I’m in a teaching and technology mode at the moment — taught a sunday school class via Skype last weekend on faith and technology, planning a workshop on postmodern worship for this weekend, and beginning to map out a presbytery event on stewardship and technology for the fall. This, plus a conversation with a friend this week got me thinking: how can we best make worship more social media and technologically friendly?

I know the question scares the bejesus out of many, but hear me out. I’m not looking to make worship “hip” or “relevant,” just because. No, instead I’m building on the great traditions of worship and thinking how we might, as we have done in so many ways over the years, incorporate new technologies into the mix. Just as electric microphones enhanced the spoken voice so sermons could be heard by many, I wonder how smartphones and iPads might make our worship more faithful.

Here’s a small wimpy example, but its mere ease hints and what we may do in the future. When I taught Confirmation last fall, one week our scripture lesson for Confirmation happened to be the same as the lectionary text for Sunday. I noticed this just minutes before confirmation class. So, at the end of class, I asked the students to record a dramatic reading of the scripture lesson which we then played over the speaker system during the scripture reading time on Sunday morning. It was all really simple. I emailed the file to myself and burned it to a CD. The whole process from recording to CD took ten minutes or so. But, by it we managed to present the word in a compelling way that lifted up the gifts of our Confirmation students without focusing on the technology itself.

But that’s not really what I’m talking about. I’m wondering, instead, how we can truly harness the benefits of social media technology in worship.

I’ve known conferences to show prayers requests from conferees’ Twitter feeds during the Prayers of the People. I’ve known congregations to ask their members to text questions to a designated phone during the sermon time so the pastor can incorporate answers in her address. And, of course, there’s the “old” having the scripture passage projected  on a screen while it’s being read. But none of that really taps into the major benefits of social media if you ask me.

I feel like there’s got to be something better. Like we’re just scratching the surface. Here’s a thought experiment: pretend someone gave your congregation $1,000,000 to increase your Internet and social media ministry. What would you do with it?

In one of my presentations I referred to the danger of making smartphones our idols. I mean that. I do think there’s a real danger in holding so much power in small gadgets that we lose our focus on the God from whom all ultimate power comes. Maybe I just need to shut up and turn off my smartphone and worship in peace. But…

…but, then again, if my smartphone positively supports — even strengthens — my home life, work life, and social life then why can’t it positively enable my participation in corporate worship as well?

On my first day as a parish pastor, I came into the church office and the secretary causally mentioned, “a few people might come by for coffee later.” Well, a few people turned out to be half the church! We moved to the fellowship hall after a while and chatted over coffee — oh, and there were dozens of tasty home-baked snacks too.

Starting a new position as a pastor is funny. You have boxes to unpack and pictures to hang, but mostly you have people to meet. Who’s sick at the moment? Who are the movers and shakers in your congregation? Who is grieving? You don’t know where people live or who’s related to whom, but you know you need to meet them.

And then there’s always that first pesky worship service to plan and sermon to write.

This week I started a different sort of call as mission developer for The Project F-M, a new vision and venture for a 21st century faith community in Fargo-Moorhead. Nobody has stopped by the office this week. Nobody has made muffins. And, in what feels like a very strange personal turn-of-events, I don’t even have a worship service to plan or sermon to write.

But, my instincts tells me, the same basic idea applies no matter how established (or un-established) the faith community is: build relationships, foster community.

How about this for a contrast? When I arrived, the 125 year-old rural congregation I served had an inactive Facebook page with two dozen people. The emerging faith community I just began with already has a Facebook page with over 250 people. So, instead of visiting hospital rooms, I’ve found myself visiting Facebook pages and Twitter accounts. Instead of making another pot of coffee for the fellowship hall, I check out a new coffee shop (all of which boast wireless Internet, of course).

One of the questions I can already see our group asking a lot in the coming months is: what is a faith community? I’ve been intrigued this week by something Peter Rollins, a leader in the emergent church in England, said of the faith collective he helped form,

[We don’t call it a “community”] because as soon as you say that word all of the people who need community come out—the group turns incredibly needy, and suddenly the whole thing is on its way to vanishing. The best way to forge community is not to call it a community. We call Ikon a collective, a gathering or a crowd. People naturally make connections, and community happens.

Community happens, except when you call it “community.”

