United Church of Two Harbors

The other day while walking through Two Harbors I spotted a sticker in the back window of a car. It was what is commonly called the "peace symbol." This symbol actually got its start as a symbol for Nuclear Disarmament, formed by combining the semaphore for "N" and "D." It's not a very old symbol, as symbols go, celebrating its 52nd birthday this coming February.

Written around this symbol were the words "Peace through Superior Firepower."

We are moving into the season where we celebrate angels singing over the plains "Peace on Earth" but I'm reminded by this sticker that peace can mean a lot of things. So the question of the moment for me is, what kind of peace?

For many the only imaginable peace is a peace that must be enforced by the threat of force. Some people hope for a Pax Americana harkening back to the Pax Romana, a period of some 200 years where Rome was the world's sole superpower and dominated all of the lesser forces into submission. This created a period of time where aqueducts and roads were built and commerce flowed freely around the Mediterranean. Likewise some hope that America, as a sole superpower, can by threat of arms create a world where infrastructure can flourish and economic forces can create wealth, if not for all, at least for some.

It was exactly this "peace" into which Jesus was born. This "peace" was really no peace at all. Otherwise, why would the angels hope for peace? This peace by brute force was simply domination in order to bring order, and that order was called "peace."

But the peace the angels proclaimed was not this kind of peace at all. Nor was it some kind of idyllic cessation of hostility among nations and people. It was a peace between God and humanity.

For we were and have been at war with God, in big and small ways. We declared the war when we, in the guise of Adam and Eve, tried to become gods ourselves. And that's been the struggle ever since.

In this ongoing conflict God declared an amnesty in the person of Jesus Christ and called us to lay down arms and stop our warring ways, because the war wasn't hurting God, it was hurting ourselves and each other and creation itself. We needed a different way, a different peace.

So, this Christmas, let us know peace. Let us know peace on Earth and celebrate God's goodwill to all.

Posted by ironic1 at 7:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We're in the midst of a communication revolution and you are a part of it.

Over the summer I polled you on how you use media in your daily life and we got great feedback and fascinating results. Of those who responded here are some interesting statistics:

• 90% of you receive the Lighthouse and, of those, 71% read it cover to cover every month. The most valued parts of the newsletter by readers are the Calendar of Events, this essay, and the Thank Yous, Birthdays, and Hospitalizations page.
• Reading the local paper is a pastime of people over 40. People under 40 rarely read newspapers.
• More than anything else (Television, Radio, Newspapers, etc.) you check your email daily and 77% of you have high speed internet at home.
• 35% of you have a Facebook account and, of respondents in their 20s, 100% have Facebook accounts.

So, given all this, here are some things we've done:

• We are going to start emailing out announcements on a weekly basis on Thursday mornings. If you aren't getting these emails, write Jan at ucth@ucth.org and let her know you want to be included.
• We have started a Facebook page at facebook.ucth.org and I encourage you to become a "fan."

The wonderful thing about this form of communication is that is driven by you. I don't want to talk to you; I want to talk with you. Already on our Facebook page we have polls, discussion topics, videos, pictures, and so on, and you can comment on any of these. You can leave messages on our Facebook wall and share what you are thinking.

The internet can be a place where we can stay in communication all week long and, I'm grateful to note, that several of our young adults who have grown up in the church but now live in far flung places have joined the site so that they can stay connected to their home church.

So, let's have a conversation and be reminded that the body of Christ is much bigger than those who gather in a sanctuary on a Sunday morning.

Yours,

Pastor Lawrence

Posted by ironic1 at 7:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The automobile industry in this country has been called unresponsive to the needs of the common person, out of touch with societal trends, and uncaring about global changes. As a result the industry is suffering mightily and is quickly trying to retool to respond to the needs of a changing world.

Likewise, I've heard the same arguments over the last 20 years about the church and, let's face it, the church is suffering as well.

Maybe both deservedly so. So, what can the church learn from Detroit's collapse? While the analogy isn't perfect, let me suggest a few things.

Refocus Mission - The auto industry is desperately heading back to the drawing board and asking itself key questions about its mission. In other words, what are we meant to do? Often success breeds complacency and we can get focused on irrelevancies that take our focus off our core mission. A few years ago here at United Church we started using our Mission Statement in every publication and at every service of worship and at every council meetings so that by now, hopefully, everyone in our church, young and old, have committed it to memory. What are we about? We are about welcoming all people and nurturing followers of Jesus Christ.

Reconsider Distribution - One of the things that is much talked about is how Detroit distributes its product and how it relates directly, or indirectly, with the consumer. In the same way I think the church needs to rethink how we relate to people. Our old model, and Detroit's old model, is that the people come to us and their choices are limited. In today's world the people don't need to come to us and the amount of information they have is great. The church, like Detroit, needs to reorient to a much more savvy and less beholden public.

Brand Loyalty is Nonexistent - In the past there were Ford families or Chrysler families who would only buy a particular brand of car. They were fiercely loyal to that company and would extol its virtues. Now people will buy cars based on their circumstantial needs without regard to the brand. Likewise denominational loyalty no longer holds sway in today's world and that's just a fact. Just because you grew up in a United Methodist home does not guarantee that you won't go to a Pentecostal church later in life. Loyalty must be earned and people look at congregations on a case to case basis. Churches whining about this fact changes nothing and, actually, there is a great opportunity here.

Economies of Scale vs. Changing Consumer Need - Detroit made it big using assembly lines and creating economies of scale to drive down costs. The problem is that the consumer's need is not always met by this cookie cutter approach and it made Detroit very slow to respond to the changing world around them. In the same way churches need to be nimble and ready to respond quickly. This, actually, is where the church, especially small and midsized churches, like our own, has a perceived advantage. The church works on a decentralized model where each congregation is given quite a bit of autonomy within our basic guidelines. This should mean that every congregation is free to adapt and change to its context. The challenge is sharing these innovations to other congregations to spark creativity and renewal. The good news is that this is happening and, largely because of the internet, there is more peer to peer sharing of innovations within the church than ever before. This is truly an exciting chapter in church history.

