First Impressions

First Impressions and being a church visitor....

I’m one of those people who really take delight in worship. I loved the time that I served as Pastor in Ashton, Idaho. I loved planning worship, sermon preparation and preaching and leading worship. Sitting back as a visitor in an unfamiliar place can be much less pleasant, because my standards are what I’ve practiced in my own ministry.

On occasion visiting a new church falls in the category of painful. It’s my definition of suffering. With so many versions of mainline church claims of being welcoming and warm, there still exists a tremendous lack of genuine welcome and sometimes it feels downright freezing cold regardless of the current weather report and central air system.  

We’re in Concord, North Carolina this week.

It’s been weeks since we’ve had a Sunday where we weren’t traveling or been otherwise committed to something which would keep us away from Sunday worship. I miss regular communion. I miss community of the body around the Table.

Friday night I started researching and located the closest Episcopal Church, checked out the times and did a little inner heel kick that the late service didn’t begin until after 11am.

Sunday  morning we headed out ready to experience the usual warm welcome we have known from the Episcopal churches in the High Desert. I’ve missed that warm “welcome home” that greeted us the first time we entered St. Hilary’s and St. Timothy’s and hoped that would be our experience.

Sadly we were a bit disappointed.

What we experienced started out just a bit awkward. We allowed ourselves an extra cushion of time to find the campus, and check out their layout. We weren’t going to be late arrivers drawing attention to ourselves by disturbing the community mid-service.

The signs approaching from the parking lot pointed out the direction to the Office, the Church, and the Church House. We broached the doors. In the loft overhead the choir was assembled for warm up. An older couple sat at the back pew; that felt familiar.

The gentleman noticed our entrance, and rose to greet us. He was kind and helpful in handing us service bulletins. He pointed out the visitors card in the pew, and then urged us out the side door to show us into a central hall for refreshments and invited us to freely join conversation at a couch about 12 feet away with several others already in conversation.

All this is okay so far. He gave the impression that he wasn’t completely comfortable conversing and didn’t transition us by introducing us to anyone else so we hung back eyeing things from afar. He did however show genuine awareness of us being present and extended his best effort at hospitality.

By the way, the priest, already vested “to the chasuble” passed us when we were first moving from the sanctuary to the hall, but made no notice of our presence.

So there we stood, for about a minute or two when another gentleman approached. He held a long fluorescent tube in one hand and was clearly on a mission. That mission was deferred as he paused, recognized our presence as strangers deserving a welcome. Good job Mr. Vestryman. Thanks for taking time to acknowledge us.

Then, as we stood with Mr. Vestryman a woman with her big name badge on came up to each of us and expressed interest

“Are you a member?” she asked. I was standing by a table that contained something. I later realized where the member badges.

“No, we’re visiting the area, members of an Episcopal Church in California. We’re here for a short stay while in training.”

“Oh....” small conversation continued. Thanks Ma’am for the acknowledgement.  That helped remove some of the discomfort. She also pointed out the refreshment table. Thanks for also offering refreshments.

And then, the priest came up to our threesome cluster, she approached Mr. Vestryman and Mrs. Member who were to my right. I looked straight at her, and my husband stood about five feet away from me, watching. She stood cleaning her glasses using her chasuble, and began carrying on weather talk with Mr Vestryman and Mrs. Member. I continued standing there, less than a foot away from the threesome looking straight at The Rev. Celebrant and still she did not seem to register that I was a visitor. It was as if I was invisible. Rather like Lazarus at the gate.

So I walked away from the group, and passed the refreshment table and proceeded to tour the very nicely furnished hall with its’ tastefully organized Library on the back wall behind the giant screen suspended from the ceiling which kept flashing announcements of upcoming events. Was that a fireplace under the screen?

Tim had retreated into the background by a different path. He disappeared on his own inspection, and then slipped back into the sanctuary.

A few minutes later I found my way to where he was and took my seat next to him in the back pew.

Then a very nice younger woman got up from her seat in the pew on the other side of the church and came up to me.

She leaned in close to my left ear and said ….“The Tag of your top is sticking up.”… “She (her now motioning to the older woman seated in another pew directly across the aisle) said it was the first thing she noticed when she saw you.”

“Oh… well…thanks for letting me know. ” I replied as I fumbled to tuck it back in concealed position.

REALLY???

Is that how you welcome a visitor?

You embarrass them straight off the bat?

Is it that important to the decorum of worshiping God and being the body of Christ that you must point out the insignificant but recalcitrant label to the complete stranger that just crossed the thresholds of Our Lord’s House of Worship?

Well thanks for that. It might not have felt like such an offense if you had offered a greeting before pointing out my fashion faux pas. Or, if at the passing of peace, you would have used just as much energy to extend the peace of Christ to mend my pricked feelings.

