Facebook Group: I'm religious not spiritual....wha?

So, on facebook I've been invited by a friend of mine to join the group "I'm Religious, Not Spiritual." Intrigued, I went further to see what this particular group was about and discovered that many friends of mine are already in it--meaning that a fair bit of clergy were represented as well as some other young religious types. At first I thought it might be a sort of tongue-in-cheek group identity--at least I was hoping. It seems, however, that it really is a group responding to that oft-heard response of many non-church-goers to clergy: "Oh, I'm spiritual, not religious!" Meaning that while the individual may not go to church, it doesn't preclude him or her having a faith life and/or experience of God.

Admittedly, I once viewed this answer as the moral equivalent of Bill Clinton's 1992 rendition of "I didn't inhale:" wow, look, you're just lying to my face like I'm stupid or something...
Now that I have more experience with this sort of thing, especially due to my particular kind of work, I have come to a different understanding. Oh, I don't doubt that some people just say this to allude to some kind of churchy practice that they feel may appease the ecclesial powers that be (actual or perceived), I do feel that there is a great bit of truth underlying this statement.

For one thing we are actually spritual beings. So, these spiritual, non-religious people are wholly correct in recognizing this. Furthermore, there is growing disillusion among later generations when it comes to religious institutions. A disconnect has been growing between church and, in particular, younger people. From what I am hearing and reading, people want something tangible, something that can be felt, something that lets them know that God is present to the world. They want this experience to happen directly to them and not through the institution. They want an experience of the divine. Who could deny them this? While I represent the institutional church, I do not cling to it for its own sake. For me it is a tool to my experience, identity and vocation in God. It is the means, not the end. The end is always God, and things that start to get in the way of this should probably be re-evaluated or risk becoming idols. Church is who we are as the body of Christ, not our doctrine, not our buildings, not our hymns even. It is in the experience of being in communion with each other, in a relationship to both God and or fellow diciples that we come together to be Church. And it is in this context that our spiritual natures have full expression and meaning. Thus, I think it is fair to say that "I'm spiritual and not religious."

So, this is why I can't join this particular Facebook group (sorry Rick). Just as I preach that humans must engage with the bible dynamically, I must do the same with the idea of church (lest I be a hypocrite). Not that I'm throwing away 2000 years of hard work and tradition. In fact, many of these things I want to see maintained and re-adapted to the contemporary context. But I don't want us to get stuck in a hard-nose understanding of how church has to be done. Because if the world around us is changing and we refuse to pay attention then we all might as well be inhaling.

Bible Study is starting

Ok, so I have a bible study beginning--very fabulous--and I want to basically use this time with people to reintroduce the bible to them. I want to hear (if they wish to share) everybody's understanding/experience with the bible. We all pretty much have one, even if it isn't much. I am curious because people have many different ideas about what the bible is and what it should be. For some, their experience of the Scriptures has been fabulous, life-changing and powerful. For others, this book has been nothing more than a weapon to discriminate against those who might be different. Remember that movie, Saved? Well, there's a scene in there when, during a heated argument, one girl throws the bible at another (who is in the process of walking away) and hits her in the back with it, all the while screaming about the love of Jesus. Yeah, for some, it's kinda like that. Fortunately, most of us don't believe in bible-throwing.

However, what I've been running into in my conversations with people is an understanding or outside perception, that the bible exists to tell people how to live. I think most of us have had or now have this take on the good book. Hence, when they read it (if they ever do) it reads flat, like reading a phone book. This means then that engagement with the bible is one-dimensional meaning then that it is there to provide information that should go into our heads and stay there. We have to then believe what the bible tells us like we believe what we read in a social studies book. I have one thing to say about this: NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO! This is not what the bible does or is.

