Church

(The bulk of this was written after our worship service Sunday evening)

As minister at a small church, my times of worship too often consist of running around.  I am solving problems, coordinating people, helping visitors, taking kids to the bathroom.  I often go an entire service without actually making it to my seat.  So when I get to slide in a row next to my wife and kids, it is a wonderful, if fleeting, moment.

Sunday I had such a moment.  Only I got way more than I expected.

As I found my wife in the crowd (in such moments it helps to be married to a tall redhead) and moved onto her row, here is what I noticed.

On the row in front of us were four people.  A young married couple, holding hands.  Looked like two people in love.  And they are.  But I also know that he has truly struggled with addiction.  And she recently got out of prison.

Next to them, a man I have known for years.  He is the definition of the working poor.  Sometimes dirty, always smelling of cigarettes.  He sits on the same row where he used to sit with his wife.  She died a year ago this week.  Seeing him reminds me that I need to announce that tomorrow night we are having a dinner and fundraiser to try to buy a headstone for her grave.

Beside him, an older gentlemen.  The oldest man in our church.  He can no longer see well enough to even read the bible.  But that’s okay.  He has accomplished the task of memorizing most, if not all of it.  He bounces and claps as we sing, he doesn’t have much rhythm.  But he moves anyway, as if his loss of eyesight has made him believe that no one can see him.  Oh, that’s not the truth.  He doesn’t care because He loves Jesus so much.

And underneath their chairs is my three-year old son.  He is playing with the little bitty cars he is earning for going in the potty.

This odd juxtaposition is not odd.  I see something close to it every week.  I am used to it.  But I don’t think I should be.  There are so many places on earth where this mix would not happen.  Sadly, one of those places can sometimes be church.  As I look, I should be in awe.  For what I am seeing is what church actually is.

You see, church is not the songs we sing and the prayers we pray.  Although it is that.  And church isn’t just the people who are there.  It is that too.  But it is more.  Church is the place where the mystery of God’s work in the world is glimpsed for a moment.  Where a song of praise and a recovering addict and communion and a half-blind man and a sermon and a little boy with his play cars all somehow seem perfectly harmonious.

We too often want so much from church.  Great music that moves us.  A sermon that is funny and heart-wrenching.  People that genuinely seem interested in us.  Classes for our kids that are exciting.  It may be a lot to ask, but that is what we are looking for.

But I think maybe, just maybe, we don’t want enough from church.  Music and sermons and children’s classes don’t seem to matter when we glimpse God at work. Because in the moment we notice God’s hand we see beyond what we want, into what we truly need.  The gospel.  Made real.  Made alive.  Among us.

I am not sure this can be replicated.  That a mission statement or staff meeting can make it happen.  It is only the work of God.  The love of Christ.  The guiding of the Spirit.  But Sunday, at least for a few minutes, I got to be along for the ride.  And I knew it.

So all I could do was look.  And sing.  I looked at an addict, an ex-con, a widower, a blind man, and a little boy.  And I sang.

I look at my son and at them.  And I sing.  Bless the Lord, O my soul, O my soul.  And I look at him and at them.  And I sing.  Worship his holy name.  And the couple in front of me raises their hands as one.  Sing like never before, O my soul.  And the old man is half-turned around, clapping off-beat and smiling at me.  I will worship your holy name.

 

The Death of Nuance

It is a rare ability.  In fact, it is becoming so rare that one might consider it almost a superpower.  It is the ability to see several sides to an issue, or see an issue from several different people’s points of view.  It is the ability to see black, white and also various shades of gray.  We will call this superpower…nuance.  And boy could we use some.

More and more it seems that the preferred way to make an argument is to bombastically declare your position, and then belittle anyone who would think differently.  Republicans and Democrats are the place where perhaps it is most obvious to us.  But it is everywhere.  The problem is 100% the Israelis, no it is 100% the Palestinians.  Gun control is THE answer.  Gun control is NO answer.  How dare Hobby Lobby, they give Christians an evil name.  How dare you bash other Christians trying to stand up for what they believe.

Why would this be?  Are all issues simply matters of black and white, good or bad?  Is it that you are 100% wrong or 100% right?  Is there not a place for a little more nuance in our disagreements?

Perhaps the modern age in which we live is a contributing factor to the disappearance of nuance.  140 characters on Twitter doesn’t leave much space for looking at various sides of an issue.  But it is perfect for throwing a bomb.  Blog posts with titles like “The Various Levels of the Hobby Lobby Case and Why There Is No Absolute Here” would probably not be clicked on very often.   Looking at too many possibilities makes for a long patch of writing that many people won’t work their way through.  Making a one-sided argument is much quicker.

Plus, it is much more comforting to believe that my way of seeing things in any particular arena is so obviously the best way to see things.  Since I am right, I don’t mind painting you into a corner.  Let me give an example.

Just recently I have read more than one blog post entitled something like “The Ten Things You Cannot Do About ________ and Follow Jesus.” (Apparently people like to steal title ideas)  While posts such as these are provocative and get our attention, think about what they are declaring.  If I disagree with anything in the post, then I am not following Jesus.  And if I am not following Jesus, then obviously anything I have to say on the topic should be dismissed.

