HolyCity Debuts in F-M. What Just Happened?
Cross-posted from The Project F-M
this is a post describing our first worship experience called HolyCity.
Last Sunday The Project F-M curated our first HolyCity event. Beforehand we were pretty sly about what exactly the event would look like. Partly, this was because we hadn’t planned it yet and didn’t really know what would happen, but mainly it’s just because HolyCity is so difficult to describe.
If we called it, “worship” people would get a certain idea that wouldn’t be right. If we called it, “scriptural meditations in a park” people wouldn’t know either (and they might freak out). So, we called it “HolyCity” and used some fun descriptors, hoping people’s curiosity and open-mindedness would bring them out.
Now that we’ve debuted and plan to hold other HolyCity events in the future, I’ll describe what happened last Sunday.
Gathering
We met in a park in Moorhead with picnic tables and green areas for different prayer stations. It was a beautiful day and folks mingled for a time and got to know one another better. We then gathered in a circle and responded to a question about a time when folks felt God’s presence or absence.
Word
I introduced Psalm 85:8-13 (which was the “Lectionary Psalm” for the day, meaning thousands of Christians around the world read that psalm that day in worship). We talked a bit about the context of the writing of the text, and we read the passage out loud. Everyone had a printout of the passage, and we shared out-loud phrases that intrigued us. Then we introduced the prayer stations and folks had 25 minutes or so to experience the stations, each of which had instructions.
Psalm 85:8-13
8 Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts. 9 Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land. 10 Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other. 11 Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky. 12 The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase. 13 Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps.
Prayer stations included:
- Listening to the NPR hourly news summary on iPod or iPad, stopping the newscast at points, and praying “Lord draw near…”
- Drumming Psalm 85
- Writing local elected officials considering the psalm’s phrase, “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet, righteousness and peace will kiss each other”
- Creative artistic response with drawing materials
- Examen Prayer (ancient/modern way of meditative prayer)
- Goggling Psalm 85 on a MacBook
- Writing or drawing comments on a poster board on which the whole psalm was written
After time at the stations, we all came together and shared our experiences, read the psalm together again, and then transitioned into communion.
Thanksgiving
I had never led communion before in a public park (nor while thinking in the back of my head, “I hope this goes quickly so the bratwursts on the grill don’t burn!). We remembered Jesus’ first celebration in the upper room in Jerusalem, prayed for the Spirit’s action and the world, and received the holy meal. It was informal, camp-like, and for me at least, powerful. At the end I said, “One meal has ended, and another begins.” We then enjoyed a cookout and potluck.
So that’s a quick description of the first ever Fargo-Moorhead HolyCity — God’s people gathering together, thinking praying laughing eating and creating together, and being sent to look for God’s work in our lives and in our city. It was a modest affair, but a holy one too.
Reworking, Reconsidering, & Re-doing Young Adult Ministry
Also posted at Gathering Voices
I just got in from a lovely block party celebrating National Night Out Block Party Night. At the party several friendly folks asked, “So, what do you do?” I always hesitate a bit when I get that question these days. It’s complicated.
I see myself as part pastor, part faith based community organizer, part event planner, and part sojourner. To answer folks, “I’m starting a new church” is way too simplistic and misleading, since The Project F-M has never really conceived of itself as a traditional church — it’s in response (or reaction) to the traditional church, actually.
Last week I attended the ELCA Mission Developers Conference in Newark, NJ. The conference is held twice a year for new Mission Developers, to help orient them on how the ELCA does mission development (roughly equivalent to “church planting” in other denominations). The conference has a great value in connecting developers to learn from one another, and presenters set some theological framework for starting new faith communities. While much at the conference was plenty good stuff, I struggled at many points thinking, “But this just won’t work with young adults.”
I really appreciated Lara’s thoughtful post yesterday, “What Do We Do With Young Adults?” It gets at some of the contextual challenges of church for folks in their 20s and 30s. And it has me thinking, if I were king of the world and arranging a mission development conference focused on emerging young adult faith communities, what questions and issues would I be sure to tackle?
- Spiritual but not religious - this phrase is used by many of the young adults with whom I speak in one-to-ones. It’s a great phrase because it describes for so many their discomfort with the church. It’s really helpful. I like it. But it’s not particularly descriptive. I’d love to tackle, in a group setting that accepts this phrase as positive (or at least benign), all the facets of its meaning.
- What about the aversion to worship? A lot of the 20-30 somethings I chat with are very spiritual, think about faith often, seek community gatherings, but are really hesitant to be connected to anything called “worship.” I have my theories, but I’d love to hear what the experts think about this, and if it’s an across-the-board phenomenon.
