As I put in the blurb, “The idea of same-sex marriage and the question of its appropriateness is prevalent in our culture and media today. It’s also important for the church to be willing to address this topic with youth and discuss their questions and concerns.”

Too often, in mainline churches where same-sex marriage is controversial (or just not addressed) among our members, we fail to discuss it with youth. Not only does that not help youth think theologically about an important question, but it teaches them the church is not the place to discuss tough, challenging issues. This study, through use of art, case studies, discussion, personal reflection, and question-asking helps make a space for youth to discuss the question of same-sex marriage. (There’s also an adult version at The Thoughtful Christian.com).

So, check it out. The $5 study comes with an 8-page Leader’s Guide and handout for the youth. If you don’t know about The Thoughtful Christian‘s book deals, you’ll want to look into that as well. It’s a great site with a wide array of downloadable studies. And, thank goodness, at least most of the authors are really top-notch.

This post comes to you live from Louisville, Kentucky where I’m attending a meeting of the Presbyterian Committee on Congregational Song (PCOCS). For several years now, PCOCS has met to select the contents, format, etc. of the next collection of Presbyterian songs and hymns – the next hymnal.

We’ve focused this particulary three-day meeting on the psalms, and I have a few reflections. First, a bit of history. The previous Presbyterian hymnal published in 1990 had many psalms set to music and contained in a particular section of the hymnal ordered by psalm number (rather than topical, ordered by use in worship, or some other arrangement). For a number of reasons the psalms, generally speaking, were the least sung and least popular section of the previous hymnal. This for a denomination whose roots are in psalm singing.

There are plenty of other reasons the psalms in the 1990 hymnal were less than popular – and we could certainly discuss whether popularity is the point – but I want to reflect briefly on a few other issues related to singing the psalms.

Singing a psalm from the Bible that has been set to music is singing someone else’s song as your own. This happens when singing any piece of music written by someone else, I suppose, but I feel it more strongly when I sing a psalm. Singing what God’s people have sung for thousands of years connects me to those people in a way singing a newly composed text doesn’t quite reach. And it also brings up some tricky problems when the messages of the psalms don’t fit into our neat theological categories today.

For instance, one psalm paraphrase we looked at had the phrase, “May God confirm your heart’s desire / and bring to fullness all your plans.” I found this psalm’s message curious because of how often we speak in Christian parlance today about following “God’s plan” but the psalm sings about God confirming our plans.

(By the way, since PCOCS works with texts with author’s names intentionally omitted I cannot cite them here which is fine because our work isn’t finished yet. So even if you somehow know the psalm I reference here, nobody knows whether it’ll be in the next collection. So please don’t freak out on me.)

Other psalms come up against other narratives of the Bible so that we can use the Bible as speaking different and sometimes conflicting messages at different times. This is obvious for any Bible reader, but seemed particularly tricky when working with psalms.

For instance, one psalm sets up how creation praises and responds to God then says, “None questions what you do.” But many of us do question God – which seems reasonable, right? And some of the psalms – a lot of the psalms – do the same thing!

Finally, some psalms get at the old challenge of works righteousness theology: “Those who trust the Lord are filled; all the good wrought by their labor / Is their gain, so God has willed.” Maybe this one gets at the challenge of simply explaining any theological concept in rhyming verse, but it struck me as particularly curious.

Though I’ve many more thoughts, I must cut this sort and run back to the meeting now. Unless I hurry, I’ll have to sing a song: “Please accept my apology / blogging stole such time from me.” Peace.

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?

So, at the moment, my mind is mostly consumed with worship preparations, sermon editing, and a million details of coordination needed to help pull off quality conferences for 650 and 1300 youth this week and next. The blog may be quiet for a while.

There’s many things to love about Montreat youth conferences, but from my biased perspective as preacher here’s the first few that come to mind. First, the driving force of the conference is small groups in which youth meet twice each day. Small groups are made up of youth and a few adults, almost all of whom have not met before. Together they discuss the faith and grow in God’s love, and it’s all done in conversation and in community (personal come-to-Jesus experiences are less the point than personal relationships with those who seek to follow Jesus). Next, evening worship serves as a capstone to each day, and it takes place after a day of holy recreation, music, keynote presentation, and several small group meetings. Worship, then, (including my sermon) is a time at which the day’s theme can be claimed, wrestled-with, and honestly raised to God, but that only happens after a full day’s worth of contemplation. I’ve been thinking of worship as the capstone for each day. Finally, Montreat youth conferences are led by a team of leaders — music, recreation, keynote, preacher — and many support staff. So, hopefully, it’s not about individual personalities but how together we can consider how God is leading us to reflect upon the week’s theme.

