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NEXT Church 2012

I was lucky enough to join around 600 other Presbyterians at NEXT 2012 this week, a leadership conference for Presbyterians this year held at First Presbyterian Church in Dallas. It was an exceptional experience.

It’s difficult to describe exactly what NEXT is, but I’d sum it up as a “frame of mind” (and paraphrase the closing sermon today) — NEXT is an urgent hope for living into a creative, innovative, and faithful future for the PCUSA.

Conferences like NEXT are like drinking from a fire hose, so I won’t even attempt to fully reflect at this early juncture. For now, here’s a few off-the-cuff responses…

  • it’s refreshing to meet as a large gathering of PCUSA folks and not bicker about ordination standards and General Assembly business
  • it’s liberative to be with a group of folks certain that the church needs to engage in adaptive change, and soon. While much (most?) of the church seems either in despair about the changes affecting the church and culture, or just in denial, those gathered at NEXT seemed to welcome the exciting newness.
  • the Twitter conversation #NextChurch provided a great way of processing and connecting with others in real time
  • it’s wonderful to see so many big steeple PCUSA pastors providing the support (and funds) behind NEXT, but also handing over leadership to younger folks. The opening worship service was led almost entirely by 20/30-somethings, and all leadership skewed much younger than the PCUSA in general.
  • I’ve never seen such a wide array of workshops — it was crazy-hard to chose which two to attend
  • it’s a true joy to reconnect with friends, and to meet “in real life” those with whom you’ve interacted online
  • Presbyterian worship can really rock — with old hymns and new songs, strong liturgy, out-of-the-park preaching, deeply-felt prayer, and on and on….
  • it’s great to attend conferences at which one has no leadership responsibilities whatsoever!

That’s a super-quick summary of what got me ticking these last two days. It’s wonderful to say that I have a renewed hope and excitement for what God is doing in the PCUSA. Thank you to all who organized, hosted, led, tweeted, and attended NEXT Church 2012. I hope to see you next year, and perhaps at regional gatherings in the coming months. In the meantime, be sure to like the NEXT Facebook page.

If you attended NEXT, what did you take away?

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Review: Heidi Campbell’s, “When Religion Meets New Media”

This post is part of my Independent Study in Religious Communication and Digital Life at the University of North Dakota. See a description of the course here, and review of Understanding Digital Culture here.

When I talk about new media in church contexts, the lens or framework people use as they speak of technology says a lot about the direction of the conversation. Some people, such as those who think the church should change to attract new younger members, praise technology for its amazing capabilities. Others, such as those suspicious that there is too much change in the church will speak of the deleterious effects of technology. Such conversations can become difficult to moderate, but the task will be easier for me now that I’ve read Heidi Campbell’s When Religion Meets New Media.

Campbell draws from an impressive array of experiences, studies, and faith traditions for her book, including in-person study of Jewish, Muslim, and Christian communities. After helpfully summarizing the history of religion’s interactions with the internet, Campell launches into the books major contribution, a term she calls “the religious-social shaping of technology.”

The religious-social shaping of technology accounts for how religious communities approach technologies and how technologies are then encountered in light of the community’s beliefs and practices. Campbell argues that religious communities negotiate a way of interacting with technology and that this negotiation process can be studied with an analytical framework considering 1) the history and tradition of a given community, 2) the core beliefs, patterns, and values of a community, 3) the negotiation process through which religious communities go as they encounter technologies, and 4) the communal framing and discourse about a technology. As Campbell shows, sometimes through this process religious communities actually bring about technological changes (such as the “kosher” cell phone) even as they elect to appropriate technology in their communities.

The book contains a thorough and fairly in-depth description of what led Campbell to come to her framework, and a chapter is devoted to each of the four areas above. Campbell’s fieldwork in ultra-orthodox areas in Israel was most interesting to me, as it clearly backed her points and also helped me gain a fuller perspective of that community.

In the chapter on negotiation with new media Campbell includes longer case studies on evangelical approaches to the internet, and the Anglican presence in Second Life. A little later on she discusses the Christian emerging church movement (which I have followed fairly closely through my work with Presbymergent) claiming that the use of the internet by the movement “affirms the community itself” (150). She (rightfully, I think) makes the case that how the emerging church movement embraces and negotiated the internet actually reflected their values, theology, and history.

