire act of ours.[2]

[1] Hanna Rosin, cited in “Mixed Blessings,” The Christian Century, January 12, 2010, p. 8.
[2] Shea, John, The Hour of the Unexpected, 1992, p. 57.

A Baptist's View of Baptism

The business of baptism confused me for awhile. Apart from my own baptism at age 12, I first began thinking about what Baptists call this “ordinance” as a biblical teaching during seminary. One day a pastor – I can’t recall his name – came around promoting his book. It argued that Baptists were the Christians who were truest to scripture because they were spiritually descendants of John the Baptist. That seemed like quite a jump to me, but I didn’t have the energy to refute his thinking.

In the liturgical calendar we recall the baptism of Jesus at this time of the year. Luke tells us about it: “The people were waiting expectantly and were all wondering in their hearts if John might possibly be the Christ. John answered them all, ‘I baptize you with water. But one more powerful than I will come, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.’

“When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased." (Luke 3:15-18, 21-22)

John demanded repentance. He warned his listeners that the axe was already at the foot of the trees, and that every tree not producing good fruit would be cut down and thrown into the fire. Then Jesus came to be baptized, but he had a different take on repentance. And here’s where I think we sometimes miss the point. We get stuck on the part about repentance, which is important, but we overlook the kind of baptism Jesus calls us to experience. Our inclination is to dwell on past sins, repeatedly praying for God’s forgiveness. We don’t want to get tossed in the fire, and we are convinced that the unrepentant are headed in that direction. We suppose that by some public act of contrition, namely baptism by immersion, we can persuade God to let us off the hook.

Jesus insists on repentance, but his focus is different. He connects it with belief in the reality of who God is. "The time has come," he said. "The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!" (Mark 1:15) Repentance is a turning away from one thing toward something else. Jesus demands that we turn away from our belief that God is not loving, that God is “only too ready to cast us into the fires of hell given half an excuse,”[1] and begin living as recipients of forgiveness. “Getting baptized” doesn’t persuade God of anything. That would be salvation by works, not by grace.

For Jesus repentance is no longer maintaining a checklist of wrongs (committed by us, or by others whom we like to keep close tabs on). It’s an affirmation of God’s love for us.

For Jesus the event at the Jordan is a debutante ball, a coming out party, when his true identity is revealed. The words, "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased," echo Isaiah’s: “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight…” (Isa 42:1) That association defines Jesus not as a punishing judgmental deity, but as the servant who is despised, rejected, crucified, and cut off from the land of the living.

And God affirms his love for him with a sign of peace, the dove. Just like in Noah’s day the dove announces that despite suffering and hardship, everything will be put right in the end. God will wipe the tears away and conquer death. Or as Julian of Norwich put it, “And all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

At his baptism, Jesus is immersed – in the fire of suffering love. That’s what the Holy Spirit bestows. It’s the awareness that as God’s people, we are baptized in the same way. Like Jesus, we are sent out into a hostile world armed with the passion of God’s love and forgiveness. At times it costs us. But underlying the expense are the words that are inscribed on our hearts: “You are my child, my beloved; with you I am well pleased.” And resting in that belief, "all manner of things shall be well."

[1] “Fire and Water,” http://www.laughingbird.net