- What’s the right balance between making space that’s open to everyone’s questions and making a space that communicates (broadly speaking) what the Church believes? Pretty self-explanatory. The folks I connect with really want a place to tackle tricky theological issues. But they want a place to ask questions, not be spoon-fed answers. I’d love to hear how other mission developers walk this line — or where they cross it.
- Please don’t emphasize congregational sustainability, stewardship, or looking like the model of churches that have existed for 100 years. This model of a church with 150 members, a 100K annual budget, and shiny building is just dandy for many, but it’s not the mindset of most young adult focused churches I know. The problem is that we know how to pull that traditional one off, but other models are trickier. Thinking outside the box is difficult, and I’d love the opportunity to honestly talk numbers with other emergent mission developers without the assumptions of traditional models.
- How can the unique gifts of young adults these days be put to use for new ways of ministry? I feel like much of the literature around young adults and the church these days is about how young adults are different than other generations. That’s great. It’s certainly true. But most of what I read gets stuck in explaining how, even though things are different, we don’t have to lament. Little I’ve read takes the approach of truly rejoicing in what this generation has to offer the church. How would our conversations look be different if we said, “God has blessed us with a generation that does not accept the B.S. of previous models. Hallelujah! Thanks be to God. Now what?”
If you were planning or going to attend a mission development conference on young adult ministry, what would you hope to tackle?
Explaining the Emergent Church in 500 Words
Churchy stuff carries with it a lot of insider language. What the heck is a “narthex?” What does “ELCA” stand for and how is the “E” for “Evangelical” different from what some call — using a more blanket term — “evangelicals?” And, when you hear the word “worship” are the images that come to mind as do when your neighbor hears “worship?”
I’ve been running into language issues a lot lately, especially concerning my work with The Project F-M, a new faith community begun with the emergent church movement — not solely, but certainly — in mind. But this is difficult to explain to many folks including, say, grandmothers, newspaper reporters, and people outside of Christian faith community. So, here’s 500 words. Not the definitive 500 words on what emergent or emerging church is. Not even true for everyone. But, my 500 words to help explain what my community is/may be about.
Here goes nothing…500 words:
Church has always been intricately — and sometimes dangerously — connected to culture. In recent years, it seems as if culture has changed super fast. Many of these changes have had to do with the flow of information, technology, and a growing awareness of the extent to which people are connected. And, of course, the Church is a party to these changes.
So, a few years back, a group of prominent Christian leaders started wrestling more publicly with some of these changes, particularly those having to do with post-modernism. Borrowed from philosophy, “post-modernism” is an approach to the world that is suspicious of reality, constantly questions (particularly the sacred), and claims an absence of firm truth. It is the world in which we breathe these days.
These Christian leaders began a process of examining their faith and the practices of Christian churches. They sought to have open conversations rather than arriving at immediate conclusions. They held up the importance of non-hierarchical systems. They asked, in short, what it looks like to live out the Christian faith in a post-modern world that questions truth claims and is highly suspicious of institutions — especially the institutional church. While these initial leaders came mainly from more evangelical backgrounds, the conversation quickly moved to many denominations including mainline protestant ones. The ideas, process of discovery, and openness to living faith out in new and authentic was became known as the “emergent church movement.”
Emerging churches and emergent gatherings sprung up — without any central source — and fostered conversations around the nation and world. While the point was not to arrive at common language or ideas, certain commitments came to emphasized including: Christian worship as “organic” or a product of a local community, an emphasis on authenticity, a commitment to theology as something that’s lived-out, lifting up dialogue, wrestling with gray rather than deciding issues as black or white, and a willingness to experiment with fresh ways to gather. The phrase, “we’ve always done it that way” was replaced with, “let’s try something new together.”
After a time, “emergent church” also became synonymous in some circles with “hip young people ideas” or “annoying free thinkers with hazy truth claims.” It seemed as if anything new and different became labeled “emergent.” And, after a few years, much of what emergent thinkers once emphasized as new and different ideas became more widely part of normal conversations in broader theological circles.
Today it’s unclear to me what, if anything, the emergent church is becoming. After all, it’s a conversation, a commitment to openness, a questioning rather than an institution or a denomination. Many new churches, alternative congregations, missional church plants — whatever language you like — intentionally stay away from using words like “emergent church” today. Maybe there’s too much baggage (already). Or maybe there’s too little definition. It’s in this context, however, that I work as a mission developer of a new faith community. We don’t like to be labeled, but it’s good to understand our context.