These are four parallels, in an admittedly imperfect analogy, that I could think of right off the top of my head. What are some that you see? How do you think the church can learn from other circumstances in the world today? Where does the analogy break down for you? Let me know. Leave a comment.

Peace,

Pastor Lawrence

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 9:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thinking theologically doesn't come naturally. It takes work.

A few weeks ago, around the bicentennial of the birth of Charles Darwin, I decided to lead our Confirmation Class in a theological discussion of the theory of evolution.

It's unfortunate, really, that much of what we learn of argument comes from television pundits who characterize dialogue as two people who take opposing points of view and then go at it for 6 minutes at a time, taking breaks for the network to sell you soap or beer. I'm hoping that we can teach our children that true argument is not about defending positions, but about a shared search for the truth.

To guide our discussion I employed Wesley's Quadrilateral of Scripture, Tradition, Experience, and Reason. As stated in the Book of Discipline:

"Wesley believed that the living core of the Christian faith was revealed in Scripture, illumined by tradition, vivified in personal experience, and confirmed by reason. Scripture is primary, revealing the Word of God 'so far as it is necessary for our salvation.'"

So we started with Scripture and read the first account of creation, found in Genesis 1. We recognized that the purpose of this text was not so much to describe physical creation, as the creation it describes is significantly different from the world as we know and perceive it, but to state in unambiguous terms that God creates and what God creates is blessed and called "good."

We then turned to Tradition, looking at the teachings of the church. We looked particularly at the official teachings of the Presbyterian Church (USA)...

"Our responsibility as Christians is to deal seriously with the theories and findings of all scientific endeavors, evolution included, and to enter into open dialogue with responsible persons involved in scientific tasks about the achievement, failures and limits of their activities and of ours... Unless it is clearly necessary to uphold a basic Biblical doctrine, the Church is not called upon and should carefully refrain from either affirming or denying the theory of evolution. We conclude that the true relation between the evolutionary theory and the Bible is that of non-contradiction."

and of the United Methodist Church...

"We recognize science as a legitimate interpretation of God’s natural world. We affirm the validity of the claims of science in describing the natural world, although we preclude science from making authoritative claims about theological issues."

The we turned to our own Experience and what Reason tells us. We talked about the Scientific Method and how we use our senses and our logic to interpret the world around us. I was grateful to have Roger Anderson present to talk about his own journey as a teacher of science and a person of faith and how he sees these pursuits as not only compatible, but complimentary.

We did not all agree in our discussion about what to think about evolution, but what I hope we learned by our discussion is that neither science nor theology have anything to fear from the truth.

Out of human hubris the church insisted for centuries that the earth was the center of the cosmos and used the creation story to support the claim, but now we commonly accept that the earth is not a flat disc under a dome through which the planets and stars process, but a smallish planet that hurtles around a nuclear furnace on the edge of a galaxy that is only one among innumerable galaxies. Does this impoverish our theology? Not in the least. It enriches it because it reminds us that we are but a small part of a much larger cosmos.

The Bible is not a book of science. It does not do a good job of describing the physical world. But it does do an amazing job describing our spiritual reality. We are created by God and we are blessed to live in a world that has been lovingly prepared. We have responsibilities as keepers of the garden. We are wonderfully and fearfully made.

Posted by ironic1 at 3:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This month our country will participate in our quadrennial rite of inauguration. And while our eyes may be glued on the television with pictures coming from Washington D. C. and live-blogging on the internet, we probably should all just take a step outside and look to the skies.

The word "inauguration," after all, comes from the word "augur" and augurs were ancient Roman priests. They were consulted when any important matters of state were to be decided - going to war, business deals, treaties, or electing new leaders. And augurs got their cues by studying the flight patterns of birds.

Historians have noted how corrupt the augurs probably were. Uncannily, birds seemed to cooperate with whoever gave the augurs the nicest donations. But, still, as we inaugurate a new leader I think it's important to look skyward.

And if we did look skyward, what signs would we see?
• Migration patterns altered by climate change.
• Bird species going extinct at the rate of 10 a year.
• Air pollution, noise pollution, water pollution, and ground pollution all heavily impacting avian life.
• Natural habitats and nesting grounds being destroyed.

What signs, indeed?

As a wise man once said, "You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."

One of the huge differences between ancient and contemporary cultures is how human-centered we are. No doubt it will be the human story that plays large on Inauguration Day. But ancient cultures, which we scoff at for being superstitious or unscientific, at least understood that we as human beings took our place among many creatures in the cosmos, though, perhaps, our impact is inordinately large.

So I pray for our new president because the signs of the birds do not bode well for us. If we are to take our stewardship of all creation seriously, we must look to the skies, to the waters, to the pastures, and to the woods. We must hear what the birds are telling us about who we are and where we are going.

So this Inauguration Day please look skyward and pray.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 12:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Call me "Pollyanna" but I think that, maybe, just maybe, a tanking economy may be the best thing to happen to Christmas in years.

Just today I got two emails from church members about how they are approaching Christmas differently this year, de-emphasizing presents and emphasizing presence. After all, what is the greatest present you have to give? A thing you bought off a shelf? I doubt it. When we give ourselves we give a lot more. And when we say "it's the thought that counts" then why not give what matters?

So here are some suggestions of things we can do to make this Christmas the best ever.

Make your own gifts. You don't have to be crafty. How about compiling a small book of your own recipes? Or maybe you could record some poems or readings on tape or CD to give to friends. Instead of a gift exchange with friends, how about setting up a cookie exchange?

Give yourself. How about giving coupon for babysitting or leaf raking or snow shoveling? Instead of a gift certificate, how about an invitation to come over for a meal? If you are skilled in an area, offer to give a tutorial!

Volunteer. Help out as a family or group of friends at our local food shelf or CHUM or Damiano or Neighbor to Neighbor. There are plenty of organizations that run on the work of volunteers and doing it as a group is great fun.