The crowning experience was when as we left the communion rail, being the last two people on the pulpit side of the rail, we were immediately followed by the priest hustling behind us so fast to take communion to a member at the rear that she actually stepped on the back of Tim’s foot.

I guess those last ten minutes of the third service must really feel like an eternity to you Reverend. You still have all those parishioner home visits to conduct and just want to get to the end. But next week, try not to run down the last two guests leaving our Lord’s Table as you hustle to complete your duties of serving your aged, lame and infirm members. A smile from time to time might be a warm touch. Just a thought…after you deliver the chastising word of God, contrast it later with the love of Christ overflowing. 

I can put up with the lack of flexibility in suggesting that members may stand or sit as the BCP presents it. I can put up with not knowing the service music setting as a visitor. It’s nice to hear the priest say that all are welcome to receive communion from the Lord’s Table “no matter who you are or where you are” in your life. But your actions need to match your words.

Now, if that big hall that you ushered us into is a Welcome Center, then I would humbly suggest you might just want to change your signage outside and begin to model true welcoming. Give better directions to the best door to enter.

Here’s a question for you:

When you spot a person with a garment label peeking up at their neckline what do you do?

Do you:

1. Point it out immediately.
2. Introduce yourself, begin casual conversation and then casually slip in a “oh, by the way, I love your outfit. Did you know our tag is breaking out?
3. Ignore it.
4. Introduce yourself, begin casual conversation and then casually slip in a “oh, by the way, I love your outfit. I hope you will forgive me pointing out that your tag is sticking out. I don’t know about you but that is my personal pet-peeve.”

If a Church wants to say to the world that it is a church that welcomes anyone “whoever they are and wherever they are in their walk with God”, pointing out fashion faux pas just simply contradicts the message you are trying to communicate.

Shepherd of the flock : It also doesn’t matter that you can preach an exquisite message on the texts which convicts the members of their need to remove the blinders from their eyes and do it without a manuscript  if you are going to literally walk upon the feet of the “invisible man” you just served the Bread of Life to in the Name of Jesus.

Here’s the take away…

You can never make a First Impression twice.

If I ever relocate to this area, I am highly unlikely to come right back to your beautiful campus. I could be sampling other congregations for a very long time based on the first impression of the congregation, or making this city my next most desired place to relocate.

World as Parish

I've been thinking lately about the differences in ministry in John and Charles Wesley's day, and the present age. Is what happens through social media at any level near what George Whitefield and John Wesley stirred up when they took to the fields to preach?

Why am I thinking about such an analogy? Well, quite simple really. If you read back in this blog you'll find this little post about the start of a church community through the use of Facebook.

John Wesley found himself stirring up things quite a bit in his day. He often took advantage of invitations to fill a pulpit to preach messages that conflicted the hearers. The established Church of England had become a place for people of wealth and position, but the average man rarely stepped a foot across the sanctuary threshold.

That led to his rather unorthodox practice of preaching in fields, and public spaces on many occasion. Not only did he preach, but he even conducted Eucharistic celebrations to serve the gathered people.

What do some outside the box priests and congregants do today?
They do "Church outside the church". Sometimes to skid row. Sometimes in the subways.
They take rituals of meaning to the people instead of waiting for the people to come to them.

During John Wesley's life he spend a great deal of time visiting the sick and prisoners as well as encouraging members of the Methodist classes to do so. His admonition, "Do all the good you can, as often as you can to as many people as you can for as long as you can."  With more people claiming to be spiritual but not religious, institutional chaplains are more likely to encounter people with a need for someone to listen and offer a ministry of compassionate presence. In my own continuing discernment process I have run toward, away and then returned to this significant place of ministry, recognizing that as a chaplain, I serve from the place of my own spiritual strength, not with an intent to change the existing set of beliefs, only to help the other name them and find strength for their journey.

John was known for his intense daily schedule and his ability to maintain correspondence with a vast number of people both in and outside the Methodist Movement. He was a giant in the field of mentoring in the Christian life for both men and women. He wrote tracts that were published to help the preachers and class leaders, to equip them for their work of forming faithful disciples.

What do we do today?

BLOG! Self-publishing has become easier than ever.

We no longer even have to spend money on paper, ink or printing labor.

All a person really needs to begin to form a community online is to spend time on the computer, and engage with other people.

Being open to the Divine Dance and relevant relationships that the Holy Spirit may be inviting us into seems, at least to me, to be the key.

But one little item still seems incomplete...

Human beings need tangible human contact.

While all this online communication helps create familiarity, when the world around you begins to fall apart at the seams, most people need all their available senses to be engaged. The touch of a hand, the calm presence of another person sitting across a cup of tea or coffee. Even someone that will be moved to offer a prayer of intercession. These things cannot be fulfilled through an online community.

