The Paradigm Shift

I was recently asked by a fellow pastor, “Wes, are you going to show something new every time we get together?”  When I responded what this pastor meant they replied, “Well, I still haven’t figured out the last tool you showed off.” I get this pastor’s point, the problem is it springs from a mentality that no longer works.  A mentality, I might add, many churches still work from.

My friend still thinks of the trends I show in technology as a series of tools to be learned, mastered, and leveraged.  As such, the rapid development of these tools – e-mail, personal web-sites, blogs,myspace/facebook, texting, IM, linkedIN, youTube, and twitter – seems overwhelming.  After all, no sooner do you master one tool, that seven more are developed!  It’s no wonder that people and churches which are working from the mentality of “tools to be learned, mastered, and leveraged” retreat into their shell.  The rapidity of change and development is enough to drive anyone mad.

Here’s the problem.  The above mentality springs from the old industrial revolution mind-set of specialization.  People learned to do one thing, and do it well – that’s all they needed to master.  That was revolutionary in it’s day, and created a lot of displacement when it happened, but over time it became the accepted norm.  It was simply how things got done – and that mentality migrated off of the manufacturing floor and into every facet of industrialized society.  Heck there’s even a seminary out there that boldly proclaims how they train “specialists in the Bible.”

The Industrial Revolution, however, is over.  We are in the midst of the Communications Revolution and the old mentality of “learn, master, leverage” no longer functions.  The tools expand, adapt, and migrate away from the specialists to rapidly to keep up.  Every vocation needs to accept this paradigm shift, even pastors.  We can no longer simply hope to teach people a tool to master so they can Communicate with others in this shifting environment – people will feel discouraged and overwhelmed near-instantly.  Rather, we need to train people into embracing a mentality which can migrate with the shifting tool-set along with those who are native to the Revolution.  This mentality would help people to first focus on the nature of the Communications Revolution, rather than it’s tools – a mentality which helps people to understand that it is act of networking and strengthening connections that matters more than the tools that are used to make the connections.  From this mentality,  an intuition can be learned that assists people as the tools shift.  Instead of wondering what buttons to press in order to master the tool, people will learn to watch and see how any given tool is helping people to connect.

The irony is that the mentality central to the Communications Revolution is actually closer to the heart of the Church than the specialist model of the Industrial Revolution – churches have been in that model so long, however, that specialization is viewed as the way things have “always been done.”  It’s my hope that the Holy Spirit will continue to make believers aware of the possibilities for ministry in this revolutionary time as we move forward.

Getting started, however, is the trick.  Many people feel as though they’ve been forcibly migrated into the Communications Revolution – exiled from their home in the Industrial mentality.  Resentment among these people high, as is sorrow for what has been lost and bitterness towards those who have managed to adjust.  Perhaps in this the prophetic message with call upon the exiles in Babylon to embrace life in the foreign realm, along with the Biblical tradition of healthy lamentation, may help move us forward.  Time will tell, but we must make a start.

I’m Back

Today is my first day back from vacation.  I’ve connected with some folks and got some processes underway for Annual Session in September, so it’s been a productive day so far.  I have to say though, I despise mail.  I spent nearly an hour going over the junk that gets sent to me.  90% ended up in the vertical filing cabinet, talk about wasted time!

Vacation was a nice break, and I tried to keep off the computer as much as possible, I even turned off IM and Twitter for significant portions of my trip so I couldn’t get ambushed while checking weather reports.  That was a good decision that got me further “away.”  I needed that.

This last Sunday I visited All Saints Episcopal Church in Hershey, PA for worship.  My wife and Kids head to her parents church when we’re out in Hershey, but I like to go visiting.  I’ve had a hit and miss with worship experiences out in the Hershey area.  I’ve been to two big “successful” Church and came out fearing for the future of the faith in this country.  One was a Willow Creek wannabe will no substance whatsoever, and the other was a “relevant” Church with poor preaching, unfriendly people, and stupid traditions that filled in the gap left by a profound lack of liturgy.  The latter church also thought that playing a country song where the father of a daughter going on a date warned her boyfriend that he’d be home, cleaning his gun.  This latter church frightened me.