So that’s my 500 words. What do you think about the emergent church these days? What did I miss? What thinkers do you associate with the movement (then and now)?
image by SP Veres
Searching for the signal
a Thoughtful Christian.com post
Recently I’ve been working a lot with a conference theme, “Searching for the Signal.” By, “a lot” I mean — preaching on it for two weeks, reflecting on a small group manual all about it, enjoying recreation based upon it, and listening to two weeks of keynote sessions addressing it. (I’m enjoying life at the Montreat Youth Conference at the moment.) So, after all this reflection, I’m struck how the theme connects to the different and sometimes seemingly disparate parts of my life.
Let me start outside the organized church, with folks with whom I interact at The Project F-M. In my conversations with people about the Project, many point to signals in their life. But these aren’t generally the sorts of signals church leaders want to embrace. Often, these are signals for why young adults were scared-off from the church, signals of close-minded church leaders who weren’t open to LGBTQ Christians, signals of hypocrites in the church who gave the whole organized religion thing a bad rap. Not always, but often, folks will point to one specific experience, one specific bad signal in the faith that, for them, was reason enough not to have much to do with an organized faith community.
For a smaller group of others, it’s not as if organized religion sends them a bad signal, it’s just not a signal they are searching for. There isn’t some big gaping hole in their life and they say, “If only I went to a worship service every Sunday morning and sang 3 hymns and listened to a 15 minute sermon my life would be perfect.” (Go figure!) The bias of folks who do attend church is often that people who don’t attend church really want to, they just don’t know how. Or that they feel like something is missing in their life. In my conversations, that’s simply not the case. And, in fact, sometimes folks don’t attend church very intentionally, almost as a spiritual practice itself. When I speak to congregations, I try to encourage a posture of openness towards these different spiritual disciplines.
OK, now moving to another group of folks entirely: high school youth at this church conference I’m helping lead in Montreat. For some of them, the week in Montreat marks a turning point in their faith journey, a time when they feel God’s signal as particularly strong. And, for some, they’ll tell me that they felt God’s presence this week in a way they’ve never experienced before, in a way that’s almost palpable, a way where — for a time at least — all doubts faded away.
Now while it might be nice to think these youth’s faith lives will now be happy and simple, that’s definitely not the case. Because, well, they have to go back to their home town, and away from these lovely mountains, and to “normal” life in their home congregations. The Montreat high is very difficult — well, it’s impossible — to keep up. It’s difficult to keep the Montreat high because folks have troubled lives, and church people are just as mean and petty as non-church people. The signals keep coming, but they’re mixed.
And that’s where the two groups come together in my mind. Broadly speaking, let’s say for many in first group there’s been some signal or signals that keeps them skeptical of organized religion. For the other group, there’s been some signal within organized religion (and specifically within a super-organized conference) that is so powerful it makes the everyday nature of church life seem like a letdown.
But, how about this….a significant connection between each of the groups is the search, the journey. What if the common thread of folks is that story of faith consideration, faith questioning, even faith not-caring (if it’s viewed in a way that sees faith not as a static thing but as a process). So, the challenge in my work with The Project F-M is how we can make a safe place for people to continue their search. And the challenge in the church’s work with youth is how we can make church a safe place to continue their journey as well.
Faith life is a journey, a process. If it’s static, something is wrong. So, I wonder, would emphasizing the journey, the search, the movement of faith (or not-faith) be a helpful common denominator for all? And, if so, how?
Book Review: ‘The Hospitality of God: Emergent Worship for a Missional Church’
Article first published as Book Review: The Hospitality of God by Mary Gray-Reeves and Michael Perham on Blogcritics.
In my new work as mission developer for The Project F-M, a new faith community in Fargo-Moorhead, I think a lot about what a new worship gathering might look like. I also try to attend a wide variety of worship services in the community so I get a feel of what the worship scene is in these parts. If I’m honest, most of those visits leave me pretty wanting. But reading the book, The Hospitality of God: Emergent Worship for a Missional Church, got me really excited about alternative, creative, and faithful forms of missional and emerging worship.
The authors, Mary Gray-Reeves (serving in California) and Michael Perham (serving in England) are both Bishops in the Anglican tradition. The book is their take — simple reporting and thoughtful analysis — on 14 Anglican-related emerging worship communities in the US and England. The result is a readable comprehensive study that’s chockfull of smart reflections that critique carefully and judge with humility.
Organized according to topic rather than worship community, in each section the authors give a generous snapshot of a worship community or two, and then reflect how this community connects with traditional Anglican principles.