On Monday, NPR’s Talk of the Nation welcomed Elijah Anderson, a sociologist who has published a book on spaces that allow a place for people to let their guard down and naturally feel comfortable enough to interact with strangers. Anderson calls these places “canopies.” For example, think Reading Terminal in Philadelphia, or old-fashioned barber shop, or a communal table at a coffee shop, or the feeling a whole town gets when they are united by a local team winning a national sports championship. These canopies, Anderson writes, are places where racial barriers and prejudices momentarily lift and a new type of community is enjoyed if ever so briefly.

To this pastor, Anderson’s description of the cosmopolitan canopy sounds a lot like the kingdom of God — or at least it’s a glimpse into a new vision of Spiritual friendship, one that connects folks in a heightened sense of community.

In his play, “The Rock” T.S. Elliot asks, “What life have you if you have not life together?” Indeed. So how do established churches — and emerging faith communities — best connect those lives? How do we build new communities of faith that might, just might, give us a glimpse of the kindgom of God?

image by Stephanie Hofschlaeger

Additional Resources from www.TheThoughtfulChristian.com

• Parables at Work, by John C. Purdy
• “Is God in the Workplace?” by Steve Shussett (Adult Study)

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.

As the pastor of a small rural church in northwest Minnesota, until recently the only time I mentioned “Egypt” was when reading scripture in worship. We’re situated many miles from a stoplight and thousands of miles from the troubles in the Middle East, but last Sunday in our adult class, “Where is God When Disaster Strikes?” someone addressed Egypt within the first five minutes. Depending on one’s perspective, the unrest there is a “disaster” or “a long-awaited political awakening,” but no matter its description, shockwaves from Egypt are traveling to every corner of the globe. So, of course, we in the church must talk about it.

At many points over the years, and particularly after the shooting in Tucson a few weeks ago, I’ve heard this story told: Jane hadn’t been to church for many years, but after the September 11 attacks, Jane went to worship on the Sunday following the disaster. Not a word of the liturgy or from the pastor specifically addressed Sept 11, and Jane hasn’t been back to worship since. I don’t generally like planning worship or preaching out of fear, but I take the point of the story that worship — and presumably all church life — should address current problematic issues of the day. When we don’t, we fall short.

But what can congregations do to address the current turmoil in Egypt and the Middle East? It’s tricky, but here’s a start:

• Get educated. Sure, not every church can invite a Middle East expert to lead Sunday School, but with the resources of the web surely we can at least help our congregations spread some basic knowledge.
• Don’t be places of gossip. Conspiracy theory emails and nonsense stories tend to spread in tumultuous times. Help your congregation be a place to quash rumors.
• Embrace challenges, fears, and concerns. You don’t have to be a Middle East expert to hold a conversation on how to approach troubled times. Sometimes simple statements can go a long way like, “Some of the images we see on TV are difficult to watch. Sometimes I don’t know what to think, but I know God can work through anything, and is even in the midst of chaos.”
• Pray — in small groups, with prayer chains, and in corporate worship. (Examples of Presbyterian leaders’ prayers are here, and an ELCA statement is here)
• Make it personal. Lift up stories members can relate to — like, for me, a local student studying abroad in Egypt.
• When in doubt, tell the broad story of God’s love, redemption, and coming transformation rather than connect current-day particular events to “God’s will” or judgement.

Today’s troubles are in Egypt, Tunisia, and the broader Middle East, but other troubles in other regions are sure to come. Though it’s sometimes easier to ignore complex world events, Christ calls us do otherwise. As Wendy Farley puts it, “When hearts become stable in the midst of disaster and face down their despair, when communities stand firm in the integrity of conscience and compassion as temptations to spiraling corruption rage, we feel the blowing of the Spirit in our midst.”

Additional Resources from www.TheThoughtfulChristian.com

• The Collected Sermons of William Sloane Coffin, Volume One
• The Collected Sermons of William Sloane Coffin, Volume Two
• “Introduction to the Middle East,” By Elias D. Mallon (Adult Study)
• Check Out All of Our “Understanding Our World” Studies

also posted at the CENTURY Blog

The church is not known for responding quickly to cultural change. But really: almost seven years after Facebook launched, with thousands of pastors using Twitter, and NPR running stories on how Facebook and texting may break up marriages, I figured many churches, regional bodies and even denominations would have developed social media policies by now.

Yet a recent search turned up limited results:

• The Episcopal Diocese of Connecticut has some social media guidelines.
• Holy Trinity Catholic Church in Washington, D.C., shares its policy on its website.
• Church Crunch has tips on how to make your own guidelines.
• The last PC(USA) General Assembly enjoyed this policy.
• A few bloggers have thought about such issues–David Pickett, Bruce Reyes-Chow–and I shared my personal Facebook guidelines in a recent post here.