All Saints, by contrast, was a truly refreshing experience of the communion of saints.  The interim rector was casual, friendly, and interacted with the congregation as the liturgy progressed.  On the liturgical scale in the Anglican Communion, it was “low,” but incorporated some elements that I’d expect from a higher liturgy, like the ringing of a bell with prayers.  The rector also pointed out things he wanted the congregation to ponder from the collect and the readings during the announcements, which was a great touch that I might consider doing myself at Central in the near future.  It was the rector’s last Sunday with the congregation, however, which changed the sermon format a bit.  This was a shame because from his short reflections at the opening of worship I would have liked to see the pastor delve in a bit deeper.

The “contemporary” churches I’ve been to all tend to advertise their casual nature and friendliness.  My experiences, however, have led me to believe that if a Church feels the need to advertise such things then chances are that they’re really trying to convince themselves.  All Saints, on the other hand, was extremely welcoming from the moment I stepped in the door.  Greeters were marked by name badges (which, I admit, I think is hokey even if it is effective), and I was invited to sign the churches guest book.  I had a nice chat with the gentleman who welcomed me at the door, and then with a family that was greeting at the back of the pews.  I must admit that I felt a bit nervous showing up at a liturgical church in shorts and sandals (though I did have a collared shirt), but I never felt out of place.  In fact, the dress of the congregation was much like Central, some wore suits (it was air-conditioned) while others were “business casual” or even casual.  I did see some jeans, and several children were in shorts.  I got the feeling that the congregation accepted this ranges of dress style because they had a genuine affection for each other – something that I’ve noticed developing at Central over the years.  I guess the only time my outfit came up was when the main greeter correctly assumed I was on vacation (I didn’t tell him I was wearing my summer preaching attire).

The progression of the liturgy was deliberate but, as I said, casual.  The priest enjoyed bantering with the music director and other members of the vestry during some elements – which helped the congregation to sense a connection with what was going on up front.  I also appreciated the hymns, particularly the first, “Alleluia Sing to Jesus,” which is a song of depth and passion, while also inviting people to the liturgy of the Eucharist.  I wish Baptists hadn’t messed up the understanding of worship as much as we have, a hymn like this is sorely needed in our gathering!  I was also touched by  a whispered “welcome” from the priest while I was at the rail for the Eucharist – it was quiet, subtle, and genuine.

After worship I chatted a bit with some members of the congregation, and was warmly invited to join them for their going away luncheon for the interim priest.  I wish I could have gone, but I did need to get home to be with the family as we made our plans for the afternoon.  All in all, I was blessed to have been part of the communion of the saints in Hershey on Sunday.

5 Great Reasons to Give to a Church

A couple of days ago I listed five terrible reasons to give to a Church.  Like I said in the post, they aren’t things I typically hear around Central that much any more.  I have heard them at Central on occasion, and at every other Church I’ve ever been part of.  It’s a terrible shame, but there are a lot of people who belong to churches (even “Bible believing” churches) who don’t get the mission of the Gospel even one bit.

On the other hand, I’ve seen and heard a lot of great reasons to give to a church, and I’d like to share some of them with you.

Because you help free certain people to help the community grow in Jesus.

Yes this seems rather self-serving, and I apologize for it but it does need to be said.  Not every pastor is going to make a living from the Gospel.  Heck, Paul didn’t make a living from the Gospel.  On the other hand, allowing called people to make their living through the Gospel isn’t a bad thing – and can even be a commendable thing.  When people are freed to study, meditate, and serve without having to worry about how they’re going to eat the next day that’s good.  When you give to a church for this reason, pastors are more than employees – they can be leaders and servants.  This means that pastors who receive these gifts have to take special care in obeying their calling – though.  To many of us slack off.