Campbell’s book was a really helpful overview and framework for me to have at the ready as my study of religion and new media continues. Her careful work with particular communities of faith is helpful, but I wonder how far we can take it. For instance, Campbell notes that individuals can buck the trend of a community, which would obviously present research challenges. Furthermore, I wonder about how “community of faith” is best defined and measured for, say, people like myself. Would claim my community as US mainline denominations, the ELCA since I work for them, progressive PC(USA) congregations, one congregation itself, or even a young adult group of a particular congregation? It’s much easier, I suppose, to study a religious community ensconced in a geographical area that claims a very conservative way of life, but things get murkier when communities overlap and defy clear boundaries and definitions.

Nevertheless, When Religion Meets New Media presents a valuable framework for further consideration, and a really helpful elucidation and description from Campbell’s research. I commend it to religious communication scholars and those interested in the interplay of internet communication technologies and religion.

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A place we don’t recognize anymore

A current Minnesota Public Radio promotional clip includes short phrases from several politicians’ recent speeches. One of them is Mitt Romney saying, “If we don’t step up, our country is going to turn into something we can’t recognize anymore” (approximate quote from memory). On MPR the quote plays without any context re the larger speech, but even so, it has great resonance with me (resonance, in a “sure folks think that” sort of way, not an “I agree” way). In fact, it’s a handy quick lens to explore perspectives on change in church, society, and politics.

Society is changing; it does look very different than it used to. The now famous picture from yesterday’s congregational hearing of all men testifying at a congressional panel on women’s reproductive health is ridiculous to most folks today, but common procedure not too long ago. The US Military today has many female troops, openly gay soldiers, and is incredibly racially diverse. We have a black President. Entire books can be downloaded wirelessly to handheld electronic devices in seconds. The US will enjoy no racial majority by 2040. Doctors rarely diagnose without fancy machines laypeople can’t understand. And, by golly, even PBS is cool these days.

The church, of course, is changing too. It is also becoming a place some folks don’t recognize, and for complicated reasons:

  • on Sundays many young families are opting for soccer practice, or chill time, rather than worship
  • neighborhood demographics have changed around many of our churches
  • Biblical literacy is way down
  • young pastors carry thousands of dollars worth of school debt
  • the church’s moral authority has waned
  • a lot of folks actually like music composed in the last 25 years, and many of these pieces don’t have traditional rhyme schemes, meters, or predictable western tunes
  • denomination budgets and membership stats have declined for years

I don’t want to draw too much of a false dichotomy between those who welcome our country turning into something “we don’t recognize anymore” and those who fear it. After all, I’m not exactly a fan of change (I’m Presbyterian). But even though change sometimes makes me uncomfortable, I do really like to grow, to be pushed to new understandings, to be made to admit that the status quo is not as fair, faithful, or good as I thought it was.

I’m happy to admit that a common result following a change I don’t immediately support is pretty fantastic results. (I think of my friends who have just had a child, or are expecting. Their worlds are changing in ways totally unrecognizable, and it’s welcome!)

The church has been around for 2000 years. We’ll manage. The US has been around for 250 years. We’ll manage. Rather than change I won’t recognize, I’m more afraid of getting stuck in a deep unjust rut that we all recognize, but which we ultimately despise.

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The glory of repurposing space

Much of the tension in the second season of Downtown Abbey has to do with the fact that the great house has been turned into a respite care center for army officers. This novel use of the space, coupled with so many new people about, provides a wonderfully entertaining storyline. In a weird way, it’s spurred me to reflect on the use of space for faith-related practices.

When church leaders repurpose space, good things often follow.

I think of Broad Street Ministry in Philadelphia that holds worship in a gorgeous old church, but one in which all pews have been removed. The hodgepodge of chairs can be arranged in any which way–it’s hard to find two chairs alike–and the space can easily welcome art installations, shows, and theater. Worshipping in that sanctuary necessarily gets one thinking about the edginess of the gospel, and the way God pushes our boundaries. Each service concludes when tables are set up in the middle of the sanctuary and all join in a meal.

I think of the Theology Pubs which The Project F-M holds in a basement of a local bar/restaurant. We gather to talk about faith and theology, but the setting and the beverages communicate that our conversations can be real, open, and free in a way many church meeting rooms aren’t. People who wouldn’t think of going to church come happily. Pastors who work all day at a church, embrace the change of scene.