Maybe my search skills and personal contacts are more limited than I realize, but after a few days of searching I found a dearth of church social media policies. I expect the main reason is that policies like this often develop because of misuse and abuse, not before it. So, sadly, when sexual misconduct by pastors and others by way of social media becomes more common, the policies will follow.

Please tell me I’ve missed some policies. Has your church discussed the appropriate use of social media by pastors and youth leaders? What standards do you use? Bonus points for links to more policies.

image by liquene, some rights reserved

I learned a new word recently and then encountered it three times that day. “Retrosexism” hasn’t made it into the Oxford English Dictionary yet, but a Google search turns up several thousand hits, and Newsweek noted last month that “the term ‘retrosexual’ has all but replaced ‘metrosexual’ in the lifestyle sections of national magazines.”

If a metrosexual male is all about fashionable clothes, designer hygiene products, willingness to show emotions, and general open-minded eschewing of traditional masculinity, a retrosexual is the opposite. Retrosexuals reclaim the old notion of men who care little about their appearance and harken back to a more classic understanding of masculinity, no hair product allowed.

“Retrosexism” is the sexism that can accompany these retrosexual attitudes. Often this includes an ironic twist: the retrosexual understands that an idea is offensive but persists anyway, assuming a free pass since he knows it’s sexist. Anita Sarkeesian calls this the “I know that you know that I know” approach to unacceptable sexist behavior:

Retrosexism often glorifies sexism of the past with the double logic that, since folks know the attitude is sexist, it’s somehow okay to look the other way. Think of jokes that end with punch lines about what an old-fashioned grandfather might say about gender relations. Or consider an otherwise forward-thinking college guy winkingly telling a female friend to do his laundry.

Call it “retrosexism” or just plain “sexism.” The objectification and undervaluing of women continues to get a pass in our culture. This is wrong; it’s sin. But I’m betting that it will become more common in our churches in the near future. As women finally make significant inroads into equitable leadership and encounter fewer sexist attitudes in the church, there will be a backlash. Congregational presidents will joke about a pastor not truly deserving maternity leave. Masculine homiletics will attempt to crowd out the feminist voice.

Also, since retro culture tends to look backward with rose-colored glasses, perhaps the church will increase—if this is possible—its glorification of the past. This might include snippets such as “Back in the day before woman pastors” or “I remember when we didn’t need female representation on the church council.”

Maybe I’m wrong about this. I hope so—not everything retro is worth bringing back.

Anyways, I thought I’d post the recent statement from PC(USA) leaders in response to the AZ immigration law, SB 1070.  I’ll post the text here, though there’s some good discussion (so far, at least) going on at Bruce’s blog here.  As always, statements such as these beg two questions: (1) what of the folks in the PC(USA) who disagree with our denominational position statements on immigration and (2) who really cares about a statement from the PC(USA) these days?  I’ll be addressing more of these types of questions this summer when I’ll be blogging our General Assembly for The Presbyterian Outlook, but if folks would like to get the discussion going now I’m game.  Without further ado, here it is:

April 29, 2010

Dear Members of Congress,

We write to express our conviction that you must enact comprehensive immigration reform this year. As people of faith and the leaders of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), we are keenly aware of the devastating effects our broken immigration system has on the lives of individuals, immigrant and non-immigrant families, and our communities. The bigotry, trauma, and fear that will result from the recent new law enacted in Arizona, SB 1070, which criminalizes those who are found “with” undocumented persons and requires law enforcement officers to identify and detain such persons, serves to underscore the necessity of action at the federal level.

Churches are on the front lines of caring for families being ripped apart by our broken immigration system. Traumatized citizen children left behind when parents are deported are but one example of the ways the current system destroys the fabric of community life, the integrity of healthy families, and the safety of individual persons. Church workers are also at the forefront of offering relief and services to immigrants, regardless of documentation status. Arizona’s new law will put at risk those workers and others who are called simply to offer the most basic of humanitarian assistance. As Christians, we cannot stand by idly while our brothers and sisters die on our borders from exposure and thirst or languish in poorly equipped detention facilities, nor should we be required to do so by any law.

The new Arizona law also puts in jeopardy the public safety of immigrant communities, already wary of law enforcement for fear of deportation. Instead of new laws that induce fear and distrust, immigrants should be encouraged to participate with law enforcement, reporting crimes when they are victims and offering testimony when they are witnesses. Such trust and participation is impossible if local law enforcement is tasked with enforcement of federal immigration laws. SB 1070 will only foster more fear among immigrant communities, regardless of documentation status. Comprehensive immigration reform at the federal level is essential to override and counteract the damage done in Arizona by this new law.