Because you’re grateful for the opportunity to serve the community by offering hope.

I know that there are other organizations out there that might be more efficient at meeting the immediate needs of people – but few of these are able to offer the hope for deep change in people’s hearts and minds and lives.  This is what the Church has to offer when people support that mission, and when people are grateful for that opportunity good things happen.  Please note that I do not consider giving door to door gospel tracts with dubious theology serving the community by offering hope.  Incidentally, this reason ties into the next reason on the list which is…

Because you believe that the impact of worship can change the way we live.

If are grateful for the opportunity to serve others, than worship is that event that should spark that desire.  Worship, the mystical transport of gathered believers to the throne-room of grace – wherein we are joined to the the massive crowd of all the angels, and all the saints above and below around Jesus’ throne – should absolutely have an impact on how we interact with the world.  It’s a shame that so many churches have abandoned this theology of worship, and replaced it with the melodrama of a produced concert – IMNSHO.  If we have been impacted by the experience of worship, and wish to pass on the joy of the impact to others, that’s a good reason to give.

Because you’re thankful to God that you don’t have to follow Jesus alone.

There is no such thing as a “lone-ranger Christian.”  A college professor of mine, who was one of the most gentle men I’ve ever met, once tried to explain the absolute necessity for the church to be part of our lives if we wanted to be transformed into the image of Jesus to a class of “busy” college students.  He told us about the Church being the instrument that Jesus brought into existence, and how it’s carried the faith through thousands of years, and that it’s where the Holy Spirit has changed life after life after life.  Then, to iterate his point he said us us college sophomores, “That’s why, if you are not in worship with other Christians, it’s a sin.”  If stats were accurate, about 8 in 10 of the students at our school hadn’t been to Sunday worship since getting on campus for the semester, so when our prof uttered those words the room became dead silent.  He paused for a moment and then uttered, “I make no apologies for saying that.”

Out of college we all understand that there are reasons one can’t be in morning worship (health professionals in-particular get caught in this).  I also see the wisdom of have multiple worship opportunities over the course of a week for just that reason (Yet another thing my Roman Catholic friends have that I wish we had).  On the other hand, we really should be thankful to Jesus that we’re not alone in this walk – and giving to see that the community, which has been a given to you, can be a gift to others is a good reason to give.

Because, even with it’s warts, you believe that the gathering of Christians is the manifestation of Jesus’ Kingdom here in this world.

I appreciate my friends who want to break off Jesus’ idea of the Church from our local institutions – and in a lot of ways I don’t mind that because there are a lot of institutions out there which are nothing more than religious country clubs.  But, when human beings get together, they form institutions – even the model for the local congregation is roughly based on the institution of the Jewish synagogue.  It’s what we do, and given that Jesus gave this work to us, I’m pretty sure he knew that.  Yes a lot of our institutions are sick because they have theologically and spiritually vapid by-laws that hinder, rather than help, it’s work – but that’s always going to be the case this side of the resurrection.  Giving to a church because you believe that it genuinely does manifest the Kingdom of Jesus through it’s people – is a good reason to give.

5 worst reasons to give to a local church

I have heard, or seen in action, each of these bad reasons for giving in my time as a Christian, and every time I have head one of them I’m cringed inwardly.  I still do here these at Central occasionally, but over the six years I’ve been here they’ve become rarer and rarer.  So much so that they used to be sadly common among the fellowship, but now they look about as out of place as a happy Mets fan at The Bank.  This says a lot about Central – the people who give to it now, by a overwhelming majority, give because they believe we can do something to expand Jesus’ Kingdom together.