Donate. So, with all that money you are saving from not buying gifts, why not find some causes worth supporting? One of my favorites is Heifer International (last year I gave a goat in the name of my nephews and nieces) but there are other great causes as well such as not for profit arts organizations which provide for the community year round.

Now, you may be saying to yourself, "But my kid/friend/parent/significant other is expecting a gift! Why mess up his or her Christmas?"

Well, first, I'm not saying don't give gifts. I think we should give gifts, but be more conscientious about our gift giving.

Second, expectations can be altered. As my family of origin started to grow we agreed that buying a gift for everyone just wasn't practical, so we agreed on a gift exchange with a limit on how much we could spend on the gift put in the exchange ($10). Part of the fun became finding interesting gifts under that limit that we thought would be of interest to our family.

Third, ask yourself what really made Christmases past meaningful and focus on those things. I'm betting that on reflection most people won't list gifts among those things. Though I really, really loved this big box of legos I got when I was 9. Gosh, I loved those legos. But, really, what made those legos really fun was playing with them with my brother and my friends.

So, please, have yourself a merry little Christmas! Let's set out to enjoy the season.

Posted by ironic1 at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The term "moral hazard" has been bandied about much in the news of late and, if you haven't been hiding under a rock for the last two weeks, you'll know why. "Moral hazard" refers to economists' fears that an overly generous bailout of beleaguered financial institutions will lead to riskier behavior of other institutions in the future because they'll figure "if things go bad Washington will bail us out."

I know this is all very serious, but the term just makes me giggle. It's like we're playing golf on an ethical green and my ball just happens to land in the "moral hazard."

"Moral hazard" could aptly be applied to some Christian's conception of God's grace. The idea goes like this: I sin, I go to God, I ask for forgiveness, God forgives me, I go back out and do whatever I want. Lather, rinse, repeat. The concept perverts a simple truth about God, that God is merciful.

But this is what Dietrich Bonhoeffer would have called "cheap grace," that is forgiveness without discipleship. He warns in his book the Cost of Discipleship, which he wrote under the shadow of the Nazi regime, that the church was facing a crisis of increased secularization which cheapened its teachings by making its sacraments of baptism and communion perfunctory rites that required no real contrition, no real repentance, no real sense of belonging to Christ. As such the church became simply a place to have your children baptized, celebrate weddings, give rites for the dead, and, oh yeah, if you felt bad about something you'd done, you could go there to be absolved.

This, to my way of thinking, is a real "moral hazard."

To be clear, I do believe that God's grace is abundant and free. That it goes before us to make a way and welcomes us home. But I also believe that when we access this grace it is transformative. When we treat God's grace so cheaply it shows that we are not grateful.

This is not a new problem. It is not a modern issue. This is the same issue which the prophet Micah addressed when he wrote:

"With what shall I come before the Lord and bow down before the exalted God? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the LORD be pleased with thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."

May you know grace in your life and may you respond in grace.

Posted by ironic1 at 12:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Recently I was asked by a colleague to describe my process of how I prepare to preach. A lot of people have asked me this and I thought I might let you in on some trade secrets with the hope it might help you in relating to scripture.

First of all I see my role as a preacher is to be a scout, an explorer. I live my life out on the spiritual edge and bring back weekly reports. If I'm not pushing the boundaries I'm not doing my job.

I start working on a sermon about 8-10 weeks ahead. I pray over the scriptures for the day. Find what piques my interest or aggravates me or even angers me, and then focus on that passage or sentence or word. It's the grain of sand in the oyster that makes the pearl. I preach toward my own salvation.

I start working on an outline and then attune myself to all I hear and see around me and start plugging in examples from the world around me - news, magazine articles, blogs, television, movies, conversations - everything is grist for the mill.

I bounce ideas of colleagues in text study groups. I belong to two, one that meets weekly and one that meets twice a month. This is invaluable because they often point out flaws or gaps in my thoughts or resources I should look at.

I draft the sermon, still in outline form, the week ahead, plugging in and moving around pieces and throwing out bits that distract from the main point. I want the sermon to be able to be expressed in one big idea; one simple, easy to carry, take home sentence. If an 8 year old of average intelligence can't get that basic thesis I've probably failed.

I prayerfully read over the outline in quiet solitude Sunday morning before I get bombarded by everyone, then I throw the outline away.

I pray with my liturgist and give myself over to the worshipping community. I try not to think about the sermon after this point until I preach. Often there are little changes in the sermon based on what I hear in the prayers of the community.

I pray this prayer before I start any sermon - "Eternal God, be as the farmer and our hearts the earth. Open up our hard hearts with your plow called 'truth' and plant there within the seed which is your Word. And over time, over seasons of sun and rain and frost and snow, may our hearts bear forth a harvest of your love. Amen." Why? Because I always do it, that's why. It's important for me to have something that grounds me before I launch into the sermon and this prayer has proven to be it over the years.

I preach.

I try to maintain eye contact.

I try to have no notes. Occasionally, if there is a long passage or poem or quote I want to make sure to quote directly, I will have that with me, but that is rare.

I move and try to use the space to help tell the sermon. Often if I making a distinction I will physically make one space represent one person, area, idea, way of being, and another the counter-example. For example: if I'm preaching on Judah and Israel I might make the left part of the sanctuary represent Judah, and the right represent Israel.

I have a conversation. If I ask questions I try not to make them rhetorical questions but actually include and incorporate the congregation into the sermon.

I have fun. If I'm not enjoying the sermon you probably aren't either.

I debrief with someone I trust, usually my kids. I ask what they heard, what they saw. I ask them to summarize the sermon for me.

Obviously this process means I'm working on 8-10 sermons at the same time. That's how I roll. As of the middle of August I'm just starting to look at November and I've got my topics picked through the end of October. This can be disconcerting for some people but it's exhilarating for me.

So, that's how I prepare. Now you know.

Posted by ironic1 at 12:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just purchased a new house or, rather, a new mortgage. I tell my kids that I own 3% of this house and it's whatever 3% I'm in, so if you want to be in the house that we own, you have to stay within the same 45 square feet that I'm in.