And in this respect, I think that John Wesley would urge each of us to find ways to commune often around a table, with Chalice and Paten, as well as Scripture to complete the work of growing in grace and giftedness to the Glory of God.

How that looks on the ground might look like one of these in the New Monasticism or in might look more like this gathering around the table in Brooklyn.

One thing I am pretty certain of. The missional focus will look beyond just the individual's needs and wants. The missional focus for the core of any such group will have a passionate interest is doing more than "hatching, matching, and dispatching" of people to "meet their maker" at the end of human life, and it won't be entirely consumed in what simply makes the members feel comfortable. It will be a place where people become proficient in listening to the Holy as She whispers and swirls among the people gathered.This kind of community will be a fountain of healing and holy living, inviting all who are thirsty to drink from the well of the Living Water.

Just my thoughts...

What do you think?

Great Triduum

Tonight is the beginning of the Great Triduum; three solemn days of remembrance before the great Resurrection Celebration. In these three days, which for me become ever more dear with the passing of each year, we reflect on the final days of Jesus’ ministry on earth.

In the Gospel of John, following the triumphal entry into Jerusalem when the Greeks came to Phillip and Andrew saying they wanted to see Jesus we begin to see Jesus shut down his public ministry. The response to the request which was related to Jesus by Andrew and Phillip sidesteps the request. Jesus begins talking about his “hour”. He talks about the need for death and uses a grain of wheat as his example. The Greeks, on that day, were apparently left with an unsatisfied longing, an unfulfilled yearning to see Jesus. Somewhat oddly the way the lectionary is currently set up, this passage was assigned to the fifth week of Lent, pulled out of the chronology and placed before us to reflect upon those who still long to see Jesus. It provides a call to faithful discipleship for the church in this hour. After preaching on this text John 12:20-33, two weeks ago I presented a challenge to each and all, self included, for us to pray about where we were being called to become broken open, like the grain of wheat Jesus taught about, to bear fruit.

During the Paschal Triduum we are brought to table, the garden, the trial, the cross, and the tomb. We encounter the sinfulness of humanity as well as the heroism. The love and devotion as well as the betrayal which comes from being weak and human are played out for self examination and meditation on the life of the one we claim to be the source of our salvation.

Do you wonder, as I do, how much Jesus “knew” and how much Jesus “intuited” of the coming end to his human life? Did God reveal to him, as centuries later Martin Luther King related his mountain top experience? Was it “just a feeling” that had to be followed, as we so often chart courses for our lives? Did Jesus really and truly remember what he left behind when he “emptied himself of divinity” to become incarnate?

Does it matter to you in your journey of faith as it seems to matter for mine?

The incarnation is interpreted in many ways. Some hold such high Christological formulas that it seems that Jesus never really did suffer. That heterodoxy diminishes the ability for me to find comfort from Jesus, as Great High Priest. Jesus as the pattern and perfecter of our salvation must have had to deal with temptation, but demonstrated the power of the Almighty Father-Mother accessible to all humanity, even you, even me. This is the Jesus I need to encounter in Scripture in order to place my whole faith and trust in the Triune God. .

I favor a view of Jesus growing in wisdom and understanding as a human, gifted with intuition and empowered with a spiritual discipline to grow in grace and love to follow the inspiration of God through the presence of the Holy Spirit in his life. With that I can imagine his wrestling with the decisions of each day, in the same way that I must toss and turn options and speculate upon the results of my actions.
Unlike me, Jesus was so perfectly connected to the Divine Source of all life that each decision served to fulfill the Divine Intentions for all humanity. And yet, El Shaddai withheld the use of any coercion upon Jesus.

It is conceivable that Jesus would have never even sat upon the colt which had never before ridden. Jesus could have chosen obscurity, anonymity and lived a very long life in human form.

But he didn’t and the rest, as they say is history.

In the end he gathered his disciples together and remembered the Saving Acts of God for the children of Abraham and Sarah. He offered a new interpretation for the meal that they shared together that night to provide the way to continue his presence among them, after the fleshy temple was destroyed.

He enacted a parable of servanthood in the washing of his disciples’ feet. He taught them that servants are never greater than their masters.

Then he called them his friends. Thick or thin, good times and bad, they were his friends for whom he prayed and beseeched the Father to grant power to go forth in his name.

This is where the Greeks come in. Only through those who would later receive and use the power gifted to them would the Greeks come to see Jesus. Through the mystery of the community which would repeatedly share the meal in remembrance of Jesus’ death and resurrection until he comes again in Glory, the Greeks and Romans, Celts, Galations, (the list goes on) came to see Jesus, to see and be set free.