Soon I’ll give my five best reasons for giving to a local church – but until then here’s my five worse reasons to give to a local church…

• Because that’s what “good people” do: Folks. let’s be honest – there are a ton of organizations out there that are a heck of a lot more efficient than a local Church at handling a lot of the societal problems that call “good people” to give.  Sure, many of them are “para-church,” but they still aren’t “local churches.”  If you just want to feel good about yourself, feel free to give to them.
• Because you want to keep to keep your membership active: In my time as a pastor I’ve never heard a more insane point argued among church goers.  Yes, we acknowledge the fact that there are such things as “shut-ins” who can’t come to worship, and those folks should never be forgotten by a fellowship (though too many are). Moving six hours away and sending back occasional checks to the congregation doesn’t fit into that category.  What’s worse is when people who move hours away then decide that their children or grandchildren have a “right” to get married in the sanctuary.  Folks, find a fellowship near-by, and give to it.  They need it as much as we do, and you need to be part of a local group of believers.
• Because you want to get your way: This is just typical fallen human behavior, but it’s still a terrible reason for giving to a church even if we understand that we’re all still being sanctified.  The phrase, “Well I give a lot of money to this church and I think/expect/demand that we do what I want,” ought cause the immediate closure of any meeting.
• Because you want to keep “them” from getting their way:  This is actually a terrible reason not to give, but we’ll include it here anyway.  Look folks, I understand that you may not like a form of music, a presentation system, the color of the carpet, or the print in the new hymnals – but withholding your giving to “punish” a congregation that dared to make a decision that you didn’t like is just plain stupid.  Look, if the congregation votes to declare the Trinity optional for a pastor, or starts reading the newspaper as a religious text, feel free to stand up and say, “You know, I don’t think I can support this mission anymore because we’ve walked away from Jesus.”  But damaging the fellowship because you don’t like another’s stylistic preferences is despicable.
• Because you want to collect services for payment: Giving money to a local church is not like purchasing an iTunes gift card.  You don’t get so many “pastoral care credits” for every dollar given.  First, this turns your pastor into nothing more than an employee (which makes them impotent as a shepherd).  Second, that mind-set absolves the giver from their own obligation to care for their neighbors (both church member and otherwise).

A Moving Adventure

On Saturday Central witnessed the great pew migration of 2009.  Our herd had to be moved to other grazing areas so we can prep the floor to get some new carpet.  Here’s a video of the process.  Great job gang.

The Old Old Story

I just finished reading Robert Webber’s Worship Old and New, and I’m better for.  Worship Old and New was first published in 1982 and revised in 1994 – in many ways it acts a the forerunner of Webber’s execellent Ancient-Future series of books.  For pastors or other church leaders who want to expose their congregants to some of Webber’s Ancient-Future material, Worship Old and New is a good place to start.

At time this book was published, Webber’s words issued a clear challenge to Evangelicals to re-capture an ancient (and Biblical) structure of worship.  A challenge, I might add, seems to have fallen largely on deaf ears.  Here in these pages Webber shows why so many Evangelical youth end up getting tired of Evangelical™ worship and end up moving in other directions – would that people had listened!

I re-discovered something about myself as well while I read these pages.  I am a “worship guy.”  I love to delve into the nature and structure of worship and help people see the working out of the Gospel in the experience of worship.  I am a “worship guy,” and there’s nothing wrong with that.  In fact, there is something quite good about that – a good which has come to be challenged by many of my contemporaries that Webber labelled The Younger Evangelicals.  In the thinking of a good number of my contemporaries, it makes no sense to spend so many hours of a week preparing for something that really only exists as a small portion of the congregation’s schedule.  It is better, in that mind-set, to spend more time on things that “matter” in the surrounding community.  I’m don’t knock the desire to “do good” in the community.  Heck, I’m hoping that Central really ramps this up in the coming months and years, but I have to balk at the notion so many of my contemporaries have expressed.  The fact is, the only way you can even think of a notion such as that is to believe that nothing actually happens in worship.

