Must we always take sides?
I enjoyed James Poniewozik’s interesting piece, “Polarized News? The Media’s Moderate Bias” in Time last week. Though I’ve been aware of what Poniewozik calls “moderate bias” for years, it really hit home just last year when I studied global climate change and the media in my Creation, New Creation, and Ecology course at Columbia Seminary.
Turns out, the same folks used by the tobacco company’s in the 80s and 90s to suggest smoking wasn’t bad for you have been hired by big oil to suggest global climate change isn’t occurring. The moderate media has to / loves to cover two sides of a story, so even if international scientistic bodies publish reports on the ill effects of climate change, and there’s a tiny minority of scientists (or talking heads) questioning their findings, the news story can often become a simple: scientists disagree on climate change.
Poniewozik also mentions “status quo bias.”
Moderate bias also grows from a related phenomenon: status-quo bias. Journalists, like anyone, have a built-in bias toward believing that what was true yesterday will be true tomorrow. Establishment news outlets grow cozy and comfortable with other establishments. One reason some journalists insufficiently questioned the run-up to the Iraq war and underestimated the housing bubble was that they listened to their usual, credentialed sources — and the history of the past decade is the history of the experts being wrong.
Anyways, that’s just something to think on because moderate bias affects us all, and a whole lot. It’s probably not always bad, but I do wonder how we’d read the Bible without moderate bias or status quo bias. Or, further, how we’d love our neighbor.
Then again, I usually take Elie Wiesel‘s perspective pretty seriously and he doesn’t mince words about taking sides:
I swear never to be silent whenever and wherever human lives endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourage the tormenter, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere when human life are endangered. When human dignity is in jeopardy, that place, at that moment, must become the center of the universe.
Too tough? I don’t know. With Wiesel’s holocaust experience as background it’s hard to call for folks to back off from taking sides. But one also doesn’t want to polarize unnecessarily. Hmm, I guess the point is to take Poniewozik’s basic perspective and always watch for bias since even moderate bias is sinister enough.
image by Robert Linder
Postscript: To Post a Sermon Online, or Just Move On?
To make a sermon manuscript public, or not, that is the question. I’ve had this blog for about two years now, and I’m still of two minds when posting my sermon manuscripts. For one, my sermons are so contextual that it feels weird to post them on the internets where they roam free without context or explanation. By posting them, it almost feels like I’m inviting a kind of voyeurism. These manuscripts are not written for the whole world, but for one particular community in a certain time with certain concerns in mind. A north Florida congregation would not understand the point of an Ole and Lena reference (to use an example from my most recent sermon), but such a joke in a northwestern Minnesota congregation might serve quite well. So, when I post, I always want to fill in the context, to type parenthetical notes — that line is for ______, I looked at so and so during this part.
But, then, I’m not naive (or faithless) enough to think the Holy Spirit does not take my preached words and do much more with them than I could ever do on my own. And I’m certainly not going to limit the Spirit’s movement to corporate worship. If I can post a sermon to WordPress, I bet God has WordPress scoped out pretty well. Also, several people just yesterday told me that they couldn’t attend last week’s service and enjoyed reading the sermon online. And a few students and relatives connected to the congregation can stay more connected still by reading posted sermons.
Since FPC Hallock doesn’t have a website as of now, my blog seems as appropriate a place as any to post them. (Though I’m never thrilled when they muck up my facebook page since I have wordpress and facebook connected.)
Posting sermons also brings both an intellectual honesty, and opens the door to intellectual dishonesty. By posting, I’m fully aware that any pastor joe blow anywhere preaching on the same texts can google a sermon and steal it — change it a bit, or not, and preach it in his congregation. Sadly, since there are too many instances of this going on even before google, one can only assume such intellectual and theological sinfulness is even more rampant today. On the other hand, posting sermons holds me to public account beyond our congregation. If I use an unattributed story, or preach less than my best, the account is out there for all to see. I also enjoy reading friends’ sermons and wrestlings with the texts I’ve worked with, so it’s only nice to return the favor.
So there’s that stated publicly now. I’m not sure I’ll feel any better before posting next week, but at least I’ve given a bit of a disclaimer. It was written for this context alone; please use it for study purposes only.
What Makes the Presbytery Presbyterian?
I have long sought to be both solidly Presbyterian and consistently ecumenical. I think of serving as Co-Moderator of the National Presbyterian Youth Ministry Council while choosing to attend St. Olaf College, a school quite connected to the Lutheran Church (ELCA). It looks like my service as a member of the Presbytery of the Northern Plains will continue this trend.
Last week, I attended my first presbytery meeting as a Minister Member at First Presbyterian Church in Bismarck. Overall, I did enjoy the meeting and especially appreciated getting to know many of my new colleagues in the Presbytery (and wish the meeting could have had more friendly/meet and greet opportunities). What became apparent very quickly, however, is that the presbytery is seeking to understand what, these days, makes it Presbyterian. To be honest, I left the meeting with even less of an answer than when I arrived.
