The Complications of Communication

Yesterday I spent a good part of the day participating in an online discussion, trying to sort out what appeared to be a miscommunication through the halls of Facebook. A post appeared within a Facebook group, other members of the group reacted while others tried to ask helpful questions. The “conversation” escalated into paranoia at times, and without any more substantive information to feed it, speculation took over. I finally called the original poster (is that a word?) to clarify the genesis of the issue that had come to light, and by day’s end it appeared resolution was around the corner. But wow, it was a time-consuming and upsetting affair for some.

So this morning, I brought up the general topic of communication with the Peet’s conversation group, and noted how unusual it is for such a group to get together face-to-face on a regular basis, without an agenda, to listen and encourage one another. This is really what the gym rats are doing, and it is a beautiful thing.

So beautiful, in fact, that this morning a store patron stopped at our table and said, “I’ve seen you here two days in a row, and I just have to tell you, my mother met with a coffee shop group daily for decades.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and the group immediately pulled up a chair for her and invited her to sit with us. We drew out her story: her mother, who died just a few years ago in her mid-90’s, formed lasting and deep friendships in her small town. She sounded like quite a woman, active in her community, involved at school, encouraging of the next generation. She tapped into the social network of a town, but never did she gossip, L said. She was present and available, and her daughter misses her very much.

The two situations I have just described illustrate the complicated challenge we have as 21st century western citizens. Communication has taken new forms, increased to lightning speed, and depersonalized in some venues. Information can be passed quickly, but feelings can derail in the process of transmission. So much depends on the actual words, without the supporting evidence of gestures, inflection, or facial expressions. [And people can be particularly clumsy with their words.] The personal touch is remarkably important to getting a message across, and yet we live in an age in which “touch” has become a FB “poke,” and “personal” is masked by a User ID or fantasy-land avatar.

A recurring discussion question has arisen periodically in the Christian church: “What if Jesus’ ‘fullness of time’ had been the 21st century instead of the 1st century?” How would Jesus have communicated the arrival of the Kingdom of God and taught his lessons on discipleship if he had come this year instead of ~29 ad?

I think Jesus would have done this year exactly what he did then: he would have looked people in the eye, addressed their particular concerns, and demonstrated the good news in his actions on their behalf. I think there would be plenty of pictures posted on Facebook of healed persons, YouTube videos of the lame now walking, and perhaps wall-to-wall coverage of Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. But Jesus himself would probably not be posting or tweeting, preferring to give people his full, personal attention, discern their needs, address their questions, and respond to the raised eyebrow or frowning visage. Even back then, Jesus was unconcerned with reaching “the whole world” himself. His disciples would be commissioned to do so later, instructed to “make disciples of all nations by baptizing and teaching them.” Jesus’ method was to exert the maximum impact in tailor-made fashion, investing in the lives of a few, and yes, talking to crowds on occasion but always following up with personal encounters.

It is for this reason that I think the Church must rethink its methods of communication. Sure, a church website is a great, efficient way to give notice of upcoming events and distribute registration forms. But for too long, the Presbyterians and Lutherans I know from personal experience have relied on a detached method of sharing the gospel, believing that attracting people to church accomplishes that. I am not so sure anymore that this is the best approach. It may be time to mingle at the coffee shop, notice the tears welling, pull up a chair, and just listen with empathy. When we interact with people at this level, the opportunities to share Christ’s love and his gospel can’t help but surface. I experience this dynamic just about every time I join my gym ladies with my decaf sugar-free mocha, non-fat, no whip: a meaty question, a significant problem, an appeal for insight comes bubbling to the surface. These are the teachable moments in which an informative conversation can make the difference between chaos and meaning, sorrow and joy, confusion and clarity, or falsehood and truth. And it is very good to be there to see their faces, to be welcomed, and to love their idiosyncrasies even while hearing all about the life they are experiencing in this bewildering 21st century.

 

Why Do People Do What They Do?

A couple times a week I join a few fellow “gym rats” for coffee at the local Peet’s. This group of women frequents the fitness center and then gathers for a coffee klatch before heading home. They come from diverse backgrounds culturally and geographically and represent the gamut of religious views, from lapsed Christian to Sihk to Jewish to complete blank slate. Every once in awhile, one of them will turn to me for advice, knowing I am a pastor. Lately, however, there has been a communal handwringing over recent events. When the bombs went off in Boston, the questions came again:

“Why do people do what they do?” The related questions tumble out: Why can’t people show more love for one another? What moves people to do such horrible things? Why do people not value human life more than this?

I bite my tongue a lot, until I get the divine go-ahead to offer an answer. It’s all part of the missional teaching (or informative conversation) ministry I am practicing and writing about. When “total depravity” is the answer that first pops into my mind, it takes a bit of skill and courage to ease into those churning waters with something meaningful and helpful.