Webber successfully challenged that notion years before it was widely articulated in the world, and I thank him for it.  It is in worship that the congregation enters into the reality of the Gospel,  declares the great saving deeds done by our savior on the Cross, and finds itself joining the great chorus of voices on earth and aroud the heavenly throne shouting the greatness of our Lord.  It is in worship that Earth and Heaven meet, and it is in worship that the victory of Jesus on the Cross spurs us into the world to be a living light for the Kingdom.  Why do I spend so much time on worship?  Because I care deeply that this congregation be a living witness to Jesus by being a real presence in this community.  If worship were merely the singing of some sappy songs which touch our hearts, or the hearing of a lecture on some “key principles” by which we should live, then I would be in perfect agreement that spending any large amount of time on  pondering worship would be a wasted effort.  Worship, however, cannot be captured by the mere singing of songs or the presentation of a lecture – worship is a time of mystical transport into the great feast of our savior.  A point which Webber makes so wonderfully.

So, as Central moves forward into it’s restructuring, then we will also have to look at the structure of our worship (or commission people to take ownership of that responsibility).  After all, As the Church worships, so it believes.

Outdated Education

A couple of weeks ago I read a blog post over on ShellyPalmer.com entitled, “What if your dream job does’t exist anymore?“  It was all about a several conversations that Shelly had with people trying to break into the news media business – looking for dream jobs that either no longer exist, or will soon be extinct.   These conversations culminated in a lecture Shelly did at Columbia Business School – where he was shocked that the students in the class were all looking to do jobs that are no longer what they were, if they exist at all.  I’ll let Shelly’s own words describe his reaction,

Just for fun, I asked about a dozen of them what they hoped to be when they entered the work force. The answers were a total surprise. To a person, they are aspiring to jobs that have devolved into commoditized low wage work, that they still perceive to be high profile, high paying careers.

Reading this post got me thinking about my own seminary education.  I’ve quipped ever since I graduated that I had recieved a wonderful pastoral education at my seminary – for 1950.  Shelly’s post made me realize that it’s not just the Church that’s having a hard time keeping up.  It seems like everyone is getting blind-sided by the rapid transition of our society.  So what are we to?

Well, for once, it would be nice if Christians took time to understand the trend that’s happening in our culture and realized that the way we educate our leadership – from pastors on down – is woefully outdated.  Pastors, and church education curriculums, seem to be designed for churches that don’t actually exist anymore.  This is a problem.

Think about it, my own seminary eduction was structured in such a way  so that I’d be prepared to go to a congregation where the pastor was essentially a CEO who gave a speech to the shareholders once a week.  In-between speeches, the pastor went around to the shareholders, giving them what they thought they needed, paying out dividends to people with a greater stake in company, and trusting that the by-laws managed the business of the company well.  Oh, we put nice spiritual-sounding words on what we were being taught.  Words like, “Pastoral counseling,” “conflict resolution,”  and “denominational polity” – but when you adopt a business format for an organization it warps the way ministry is done.  The medium is the message.

Now, in the 1950’s and 60’s this CEO model worked well because there was an incredible growth of people who wanted to have a share in a congregation somewhere.  It was a statisical glitch in the history of the US, but since it was working no one was bothered much by it.  The shareholders were happy, the CEO’s were doing well, and the parent-companies (denominations) were having a field-day utilizing the expanded resources that the growth of the 50’s and 60’s gave them.

Then the bubble burst.

American culture shifted from the exploratory passion of the laste 60’s, to the hedonism of the 70’s.  An endless war and government scandals left people wary of “traditional authority,” and suddenly people who moved into the endlessly growing suburbs were no longer making the search for a church an immediate priority.  Even worse, people who were coming into the faith  in the 60’s and 70’s were chaffing under the unspoken limits set up by congregations.  Pastors suddenly were CEO’s of corporations with several factions of shareholders – all complaining about things that weren’t covered by the by-laws.  The 70’s and the 80’s were, in many Churches, divisive times as pastoral CEO’s were inevitably drawn into the conflict.  Some sided with people who owned more “shares” in the Church, others were restless themselves and sided with those who were pushing congregations in new directions.  Many more ended up being nothing more than referees – trying to keep feuding factions together until things got back to a “normal” that would never come.  I still meet these pastors – battle scars have left them calm, even-keeled, and dreadfully dull.