I better be going, but here’s a list of some other Montreat youth conferences highlights (even before it begins):

• youth and adults working on planning teams in partnership
• hundreds of youth singing praises to God with new songs and old
• beautiful mountain settings with flowing creeks throughout
• fun fun fun recreation opportunities that build folks up and connect them to creation
• seeing old friends and making new ones
• being exposed to the faith of the whole church — both its similarities and differences
• ice cream at the Huckleberry
• wonderful college-aged summer staffers that make Montreat work so well
• youth, from many states, loving God and serving their neighbors

image by benuski

The question was on the tip of my tongue last weekend when Rev. Mark Hanson, the Presiding Bishop of the ELCA, spoke at a town hall forum in Moorhead, Minn. But I didn’t ask it. I feared my question wouldn’t be taken seriously. And, looking at the five hundred or so Lutherans gathered, it was probably the right call. I mean, let’s be honest, there’s a certain type of crowd that comes out to a standing-room-only event on a Friday night to hear a church bureaucrat speak. Folks had burning questions about church social statements, denominational strategy, and why it took their rural congregations 18 months to find a new pastor. I get that. But, even so, I so wanted to ask the question. Maybe I should have.

You see, Fargo-Moorhead last weekend hosted two VERY different events. Both synods on the Fargo and Moorhead sides of the Red River hosted their annual assemblies, so Lutheran pastors and lay leaders gathered to worship, conduct business meetings, approve budgets, and learn from speakers and workshops. On Saturday, though, downtown Fargo hosted something rather different than the Lutheran assemblies — the Downtown Zombie Pub Crawl. (The fourth annual Downtown Zombie Pub Crawl no less!) More than 1,000 people responded “Yes” to the Facebook invitation. They dressed-up like zombie — lots of blood and guts and scary makeup — and visited various downtown pubs. I have no way of knowing what percentage of synod assembly participants joined the ranks of the undead, but I have a good guess it was closer to zero than two. 

Which leads me to my unasked question. Of course, it’s ridiculous because we can’t know. But, let’s consider it briefly. Ok, so here it goes: where would Jesus have been — the synod meetings or the Zombie Pub Crawl?

I mean, Jesus was all about getting people together and having a good time. He was certainly for more than a little imbibing — his first sign in John was turning gallons of water into wine — and I can totally see him rocking out to a disco ball. Who did Jesus tend to hang with but the outcasts, the folks on the margins, the folks for whom respectable society had no time or energy. Does that remind you, even a little, of zombie culture these days?

And, the synod meetings, as good as they were (much better than most Presbytery meetings, but that’s another post), didn’t push me to those margins. They didn’t send me into that uncomfortable space where I questioned my faith or my assumptions. They affirmed how to be a good Lutheran — boy they did that — but not as much how to be an edgy one. They told me about denominational resources and entertained me with hunky-dory illustration-filled preaching, but they did not convict me.

In my position as mission developer for The Project F-M I meet with lots of 20-30 somethings who aren’t connected to faith communities. Often, I hear stories of folks who view the institutional church as not open to questions, as expecting its members to fit a certain mold, folks who see the church as either dishonest or unaware of its own failings. And while I could give counterexamples here or there, usually I just listen because their experiences speak for themselves. Many many young adults in Fargo-Moorhead see the church as out of touch and not for them.

To be honest, I still don’t know how to answer the question. I don’t have any idea how Bishop Hanson would have responded. But here’s my hope — for my call, and for my church. I dearly hope that next year the synod assemblies and the Zombie Pub Crawl once again occur on the same weekend. And, if they do, I want to be edgy enough, to respond to Christ’s call enough, to be downtown instead of at the synod business meetings. And, there I’ll stand on a street corner with a bottle of wine and some bread, and I’ll preach of a man who too is undead. Jesus Christ. Jesus who cured the sick and caused the dead to rise. Jesus, whose blood was poured out for the salvation of the whole world. Jesus who lived on the edge and died there because of it. Jesus, who is promised to be present when we share the bread and drink the wine remembering him. Jesus, who loves Lutherans, and zombies, and a good party.

image by lusi

Additional Resources from www.TheThoughtfulChristian.com

• Everyday Parables: Learnings from Life, by James Taylor
• Parables as Subversive Speech: Jesus as Pedagogue of the Oppressed, by William R. Herzog II
• “Parables of the Lost: Luke 15,” by Thomas W. Walker (Adult Study)
• “Understanding God’s Grace through Parables,” by Adam Fischer (Youth Study)

Actually, come April I will be employed by several partnership bodies of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America as Mission Developer for The Project F-M, but I don’t have to change my denominational colors. The PC(USA) is in full communion with the ELCA. We’re best of buds, and ministers from one denomination can easily serve a ministry of the other upon invitation. So I’ll still be Presbyterian, I’ll just have a double dose of meetings to attend.

I’m curious, though, Lutherans out there on the interwebs: What do you see as the important distinguishing characteristics of the ELCA (as compared to the PC(USA) or other denominations)? What does being Lutheran mean to you?