People in the Reformed Tradition attribute the concept of total depravity to John Calvin’s followers in the 16th century. The idea is that human beings are thoroughly tainted by sin; that is, there is no part of human life that has not in some way been marred by the sin of Adam and Eve (cf. Genesis 6:5). I think it was Augustine who spoke of this inherited trait in terms we would now refer to as gene mutation. So every human being has a gene called “sin” which, if dominant, urges that person on to all manner of evils. We should not be surprised that people are capable of terrorist acts. Along with C. S. Lewis, we should probably be asking why there isn’t more unmasked evil in the world than there is.

Let’s see how far we can go with the genetic analogy. What if we were to see salvation in Jesus Christ as the first step in divine gene therapy? Acknowledging there is still “the flesh” to contend with in this life (Romans 7), wouldn’t our new situation in Christ be like a dominant sin gene engineered into a recessive gene (still there, but not overtly expressed in everyday life)? And our final sanctification/ glorification—once this body has died—is represented by a gene transplant?  [I know my readers will hack away at the analogy, but stay with me for a minute.]

For those in whom Sin is still the dominant gene, anything is possible, according to Calvin. Living according to the flesh brings death; living in the Spirit brings life. Society can make laws, remain vigilant to restrain evil, and educate people; but none of these laudable activities addresses the root problem, which is the condition of the human soul without Jesus Christ. Any solution to the problems our society faces are going to have to include a genuine grappling with God’s salvation offered in Jesus Christ. This prophetic and pastoral role is the unique and essential activity of the Church. If we seek to know Christ and to make him known and to submit as the Body of Christ to the will and way of the Head, we will have a transforming effect in the world.

However, in a post-Christian western world, I have seen signs that the Presbyterian Church has loosened its grip on the transforming gospel. Many Presbyterians see salvation not as a life-and-death matter, but only one of preference. If we really believed that Jesus Christ has the power to change what people do (and why) and if we personally experienced that transforming power in daily life, I think the situation would be different. But our witness to the world is weak and ineffective, precisely because we have traded in God’s Word and Way for an ear-tickling false gospel that says “Do what you want; God will bless it.” We should not be surprised at all, in that environment, if radical _____ists do anything extreme, for it is the same spiritual condition working itself out into behavior contrary to God’s will and ultimately destructive of human life.

What If God Were Watching?

This past weekend I had the joy and privilege of speaking five times for a church’s family camp at Mount Hermon. The topic was “Hearing the Voice of Jesus,” and my objective was to demystify the mystical, if you will. If God is alive and active, then surely God continues to communicate with his people. Prayer, after all, is not monologue but dialogue. The question is, How does God “speak,” what is he saying, and how do we know it’s God? I relied heavily on two favorite books: The Voice of Jesus by Gordon T. Smith and Hearing God by Dallas Willard. After an invitation on Friday night to take time to listen, on Saturday and Sunday I addressed God’s word of direction, correction, election, resurrection, and affection (and I’m pretty proud of the rhyme, too!—Once a preacher, always a preacher). My overarching framework came from Psalm 139, and it is from this text I make some new observations today, in light of recent national events.

The news is still dominated by the Boston marathon bombings, of course. Such a scary and damaging event for that fine city. And now, locally, the talk turns to how to secure San Francisco against such an attack when the Bay to Breakers race is held here next month. In a newspaper article this morning, San Francisco police chief Greg Suhr publicizes his request for “more security cameras along Market Street.” The purpose for these would be to enhance real-time surveillance, have a record to go back on if anything happens, and, presumably provide a deterrent against crime.

In that context, I am comforted and informed by Psalm 139:1-2:

1          O LORD, you have searched me and known me.
2          You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
                       you discern my thoughts from far away.
3          You search out my path and my lying down,
                       and are acquainted with all my ways.

 God always knows what is going on. God can see everything and process it in no time. God can do what humans wish they could: be everywhere at once and know even what people are thinking. God is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent. The problem is that we mere mortals possess none of those attributes, and yet, after Boston we are compelled to erect the Babel-like structure to deters terrorists.

I have no real objection to the installation of surveillance cameras, because I have nothing to hide. There are genuine constitutional concerns, for sure, but this is not my issue. My question revolves around the need to have someone—a person—watching. We are in this sad state because people have lost the sense or the belief that God is watching and they are accountable to him. Where I live, it is estimated that 93% of the population has no regular contact with a religious setting. The generation of young adults now entering society has had no exposure to Christian themes throughout their schooling. Their ethical (not “moral”) training has been based on the concept of mutual respect, but there is nothing to stop them—or the rest of society—from establishing a me-first attitude, attention-grabbing behaviors, even violent “strategies” to accomplish their goals.