These aren’t the congregations seminary is prepping people to pastor.  In 2009, almost 30 years after the CEO model stopped being widely successful – pastors are still taught to be 1950’s era pastors.  Is it any wonder that so many pastors simply burn out and give up?  These churches no longer exist, or are in danger of extinction!

What exists now in many congregations is the echo of what once was.  By-laws are viciously held on to, even though they haven’t worked for years.  The appearance of buildings is kept up, in hopes that one day people will start walking through the doors on their own again.  The factions continue to fight, or keep uneasy truces because they realize that “winning” control of a diminished congregation is a pyrrhic victory at best.  Every one of these congregations that I’ve met has also been waiting for CEO that would lead them into a new future that looked a lot like their glorious past – even while secretly preparing to pounce on the CEO if they step out of line.  The few resources left, after all, have to be protected.

Now, many of my missional and emergent friends see the same trends as I do and say, “Exactly.  That’s why we need to dump the idea of seminary altogether!”  To these friends seminary can never be anything more than several years of prepping to be a congregational CEO that gives weekly speeches to the shareholders.  They want to form entrepreneural and flexible congregations that are “relevant” to what people are looking for now.  I respect the work these friends do, I really do, but I also think they’re making the same mistakes that led to the CEO model lock-in that we ended up with in the 1950’s.  They’re making the assumption that the desires people have now for simple, unadorned, faith are the impulses people will always have.  While these churches are, indeed, flexible – they’re going to discover that they are only flexible within a certain realm of assumptions.  When society shifts again, they’ll be as stressed as “institutional churches” are today.

Seminary is important – but it must change.  The curriculum needs to stop being tweaked to make pastors better CEO’s (“let’s add an evangelism course so they can help the church grow”).  The CEO model is dead or on hospice, let’s allow it to die with whatever dignity it has left.  Instead, I hope that seminary education can focus on continuity – helping hopeful pastors to see ministry as part of the great tapestry of the Christian faith.  Studies in Church history, worship, and ancient discipleship need to form the core of pastoral study – so pastors can help give congregations their context in the grand story of the faith, a context sorely lacking for want of pastors who are unable to see it themselves.  Alongside this work on continuity, pastor’s ought to be taught how to be futurists.  There is an art-form which springs from looking at current trends and then using one’s imagination to see how those trends are changing the world in which we do mission.  I’m tired of congregations being 15-20 years behind the curve, we need congregations (and pastors) who are willing to help form the curve – doing so from the Spirit-driven desire to remain in the continuity of the Apostolic faith.  Seminaries must take on an Ancient-Future stance if they are to be part of how the Church in this country moves forward.  I hope they hold the funeral for the CEO model of pastoring sooner, rather than later.  It’s already long over-due.

The Weakest Link

One of the great things about our region is that our regional pastor (rough translation, “A Bishop with severly limited powers, given that they herd cats for a living”) is big on spiritual development.  When I moved to the area he was starting up a mentoring program, akin to a spiritual confessor, called “Pastor to Pastor.”  I signed up immedately and Lee gave me some names of people to talk to, one of which has become a great friend and mentor, Frank Reeder.  Frank and I have been through a lot together, and have supported each other’s call through thick and thin – a true give and take friendship that I’m priviledged to be in.

Frank and I probe each other, and he asked me a question last week that struck me deeply, “What is the biggest obstacle to Central Baptist becomming genuinely healthy in the long-term?” (my paraphrase).  I didn’t even really need to think about the answer to the question, I wrestle with it every day.

You see, I’m the biggest obstacle to Central Baptist transitioning to long-term health and growth in the Gospel.

