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Three Good Books

Posted on July 27, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

A few weeks ago I enjoyed a lovely vacation and some solid reading time. Here’s what I read and totally recommend to you.

Room by Emma Donoghue is a page turner like none other I’ve come across in the past year or two. It doesn’t sound like it, for the story is of a child Jack, as he’s raised by his young loving mom in one room. The 11 x 11 room serves as a prison for them, but is also space of amazing creativity, immense feelings, and even beauty. Trapped due to an evil kidnapper, Jack narrates brilliantly as he comes to understand his childhood is unlike any other. It’s intense and affecting, and worth the read for sure.

Burning Bright: Stories by Ron Rash is a wonderful collection of short stories. I came across Rash after reading Serena, and have since enjoyed several of his books. I think of him as sort of an Appalachian Joyce Carol Oates which means the stories are well told, regional, rich, and often utterly depressing.

Devil in the White City by Erik Larson is, I suppose, a historical novel but I don’t usually like historical novels and I loved this book, so I want to call it something different: darn good. The books tells the story of two men with dramatically different dreams: Daniel Burnham, the architect behind the near-miraculous construction of the 1898 Chicago World’s Fair, and H.H. Holmes, a serial killer responsible for perhaps 200 murders in Chicago around the same time. It’s a gripping tale of pre-automobile Chicago, America, and humanity at its best and worst.

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Expanding my worship culture

Posted on July 25, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

Strangely, in my current stage as mission developer of The Project F-M I don’t have regular Sunday morning commitments. So, in recent weeks I’ve taken Sunday mornings to visit several new church plants in the Fargo-Moorhead area. I’ll be perfectly honest: as vibrant as some of them are, I need a break from visiting such congregations. Fargo-Moorhead has several self-sustaining new churches with very young populations, but they are not my cup of tea. I say this in the spirit of open reflection, not wishing to denigrate at all. It’s just true: my personal worship culture is very different from that of the congregations I’ve visited recently.

I use that phrase, “worship culture” very intentionally. The way I think about it, each of us has a sort of way in which we find worship most, well, worshipful. For some folks worshipful worship takes high liturgy, for others it’s raising one’s hands in praise, others prefer silent meditation. Personal worship cultures can change over time of course, or adapt to different settings. But the point is that not all people find the same sort of worship service worshipful — duh, but it’s worth pointing out. And that’s great. That’s the beauty of the body of Christ.

With that careful prelude, let me now reflect on the three services I recently attended. Each of these was at a congregation in Fargo-Moorhead launched within the last 10 years. The average age of all three congregations was well under 40, and two were probably under 30. All took a much more conservative approach to Christianity compared to my personal views and that of the denominations with which I’m affiliated. This conservative approach was most clearly reflected in their very different way of approaching scripture. (In fact, at every service the pastor in some way or another distinguished their congregation from “non Bible believing” churches — as I took it, that seemed to include the ELCA and PC(USA).)

Now to specifics which I’ll bullet. They include both “wow, that’s spiffy” reflections and “boy, that’s as shame” points too.

  • at each congregation someone made a point of shaking my hand and introducing themselves before I sat down. Love it!
  • all three had coffee available beforehand that you then took into worship with you. (But, answer me this: why does everyone in the Midwest insist on making such crappy weak coffee?)
  • none of the services were limited by time: no rushed sermons, no songs cut, worship lasted at least one hour and fifteen to an hour and a half, and that was cool
  • there was an enormous emphasis one one’s personal relationship with Jesus, whether we were saved ourselves, and the import of bringing others to Christ’s salvation
  • the songs (all led by praise bands) were 90% about adoration, praise, and devotion (most contemporary Christian genre but a few old hymns thrown in too)
  • the sermons were 30-45 mins long, thematic, and mentioned many New Testament passages but only one Old Testament reference (Psalms)
  • obvious, but should be noted: scripture lessons were not based on the Revised Common Lectionary (in fact, there were no scripture readings per se, just sermons), none of what ones thinks of as liturgy, no creeds, no confession/forgiveness sequence
  • Communion was held at one service in a laid-back understated way
  • No candles in sight. Lots of talk of Satan.
  • people were dressed in casual clothes, worship leaders included
  • all the worship locations were rented spaces in public buildings; each had a screen up front and rows of movable chairs

Suffice it to say: some aspects of these worship cultures were lovely, some were unfamiliar to me but positive, and some aspects were just painful (mostly theological statements that I consider blatantly wrong). But, I am very glad to have worshiped in these communities, in these new ways, and gotten a glimpse of some of the worship cultures in Fargo-Moorhead. Next week, who knows where I’ll go…there’s always worship at St. Mattress with the gospel of Sunday Times.

image by Carter Perrier

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Eugene Peterson: Pastor, Prolific Author, & RUNNER

Posted on July 20, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

A Gathering Voices Post

Upon a good friend’s recommendation, I recently picked up Eugene Peterson’s memoir creatively titled The Pastor: A Memoir. OK, no points for creativity, but Peterson makes it all up with the prose.