Packing and unpacking, as anyone who moves can tell you, is a real spiritual experience. You pick up hundreds of objects - from teaspoons to sofas, from toothbrushes to a ceramic spoonrest made by your son - and you have to ask yourself, each time you pick up an object, "Do I keep this? Do I give it away? Do I throw it away? Does this thing have a place in my life? Do I value it?"

More often than not a kind of ownership inertia sets in. "I've moved this object for the last four moves so I might as well move it again." But I tried this time to be really intentional about what I moved and why. A new house means a new opportunity to organize my life. It's both daunting and exhilarating.

As I was moving into my new abode (with many thanks to those people out there who helped me move) a scripture came to me over and over again in a way I'd never heard it before. In Revelation 21 as the nations enter the New Jerusalem, which has descended pristine and pure from the sky, the writer mentions that "nothing unclean will enter it." That it will always remain pristine and pure. And I want my new house to be like that. Oh, how I long for it to be like that.

But I already know, as much as I want to, it will not be so. There will be mud and there will be messes. There will be clutter and there will be chaos. In spite of my best intentions, my house will not be spotless. And, eventually, like the way of all flesh it will pass away, by cataclysm or natural decay. I was reminded of that too when I signed my insurance papers.

That said, I don't think it's a bad impulse to be mindful of what we bring into our houses. The things we keep, the stuff we store, say much about us. To paraphrase the recently deceased comedian, George Carlin, what is a house if it's not a place for our stuff? And the stuff we keep says as much about us as the stuff we leave behind.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 11:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

An old homiletics professor of mine once said, "Never repeat for emphasis. Never repeat for emphasis."

The fact is repetition is one of the best ways to get something into your deep memory. When I go to visit elderly people who have lost most of their memory and are largely incommunicative the sure way to get them talking is to pray the Lord's Prayer. Suddenly silence turns to prayer as their lips move in synch with those old familiar words and I can feel a spark present.

Repetition of our prayers and liturgy also has an impact on the young. About four years ago when Bernick's Pepsi workers were on strike Emma was wondering why I wouldn't buy Pepsi products. I tried to explain, as best I could to a 9 year old, about workers' rights and the power of collective bargaining where individuals might fail, but the whole can stand together.

To which she said, "Oh, sort of like 'we, who are many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf.'"

I blinked and said, "You've been paying attention."

"Well," she said, "you say it ALL the time."

Of course, I don't say it ALL the time. Only when we are celebrating communion. But those ideas in the prayers of the church that are repeated often enough start to grow roots in our psyche and we can't help but make connections. We start to see the world around us through the lens of our repeated prayers and scriptures.

It is meaningful to me when, at the close of communion, we pray...

"We thank you, Lord, for this holy mystery in which you have give yourself for us. Now send us forward, in the strength of your Spirit, to give ourselves for others."

I think about that a lot. God gives completely to us - body, life, blood, spirit - and so in the face of this complete and utter giving of self we are compelled to do likewise. It's like breathing. God gives. We receive. We give. The cycle goes on.

What prayer or scripture that we repeat has found its way into your heart and soul? How has it changed you? If you could commit one or two prayers or passages of scripture to memory what would they be?

Posted by ironic1 at 12:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The United Methodist Church met in General Conference this past month as they do every four years and I was looking over their list of items passed and not. As United Methodists we will have a new hymnal as of 2013. We won't be changing any of our language on the inclusion (or exclusion) of gays and lesbians. We are seeking full communion with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. Probationary clergy will now be called provisional clergy. And so on.

But what caught my eye was a change to what we pledge when we become members of the church. The formula, for the last 70 some years, has been that we pledge to support the church through our "prayers, presence, gifts, and service." New members now will also be asked to pledge their "witness" as well.

"Witness" is a loaded term for most people, burdened with images of street corner preachers or overwrought emotional testimonies at revival meetings. It's an unfortunate association because the act of bearing witness is a very simple one - if you know the truth, speak up.

I think of a witness called to give testimony in court. As a witness your duty is fairly simple and straight forward - tell the truth to the best of your ability. In the New Testament followers of Jesus are called repeatedly to "bear witness" to what they have seen. They point is, again, to tell the truth they have seen to the best of their ability.

I'm glad for this change because it reminds us that we are all responsible to bear witness to the truth and that everyone's faith journey is different. Sometimes, because our journeys are so different, we are shy to speak up about our experience because we are under the mistaken impression that different is wrong. But we need to bear witness so that we can learn from each others' experiences. It is how we see the work of the Spirit in our midst.

Sometimes people discount their own experience because it doesn't seem as dramatic or engaging as other people's experiences, but that is far from the truth. What is "ordinary" is often the most extraordinary thing. Everyone has a story to tell.

Also, the act of bearing witness means that we have to keep our eyes open to the world around us. We need to look for where God is operating in our midst. If we are going to witness to God's moving we need to be sensitive to it. This isn't simply the job of clergy or the "professional religious" but the job of every baptized Christian. We all need to bear witness to the truth. Also, bearing witness to the truth means we can't turn a blind eye to injustice or evil either. We are called to speak up.

So I'm thankful to the General Conference for this change and pray that we will move into a mode of faithful witness to the truth.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 7:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I've been watching the destruction of the old high school from my back window. The deep "boom boom boom" shakes my house like distant thunder or a kid's bass car speakers at 3 in the morning. I walk by the twisted skeletal remains on my way to work and imagine myself in some war torn city.

People have different reactions to the school coming down and it's interesting to see their reactions. Some are angry. Some are gleeful. Some are pensive. Some get choked up. Some have a far away look in their eyes. I spoke to one person who taught in the school years ago and he said he watched them tear apart his room from the sidewalk. When he said this he was positively giddy.

I'm reminded of the passage from Mark 13:1-2 when the disciples, like all tourists in big cities, are gawking at the large buildings in temple complex in Jerusalem. "Look, Teacher! What large stones!" Jesus reminds them that buildings do not last.