Have Presbyterians added to this mindset that has corroded the morals of our society? Yes, indeed, by making or implying the following statements in recent years:

• we do not have reliable moral guidance from the Scriptures or our Confessions

• it is nobody’s business what a church officer does in his private life

• the individual conscience is sacrosanct, whether shaped by Scripture or misguided by worldly principles; nobody can tell me I am wrong

• the Presbyterian-defining church discipline of past generations has lost its teeth, and nothing in a moral or doctrinal category is enforceable now. [I know this reaches a little far, for someone somewhere can make sexual misconduct charges stick, but not because they are violations of biblical law but merely breaches of civil law.]

Unfortunately, some Presbyterians (a minority, who now rule the roost) have even said God blesses what the church has long held as immoral behavior. With such a false claim embedded now in church systems, people are being deceived, bad examples are confusing our children, and society cannot see the difference between a redeemed and obedient life and the moral climate the world now tolerates.

But God is watching. When we are listening to him, we can hear his breath flutter when we entertain a lustful or wayward thought. When we are in tune with his will and ways, we see yellow flags before they become red and steer clear. When we welcome God’s scrutiny, we can confess the wayward thoughts before they become immoral actions. How I pray that our neighbors can experience the joy of that kind of protection! How I desire for people to know God’s love for them and submit to his gracious discipline!

How can the church make an impact that reduces crime, keeps people safe, and unites communities around goodness and non-violence? Food for thought!

The Deafening Silence of Disengagement

Friends of “Bringing the Word to Life,” I submitted the following letter to Presbyweb in response to a letter to the editor by Mike Garrett. I believe the fray is going to start up again, and commend to you as a catalyst a very thoughtful and well-written “prophetic word” by Jim Goodloe, found here.

Dear Presbyweb,

In response to Mike Garrett’s letter which observed the “deafening silence of disengagement,” I want to agree and to explain further.

As one who has contributed to the debates in the last several years and lately by blog, I can acknowledge the truth of his observation in my own experience. There are a few factors contributing to, for instance, my rather sporadic blog coverage of PCUSA matters lately:

1. The Presbyterian decision-making process is rigged, and thoughtful discourse has nowhere to go to make a difference. I have read the most reasoned and helpfully clarifying pieces by colleagues, directed both to GAPJC and the General Assembly, but they get nowhere because decision-makers choose to remain so open-minded that their brains fall out. What we have going now is not debate based on Scripture and reason but on emotion, experience, and a worldly view of unlimited personal rights. Interjecting a voice of common sense and Scriptural sanity, for the moment, is an exercise in repetitive head-banging with no appreciable result.

2. I struggle with soul-care in the midst of the fray. Topics and discussions that have the ongoing effect of raised blood-pressure, sleep deprivation, and a constantly critical attitude are not good for my spirit. I am still learning how to stay in the discussion with eyes on Jesus without sinking into Galilee’s waters.

3. Who is the audience? Those a theological conservative like myself might encourage to action are opting for alternative ways of being Presbyterian, either by sheltering in place or dismissing to other denominations. Those to whom truth must be spoken are not listening, or if they are, they are patronizing and even, at times, abusive in response. The role of the prophet within and to the PCUSA is not acknowledged or respected because the church has lost sight of what constitutes the Word of God. So what else is new?

4. So the question of engagement, for me, boils down to call and empowerment by God. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” It is a costly business to put oneself out there with a counter-cultural view, and there have been times and seasons when I have given this service willingly and even joyfully. But now more than ever there is little personal support holding up the arms of a prophet. To answer this challenge, I have tried to balance draining “engagement” work with projects that are spiritually uplifting. In the last few months, I have collaborated on a curriculum for study of the Essential Tenets, reviewed the five-part The Bible series, and now am preparing to speak at a congregation’s all-church retreat. Three books await the daily discipline of personal engagement. This all takes time, which I have in only finite quantity, and the choice about how to spend it is sometimes torture. If, in those daily dilemmas, comments 1, 2, and 3 above seem particularly strong, then “Presbyterian stuff” goes to the bottom of my things-to-do list.

But don’t worry; I’ll be back soon enough. And others will be right there alongside me to try again to help our denomination listen to Scripture and reason. Until then, I remain

Christ’s servant and your friend,
(The Rev. Dr.) Mary Holder Naegeli
Walnut Creek, California

Good Friday and the Shedding of Blood

Today I gave blood. I do this each year as an intentional expression of my Christian faith and gratitude for what Jesus did for me. I sat in a comfy chair in a clean, safe environment. The procedure did not hurt. The company was congenial. And when I had deposited my pint, I was bandaged, fed, and sent home to take it easy for a few hours.