I don’t say that with a sense of despair, but as recognition that I have some transitioning to do myself.  You see, in all my years as a Christian I’ve never been near the leadership of a healthy church – one that was making disciples who are deep in the faith and bound together in community.  Every congregation that’s ever migrated me to “leadership” has been on the cusp of needing an emergency restart (one of them is, in fact, now closed).  So, while I’ve had lots of exposure to faithful pastors who keep loving people who actively try to tear them to pieces while they point to the narrow path of discipleship, I’m lacking in the examples of pastors who have been through the process of transition and come out on the other side nimble and ready to keep transitioning as they pursue Jesus with their congregation.

So that this means is that I’m really good at helping folks begin the process of understanding the nature of the Church differently, I really have few models from my personal background upon which to build in the wake of that rethinking process.  It’s this profound lack of models that led me to serve on the regional staff for ABCNJ, what Lee and the Staff are doing to bring some health to an unhealthy region was something that I wanted to witness close up so I could learn – even though it sucks up some time from my local pastoral responsibilities.

Everyone from the region who comes to Central for worship or another event has told me how much the congregation has changed – people appear to genuinely respect and have affection for one another, which has not always been the truth of the congregation over the last 25 years of so (with grave mistakes being made both by pastoral leadership and the congregation).  It’s good to hear that a transition has been noticed – it’s come with a lot of blood, sweat, and “conversations” with God.  Changing that portion of the culture, however, was easy compared to what needs to happen next.  That sense of trust and affection needs to be put to the test so that it emerges as a clearly articulated (and enacted) mission which a new structure that supports that clearly articulated direction.  This is the tack where I end up in uncharted waters.  Here be dragons, as the old saying go.

I honestly don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to pull it off.  Or, if you will, to be the vessel that is part of how Jesus pulls it off.  I look at my background and say, “I got nothin’.”  Of course that seems to be the very type of person that God often uses to pull off the seemingly impossible with next to nothing.  That fact doesn’t make it any less intimidating.

Now in saying all this I want to be perfectly clear, I am in no way feeling unsupported by the folks at Central Baptist Church.  This was the other part of the conversation Frank had with me last week.  Here’s how supported I feel at Central:

• I have at least one person who will get in my face and talk to me about how I’m doing
• I have a couple who are able to interact with my sermons with critiques which are not “theological muggings” (which invigorates me, by the way)
• I have more than a few who will come up and ask me, “What do you need us to do right now?”
• I have several others who are psyched about the things they are learning,and the impact they have on their lives
• I have people who have, over time, come to the conclusion that even though I’m not a “traditional pastor” I’m actually worth trusting and have their best interests for Christian spiritual growth in my heart.
• Even though I make up a good portion of our budge short-fall, I’ve had people (even from unexpected sources) tell me how much they want me to stick around.

So is everything roses?  Not at all.  We have conflict, disagreement, and struggles.  There are times where the congregation wants to strangle me and I want to whack them upside the head (probably with good reason on both counts) – but there is love, and i appreciate that fact.

What it comes down to is this.  Even though I’m woefully ill-equipped to be taking the journey I’m about to begin with Central, I’ll bank on that love which exists among the congregation as being an expression of Jesus’ love for us, and his desire for us to become who we need to be in this place, and at this time, for the glory of his Kingdom.  It’s just daunting to think that I probably have to change more than anyone – even as I’ve already changed more than just about anyone realizes.

“Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done….”

I’m starting a cult

Folks, I’m tired of being part of a religion that has people always telling me what to do and who to be.  I want more out of life than that.

That why I’m starting a cult where I get to tell people what to do and what do be.  No more dealing with pesky traditions, accountablity, or covenant community.  We’ll to it my way.

I’d like you to join the Cult of Wezlogy.  Key beliefs (subject to my whims, of course) will include:

• Mandatory tweets every 15 minutes:  I want to know where you are and what you can purchase as tribute to me.
• A Wii bowling average which exceeds 200, members of my cult must win the championship in the league next year.
• Members must all take a vow of poverty.  They are allowed two sets of cloths and a heated cardboard box to live in.  All over moneys can be directly deposited to my checking account, where I will spend it wisely.