Here’s the obvious differences I’ve noticed over the years:

• Lutherans use paradox often as a means to describe tricky theological concerns. In fact, I challenge you to get a group of Lutheran pastors in a room talking theology and not mention paradox in the first hour.
• Lutherans speak of a law and gospel dichotomy dialectic fairly often. For instance, in my text study group for sermons, ELCA folks will describe the “law” of the text and the “gospel” of the text. (For various reasons, this wouldn’t happen in PC(USA) circles, but interestingly, rarely do any Presbyterians actually explain why.)
• Lutherans have much more of a respect for liturgy than your average Presbyterian.

I’m very grateful for these differences. I’m thrilled to be called to serve in a partner denomination. I have a lot to learn from Lutheran colleagues (and goodness knows, Presbyterians are no angels). To add a wrinkle to the move, I’ll be serving in a position which may not emphasize any denominational brand very loudly at all. Up to now, at least, that hasn’t been the point at all. Fine by me. In fact, my dual-citizenship could be a real asset.

But, oh wise blog readers, I’m curious: If you were to turn me Lutheran what would you suggest? Norwegian sweaters (or buying that shirt above)? Memorizing Luther’s Small Catechism? Reading Bonhoeffer? What resources should I contemplate to better understand my Lutheran partners in faith and ministry?

The church I serve has 133 members. We have records noting when each one of them was born, joined the church, and when the time comes we’ll record the date of their deaths as well. Much of my work as a pastor has to do with navigating the gray areas of life, but official membership is not one of those areas. We have a book. In it we record the names of church members. Case closed.

Except that, well, it’s actually a little more complicated than that — and more convoluted too. You see, in the Presbyterian church where we specialize in spiritual gifts of paper-pushing and rule-writing, we have made three categories of members: active members, inactive members, and affiliate members. (The definition of active and inactive members should be self-explanatory. “Affiliate members” are folks who retain their membership elsewhere but choose to affiliate with another congregation for a time.) And then, as if that’s not complicated enough, each congregation is supposed to review the status of members at least annually, counseling with those who “have neglected the responsibilities of membership.” That can get, well, rather tricky.

In our lovely denominational constitution, after several pages describing all this, there’s a little section on “non-member privileges” (“privilege” is not the word I would have chosen, but oh well). The point of this section is this: non-members have all the cool points as any active member — non-members can receive communion and present their children for baptism, they can participate in worship and the life of the church, they can surely share their financial resources, they can serve on committees — they just can’t vote or speak at congregational meetings. With as much sarcasm as I can muster: I’m sure there are hundreds of non-members crying themselves to sleep over not being to fully participate in congregational meetings; crying themselves to sleep.

With that inspired Presbyterian polity introduction, I can finally get to the point: why do we have members in the first place? And, truthfully, is it worth it?

Here’s what I know:

• many many churches do not have accurate membership rolls
• membership rolls can easily become about numbers rather than about faithful living
• emphasizing membership can send the message that we want new members so we can declare our church club is growing
• Jesus didn’t care a flip about membership rolls
• membership in churches can feel a whole lot like membership in a health club, only without the cool ID card and parking pass

So, pretend for a second that you’re starting a new faith community, you’re planting a new church that’s about relationships and following Jesus and you’ve never even heard of the Presbyterian church constitution: do you even bother to have membership status?  Do you need to formally categorize those in your community? Do you want people to sign on a dotted line or walk the journey of faith?

image by Philippe Ramakers

Additional Resources from www.TheThoughtfulChristian.com

• The Presbyterian Handbook
• The Presbyterian Handbook for Pastors
• “What Do Presbyterians Believe?” By Donald K. McKim (Adult Study)
• To see a list of all our studies on denominational beliefs, click here.

Not many people on this earth can say, when moving to the twin cities of Fargo, ND and Moorhead, MN that they are moving 1) south, 2) to a warmer place, and 3) to a much larger metro area. What a life we live!

My new position is both very exciting and very scary. Beginning in April, I will serve as Mission Developer for The Project F-M, a new vision and venture to cultivate a 21st century faith community in the Fargo-Moorhead area. What does that mean? Beats me. Seriously….who knows what God might be up to.

This is a bit of what I do know. Calling a Mission Developer is the third step of a process begun several years ago when an idea struck in a church basement (why do all the best ideas come in church basements or parking lots?). The group gathered was discussing the fact that there exists 45,000 persons between the age of 20 and 40 in Fargo-Moorhead unconnected to an organized faith community. And so, The Project F-M began. After an initial phase and gathering of support in local churches, a Community Organizer was hired for a year to listen and assess the interests, stories, and build relationships among F-M’s young adults and larger community. Now it’s my term to jump in as Mission Developer.

Funding has come from generous churches, two ELCA synods, and the national Lutheran church. It’s officially an ELCA call so I’m very grateful that the ELCA and PC(USA) are in full communion. I look forward to serving with my brothers and sisters of the Norwegian sweaters.

Stay tuned for more about The Project F-M in later weeks. (Current web presence is quite minimal, but it’s here.) Now, though, please pray for a smooth transition, but mostly for the kind folk in Hallock who have welcomed me so well.

I’ll close with a prayer found both in Lutheran and Presbyterian worship resources:

Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

image by Mattox