Tonight we gather to retell the story and experience the presence of God amongst us. It is a night for reflection upon our own discipleship. Have we picked up the cross, been able to drink the cup, wash the feet, feed the hungry, heal the sick, release prisoners from their peculiar bondages? Have we looked upon all around us and seen the face of God in each person? Have we gone to the places that Jesus would have us go? Have we denied the Lord Jesus?

Tonight is a night to watch and wait with Jesus, either in community through the vigil which follows in the sanctuary with the Blessed Sacrament or in private meditation. For me this will be a solemn time of prayer and reflection upon my ministry and the next turn in my journey.

One month from today, May 5, 2012, I will, by the grace of God, have completed the work and will be presented a certificate that acknowledges my completion of the course Anglican Studies at Bloy House. Beyond that accomplishment, there is a significant amount of uncertainty.

I have colleagues from other places that are preparing to depart for Thailand, and changing posts from Mozambique to parts unknown. A call to church planting begins to resonate with me, though not to a distant place. I have been led back to this place to learn and to grow as well as serve. All around I see signs that I am in a field where the harvest is still plentiful but laborers few. My own calling is a mission to proclaim, to witness, to serve, to teach, to equip, to bring healing and reconciliation through word and sacrament and they await me, though only the Divine Author of all Creation knows the location. I feel it may be very near to where I already am. I know not for sure and wait upon the blowing of the Holy Spirit to direct my path.

Grateful Heart

“Grateful to be known and loved by God, that Christ has taken residence in my heart. Thankful for family that increases in size each year, through marriages and births, and the fellowship of the church.” (Facebook post Nov 24, 2011 7:20am)

Maybe that’s all that needs to be said, but I feel so much more.

I am grateful for being an inheritor of a great line of tradition. In following my pilgrim path I discovered a treasure which anchors my place within the lesser known history of this nation. Thanks to Professor Ann Taves who taught Christian History by having each student research our own family history, looking for the story of how religion played a role in each of our families. That research led me to a corpus of correspondence between my maternal grandmother and all the family connections she could make. Ruth’s quest provided a treasury of stories of faith from many generations. There was one in the late 18th Century who belonged to the Church of England and became Methodist because of the zeal of the preachers. Another who, it is told always was a member of the Episcopal Church. There is a record of an 19th Century Episcopal priest, Rev. Wright, in North Carolina. There were many Congregationalists and very many Irish Roman Catholics. All belonging to the one Body of Christ, united in the Covenant of Baptism, and strengthened by Holy Communion. Both priesthood and servanthood have been handed down from generation to generation. These and many more watch over me and embolden me as I continue to pray for clarity in my vocation.

If a certain committee does not or cannot hear my call to holy orders, I will still be a Christ-bearer. From the covenant of my Baptism I am empowered to serve. By the gift of the Holy Spirit I am a leader and teacher in the church. By the authority of the Bishop and my priest, I am a preacher, lay Eucharistic minister, and lay reader in the service to my parish. I will continue to be a prophetic voice speaking for the hungry, homeless, jobless, victims of disaster. I will remain a voice that speaks in opposition to institutional violence and corporate greed. This is both my diaconal ministry and priesthood; for this I need no other authority than the empowerment of the Holy Spirit.

Ever since I completed my undergraduate degree, I have always been called to serve as an equipper and one who empowers others to live out their baptismal ministry in the unique ways that God has gifted them; to see the sacred in all of life and to respond faithfully to God in extending Christ’s reign in the present age.

While huddled under my warm covers this morning I was struck by the tremendous contradiction of the present day American celebration of Thanksgiving, in relation to the first pilgrim feast, following the harsh winter and first year in this new land. The Pilgrims voyage in the Mayflower was for the pursuit of a place to live out their Puritan Christian ethic, one which disdained the celebration of Christmas. The day was set aside to feast with their new neighbors; Native Americans who welcomed them and helped them through that first year. Thanksgiving Day in the present age seems to be only about over-consumption for mainstream America. Now, the vast majority of Americans engage in massive eating. After that they plan and execute great shopping trips consisting of waiting hours, or days in lines for the best deals of the day.

The Pilgrims life is a worldview. Living the Christian life faithfully requires making faithful choices; choosing to be in the world and yet not of the world. Thankfully, last night our parish was afforded the opportunity to gather together for Evening Prayer led by our young Christians with the guidance and direction of Deacon Nicholas. Those gathered were the faithful remnant scripture often upholds to us. I am grateful that our family has been steadfast enough in our faith to resist the constant pressure of advertising which fills the air.

Today, we will take a trip up to Big Bear to join our daughter-in-law’s family. We are blessed to share this day with ones we love, who also love God; Father, Son and Holy Spirit.