In the Scriptures of Christians and Jews, we are commanded, “When an immigrant resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the immigrant. The immigrant who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the immigrant as yourself for you were immigrants in the land of Egypt” (Lev. 19:33-34). The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) therefore supports congressional action in 2010 on comprehensive immigration reform that creates a process for undocumented immigrants in the U.S. to earn their legal status; reduces waiting periods and upholds family unity; protects workers from exploitation; and provides efficient channels of entry for new migrant workers.

Sincerely,

Bruce Reyes-Chow
Moderator, 218th General Assembly (2008)

Gradye Parsons
Stated Clerk of the General Assembly

Linda Bryant Valentine
Executive Director, General Assembly Mission Council

County health officials sent our congregation — and presumably all in the region — a letter a few weeks ago regarding H1N1. They suggested that communion from a common cup be stopped, and that the passing of the peace be altered so that it did not necessitate hand shakes or hugs. Now you could read that two ways: 1) what in the world is the government doing telling us how to practice our religion or, 2) isn’t that wonderful that the county cares so much for its citizens it suggests ways to stay healthy, even in church.

Before I arrived in Hallock, the congregation made a few announcements in worship to suggest that people might want to welcome their neighbor with a friendly “hello” and a smile rather than a hand shake.  A few weeks later, I’m not sure the message stuck as every person shook my hand heading out the door last Sunday — or my leadership was so bad that they wanted to infect me and get rid of me quick!

Perhaps all this H1N1 worry gets into culture of fear issues — homeland security threat level raised to burnt orange — or, perhaps it is a real health concern that we should take completely seriously. Since, in my lifetime I do not remember any flu scare such as this, I’m willing to take things quite seriously. Even more so, I’m willing to spread the word.

I’m all for action, but with H1N1, it seems the best I can do is sneeze into my elbow and wash my hands often. I’m even willing to use that goopy hand sanitizer from time to time. And yes, I can help spread the word (and shutdown folks overreacting). But, other than that, it seems there’s nothing to do. Which is frustrating. So I just wrote a blog post about it. Now I’m off to serve my country and…. wash my hands.

image by Marcos Santos

This week on her blog, One Hand Clapping, Julie Clawson reports on some downtown Austin churches requesting the city to do something about the number of races downtown on Sunday mornings. Julie’s post is very timely, as I was planning a post on similar things this week.

Last Sunday morning I ran the ING Half Marathon in downtown Atlanta (the perks of not having a regular Sundaysunday morning gig this year). Though only in its third year, the race has quickly become an Atlanta tradition and registration was filled a few weeks before the race. 15,000 folks competed.

Last year I rode my bike to church the morning of the race because I knew I couldn’t get to downtown Decatur during the marathon. If you’re trying to go to church with an early service in downtown Atlanta on the race morning, you’re pretty much stuck. The race, its fans, and the cordoned off streets are certainly a big bother to area churches. There’s nothing a like a good bother to complain about, but a few other ponderings come to mind.

First, it strikes me wonderfully ironic that the runners are using their bodies and mass transport for the race, while church members tend to be driving into downtown from suburbs. When these great downtown churches were built, folks walked to church. Now they can’t get to church because of walkers and runners.

Second, at least in Atlanta, the race organizers promise they’re not out to get the churches, Rather, Sunday morning is the only time it’s safe and legal to shut down streets for 6 hours. You can’t do that on Saturday mornings in Atlanta — the only other big races are on Thanksgiving and July 4th.

Third, though I can’t speak to the frequency of races in Austin, I think the Atlanta one, at least, is here to stay. And let’s face it, it’s a great community event — one that emphasizes bodies and health. I’ll be honest: nothing last Sunday from any of the churches we passed made me want to attend that church. On the other hand, there were stores of all kinds giving out water, Georgia Tech had a huge crowd out, Race for the Cure people were everywhere, and local neighborhoods were out with bands and cheering squads and bull horns. I might want to live in Decatur because of their fantastic cheering section, or support Agnes Scott College who let the marathoners run through their campus, but last Sunday morning I saw no church welcoming the stranger.

I was in my favorite Decatur running store this week when I mentioned the church complaint thing. And the guy at the counter said, “You know what I don’t understand is why the churches don’t bring folks out and cheer. Why don’t they sign-up to give out water? Isn’t it like a mission opportunity or something?”

His words, not mine, but I think he’s on to something.