I give blood on Good Friday as a spiritual discipline and an opportunity for contemplation.  I was quite conscious of the fact that the conditions under which Jesus gave his blood for all of humanity were completely unlike mine.

Jesus’ own spiritual discipline and contemplation prior to the Passion had reinforced his security in the care of his heavenly Father.  Though he agonized in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to Judas’ betrayal, he chose to give blood for the salvation of all humankind as the fulfillment of the Father’s promised care for us. In the process, he was abused physically and psychologically. He was not fed during his ordeal; betrayed by a friend and falsely accused by his countrymen, he was whipped and spat upon, crowned with thorns and mocked by Roman soldiers. No one offered solace, according to biblical accounts, though the fourteen Stations of the Cross imagine the ministrations of comforting women along the way. When Jesus faltered on the Via Dolorosa, Simon of Cyrene was enlisted to relieve him of the cross for a short respite. By the time the actual crucifixion took place, Jesus was a physical wreck.

But only then was his blood fully spilled.  And he did this for us, offering himself willingly as the atoning sacrifice for our sin. “Without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness of sins” (Hebrews 9:22).

The nurses today at the blood donation center were quite eager for me to donate, for the need is great. Their attitude reminded me of the urgency the Church should maintain in sharing the story of Christ with the unchurched and the unreached. Presbyterians rarely articulate the urgency of evangelism, and certainly not in terms of Christ’s shed blood, more along the line of “new congregations.” Our responsibility is so much more than programmatic. When will we feel the urgency to pour ourselves out for the lost and independent people around us, so that they, too, can live in the security of the Father’s love and care? At what level must we encounter people in order to appreciate the darkness they walk in or the confusion that disorients them? How willing are we to enter their world with the urgent grace of Christ’s gospel?

These are the things I thought about as I gave blood today.

 

 

Pope Francis and a New Reformation?

When a friend posted on Facebook “White smoke!” I turned on the television today and wrapped myself in the NBC coverage of the announcement of the new Catholic pope. As a cradle Catholic (who changed lanes into the Presbyterian church at age 22), I have witnessed the election of five popes in my lifetime. Experience as a Presbyterian pastor, leadership of a session, and organizational executive roles have given me only an inkling of the burden this man will bear as leader of over 1 billion souls worldwide. If that thought is staggering to lowly me, imagine how the question of “Who is up to the task?” burned in the corporate soul of those 115 cardinals called to discern God’s will in the matter.

Their announcement of Jorge Mario Bergoglio, of Buenos Aires, as the next pope sent several electrifying messages to the world:

• Age—76. Pope Francis, as he will be known, was not bypassed because of his age, though the predictors gave him no chance. Some think Pope Francis is too old to make much of an impact on world Catholicism. But hear this: All the 76-year-old pope has to do is call a Third Vatican Council, and the door is wide open for a transparent dialogue and true reformation of the global church, in authentic Franciscan tradition. I for one will pray for just such an invitation.

• Nationality—Argentinian. Son of Italian immigrants to South America, his background offers a reassuring link to Italy (for traditionalists) but a distance from the Roman mess (for reformers). His humor was apparent as he greeted the crowd today: “They [the cardinals] had to go to the ends of the world to find the new bishop of Rome.” The first pope from Latin America celebrates the reality that 37% of the world’s Catholics are Latino. He may be an outsider to Rome, but there is great potential for a global embrace of his papacy simply from ethnic affinity.

• His Name—Francis. After the twelfth-century saint from Assisi, Pope Francis is no doubt signaling a desire to live a simple life, which he has demonstrated as an archbishop and cardinal. But I think even more significant is an affinity with God’s specific call in St. Francis’ life. Abuses of power, off-center theology, and material excesses were already in evidence in northern Italy by his time. In prayer one day, Francis heard God speak to him unmistakably: “Rebuild/reform my church.” And that is what he set out to do. You may consider Francis socially inept or psychologically wacko—he most certainly was unusual in his methods—but there is no doubt in my mind that Francis sparked an authentic and influential renewal movement in the Late Middle Ages. The new pope may well surprise us with his bold initiative to think outside the Vatican box and spark a revival and much needed reform within the institutional church.

• His Order—Jesuit. The Jesuits are as close to an autonomous organization within the Catholic Church as they come: noted for placing a high value on education, theological boldness, and independence, the Jesuits have never produced a pope until now. Doctrinally orthodox—no wandering Jesuit is Borgoglio—yet part of an order that sometimes pushes the envelope in theological discourse, Francis brings something new to the table. I would imagine a few Curia types (institutional preservationists) might be wondering if he is going to be a bull in a china shop. But everybody says he is “gentle.”