These numbers won’t be quite right since they change all the time, but my presbytery directory says there are about 25 PC(USA) Ministers of Word and Sacrament serving congregations in the Presbytery. There are 16 “Others Serving Presbyterian Churches” which include pastors (and different types of “lay pastors”) from the ELCA, UMC, AG, ECNA, and more. And we boast 16 Presbyterian Commissioned Lay Pastors, Certified Lay Pastors, and Commissioned Lay Pastor Leaners.
As part of the presbytery meeting, we had some conversations and activities to help determine the Core Values of the presbytery. As you might imagine, in a group as diverse as this we struggled somewhat. For example, if you are and Assembly of God pastor and this is your first PC(USA) presbytery meeting, it’s a bit tricky to hone in on what should be the presbytery’s core values. Finding any core at all, in fact, must be done very carefully indeed.
I preached a few weeks ago at First Pres Hallock challenging hearers to examine what makes them presbyterian. After attending presbytery, I think the question is harder for than group than it is for our congregation. A start, certainly, is that the presbytery is willing to change to survive, to welcome new forms of church leadership by lay pastors and those of other denominations.
But in the back of my mind is a question that’s been nagging at for many months now, a question left over from my Creation, New Creation, and Ecology class at Columbia Seminary: What makes a sustainable church?
So I wonder, is the presbytery truly sustainable with such numbers, ministers, temporary members, and commissioners? If so, what are we hoping to sustain — a Presbyterian identity? thriving small churches? evangelism and education? the core gospel message (and the PC(USA) stuff can work itself out)? I don’t know.
Our next meeting isn’t until February, so I’ve got a while to think (we meet twice a year, I’m told). I look forward to further understanding how the Presbytery of the Northern Plains can sustain be a healthy witness to Christ.
image by: Christophe Libert
To snore, drool, read, or sit, that is the question
Are you a snorer or a sitter?
Several recent flights have led me to ponder the unique experience of airline travel. Sure, there’s always the risk, if one is a pastor-type, of letting that be known to the person sitting next to you. (…a few hours later you might still be hearing your fellow traveler’s life story — and that might be a great pastoral opportunity.) But, that’s not what struck me, actually.
Instead, I’m struck by the amount of people on regular flights who either (a) fall asleep, or (b) don’t do much of anything.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about napping, and doing so on a plane is fine and dandy as long as one neither drools or snores. That’s not it. Rather, I’m struck by the vast number of people who sleep on your average flight. What about flying makes us so sleepy? Is it just sitting still for an extended period of time? Is it dealing with the stress of flying? Is it something with the sound of the plane, or the feel, or the oxygen mix of the plane’s air system? I suppose it’s probably some combination, but I’ve always just wondered about that.
Second, I’m fascinated by airline travelers who seem to do nothing in their seats. They don’t sleep. They don’t read. They don’t listen to music. They don’t chat-up their neighbor. They just sit there.
I cannot do this. A two minute wait without something to read makes me feel uncomfortable and twitchy. I almost always have a book or magazine with me wherever I go, just in case I might have two minutes down time. (I model myself after an old professor of mine who seemed to have reading material in every pocket at all times.) Sure, I have issues. And because of them, I’m fascinated by the opposite pole: those who travel without a stitch to read, do, or listen to.
Well, I’m off to pack for tomorrow’s journey. I plan to read a book, a magazine, and perhaps get some last-minute sermon editing done. Feel free to join me, just keep the drooling to yourself.
If Harry Potter Was a Pastor, What Would He Wear? Reflections on Clergy Robes
When I worked in the music office at St. Olaf College, the favorite part of my day was watching the new conducting students come in to purchase a wand — I mean, baton. I say, “wand” because the scene always reminded of the Hogwart’s students’ first trip to Ollivander’s wand shop in Harry Potter.
I’ve been investigating my own wand of sorts for a few weeks now: a clergy robe. Chalk the experience up to something they didn’t teach you in seminary. Not that I’m particularly surprised. What’s more bothersome, I suppose, is that we didn’t really even talk much about robes at all, let alone visit a wand/robe shop as a class and discover with what robe our magic thrives.
When it comes to robes, there’s two big questions that face a new PC(USA) seminary graduate. First, should one purchase a robe at all? Does one even want to wear a robe for leading worship in the first place? And second, what type of robe is best — the traditional black Geneva gown, or the uber traditional white alb? I’ll take the questions one at a time.
First, whether to wear a robe at all. One of the beauties of Presbyterianism is that it allows pastors wide latitude in many decisions, particularly regarding how to lead worship. There is a Book of Common Worship published by the denomination, but some pastors have never used a thing from it in all their years of ministry. Similarly, some pastors wouldn’t be caught dead leading worship without a robe on. They might think that street clothes draw the congregation’s attention to the wrong thing — the latest suit fashions or tie choice rather than the worship of God. And indeed, what a preacher wears does send a certain message and can draw undue attention. I think of the youth conferences in Montreat this summer. Most preachers wear jeans and casual shirts. I think they’re trying to say to the youth, “Don’t you worry, I’m hip, I can bring the word to a youth conference.” If the same preacher preached on Sunday morning, though, I imagine s/he might wear a robe.