If your familiar with the venerable pastor Peterson’s other work (books I’ve read include Under the Unpredictable Plant, Working the Angles, and of course Peterson’s Biblical translation The Message), the memoir won’t upend your view of him, but it should fill in the picture of Peterson’s pastoral life in helpful ways. Peterson’s reflections, though at times clearly from another era, are first-rate, wise, and well worth reading.

His main pastoral experiences occurred when he started a new Presbyterian congregation in Bel Air, Maryland. So, as a new faith community leader guy myself, I particularly appreciated his reflections on the joys and challenges of a new church development call.

So, yeah. It’s a good book. I recommend. But one chapter particularly caught my attention as I train for the Twin Cities Marathon this October. Peterson is a runner. A big-time runner. A marathoner — and a fast one at that. He qualified for Boston!

In college, Peterson ran for the track team but he did not continue running in grad school or when he became a pastor. This all changed, however, when he found himself in the “badland years” of his ministry, a time when “the color had drained out of both vocation and congregation, and [he] didn’t know what to make of it.” In these troubled times, he took up running again.

He subscribed to Runner’s World, bought a pair of shoes, and started running again in the neighborhood. He did this most afternoons, building up to five miles, and appreciated “the meditative dimension to long-distance running: the uninterrupted quiet, the metronomic repetitiveness, the sensual immersion in the fragrance of trees and flowering bushes and rain, the springiness of the soil on park trails, the Zenlike emptying of the mind that felt like a freedom to be simply present, not having to do or say anything.”

That’s maybe a bit rich for me, but on the whole, I get it. Yes. Indeed. Running helped Peterson out of his “badlands,” his vocational funk. Plus, the congregational leaders at his church supported and sustained Peterson’s running pursuits even insisting once that he skip a Sunday leading worship to run the Philadelphia Marathon.

The life of a pastor can be awfully rough sometimes. It’s comforting to know Eugene Peterson, in all his wisdom and new church development skills, struggled significantly at points. And it’s a comfort to know something as straightforward as running helped him outpace tough emotional times.

I’m not going to write as many books as Eugene Peterson. I’m not going to translate the entire Bible in conversational English or qualify for the Boston Marathon. But I know I will face tough times as a pastor, and with my other support networks, I pray that running might help me through.

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In PC(USA), “Minister” no more. Now: “Teaching Elder.”

Posted on July 13, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

A Gathering Voices post

I’ve struggled with living into a pastoral identity ever since I started seminary. I blog on it from time to time (e.g. here, here, and here). When I served as a parish pastor, some people called me “Pastor Adam,” and that was fine but I never really became comfortable with it.

I recommend Eugene Peterson’s new memoir, The Pastor for addressing some of these issues. Though Peterson once did not anticipate ever becoming a pastor, he later embraced a pastoral calling full-on, with major reflection and many helpful publications for other pastors as well. In his memoir he writes,

While being a pastor certainly has some of these components, the pervasive element in our two-thousand-year pastoral tradition is not someone who “gets things done” but rather a person placed in the community to pay attention and call attention to “what is going on right now” between men and women, with one another and with God — this kingdom of God that is primarily local, relentlessly personal, and prayerful “without ceasing.

While I like this pastoral definition and approach of Peterson’s, his distinction between pastoral identity and non-pastoral identity grates me somewhat in his memoir (not to mention his talk of the call of the pastor’s wife!). But that’s for another post.

I write this all with a huge change in the Presbyterian Church (USA) in mind. As of Sunday, our constitution has changed so that “Minister of the Word and Sacrament” is no longer the preferred way to speak of a pastor’s office. “Minister” is replaced with “Teaching Elder.” So now rather than a denomination led by those called “Ministers of the Word and Sacrament” and “Elders,” we are a denomination led by two types of elders: Teaching Elders and Ruling Elders. So while you might call your pastor “Pastor _______” you can now refer to her as “Elder _______” and be just as accurate. Screen shot 2011-07-13 at 2.57.04 PM

The old “Minister of the Word and Sacrament” language still is included in the new constitution, but it’s in parentheses and doesn’t show up much. Overwhelmingly the language now isn’t “Minister” but “Teaching Elder.”