• His Spirit—Humble. His reaction during the announcing ceremony today was astonishing for its serenity, gentle humor, deep humility, and reference to his new role as “bishop of Rome,” not “pope.” I know they are one and the same thing, but he referred to himself only as “the bishop,” bowed low to receive the prayers of the crowd for him, and wanted to express his commitment to the flock right there in the Eternal City. There was not one ounce of grandiosity or ego evident today.

• His Vision—Think Global, Act Local. Francis expressed the desire to evangelize the city of Rome. This guy is firmly planted and passionate about the gospel. He understands that in order for the Vatican to reach the world, it must reach its neighborhood first. If that isn’t “missional,” I don’t know what is.

The over-80 cardinal Edward Egan offered NBC commentary prior to the pope’s election, on five qualities this person would need in order to be effective:

1. A deep, abiding life of prayer, both in private and in public.

2. A passion to articulate the gospel in an uncomplicated manner.

3. Leadership in the worldwide quest for justice, compassion, and peace.

4. The ability to govern firmly and manage a complex organization.

5. A thick skin, an ability to hear and handle criticism without losing his confidence or vision.

These qualities ring true to me and represent a very tall order only God can fill. So we must all pray for this pope, regardless of our denominational affiliation, simply because he is one of the most visible Christians in the world today. May God grant Pope Francis favor with his people, spiritual protection, ongoing virtue, and a bold gospel witness. For the global church, let us plead, “Lord, clean our house and reform our ways!” Beyond the church, let us pray, “Lord, may the world hear the gospel through this man and turn to Jesus Christ!” All things are possible with God, even a new Reformation led by a pope.

 

Can the PC(USA) Really Change?

Last Sunday night, my husband and I hosted a black-tie five-course dinner for eleven other friends in our home. The occasion was the finale of Season Three of Downton Abbey, giving us the opportunity to live a brief fantasy of British aristocracy. The purpose of the evening was to enjoy the company of friends, have a luscious meal served to us (the thirteenth person, by prior arrangement, was our footman—and a fine one he was indeed), and discuss the characters and plot lines of the British television series. [May I just say, in a moment of personal privilege, that the program’s tragic ending ruined the mood of my dinner party…but I digress.]

A couple of the guests were barely conversant on the arc of the story, so we reviewed Seasons One, Two, and Three in the sort of detail only a group brainstorming session can conjure. Then we asked, “What secrets were held by whom?” which gave us an opportunity to delve into the motivations of each character, starting with the Crawleys upstairs and concluding with the servants downstairs. We had to ask, “Where is the vicar when he is needed?” and “What role is faith playing in the life and plot of these people?” and the Jesus question, “With whom are you willing to have dinner?” 

But the most important question, in my mind, was whether or not a person who had fallen from grace could experience personal transformation and be restored socially. Though applied unevenly, it turns out, the operating principle at Downton Abbey seemed to be, “Once a sinner, always shunned.” Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter comes to mind. And yet, the hopelessness of that answer chafed at least a couple of the characters into giving Ethyl another chance at a respectable life and Thomas a compassionate reprieve.

It is a matter of Christian faith that the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ is powerful and able to reach the hearts and minds of the wayward, turn them around, and save them from the consequences of their sin. We profess this, though I think our culture is cautious about certain types of sinners and would seem to prefer cities of refuge to a return to respectable society. That topic, though interesting, is beyond my pay-grade today.

But what about the church itself? I have intimated many times in the last eighteen months that the PC(USA) has gone a bit haywire theologically and ethically and is losing its way. Is it possible for the organization, the institution, to repent corporately and receive as a body the forgiveness, demonstrate the repentance, and live a new life as a result of the saving work of Christ on the Cross? Is it necessary for its members to do the same individually in order for the body to experience the transforming power of our Savior? Evangelicals probably feel more comfortable with the second, individualized, movement taking priority, but the first, corporate, movement should not be discounted in value or dismissed as unrealistic. There have been seasons, perhaps even in your congregation, where under the leadership of a new pastor or executive director or pope, when a body changed its tone and refocused its attention on the essentials of faith and practice.

The Catholic Church is presented with such a moment in the unusual transition of leadership in its immediate future. I have greatly admired Pope Benedict XVI, and appreciate the courage of his choice of downward mobility. TIME Magazine, in this week’s cover story entitled “Second Act: How Benedict XVI may become more influential after his resignation,” reflects on what Benedict was able and not able to accomplish during his tenure:

Benedict’s successor will inherit a long list of problems. The wounds from the priest sexual-molestation scandals are deep, and it may take generations to win back once fervently Catholic nations like Ireland. While Benedict did more than John Paul II to try to make amends for the crimes, he was too much a part of the compromised bureaucracy to truly cleanse the organization. (Vol. 181, No. 7, p. 21).