And there is the rub.  By avoiding nuance it allows us to completely dismiss any opinion that doesn’t match with our own.  So we say that people are racist, or homophobic, or ignorant if they don’t agree.  And then we don’t have to listen to their argument because they are racist, homophobic or ignorant.  Very convenient.

Now please hear me.  I am not saying don’t stand up for what you believe.  There are no absolutes.  There is never a time or place to have a forceful opinion.  What I am saying is that far too often we dismiss ideas and people because we are unwilling to see any possibility outside of the one in our own head.

So, here are a few ideas for getting a little nuance back in our lives.

1.  Recognize that someone can disagree with me without being _____________ . (You fill in the word)  Someone can believe that gay sex is a sin without being homophobic.  Someone can believe that gay people should have the right to marry and still think gay sex is a sin.  Just because you don’t have the same view of welfare as I do doesn’t mean you are an uncompassionate, selfish jerk.

2.  Stop using pejoratives.  As soon as we call someone a name, we are saying that the argument is over.  Why should I listen to someone who is ignorant or racist?  So drop that kind of language.  Homophobe, racist, ignorant, even words like conservative or liberal (when used as pejoratives) should be out-of-bounds if our goal is to have a learning and growing experience.

3.  Get out of your comfort zone.  The beauty of the modern age is that we have access to so much information, and so many possibilities for contact with people who view the world differently.  However, the truth is that many of us run to the same exact sources, people, blogs, etc… again and again.  We are much more comfortable hearing what we already think.  Only by looking at a broad range of thoughts and ideas can we both find some nuance and see past ideas to people.

Now, some might wonder why this matters to a preacher.  I live in the world of right and wrong, of good and evil.  And that is true.  But far too often I have witnessed people, good people, church people, unwilling to even listen to another person.  This isn’t just about (or even primarily about) politics or church matters.  I am talking about husbands unwilling to even consider a little bit of nuance with their wives.  Or a parent refusing to listen to their children because the parent already knows they are right.

But just the idea that their might be the possibility of an ounce of nuance forces us to listen.  And listening is the starting point for understanding.  I don’t mind so much that you disagree with me if you take the time to first understand me.  I am not liberal or conservative or well-informed or ignorant.  I am all those things and so much more.  I am nuanced. Shouldn’t our conversations match who we are?

 

Marriage, Death, and Ministers

A month ago I had a completely new experience as a minister.  I performed a wedding and a funeral on the same weekend.  For the same family.  The mix of emotions, the joy and grief, was overwhelming for the family, and exhausting for me.  But, that is my job, my role, my gift in this community.

Over the years I have had the privilege of performing lots of weddings.  That’s what happens when you live in a town with three universities.  Young people come to school, find their partner, and I get to be a small part of that journey.  It is one of my truly favorite things to do.

I have also done my fair share of funerals.  Most of these have been older people.  Grandmothers and grandfathers.  But far too many have been young.  Babies or young adults cut down well before their time.  While it is always difficult, every funeral I am asked to perform is a great honor.

When I was seventeen and made the decision to become a minister, these moments were not what I imagined I would be doing.  I would preach and teach.  I would study.  I would guide people and give wise counsel.  I would lead a congregation in doing great works for the kingdom.

But, a lot of my time is spent on other things.  Hospital visits.  Planning weddings.  Driving people to the doctor.  Visiting with those who have lost a loved one.  Taking people to job interviews.  Listening to people about their health issues.  Giving rides to and from church events.  Working through people’s financial struggles.

I am a talker, but I spend much more time listening than I thought I would.  I am a doer.  But I spend much more time just sitting with people than I thought I would.  I am a dreamer.  But most of my days are spent dealing with the harsh realities of life, rather than dreaming grand visions for the church.

In our age of professionalism, I know many ministers who spend their days studying and preparing.  That is what their church has asked them to do.  To spend their time almost completely on lesson preparation and congregational direction.  If I am honest, there are moments when I am jealous.

But, I can’t imagine spending my time working for the church, and yet most of that time not spent with the church.  And not simply because part of being a minister is sharing life with people.  I think lessons and sermons and counsel suffer when these activities are not consistently a part of what I do.

Sermons are born out of hospital rooms as much as they are out of study.  Wisdom comes from walking with people through financial difficulties as much as it comes from a book.  Leading a church is as much about how we serve and love as it is what we say and the programs we start.

Too often I can forget what an honor it is for people to share the most intimate and difficult parts of their lives with me.  I am often invited in as the only non-family member.  I see the tears, hear the cries of anguish, witness the leaps of faith.  I am there as a symbol of God’s presence, but it is usually my heart and faith that are uplifted.

Whenever I have the opportunity to speak to a young man or woman who is studying to be a minister, I make sure and describe the job completely.  They need to know that along with the preaching and teaching there are late nights in hospital rooms and phone calls where you have truly have no good advice to share.  I do this not to discourage them. Nor do I tell them because it is the truth.  I do it so they can know the full beauty and amazing grace of the life they are choosing.