It's hard to hear that. Buildings have, in general, lifetimes that exceed the human span. They seem solid, unmovable, permanent, trustworthy. But buildings are transitory. They cannot last. Jesus also said, "where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matthew 6:21) We need to be careful where we place our hearts and how we invest our spirit.

On the other hand, it's good to take care of buildings so that they can accomplish their missions. We need good schools not for the sake of the buildings, but for what happens in them. We need good churches, again, not for the sake of the buildings, but for what happens in and through them. The building, inasmuch as it has a mission, is important. We are fortunate that we have had generations of good caretakers of the building where United Church is housed.

It is a sorrow, however, when the building becomes the mission. Unfortunately, I've seen this happen over and over with churches. The building itself becomes the focus of the community - its restoration or maintenance. It's sad to see that happen. So much energy and time and money going into keeping a building alive which has lost the mission for which it was built. I pray that never happens to our congregation.

I'm reminded of a children's hymn that you've probably heard...

The church is not a building, the church is not a steeple,
the church is not a resting place, the church is a people.
I am the church. You are the church. We are the church together.
All who follow Jesus, all around the world! Yes, we're the church together.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 9:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Here's a very simple proposition... Give 10% of your Stimulus Check to United Church.

Starting in May people will begin to receive their Stimulus Checks from the Federal Government. These checks are being sent out to help stimulate the economy in a time of economic downturn. Well, your church is part of that economy and churches in general have been hurting. All I am asking is that when you receive that $600-$1200 in the next couple months is that you remember your church with a tithe.

The idea of tithing is an old Biblical idea that goes back to the story of Abraham. When he received an unexpected bounty he gave one tenth of it to the priest Melchizedek as a thanksgiving offering. (Genesis 14:18-20)

Many people set tithing (giving 10% of their earnings) as a standard for faithful giving. It is not mandated by scripture, but generosity in giving is always encouraged and hailed as a virtue.

The most recent statistics show that Presbyterians give, on average, 1.5% of their income to the church while United Methodists give 2.1%. Assemblies of God members are, on average, among the most generous givers with 5.25%.

The fact of the matter is that the church operates through your generosity and good will. Please remember United when your check arrives.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Recently a United Methodist pastor from Texas, a well known spiritual advisor to President Bush, endorsed Barack Obama for President. Other pastors have gotten into the endorsement race too, endorsing different candidates. All of which has been fodder for a lot of prayerful thinking on my part.

During the last election cycle several churches got in trouble with the IRS which has threatened to take away their non-profit status over political activity. So I was wondering how these pastors could do this so publicly. The line is kind of a blurry one.

• Pastors may not endorse any candidate or political party from the pulpit or in print in any church publication (using church stationery or in the church newsletter).
• Pastors may, as private citizens, endorse candidates in newspapers, on the sidewalk, in the church parking lot, just not in the pulpit.
• Congregations cannot endorse a candidate or party in any way.
• Churches may hold voter registration drives, as long as they do not endorse any candidate or party.
• Pastors may preach on any issue they wish - social, economic, political.
• Churches may hold forums where candidates are invited to address issues.
• Candidates may be introduced in worship services.
• Churches may be used as polling places.

Now, many of you know that I am a politically aware and involved individual. I even was the campaign manager for a county commission seat a few years ago. I have some strong opinions about political matters, but you won't hear me in church or in the public arena using my clergy status to support any candidate. I just don't think it's wise.

First of all, I'm the pastor of everyone at United and I bet we don't all agree on political matters. I don't want my politics to become a stumbling block. While I am sure we can all agree to disagree agreeably, if I went and endorsed a candidate as a pastor for any political office, local or national, there would be rifts. I just don't see any upside to that.

Second of all, it's really not important. To me the job of being a pastor is not linked to my political identity. Most people when I visit them in the hospital don't care what my political leanings are. They want someone to listen to them and pray with them. I can do that.

Third of all, it's not the area of my expertise. I'm a Bible Scholar and a Spiritual Advisor, not a Political Pundit. I also don't walk onto construction sites and give the contractors there tips on plumbing or electrical wiring. I don't go into your kitchen and tell you how to bake a ham. It's not my forte.

All this said, I think as good citizens we all have political opinions. I don't have to divorce myself from politics. In fact, my faith calls for me to be active in social policy with issues of economic justice, the pursuit of peaceful resolution to conflicts, environmental stewardship, and the just and ethical use of resources. Inasmuch as these are political issues they are also deeply spiritual issues.

So as we go to caucus and expect a good and healthy political debate in the year to come, do not expect me to be wearing a button for any candidate on my stole, but I may be leafleting your house sans collar.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I was shocked with the recent senseless killing spree of Matthew Murray. I was equally shocked when he encountered resistance at New Life Church in Colorado Springs from an armed security guard. When I heard that I wondered, "What kind of church has an armed security guard on duty?"

New Life Church is a megachurch with thousands of members. It was led, until recently, by the Rev. Ted Haggard who was a major figure in the evangelical movement until he was removed because of allegations of homosexual encounters with a prostitute and drug abuse.

The armed guard was Jeanne Assam, a former police officer from Minneapolis, who was licensed to carry her weapon. She was also, presumably, well trained in firearms safety.

Still, I have to ask, am I the only one troubled by the idea of armed guards at churches? Am I the only one who sees an issue with confronting firepower with firepower as being an odd reading of the gospel?

The media seems to be rushing to praise Assam as a hero whose actions prevented many innocent deaths. Maybe that's so. I can't say. But what does it say about our faith when we have to station armed guards at the doors of our churches?

Perhaps I am naive. But I am not speaking without some experience. I and my family were held up at gunpoint at my church in November 1999. Admittedly, the gunman was not out for blood, he was out for money, which I gladly gave - the four bucks I had in my pocket. I play over that scene over and over again in my mind wondering what I could have done differently or if I should have done anything differently. I also wonder what difference it would make if I had been packing at the time.

In Romans 12 Paul writes, "Do not repay anyone evil for evil... never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God." But, a few verses later, in Romans 13 he writes, "if you do what is wrong, you should be afraid, for the authority does not bear the sword in vain!"