For example, “Authority is a Conversation” explores how the traditional notion of pastoral authority and institutional church authority is often supplanted in emergent/missional communities. Instead of giving authority because a priest wears a collar, emergent communities function with what the authors call, “indigenous authenticity.” The congregations they visited were connected to their ministry context, invested in their communities, and cared for their partners but from their own very intentional terms rather than those dictated from a church hierarchy. Along those lines, sermons in emergent churches the authors experiences “were preached by laity, sermons responded to in conversation during a feedback time, or individuals creating their own reflections by participating in Open Space.”
Though the variety of the faith communities the authors visits is vast — from house churches, to once-a-month worship experiences connected to traditional congregations, to a very traditional Compline service which attracts 500 folks in their 20s and 30s — the one thing the churches seem to have in common, the authors write, is an open communion table with much emphasis on all being welcome regardless of age, baptismal status, or belief.
I also appreciated their description of Open Space worship (which my buddy Adam Walker Cleaveland curates) from a few different settings. The authors conclude the chapter with their assertion: “What is evident here, despite a huge variety of approach, is a deep and reverent commitment to the Bible, serious study of it, and frequent use of it, most of the time in step with the rest of the church.”
As I visit congregations in Fargo-Moorhead, I find myself pretty-much being able to guess what their worship services will be like from their website whether they’re a traditional ELCA congregation or a Baptist new church start. It could be argued this is a good thing for sure. But, in many ways, that seems problematic to me.
For folks who want to go to church there are options — an attractional service with big band and long sermon in an auditorium, a high church liturgical service in an old building with pews, to name two. But what of the woman who says to a bishop, as quoted in the book, “I don’t go in for that church shit, but I need something more, and this [worship experience] is my something more?”
In the closing chapters, the authors make this clarifying — and telling — distinction. “Emergent churches,” they write, “do not hold as their first matter of importance the survival of the church…This distinguishes them from many institutional churches who are primarily concerned with their own survival, and only secondarily with the spirituality hungry, or those otherwise in need.” The authors mean it not as a crack on the institutional church, but merely an observation. For this reader, however, it was both telling and true.
More and more books are being published which look at emergent congregations, but this analysis of Anglican-related emergent and/or missional faith communities is the best I’ve read yet. It has it’s flaws for sure — the authors’ voice is sometimes confused by different use of American or British English, I couldn’t stand the lack of pictures and videos, and the included liturgy just left me questioning more — but I wholeheartedly recommend this little gem.
If you’re a member of a traditional congregation, read this with your Worship Committee. If you’re not, read this book for a glimpse into what creative new faith communities can be, or at least, what the emerging faith communities the authors studied are exploring right now.
A tale of two worshippy experiences
I was lucky enough to visit not one but two new faith communities in the Twin Cities this weekend, Jacob’s Well and Humblewalk Lutheran Church. Both communities worship in new ways, attempting to be welcoming places for people not drawn to traditional ELCA congregations. Both communities are also very different.
Jacob’s Well meets Sunday mornings in two locations, both schools. I arrived a few minutes before the 10:30 service start and was greeted by many flags and signs in the parking lot. Inside the school people gathered in the hallway drinking coffee and chatted. Parents took their kids to classrooms staffed by happy-looking adults (there were lots of kids around) and a table with fruit sat to one side.
The worship space was a school auditorium decorated very nicely for worship. Several candles were lit, water was flowing in a makeshift font, two large screens sat above each corner of the stage and the four-person band was up front. The service included several praise songs, a few videos (mostly made in-house), and a few prayers but the main part — about 45 minutes — was a discussion between a pastor and a guest about the question, “What if…love really did win?” Congregation members could text questions to a number on a screen if they wanted to ask something of the speakers, and it was all done in a loose, natural, conversational style. Both speakers were women.
At the end, an offering was taken. I’m guessing a little over 100 people were in attendance. There was no communion.
Later in the day I attended Humblewalk Lutheran Church in a smal high-ceilinged converted office space in St. Paul. This service was very low-tech compared to Jacob’s Well. Since the group was a different size than Jacob’s Well — 20 or so — I was greeted personally several times throughout the evening. After a little mingling, we sat in chairs facing a decorated table. Songs were led by a single acoustic guitar and folk singer type, and ranged from more traditional hymns to contemporary praise and worship. The congregation sang very well. Several kids walked around during the service, and parents corralled them or let them wander as they felt called.
I don’t remember Jacob’s Well having any liturgy — any words I was to speak — but the flow of Humblewalk’s service is found in the newest worship book and congregation members were supposed to respond at several point. In fact, before the prayer of confession we were asked to consider and even share out loud anything particular we wished to confess.
Everything at Humblewalk was very laid-back and informal. At one point Pastor Jodi flubbed a bit of the liturgy. The congregation just smiled and she tried again. We celebrated communion — I was served by a ten year-old.