The Catholic Church is not unique among religious institutions in its suffering from corruption, immorality, and power-brokering. If one with as much authority as the Pope is unable to transform one church, we must all throw ourselves upon the mercy of God and plead for his transforming power to work miracles in and among us. Our only recourse is to cooperate with the refining fire of God’s Spirit and submit to the discipline required to set us on the right track again. We must pray for our leaders to make this submission visible, and pray that God would start with us. The PC(USA) can change, but only if we truly repent individually and corporately of our disobedience, recommit ourselves to God’s Word in faith and action, and take the painful steps of repentance to unlink our structures from worldly ways and means. And then perhaps we can hope that our witness to a hurting world can be strengthened and those like myself—who have been scandalized by the behavior and message of so many within our tribe—can rejoice and welcome a transformed PC(USA) into our hearts and around our table again.

The Skeleton in the PC(USA) Closet Is a Woman

The WQ (“women’s question”) remains one of the most elusive and baffling aspects of ministry, even within a mainline denomination such as the PC(USA). The WQ has been a part of my life-long learning process since the 1970’s, when I felt a strong call to the ministry but believed the Bible prevented me from aspiring to pastoral leadership. Since then, and with the help of marvelous evangelical scholars, I’ve explored the WQ biblically, theologically, organizationally, and personally. And now, as a PC(USA) teaching elder ordained for over 25 years, I face the WQ from a different angle. The current question revolves around whether women can make good, even great, senior ministers of larger-than-average congregations.

Last August I posted a few essays on what the New Testament has to say about women in the ministry. In a post last week I stated that factors having nothing to do with my gifts were preventing me from getting a pastoral call in the PC(USA). Based on conversations since then, I believe it is time to reveal the skeleton in the PC(USA) closet: well-qualified women are not being called to senior pastor positions in multi-staff churches.

I have no statistics at hand, and I know there are a few exceptions, most notably the Rev. Christine Chakoian at Lake Forest and the recent call of the Rev. Dr. Agnes Norfleet to a 2600 member church in Bryn Mawr, PA. But by and large, what I have experienced and observed in the last ten years is this:

1. The “golden demographic” for senior leaders, pastors of large churches, is male, age 45 or under, and married with school-age kids at home. These guys seem able to move from call to call without any trouble, and sometimes with multiple options to choose from. Large churches are willing to take huge risks calling a relatively inexperienced, but young and energetic, male as a first-time senior pastor.

2. If you are female, being an associate at a large church, even being executive pastor of a large church, does not seem to “count” as qualifying experience for a senior pastor position. But it does if you are a man.

3. Even in a system that might favor pastors with previous senior-pastor experience in a similarly sized church, that system automatically eliminates female pastors from serious consideration because of the Catch-22 involved.

4. Nevertheless, in order to satisfy presbytery EOE guidelines, Pastor Nominating Committees (PNC) continue to interview female candidates without ever seriously considering them. I have been tempted to charge churches for my time and effort in preparation for these for-show-only interviews.

5. For evangelical women, the situation is even more one-sided. “Evangelical/conservative clergy woman” is often an oxymoron for those churches in which I, for one, would otherwise feel the theological fit is perfect. And I am too conservative for the so-called progressive churches that would be more likely to call a woman.

6. The denominational structures and policies of the PC(USA) have given women every chance, and for this reason I do not think it is the PC(USA) itself that is the roadblock to female senior leadership.  In my experience, it is the male elders on PNCs who approach their pastor-seeking task as a business executive search. A disproportionately large number of older, often retired, businessmen populate PNCs, and my experience of them is a latent sexism typical of their generation, and they would never overtly admit it exists. But it stacks the deck as to the questions they ask, how they perceive one’s ministry track record, and what they think is required for the job of senior pastor. To call it out into the open is to close the door of opportunity with that church.

I share my thoughts on this subject not because I am bitter, which I am not. I have had plenty of conversations with God over the years as I have felt the futility of the pastoral search. But as I stated last week, God is in charge of my “career,” and I am in charge of my responses to God alone. I am grateful for the two stretching and faith-building pastorates I have held and trust that nothing of my past experience will be wasted in my future. I am also grateful for dozens, if not hundreds, of male clergy colleagues who have welcomed my partnerships in projects through the years. But among them, the pastors of large churches have not equipped their elders to recognize and call women into senior leadership behind them. The church at large and all those PNCs currently looking for a senior pastor are squandering the gifts and talents of many, many women clergy. This reality makes me unspeakably sad. ECO has a great opportunity to right this wrong at all levels of its organization, after all it has gone through to say that women serve on parity with men. But its short track record in this regard is not hopeful, and I fear that the matter will be even worse in that setting than it is in the PC(USA). Please, ECO, prove me wrong!