Some pastors I know don’t wear robes because they don’t want to indicate they serve an office or do anything more special than the other folks in the congregation. On the other hand, I know some female clergy who very intentionally wear robes and clergy collars to worship so that the congregation fully recognizes and respects them in their office of minister. And then there’s preachers who take off their shoes to preach — but that’s another post.
Second, if one decides to wear a robe, the choice of what robe to wear is not simple either. Some Presbyterian pastors I know favor the white alb, or cream alb, because of its plain nature and historical connection to baptism. Wearing an alb could not only draw attention away from street clothes, but to our common baptismal identity. Or, a black Geneva gown reminds us of our denomination’s Reformation roots. After Martin Luther’s denial of the pomp and grandeur of the Roman Catholic services of his time, John Calvin continued the thought by wearing an academic gown, a plain black robe worn by university graduates. Such a gown pointed out one’s education, one’s knowledge of the word and ability (with the Spirit’s help, of course) to lead a congregation thanks in part to one’s significant theological education. Also, I suppose, the academic robe was worn by lawyers and judges and professors and the like so it communicated some sort of parity among those professions (I’m mostly guessing, there, but it sounds good, right?).
This only scratches the surface of robe choices, and I won’t opine on stoles or crosses or the relative monopoly of CM Almy on clergy attire and church vestments. But now that I think about it, maybe I don’t blame seminary as much for not hosting wand/robe discussions when I was there. We were plenty busy at the time, and they did give us the resources and teach us how to think critically about just this type of issue. And for that garment of critical thinking and awareness that I will always wear, I’m thankful.
What's so hip about "Guide My Feet"?
The past few days I’ve been meeting with the Presbyterian Committee on Congregational Song in Louisville. It’s a formidable but fun group with whom it’s a joy to work. I’ll have a few more reflections going up in the next week or so, but this one I had actually been planning to write for a while.
It won’t be news to anyone that each worshiping community develops a kind of core to their congregational song repertoire. Some hymns, for identifiable reasons and un, are particularly popular in certain congregations. Obvious examples include hymns or songs written by members, or pieces commissioned for the congregation.
(A favorite song in Montreat is “Montreat How I Love You,” which is a camp favorite but, I dare say, not being considering for the hymnal.)
I’m not really sure why this is, but by far the most popular hymn for Columbia Seminary chapel services is the African-American spiritual “Guide My Feet”. Nobody keeps good records about this at CTS as far as I know, so I’m only claiming this as a frequent chapel attender, but I’m willing to say ‘“Guide My Feet” was the most-sung hymn in each of my three years at Columbia.’
Mostly, at Columbia, senior M.Div. students plan and lead chapel services for the community. Why, then, is “Guide My Feet” so popular? Who knows, but here’s a few possible reasons that come to mind.
- I’ll be generous with my first reason: “Guide My Feet” is just a very good hymn. It’s chosen often because of it’s high quality. There’s probably something to this. Though it’s a simple text, it’s one of very sound theology. While some hymns can be a bit wordy, or too showy, “Guide My Feet” gets right to the point: help us out God! The tune is catchy, easy to sing, and has a rich heritage. It also invites easy singing in harmony.
- Less generous second reason: the average musical skills of seminary students these days are not great. Many (most?) are not very comfortable reading music and they have been formed by congregations with fairly small core hymn repertoires. When this is the case, flipping through the hymnal is a daunting task — especially when one feels the hymns will be analyzed by students and professors alike. So, “Guide My Feet” becomes a comfortable, safe, and familiar choice. It looks good on the page, so students choose it.
- Third reason for right now: “Guide My Feet” has several verses, but they are simple repeated words and one does not need the have one’s face buried in the hymnal to sing. In fact, one barely needs the words written at all. Perhaps this gives worshipers a confidence to sing out, a comfort not to worry about the words. Knowing the words make the hymn easy not just to sing, but to pray.
So that’s a few thoughts on the popularity of “Guide My Feet” at Columbia Seminary. What’s the most popular song in your place of worship? Any ideas why?
image by chris1961
Anxious Time to Wash Your Hands
As of this afternoon, I am certified in CPR and First Aid. Well, as much as a day’s course can provide. I’m very glad I took the course, and am happy to work with 120+ other Montreat Summer Staffers who did likewise. Having CPR/First Aid certified folks around makes Montreat a safer environment in which to work and live.
That said, the course and the questions it elicited from us, reminded me of my culture’s severe penchant for fear, anxiety, and worry. Perhaps this reaction is just part and parcel of such a course and considering the dangers we face daily. On the other hand, I wonder if twenty-five years ago such a course was even offered, and if so, if there was any discussion about the necessities of mouth guards for giving CPR, or having to get verbal permission to treat injured parties to avoid later lawsuits.
One of the things I love about summer is its carefree nature. Kids without homework and counselors without the same. Long evenings of hanging out and ice cream. Fewer demands, perhaps, or at least, a change of pace.
Call me old, but I wonder if summers have lost a bit of their fearlessness. Maybe it’s the economy or our better knowledge of allergic reactions or just the fact we know so much these days (like the CDC’s daily tracking of Lyme disease cases), but it all makes me wonder about what all the anxiety is doing to us. Was camp without cell phones, tb screenings, and antibacterial gel so bad?
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