As I understand it, Teaching Elders can be called to serve a church as pastor. We still have pastors — plenty of them — but those we serve as pastors do so because their ordained Teaching Elders rather than Ministers.

The new language states that “Teaching elders shall in all things be committed to teaching the faith and equipping the saints for the work of ministry (Eph. 4:12). They live out this role in different ways of service.

So, for example, “When [Teaching Elders] serve as preachers and teacher of the Word, they shall preach and teach the faith of the church, so that the people are shaped by the pattern of the gospel and strengthened for witness and service.” The constitution also speaks of Teaching Elders’ service at font and table, as pastors, and as presbyters.

Please note: as opposed to what some folks are saying, the new language does not replace “Pastor” with “Teaching Elder,” rather it uses “Teaching Elder” as the broader office that is lived out in particular ways — as pastor, as teacher, as preacher, as steward of the mysteries of grace.

There’s a lot helpful with this change, I think. For one, it emphases the parity of Teaching Elders and Ruling Elders. Ruling Elders are ordained to spiritual leadership roles. They serve the local church on the Session, and also serve on other councils of the church. As the constitution says, “Ruling elders are so named not because they “lord it over” the congregation (Matt. 20:25), but because they are chosen by the congregation to discern and measure its fidelity to the Word of God, and to strengthen and nurture its faith and life.”

Teaching Elders, just like Ruling Elders are ordained to service because the church recognizes they have particular gifts for ministry. But being a Teaching Elder is no fancier in the Spirit than serving as a Ruling Elder. Different gifts. Same Spirit. One Lord.

But I’m also a bit uncomfortable about the new language for a few reasons. First, Teaching Elder, at first hearing, doesn’t seem to encompass as much — in my mind at least — as Minister. So I wonder if people will hear “Teaching Elder” and not consider the whole realm of service possible. Second, might the Teaching Elder title lead pastors to emphasize teaching too much and forget about pastoral care? Obviously pastors aren’t going to stop caring, but language does have great power. I’m all for teaching — no worries about that — but I’m not sure the great need of the PC(USA) at the moment is more lectures, classes, even Bible studies. Finally, I wonder about ecumenical confusion. The language of “minister” is common among many denominations. Will Presbyterians be forced, in any ecumenical setting, to constantly explain what their office is?

At the end of the day, words are words. But they have power. They have great meaning. So, this former minister who served as pastor, now Teaching Elder serving as Mission Developer, prays this change is for the better.

image by elvis santana

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Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics…in the Pews

Posted on July 11, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

When I served as a parish pastor, every week the bulletin reported how much money was collected during the previous week’s offering. It also noted “total offering collected for the month” in relation to the budget. Reporting these numbers was a tradition in our congregation and is common in this area, but I always felt a little uncertain about this practice.

On the one hand, it’s really helpful for members to know the state of the church’s budget. Noting as much each week might also remind the less assiduous folks to bring their pledges. But on the other hand, I wondered what that line in the bulletin communicated to visitors, especially those without much money. We didn’t report each week how many times we served Jesus, or fed the hungry, or glimpsed the Kingdom. We reported how much money we collected, or not.

Numbers matter, but they’re not the point. Interpreting numbers can get pretty tricky pretty fast.

I recently read with great interest an article on the Online Conference Dashboard instituted by Bishop William Willimon of the Northern Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church. Each Monday pastors supervised by Willimon report statistics on the online “dashboard” about membership, attendance, baptisms, professions of faith, outreach (people serving), outreach (people served), and apportionment dollars paid. Willimon checks out the stats each Tuesday, but it’s all public. You can see the reports here. It’s no great surprise that the approach has reportedly generated its fair share of controversy (though Google turned-up relatively little).

As a mission developer, I make monthly online statistical reports to supervisors at the national church, but the questions are such that I can’t imagine the data is any help whatsoever in interpreting our ministry at The Project F-M. As a former student of Florida’s schools where the statewide standardized test (the FCAT instituted before No Child Left Behind) is often the tail wagging the dog, I have a natural aversion to bureaucrats and statistics. But…

But when people ask how our ministry is going, I often say how many people attended our last event. But when I give my monthly report to our Board, I dutifully report exactly who I met with the previous month. And, if we ever were to the point where someone wished to be baptized, you better believe I’ll take note.