So my soul remains troubled by this story and I hope your spirit will be with my spirit in prayer. Let us pray for those who think violence is the only answer to the problem, whether perpetrator or protector.

Please leave your own comments or thoughts about this.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I have this button which I put on this time of year that says "The Virgin Mary Was an Unwed Teenage Mother." I don't remember where or when I bought it, but I know why - because it is provocative and because it is true.

I like it because it makes me enter into the Christmas story in a new way, through the eyes of a young girl who has no more idea how her future will unfold than we do. It's easy to look back on history and admire people because we know how the story turns out. When you are in the midst of events you don't have that luxury.

I also like it because it makes me look at events around me in a new way. So often society writes off people like unwed teenage mothers - pities them, scorns them, shuns them, panders to them - and there are a lot of statistical reasons why...

• More than 75 percent are on welfare within five years of the birth of their first child.
• Only about one teenage mother in four ever completes high school.
• Seven out of ten marriages fail among women who had a baby while in their teens.
• The sons of teenage mothers are 13 percent more likely to end up in prison.
• The daughters of teen mothers are 22 percent more likely to become teen mothers themselves.

The deck is so stacked against them that we often forget the potential there. We stop seeing the beloved person created in the image of God and we only see a mass of statistics.

The story of Christmas is for the people who are in most need of good news, those whose lives have taken a bad turn. It's a story of new hope for the hopeless.

May this season be a blessing to you and those whose lives are intertwined with yours.

[Statistics from intheknow.com.]

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 12:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just finished watching season one of Heroes on DVD. It's not your typical show about people with superhuman power. These aren't people dressing up in capes and tights, these are people trying to pay rent and make sense out of the hand life has dealt them and, oh yeah, some of them can walk through walls or travel through time or heal from almost any injury.

Central to the first season is the knowledge of coming disaster in the form of a nuclear explosion that will destroy half of New York. The questions that drive the action are basically spiritual questions: Can the future be changed? What is my responsibility to the world around me? Who is my family? Who can I trust? How do I become the hero I'm meant to be? What is true power?

Early on, a messenger from the future brings a cryptic mission to one of the main characters - "Save the Cheerleader, Save the World." This cause and effect statement seems so incongruous it's almost laughable. The hero is sent on a mission to rescue a young girl 1500 miles away, seemingly unconnected to the impending disaster, but, in fact, turns out to be the lynchpin to history.

This reflects a profound truth about our faith. How do we save the world? One cheerleader, one tax accountant, one plumber, one assembly line worker at a time. We are tempted to believe that we have to have a powerful job or a lot of money to effect change, but the truth at the heart of Heroes is that it is the small things that count.

Jesus lived this spiritual truth. Though he was tempted in the desert to wield power to dominate or enthrall the masses, he instead took the path of service meeting people individually at their point of need. He was an unconventional hero. He didn't raise an army, he didn't run for office, he didn't have a fortune, but he did have compassion.

Be a hero. Save the world. Your opportunity is closer than you think.

[Heroes contains some graphic material that may not be suitable for young or sensitive viewers.]

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 4:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My son, Simon, just finished a summer of Pee Wee League baseball this week. He improved a lot over the summer and learned the important skill of how to run to first base.

First, you have to unencumber yourself. The first time he ran to first in a game he took the bat most of the way with him before he remembered to discard it. While the bat was essential to set in motion the events that allowed him to run to first, the bat is no longer useful and, in fact, is a detriment for the actual act of running to first.

Second, you have to detach yourself. Once the ball is hit, it's gone. You no longer have any control over it. It's tempting to watch the ball, its trajectory, its journey, whether it's caught or not, but what if it is? You can't do anything about that. you have to detach yourself from it.

Third, focus yourself on the goal. Unencumbered and detached, you now only have one objective. Run to first. That is your only goal. The ball may get there before you, it may not. That doesn't matter. This is no time for distractions or half-hearted effort. Run!

Once you get to first safely then is the time for further evaluation. Are you out? Are you safe? Do you need to run further? Many permutations and possibilities can be considered, but only after you've made it to first.

I've learned a lot from my son this summer.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 9:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"I saw objects in the air that didn't belong there." - Melissa Hughes, MPR article

Oddly yesterday morning, some 9 hours before the Minneapolis bridge collapsed, I was reading about the history of London Bridge. A bridge of some sort has spanned that portion of the Thames since 60 AD when the Romans first put up a wood structure there. And we all know the song.

Objects in the air.

What strikes me is how much we operate on faith. Faith in bridges, that these objects that span water in air grounded to earth will carry us safely time after time and we don't even think about it. Why should we?

Objects in the air.

And what I love is the audacity of the human race that we impose our will on our geography. Rivers, mountains, deserts, air, space... all are daunting, but not barriers. We launch our minds to span the breech, whatever it may be.

Objects in the air that don't belong there.

[photo by ebrandt78]

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 9:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

For those of you who haven't yet read the seventh Harry Potter book, some mild spoilers follow.

For those of you who haven't read any Harry Potter books, this essay will still make some sense. It revolves around Draco Malfoy, a bully and sometimes antagonist to Harry. Draco spends the seven books either bullying the weak with his posse of dim-witted heavies or kissing up to those he estimates are powerful.

In the the Deathly Hallows, the last book in the series, Draco, in spite of his worst intentions and best efforts to reclaim favor with Voldemort (the chief bad guy), is spared his life many times through the actions of others, often at great peril to themselves. He is often oblivious to this or, if he has some inkling of sacrifices that have been made for him, he is ungrateful.

In short, he is a sycophantic, self-centered, power-hungry brat who has an overdeveloped sense of his own entitlement. I shake my head at Draco and wonder if he has any idea what people have sacrificed for him, and yet he shows no gratitude, no remorse.

And, wondering this, I realize that I have more in common with Draco than I'd like to think. Oh, I wouldn't describe myself as a bully, but am I really aware of the sacrifices that have been made for me through the years, directly or indirectly? Am I grateful enough for the happy circumstances that surround my existence? Do I treat those around me according to the grace I have been given?