A notable different in the services (from this mission developer’s point of view, at least) is that Jacob’s Well included no scripture reading. While a portion from 1 John was on a handout on our chairs, it was never read or referenced from the stage. Humblewalk, however, included two readings from John 20 and a responsive reading of Psalm 16. I suppose other differences include the fact that Pastor Jodi at Humblewalk wore a clergy collar (though informally) while Pastor Dawn at Jacob’s Well wore a T-shirt and jeans jacket.
I’ve found this great post by Andrew Jones helpful in the past few weeks in framing the many different types of churches. In Jones’ rubric, Jacob’s Well, though connected to a mother ELCA congregation, felt most like #2 GenX, Postmodern, and “Emergent” while Humblewalk was clearly more of a #4 House churches, simple churches, organic churches (with a clear liturgy).
In broad terms, I expect Humblewalk would be less attractive for someone who is totally new to faith and formal worship, as it assumed a certain comfortability with liturgy (even though it was done in a very relaxed way, almost like church camp). On the other hand, Jacob’s Well didn’t really expect me to do a thing — nobody shook my hand or welcomed me by name so I could consider faith questions below-the-radar. Also, Jacob’s Well lack of scripture readings presumably wouldn’t scare off those who are questioning or intimidated by the Bible.
But I’m a pastor, a professional church leader, so my views surely are shaped with a bias. Have you attended a new worship community recently? Do you long for a different kind of faith gathering? Which of Andrew Jones’ ten church types appeals most to you?
update: I should have said this in the original post — Thanks, very much, to all the leadership of Humblewalk and Jacob’s Well. I blog on them mostly as a way to think out-loud, and I’m really grateful for your ministry and wish you the best.
image by TACLUDA
Muddling through: how to lead a new faith community
Leading a church that isn’t a “church,” doesn’t meet regularly, and has a loose version of itself is all rather tricky. It’s also a lot of fun. I’m four weeks into my position at Mission Developer with The Project F-M, and I’m discovering new joys and challenges each day. I won’t overshare or bore you with mundane details (like the three hours it took me to put together that damn office chair), but I am developing a series of working theories about the Project and young adult ministry in Fargo-Moorhead.
All these hypotheses are very preliminary, but the little time I’ve had to tackle the Project’s next steps so far has led me to think on these things. So, in the spirit of openness, I invite you to think on these things as well. And, of course, please let’s think together in the comments.
Hypothesis One: Some new faith communities have natural starts; others have more chaotic births.
As I’ve spoken with other people who have started new missional/emergent/whatever communities, many stories are of communities that have developed quite naturally. “I almost came onto such-and-such a community by accident. Friends kept telling me to lead an informal prayer service, so when I had the time, I did, and it just took off from there.”
Or, mission developers were called with very specific tasks in mind: start a bible study, transition into a church, buy a building, go from there. Neither of these starts are simple or without many challenges along the way, but there’s a natural flow, a building of interest and energy and a clear movement from A to B.
On the other hand, other starts are more chaotic. Values and vision and energy don’t mesh as easily, and larger challenges keep cropping up. Talking through these challenges can be really helpful for all, but if they’re not addressed head-on they fester and positive growth is difficult.
Hypothesis two: paraphrasing from a conversation partner, “Most 20/30 somethings I know (myself included) would never want to ‘go to church,’ but they all are happy, even eager, to discuss faith and spirituality.”
Another side of this statement has to do with our traditional notion of what church is, and the young adult stereotype that church is boring, out-of-touch, and irrelevant. Without arguing that point one way or another, I’m totally willing to grant that the impulse to talk about faith, and to be in an accepting community of faith-seekers, is stronger (and more powerful) than an invitation to “go to church.”
Hypothesis three: smaller might be better.
Words like “community,” “friendship,” and “relationships” keep coming up in my discussions. Fargo-Moorhead boasts some very large Lutheran congregations — some totally great ones. Their size is usually a huge asset, but I find myself considering the benefits of small groups and small gatherings for now. As much as I can, I’m trying not to jump to a working image of gatherings that measure success by their size.
Hypothesis four: The elephant in the Project F-M room is how to speak of Jesus Christ without being off-putting, how to claim a distinct Christian identity without coming across as too in-your-face or close-minded.
I’ve read many places that Gen X and Y is said to belong to a community first before they believe (whereas, in the past, people first believed a certain theological framework and then sought to belong to a church that espoused a similar belief). The question becomes, though, how to move from belonging to believing with a group of people who are of a questioning/seeking faith to being with.
image here
Connect Online