I think of the Easter Vigil held at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Atlanta. During the service, worshipers actually journey from sanctuary to fellowship hall and to several other areas of the campus. Near the end of the service, all the worshipers gather outside the sanctuary behind its thick closed doors. About midnight the pastor exclaims, “Christ is risen,” and bangs on the doors of the church with a huge brick. They spring open. The organ, at full blast, plays celebratory music and the worshipers rush to the communion table–yes, Lutherans run to the the communion table. All gather round the table to join singing “Alleluia” and dance a circle dance. The Eucharist is celebrated. Then, out of nowhere, the same Eucharistic table is set with a feast of cookies, fresh fruit, coffee, champagne (if I remember right), and chocolates.

Surely there are more examples: when church gyms become homeless shelters, when sunday school rooms are transformed into free clinics, when office break rooms become prayer stations.

Repurposing space takes time, openness, and a willingness to fail. I wish it happened more often because, when it does, we often catch a glimpse of what God is up to.

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Now THIS is Leadership

It’s easy to find Christian leaders who think too highly of themselves (Eddie Long, comes to mind). The media loves covering these folks, especially when they fall (in part because the media loves outing hypocrites). But we all should wonder: if Christians are supposed to be humble, and love one another — even their enemies — then why is it so easy to find counter examples?

Well, here’s an example of Christian humility squared. You have probably seen Jefferson Bethke’s provocative video, “Why I love Jesus, but hate religion.” It’s garnered 18 million hits on YouTube. I won’t go into the details of Jeff’s claims except to say that it does a wonderful job of provoking one to think. Whether you agree or not with the video, that is a mark of great art.

Instead, I want to briefly share a story of humility and leadership. Recently Pastor Kevin DeYoung, of University Reformed Church in East Lansing, Michigan posted a long exegesis of Jeff’s spoken word poem. The post was incredibly thorough, examining Jeff’s work verse by verse, and critiquing pretty much every statement. Pastor Kevin wanted to right the misconceptions that Jeff’s poem creates, and he did a good job as the post has been shared on Facebook nearly 40,000 times. But even while  Pastor Kevin critiqued, pushed, and prodded at every point of Jeff’s poem, he kept an open-minded, kind, and gentle tone. He modeled how to critique in love.

Well, through the magic of the internet, Jeff somehow found Kevin’s post. Jeff read it. Took it in. And corresponded via phone and email with Pastor Kevin. Jeff did not excoriate the pastor on Facebook, or immediately delete his email. Instead, Jeff carefully considered Kevin’s points, and he re-evaluated his own position. Remember, this is Jeff who just posted a video that received 18 million hits. But, even so, between interviews and morning show appearances, Jeff gave time, thought, and careful reflection to a pastor’s blog post, a pastor who lives thousands of miles away, who he’s never met.

Pastor Kevin, with permission, posted some of Jeff’s initial response via email. I’ll paste it below. Whenever I hear Christians rushing to judgement, or spouting-off anger before they think through a response, I hope I’ll think of this exchange. Thank you, Jeff and Kevin, for modeling humble, open-minded, kind-hearted leadership.

I just wanted to say I really appreciate your article man. It hit me hard. I’ll even be honest and say I agree 100%. God has been working with me in the last 6 months on loving Jesus AND loving his church. For the first few years of walking with Jesus (started in ’08) I had a warped/poor paradigm of the church and it didn’t build up, unify, or glorify His wife (the Bride). If I can be brutally honest I didn’t think this video would get much over a couple thousand views maybe, and because of that, my points/theology wasn’t as air-tight as I would’ve liked. If I redid the video tomorrow, I’d keep the overall message, but would articulate, elaborate, and expand on the parts where my words and delivery were chosen poorly… My prayer is my generation would represent Christ faithfully and not swing to the other spectrum….thankful for your words and more importantly thankful for your tone and fatherly like grace on me as my elder. Humbled. Blessed. Thankful for painful growth. Blessings.

Grace and Peace,
Jeff

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Review: Vincent Miller’s “Understanding Digital Culture”

As part of my Independent Study, “Religious Communication and Digital Life” this semester at UND, I recently read Vincent Miller’s “Understanding Digital Culture.” It turns out that it’s difficult to write a review with the audience of both professor and blog readers in mind, but I need to do this before I get it confused with the digital religion book I’m currently reading. So, here comes a hybrid review/reflection of sorts.