Some may be disturbed that Malfoy doesn't get more of a comeuppance at the end of Deathly Hallows, that he has received unmerited grace over and over again. And yet we live too in that grace. Over and over again we have received benefits which we do not deserve, forgiveness that we do not merit, sustenance for which we did not toil.

So I end the series with some chagrin, recognizing the Draco within, and vowing to be more grateful, more humble, and more joyful for the life I have.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 10:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Fear can be an excellent motivator. A couple years ago a member of my family was suffering from some heart problems. Knowing that heart problems run in my family, I took a cold hard look at myself and realized that I needed to lose weight, and sooner rather than later.

My motivator? Fear. Mortal fear.

As I got into an exercise regimen I realized other benefits, positive benefits. I felt better, had more energy, it was meditative, and all of the comments about my losing weight were a boost to my ego. Fear was eclipsed as a motivator by more positive motivations.

Likewise, while fear may be why some people initially get involved in improving their spiritual health, I don't believe that in the long run it is a good sustaining motivator.

In 2 Timothy 1:7 it says "God did not give us a spirit of fear, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline."

Bernard of Clairvaux, a monk of the 12th century, wrote of the "four degrees of love," which, succinctly, are:

1. We love ourselves for our own sake. We are born selfish and we look to our own needs first. But we begin to realize that the world is bigger than just ourselves and, further, that we are mortal, and so we turn to God and...

2. We love God for our own sake. We know that we are not sufficient and we must turn to God, motivated primarily by fear. But in our relationship with God we come to know God not as a tyrannical judge, but as loving and merciful, and so...

3. We love God for God's sake. We move beyond fear into mature love, where we are no long self centered, but other centered. And in this loving relationship we awaken to the knowledge that...

4. We love ourselves for God's sake. We move around full circle and see ourselves as beloved children of God.

We need to respect the fact that we all need to move through these stages at our own particular pace. And while we can encourage each other in God's spirit of love, we also need to be patient with each other and with ourselves.

Blessings in your journey.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 11:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I believe in the transformative power of Church Camp. It's a great chance to lie big.

Let me explain.

As I was growing up there was a great camp that I'd go to every year and I got well known there. My younger brother, when he started, didn't just want to be known as my little brother, so we cooked up an alias for him. We gave him the last name of "Fisher" and he became just another person from my church. We look sufficiently different so that no one would suspect differently. For that week we were not brothers, but just friends.

And, the fact of the matter was, my brother and I needed to learn how to be friends. We were not always the most loving of siblings. So, it was kind of an experiment for us as well. There were no expectations that we should treat each other any certain way. Interestingly enough, the big lie gave Dan enough room to be himself and I started to appreciate him in a different way. My brother and I now, as adults, are fast friends, and part of it had to do with that week at camp.

And, while it's not usually so dramatic, I've seen kids try out new personalities and try new things at camp all the time. Because they are out of their normal context they get a chance to literally become new creations. And they lie big. "I'm not afraid of heights." "I'm a good artist." "I like to sing." "I like broccoli." "I can be friends with my brother." "I'm good at sports." The fun thing is how many of these "lies" turn out to be true. Camp gives them permission to transgress their own self-imposed boundaries in good and healthy ways. It's a tabula rosa on which new personalities can be written.

So, my hope for all of those who are going to camp this summer, youth and adults, is that you'll live out the the things you would hope were true about you, even if you suspect they aren't. Be open to the truth God is calling you to and live boldly in Christ.

See you at camp!

[ The picture is of the Oak Grove Presbyterian Church Youth Group at Presbyterian Clearwater Forest. ]

Posted by ironic1 at 10:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I love a good summer blockbuster. I go to the movies to escape and enjoy a rollicking good time. I had just such plans when my kids and I went to see Spiderman 3 this past week, but I got a bit more than that.

The formula for your basic comic book flick is what is often called the Myth of Redemptive Violence. It works like this:

1) The world is at peace.
2) An evil arises that upsets the balance of this peaceful world.
3) A hero arises to confront the evil and vanquishes it and the world returns to its normal peaceful state.

This should sound familiar. It's the plot of many of our cultural stories, from Popeye to Superman, and it's widely espoused by politicians. It's also markedly UnChristian. In the Christian worldview:

1) The world is not at peace, but needs to be redeemed.
2) Evil is not external, but is part of us all.
3) Violence will not vanquish the evil for violence is the problem, not the solution.

I was amazed that all of the above themes are present in Spiderman 3. I don't want to spoil the film for any who haven't seen it, but Peter Parker's struggle is with himself as much as any external foe and the key to bringing peace is not violence, but forgiveness.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 12:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

From the files of Random Childhood Memories: I couldn't have been more than 8. My family was on vacation and I remember my parents wanted to take us to some sort of roadside attraction where they recreated the story of the Wizard of Oz. I think the sign said something like "Join Dorothy on her journey to Oz!" or something like that. I can't tell you how it was because I refused to go.

In my kid brain I had some facts. I knew the story of the Wizard of Oz. I knew how Dorothy got to Oz. I knew the devastating power and unpredictability of tornadoes. And there was no way I was going to get into one of them, no matter how safe my parents said it would be. Frankly, I thought they'd lost their minds. How could they assure me that a tornado would be safe?

Continue reading "Your World - Torn Apart" »

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 7:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Jesus just won't do what he's told.

He won't hate the people the crowds want him to hate. He won't condemn the people the pharisees want him to condemn. He won't heal people on the right days. And when all is said and done, when the authorities are fed up with him and decide to kill him, he won't stay dead.

There's only one word for this kind of behavior. Jesus is ornery.

My grandmother used to call me "ornery" and I always thought it was a peculiar word. She said it with a wink that said to me, "You really frustrate me sometimes, but you're okay." She also called me a "stick in the mud" and I'm still trying to figure out what that means.