So though I admit a natural skepticism towards Willimon’s dashboard, though I insist it tells too little a story, I do give the conference credit for taking note, for (literally) taking account of their ministry — and for doing so especially in the context of what was (but, I understand, is no longer) a declining conference in terms of overall membership statistics. And, sure, the speed, the public nature, and the frequency of the reports might help combat pastoral laziness and burnout.

[On a side note, I'm not convinced all churches need to grow numerically. I do think, though, they should support other new church plants and innovative ways of ministry even if they themselves are an ideal size.]

The Mary Jacobs article gives a good quick take on some other issues — not all positive –  associated with the dashboards, but the whole thing has me thinking: what questions might I like to ask other than the basic membership, giving, and service stats? What questions might I consider particularly telling for congregations? Here’s a few of my ideas, and I’d love to read some of yours in the comments.

Alternative Questions for the Conference Dashboards

  • For how many of your enemies did you pray in the last week?
  • How many times did you push yourself to an uncomfortable place for Jesus’ sake?
  • How often did you find yourself closed-off to the Spirit doing a new thing?
  • How many Bibles have you worn out from study?
  • How often did you pray your Facebook feed?
  • How often do you respond to a sermon with a specific question or action?
  • Is your faith static, or are you pushing for new ideas, new activities, new insights of the Spirit?
  • How often did you make numbers and statistics your idol?
  • To how many people did you show and tell that Jesus Christ is Lord?
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Explaining the Emergent Church in 500 Words

Posted on July 6, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

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.  Screen shot 2011-07-06 at 3.57.00 PM

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

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God bless the people of every nation

Posted on July 3, 2011 by Adam J. Copeland

“God bless the people of every nation.” That’s what my favorite July 4th shirt says. It was the theme of a July 4 celebration in which I participated several years ago. The quote, I believe, is from David Lamotte.

I used to have a bumper sticker that said the same thing. “God bless the people of every nation.” Often strangers would smile and tell me they liked the bumper sticker as I got in our out of my car. I got several thumbs up while driving. But sometimes conversations around the saying were not so friendly. One Independence Day when I wore the shirt, a man at a July 4th parade approached me almost too angry to speak.

“Why in the world do you wear that shirt today, of all days?”

Because it’s my prayer this day and every day.

He did not understand.

Last week I heard a portion of David Brooks’ speech, a “modesty manifesto,” given at the Aspen Ideas Festival. (You can listen to it here on MPR.) Brooks spoke, quite convincingly, for a return to modesty. Modesty being closely related to humility, Brooks gave example after example of ways our culture once valued modesty — in politics, in classrooms, in international relations, even on the sports field — as opposed to our current obsession with self-promotion and being self-assured. Politicians used to rarely speak about themselves. Now…well, it’s very different.

When pondering modesty, of wishing God’s blessing on all nations and people, two famous quotations come to mind. First, Abraham Lincoln when asked whether God was on his side of the Civil War responded, “Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.” Love it.

Next, I think back to John Winthrop’s famous sermon, “A Model of Christian Charity,” given on board the Arabella in 1630. The sermon is quite a read, but his image from Matthew 5 of a city on a hill has been repeated for nearly 400 years. Here especially, though, modesty matters. As opposed to how the image is sometimes used, Winthrop’s point was that, since their new community would be so easily viewed by others and by God, they should do all that they could to make their community faithful. The “city on a hill” image was a call to be just, not a claim that they already were. Winthrop prefaced the famous lines saying:

Now the only way to avoid this shipwreck and to provide for our posterity is to follow the Counsel of Micah, to do Justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with our God, for this end, we must be knit together in this work as one man, we must entertain each other in brotherly Affection, we must be willing to abridge ourselves of our superfluities, for the supply of others’ necessities, we must uphold a familiar Commerce together in all meekness, gentleness, patience and liberality, we must delight in each other, make others Conditions our own rejoice together, mourn together, labour, and suffer together…

Now, to me, that sounds more like a tough road to plow than an assured claim of instant American exceptionalism. Finally, a contemporary application. A friend passed on this video yesterday, which helpfully invites folks to continue this discussion of the United States, religion, values, and modesty. It’s made by some good folks in New York, “committed to preparing New York City (and the nation) for the 10-year anniversary of 9/11 by promoting civil dialogue, education about religious pluralism, support for the Muslim community, and coordinating events on the day of the anniversary.”

On this Independence Day I’m grateful to be a U.S. citizen (though I’m less thrilled with the current Minnesota state government shutdown). I’m thankful for the many before me who helped make our country a more perfect union. And, on most days, I’m hopeful for the future of our nation. But, let me not be prideful, or boastful, or have on rose-colored glasses. Happy July 4th. God bless the people of every day.

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