Miller’s book is a good overview of digital culture. A sociologist by trade, Miller certainly uses that lens often, but it’s really an interdisciplinary work, looking at digital issues from multiple perspectives. Since his task is to describe the field rather than make a particular argument, I can’t quote a provocative thesis, but the text, “strives to integrate and made explicit the link between the more economically-based ‘information society’ literature and literature emerging from cultural studies that focuses on the production, use and consumption of digital media and multimedia” (9).

Each of the nine chapters takes on a different aspect of digital culture with helpful sub-headings and extensive summaries of authors’ arguments with shorter quotations from their work. Miller does well to consider multiple sides of each topic.

For instance, in the chapter “Digital Inequality: Social, Political and Infrastructural Contexts” Miller considers digital divides from the point of view of practice, economic, and theoretical perspectives. Then he expands the conversation beyond the US and Europe to a discussion of digital divides in the developing world, and how those have emerged differently than in the US due to the relatively low cost of setting up mobile phone networks. But Miller does not stop there. He also considers how such phones “are potentially empowering to farmers, fisherman and other people who produce market goods” in the developing world (108).

Having read Pramond Nayar’s “An Introduction to New Media and Cybercultures,” much of Miller’s material was somewhat familiar to me, but I found Miller’s broad perspective helpful in expanding my understanding. Generally speaking, Miller gives more history and economic background than Nayar, though the books work well together. Nayar tends to emphasize cultural understandings a bit more than Miller.

Three Ideas from “Understanding Digital Culture” that I’ll Keep Mulling

  • In a chapter on understanding key elements of digital media, Miller describes the work of Walter Benjamin on the implications of reproducing cultural objects such as art, music, film, even nature. Technology makes it possible to, for instance, reproduce the sound of an orchestra but in doing so something is lost, what Benjamin called “aura” – “the feeling of awe or reverence created by being in the presence of unique or remarkable objects” (23). I wonder then about what these theories of Benjamin would have to say about current discussions in the church on whether something is lost when preachers give sermons via Skype, or sacraments are celebrated out of the context of tradition worship services.
  • In a discussion about the contrast between what is “virtual” and what is “reality,” Miller helpfully points to the work of Shields who argues, “the virtual is in opposition to the concrete, not in opposition to the real, and that reality in fact is always part virtual in everyday concrete, as well as electronic instances. The virtual is real, but not actual” (33). Miller actually links this discussion to the debate about whether the bread and wine of communion actually become the body and blood of Christ, or whether they virtually do so. In everyday usage, it’s important to remember that virtual reality is not something to be thrown away as insubstantial, it’s just not concrete reality.
  • Similarly, in a more theoretical portion of the book, Miller explains some poststructuralist/deconstructive online research to break down false distinctions “between the social and the technical, between the real and the virtual, between the public and the private” (167). Most every teenager can tell you that cyber-bullying hurts just as much as bullying in school, so making a false distinction that it is only “virtual” and so not real would be unhelpful and just plain silly.

So, if you’re looking for an academic but very readable overview of digital culture, where it comes from, what theory is behind it, what economies are driving it, and what sociology, cybertheory, media studies scholars are writing about it, pick up a copy of Miller’s book. It’s thought-provoking and a solid overview of an exciting field.

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No Need for Church | The Christian Century

An essay of mine, “No Need for Church: Ministry with young adults in flux” is published in the Feb 8, 2012 edition of The Christian Century. A teaser is posted below, which is also available to all readers on the Century website. To read it in full, find a dead tree edition, or subscribe and gain full online access.

Within the metro area of Fargo, North Dakota, and Moorhead, Minnesota, are scores of vital mainline churches. So why are 45,000 young adults—close to a quarter of the entire population—not connected to any of them?

In economic terms, it’s not a supply-side issue; there’s simply no demand for church from the young adults. In my new call as developer of young adult ministry in the Fargo-Moorhead area, I’ve been meeting and talking with young adults in area pubs and coffee shops. After only a dozen conversations, it became clear that what many mainline churches here offer—the worship, the programs, the intergenerational community—fails to connect with many in their twenties and thirties. Perhaps this was predictable, but for me, a 28-year-old pastor called to work with other young adults, it’s been a troubling discovery….

For the full piece, visit: The Christian Century website.

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