Some people are under the mistaken impression that the goal of Christianity is to make people submissive and compliant to the powers-that-be. Well, they are in good company. Great thinkers like Friedrich Nietzsche thought the same. But they couldn't be more mistaken. If following Christ means to be imitators of Christ then we submit to God's will and that alone. As such we will often find ourselves on the ornery side of the government, society, the marketplace, and, yes, religious institutions.

Wendell Berry, a good Presbyterian farmer poet from Kentucky, challenges his readers in his poem "Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front" to "practice resurrection." Not just celebrate resurrection or consider the implications of resurrection or debate the veracity of resurrection, but to practice it. What does that mean? Well, I leave the interpretation up to each reader. That's what poetry is for, to challenge and provoke. But for this reader it means to remember that death is not the final word, that we answer to a power even greater than death.

This Easter, as we celebrate Christ's victory over death, may Jesus' ornery spirit be with us.

Continue reading "Ornery Spirituality" »

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 10:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

"What are you giving up for Lent?" is a very popular question this time of year.

I've never liked that question, honestly, because it focuses on a negative. It's passive rather than active. I'd much rather the question be -

"What are you wrestling with for Lent?"

Now we're talking! Who doesn't like a good wrestling match? It's energetic and colorful. My Great-Grandmother Petry, a very pious woman who looked down on things like card-playing and dancing, loved to watch wrestling. "Watch" is a misnomer, really. She yelled and screamed as if she were there in the crowd. Wrestling has no passive participants or spectators.

And there is good Biblical precedent for this. Jacob wrestles with God (or an angel, depending on how you read it) in Genesis 32. He is struggling inwardly at that time with his deceit and his identity. This becomes an outward struggle when encounters this holy presence.

Fasting should be an active and holy struggle. I encourage you to pick a fast that will challenge you.

Here are some possibilities for fasts that I have heard people doing. Note that not all of them are about giving up something. Some of them are about taking on a discipline.

• Give up or limit watching television.
• Give up eating meat.
• Give up sleeping on a bed. - Two of our youngsters in our church have done this recently as a discipline in solidarity with children who don't have such comforts.
• Read a chapter (or more) of scripture daily.
• Give up computer or video games. - I did this one Lent. It nearly killed me.
• Eat at least one piece of fresh fruit a day.
• Fast one meal a week and give money to charity instead.
• Walk a mile a day.
• Give up caffeine. - This was always my family fast when I was growing up.
• Give up eating out.
• Limit how much gasoline you use in a week.
• Limit your internet time to an hour a day.

I'd encourage you to consider a fast that would be challenging to you. Obviously fasts are not one size fits all. While giving up computer games may have been difficult for me, for people who never play them it would not be a burden at all. Likewise, I almost never watch television in the first place so giving it up would be nothing for me.

I'd be interested in hearing about your own challenges in fasting, past or present, and your suggestions for fasts. Please comment!

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

You see one every year, with puffy cheeks and diaper, often wearing a top hat with the new year emblazoned on the band. As the aged old year dies a natural death, this avatar of the new year takes over. We symbolize the dawning of a new year with a baby, an icon of hope and potential, but also one of vulnerability and immaturity. And this, I think, speaks to our ambivalence of the turning of the calendar. We are hopeful and we are guarded too.

My son, Simon, was baptized on New Year's Day as an infant. It was a good way to start a new year, baptizing a baby, for all the reasons mentioned above and more. The fact that we baptize infants is an act of audacious hope and resignation. In the act of baptism we recognize that while our choices matter, things are largely out of our control. We baptize not as a sign of our own power, but of our powerlessness and God's sovereignty.

A great deal is made of vows at baptism, just as we make resolutions at New Year's. I will lose weight. I will write more. I will budget better. I will resist evil. I will fight injustice. And so on. And we know what happens to those vows and resolutions, even in the best of circumstances and with the best of intentions. But the point of baptism and, I'd argue, the point of a new year is not what we do, but what God does.

When Simon was baptized it was after a horrible year of cancer and tough decisions. There was no guarantee that Simon would make it into this world alive or intact. The fact that he is at all is a miracle, a very humbling miracle. His baptism in a new year marked a new beginning of hope for us. I was overwhelmed in the sacrament with the realization that he does not belong to me. Nor is he his own. He belongs to God. As his parent I am his guardian, teacher, and steward, but never his owner.

Can we think the same of the New Year Baby in the same light? This new year does not belong to us. It is profoundly and ultimately God's. It's potential is tied up with our potential. It's vulnerability is also ours. But we are mistaken if we think we can call it our own, that we earned it somehow. This new year is a gift put into our charge for awhile and then taken away.

And so, with that, I wish you a blessed New Year. May it be holy.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 12:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

If we didn't have Christmas we'd have to invent it.

For some reason this year I seem even more aware of the pressing shadows of shortening days. Darkness, like a vice, squeezes in on my day making it shorter and shorter. And the light from the sun in its southern journey is muted and lazy, as if the sunbeams when they finally get to us are too tired to really shine. This season makes the raw light from a fire or a candle all the more welcomed.

Biblical archeologists mostly agree that Jesus was probably not born in December but sometime in the spring, but never mind that. Christmas is not about historical accuracy, it's about our need for light in the dark times.

Light is no longer the precious commodity that it once was. We no longer have to work for light. In fact, we have to work hard to get away from sources of light.

Last month the Confirmation Class and I went to Clearwater Forest for a retreat and our first night there we took a night hike. I took along one flashlight but I told them we weren't going to use it unless it was absolutely needed.

"How will we see?" they asked.

"Your eyes will adjust. Work on your night vision."

We were amazed at how much we could see. The night sky is not black but a cacophony of colors. The stars were so bright that when we looked away from the night sky our eyes still burned with their images. When we returned from our night sojourn the light seemed doubly bright.

In Advent we are reminded that we walk in darkness. In Christmas we celebrate a light that shines in the darkness, a light that illumines our way. Those who have walked in darkness will appreciate it even more. Those who are inundated with artificial light may not even recognize its coming.

Blessings to you on your Advent and Christmas journey.

Posted by Lawrence Lee at 9:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)