Downward Mobility Gets Personal

Ash Wednesday is as good a day as any to reflect on what God is doing in one’s life, and anything that tends toward “examination of conscience” is particularly fitting during Lent. Lent for some is seen as a period of self-imposed “downward mobility” during which one denies oneself in order to follow Christ. This concept is taking on new meaning for me, as I examine the contours of my life and Christian service with an eye to reshaping my ministry life.  Since it has been awhile since my last blog, and inertia must be overcome, today I am going to share some random thoughts that may perhaps point the way for a more sustained reflection in the next few days. [I’ve recently learned never to promise a blog “tomorrow,” because life has been a little unpredictable lately, and tomorrow turns into “next month.”]

I attended the Orlando meeting of Fellowship of Presbyterians (FOP) and ECO two weeks ago, and was gratified that several of my readers went out of their way to affirm Bringing the Word to Life and thank me for helping them sort through issues. You must know how much these greetings blessed me, and I want to extend my gratitude to every one of you who put your name to a face.  Thank you for reading my posts. I trust that you will use my blog for God’s glory and Kingdom purposes whenever a topic touches on something going on with you or your church.

My reflections today do not fall into any PC(USA) category, and maybe that is part of the news of this post. I am finding so much of what is going on—or not going on—in the denomination to be of little consequence to me, irrelevant to my call, and admittedly boring. This does not mean that I am beyond grieving for the Presbyterian church or that I am out of touch. Rather, it is my perception that we are in a slow leftward drift following a 2012 Tipping Point, and there is not much that can be done to change that direction. And I am tired of talking about it. I have spoken my piece in the last eighteen months, and harping on old themes just doesn’t feel helpful right now.

Nevertheless, I feel called to write, and this blog is a daily discipline of reflection that allows me to test out ideas and learn from the comments that come my way. The Word always needs to be brought to life, so I want to continue to encourage your faith in our gracious Savior and his Word written. Probably less and less of it will relate specifically to the Presbyterian church, but you know that I am coming from a Reformed perspective, just trying to teach the faith and spur us all on to love and good works (Hebrews 10:25).

It would seem that God has been channeling me into a writing track for several months now.  My role as an adjunct instructor for Fuller Northern California has diminished to almost nothing, due to policy and curriculum changes at the seminary. The Coalition leadership is on hiatus for a year, between Assemblies, though I remain Moderator of a small board. Every indication at both the local and national level is that I am an unsuitable candidate for pastoral ministry—lots of reasons for that conclusion, that have nothing to do with my gifts, abilities, energy, or passion for the gospel. I worked most of autumn on DOORWAYS: Study Guide for the Essential Tenets, which was finally put online two weeks ago by FOP but was downplayed at the Orlando gathering in favor of “The French Confession” (and Joe Small’s excellent introductory talk on the subject). So I do not think there is an ongoing role for me in the either the new denomination or the Fellowship.

What remains on my plate is a quarter-time parish associate position (they call me “teaching pastor”) at a large ELCA Lutheran church in my neighborhood. I preach every few weeks, teach weekly, preside at Communion every Sunday, and am on call for pastoral care needs. This has been a fantastic blessing all around, but it too will end when the new permanent executive pastor is identified and called, probably early this summer.

I am an almost-60-year-old female Presbyterian minister, with twenty-five years of pastoral experience, a Doctor of Ministry degree, and executive leadership skills. I am all dressed for a party, but have nowhere [organizationally] to go. I am sorely tempted to say, “There is something wrong with this picture,” but who is to say my life is not going exactly according to God’s plan . . .

Could it be that God is orchestrating a vanishing act, achieved by downward mobility, in order to put me in a place where I can write without interruption? After months of prayer, this is the conclusion upon which I am acting. I am turning over a new leaf and entering a new phase of ministry at home. As I say this, though, I see the tremendous emotional hurdle I have been [not] facing in the last several months, embodied in my inability to clean out my home office. Three lives (pastorate, seminary teaching, and denominational matters) are represented in the stacks and boxes and files that are now in gridlock. In response to this conundrum, one of my covenant group friends said last week, “Mary, it seems like you need to hold a funeral, and say goodbye to your old life.” That rings true for me, and I have adopted that as the primary task of this week.