I’m also considering offering several executive positions to people who are sufficienty geeky.  Send me your geek-cred to earn consideration.  All executives will earn a 10% cut of the tribute and are excluded from a vow of poverty to support an extravagent geek lifestyle.

I will not be resiging from my post as pastor of Central Baptist Church – but will be converting the congregation to Wezlology.

Long live the geeks, and happy April Fools day.

Why do we have “worship wars?”

At the moment I’m reading Her Heart Can See, a biography of Fanny Crosby.  The book plods along a big, but in the middle there is a wondeful discussion on the musical transition that took place during the mid-1800’s in Americal.  A movement began to improve congregational singing by moving away from traditional shape-note singing, and towards the European style of “scientific music.”  While there is always some discord in any transition, it seems that this shift in music was very nearly universally embraced by American society in general, and Evangelical religion in particular.  Reading through these chapters has left me wondering, “How did they manage such a radical transition without the acrimony of the ‘worship wars’ the plagued churches in the 1980’s and 1990’s?”  I now have a working hypothesis.

In all my reading of the early republic, I find that the mood of the American people was progressive and almost utopian.  Americans believed that they had emerged on the scene of history in order to inaugurate a new era for the human race.  Evangelical religion, taking it’s cue from the prevailing culture, took up this progressive understanding and was wildly optimistic about it’s ability to help shape a truly just and righteous society.  This utopian impulse led to a great many Evangelical projects – including public school, education for the blind, and general music education for all children.  The last was implemented because it was believed that musical education would work to enlighten children’s minds and souls for the task of being part of a great society.   Even the abolitionist movement took up the language of progress, calling upon America to fulfill it’s true calling.

It was that progressive mentality, then, which made the transition from shape-note singing possible in the mid 1800’s.  People believed in the progress of the American ideal, focused through Evangelical religion, and so any “progress” was generally embraced.

What was so different during the worship wars of the 1980’s and 1990’s?  Well, beginning in some ways with the civil war, the utopian and progressive mentality of America was gradually replaced with a pessimistic and dystopian outlook.  Two World Wars, Vietnam, and the threat of Atomic Annhilation left people worried about the future.  Popular culture began to take on this dystopian fear as well: the disaster movies of the 1970’s, movies like Blade Runner and The Terminator, and novels like Watchmen expressed people’s unease about the future.  Musical styles began to take on this pessimistic outlook as well – punk rock became the swing point for more dystopian vocal expression.

In this America, Evangelical religion became wildy conservative.  It’s not surprising – after all, if the future is a dystopian nightmare then it seems logical that the best way the Church can serve society would be to hold the line against the future.  To a conservative church fearful of a dystopian future, “progress” was a bad thing – the progressive hope of 1800’s Evangelical religion died under the threat of nuclear war.  This new conservative impulse drew the line against the dystopian future by enshrining what was seen at the high point of the 20th Century as the ideal – the 1950’s.  It didn’t matter that the 1950’s didn’t actually match the nostalgic memories of conservative churches (it’s amazing how no one ever mentions segregation, Korea, or Atomic Bomb drills when talking about the golden age) – that was where the line was drawn against the dystopian future.  A line drawn before the shift in musical styles had fully emerged.

Rock & Roll was considered part of the “progression” to the dystopian future – with the noble organ and piano being replaced by barbabic instruments like drums and guitars – and church memebers who wanted to bring in those instruments to worship, and a new style of singing, were not simply people with different styles and tastes – they were agents of chaos who would, in their ingnorance, help to bring about the dystopian future against which conservative Evangelical religion had drawn the line.

Why do we have worship wars?  It’s because the cultural fears of American Society continue to color the practice of the Church in America.  Just like the cultural hopes of American Society colored the practice of the Church in Americal during the mid 1800’s.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.