Looking forward, I would like to know what approach or topics would be helpful to my blog readers. I am no longer sure where my particular value is, though I know that I have value in the Body of Christ as a teacher and perhaps a prophet. Don’t worry; I am not depressed or suffering from any sort of complex. It is well with my soul. I’m just looking for direction from my readers, and trust that your feedback can set me on a course of service as an observer and spiritual guide. I sure don’t want to waste your time blathering about stuff you prefer I keep in a private journal! So let me know what you are thinking and how you perceive my contribution to your spiritual journey.

 

 

 

 

BC and AC: A Shock to the System

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

After a two-month hiatus from blogging, I am ready for the daily discipline again. I stopped out for three main reasons: 

Firstly, a writing/editing project came along and its due date was December 21. Now that it is finished, my readers will be hearing about it in future posts, because it has everything to do with Bringing the Word to Life and the Presbyterian Church. But I’ll keep you in suspense two more days on its themes.

Secondly, I found myself speechless. I know this is hard to believe, but I felt “silenced,” not in a bad way but more along the lines of Proverbs 10:19, “When words are many, sin is not absent, but the one who holds his tongue is wise.” There have been so many issues and events to comment upon, but sometimes things just need to sit without comment while time heals and gathers wisdom.

Thirdly, in a season of personal soul-searching and spiritual discernment, I did not feel it appropriate to share my thoughts-in-progress. Since this blog focuses on Bringing the Word to Life in the Presbyterian family, and what I was pondering was far removed from PC(USA) concerns, this was not the time or forum. I do have a life much larger than my involvement with the Presbyterian Church, and that wider zoe got my full attention.

What prompted me to write today, however, was a thought sparked by some of the fun Facebook posts I have enjoyed in the last month. Several babies (or grandbabies) have been born to friends, former students, and daughters’ BFFs. Pictures of Baby appear on the birth day (supplanting the printed and mailed birth announcement), and ecstatic parents, grandparents, and friends log in with their amazement and wonder. Best quote: “I can hardly believe what has happened. There didn’t used to be a person here in my arms.”

And then about a week later, one reads the posts born of fatigue mixed with gratitude: fatigue at the lack of sleep, and gratitude for the privilege of welcoming a little one into the world. A few days later, the parental mishaps, chronic tardiness, and other inconveniences introduced into their pre-baby orderly world are revealed.

These comments of course revive my own memories of birthing two daughters, two years and five months apart in the early 1980s. Our life story is forever divided into BC and AC, “before children” and “after children.” The first week of parenthood, while amazing and thrilling, was also one of complete exhaustion as we re-organized our entire lives to accommodate the needs and schedule of a newborn. This meant giving up sleep at all hours, sticking ourselves with diaper pins in a dimly lit nursery, adjusting diet to enhance nursing, and learning how to do everything else one-handed. I remember the day my greatest accomplishment was washing my hair, and I laughed at myself for all the multitasking I was not maintaining under these startlingly new conditions. It was indeed a shock to the system that had previously been somewhat under my control.

So here is where my thoughts took me:  at this time of year (Christmastide), while the world has dropped the subject of Christmas altogether, we Christians are pondering the impact of the Bethlehem Arrival announced on December 25. On the day of God’s Incarnation in Jesus, the lives of Mary and Joseph were disrupted. They were already away from home on an administrative errand when Mary’s time came to deliver her child. There was no room in the inn, as Bethlehem was disrupted by the influx of visitors. Shepherds tending their flocks nearby were disrupted by the appearance of angels announcing the Savior’s birth. Herod most emphatically was disturbed by news reports of a rival king. In addition to all this commotion, I am sure Mary got little sleep while her infant experimented with the day-is-night and night-is-day turnaround that confounds parents everywhere. Nevertheless, she embraced the parental role: to do what is most important for the safe nurture of this new human being. Emotionally healthy parents will do anything to secure their child’s future. For Mary and Joseph, that included a sojourn to Egypt to escape Herod’s jealous rage.

Jesus’ Incarnation causes the Church no less of a disruption and no fewer inconveniences than a newborn’s entry into a family. God expects us to rearrange our corporate life around the reality that the Savior dwells in our midst and must be the center of our attention. Our life together finds order only as every activity and every thought, every strategy and every plan, revolves around knowing Christ and making him know to everyone everywhere. A church in my neighborhood underwent a major re-building a while back, and its architectural design illustrates this reality beautifully. The worship sanctuary is imbedded in the middle of the main church building, surrounded by both classrooms and offices, reminding me of the exodus arrangement of tribal encampments around the Tent of Meeting.

And so, in 2013, I hope the PC(USA) can give attention to how we organize ourselves to give witness to the presence and power of God and to remain alert to his claim upon us. It is this impact for which we must make room in our hearts and in our organization.