The bible is a story--a narrative of a people and their experience of God in the world. In being a story, the bible is then capable of engaging us as whole persons and not just our minds. It is meant to engage our minds and our emotions: our loves, our fears, our anger, or even our utter despair. This means a few things. 1) We can't read it in tiny little verses. Chopping up the bible and taking meaning from a single line of text is like taking a symphony, killing off all the musicians save for one triangle player and having her play, and only her. What's left? Nothing except that one little tinkle of sound which has been robbed of the richness of the composition that would be surrounding it if only the symphony was still around to accompany. The bible is too wonderful to be broken up this way, and far too complicated. 2) It would help to spend some time with the bible, without reading it. It may be that for some, they need to hear the bible read out loud, in its various translations so as to let the story come to life. This may mean acting out part of the story if that's what it takes. 3) The bible is authoritative, but as a story and not as a lawbook. Tricky concept, but doable.

Ok, enough for today!

San Joaquin

Well, the Diocese of San Joaquin has voted to leave the Episcopal Church. Like you do. While I don't know much about this particular diocese, I've always known it was "one of those dioceses:" conservative, not so open to the women priests, and certainly not to the gays. At least, this is what I think I know about the diocese of San Joaquin--it's what I've heard. And while the recent action of said diocese appears to only confirm this perception, I still really don't know these people; given the recent decision, my likelyhood of ever getting to know them is diminished. They have opted to sever their relationship with the Episcopal Church and thus with people like me. My first reaction is to say "Fine, go. You're wrong (and nasty to boot)." But at the same time, I am sad about this. Believe it or not, I feel that we need these people to remain with us even more (not necessarily the attitude, but the people). While I strongly disagree with their action and their interpretation of Christianity, I also need them to remain with me, and hold me accountable and stretch me in my daily faith life.

I am a church planter, I have a particular openness to people who aren't comfortable with many things that the "traditional" church holds to be "true." (humor me while I abuse quotation marks) I also hold a particular understanding of faith that resonates with what these people are telling me on a day to day basis. So far, the people I have gotten involved in my ministry here often hold similar views to my own. But I don't necessarily want this, because I want to avoid my own hypocrisy. I want to be faithful, not right. I want the community i am a part of to be radically open--open in the way that answers with love the inhospility we have all experienced at some point or another. I want it to be open, not merely another exclusive place singing the same old tune, just in a different key. A community, a church, needs to be the model of reconciliation that recognizes differences yet commits to remaining one. It is easy to leave each other, the hard work is remaining in a kind of relationship (notice I am speaking of relationship in a very broad sense.) I don't think Jesus' work made him the most "correct" teacher, the smartest or the most believable. I think his work showed him to be present, showed him committing to breaking bread even with those who would betray him, In remaining linked to all people, Jesus showed us that salvation is not escape to a place like heaven, or even the "church." It is doing the hard work of staying in at-one-ment with each other. I think this might just be eternal life.

Is it Christmas yet?

A friend of mine recently found a website dedicated to answering the question: Is it Christmas yet?

Bible Study/Heresy

I just finished a Bishop Spong book which questions pretty much everything that could be considered a pillar of Christian faith. It was titled Why Christianity Must Change Or Die. You know, subtle. For those who don't know, Bishop John Shelby Spong is well known in Christian circles and particularly in the Episcopal Church where he served as bishop of the Diocese of Newark for many years. What makes him special is his ability to deconstruct traditional Christian understandings of oh, say, the Nicene Creed (problematic), the Trinity (doesn't exist?) or the Divinity of Christ (oh, yeah--he was a guy). Since this blog is not a book review, I'll leave it to the reader to go dig up Why Christianity Must Change for themselves. However, I will say that Spong doesn't embrace any kind of literal understanding of these things, rather he roughly reinterprets these doctrines in a manner so as to allow them to have meaning in his life. As one might guess, this approach usually doesn't fly so well with many people (think modern day heretic burning which usually involves denouncement, pouting, and dramatic exits on the part of those offended). At the same time, he argues that he is speaking to and for a large section of the population who feel and believe in the same manner as he.

So let me add myself to the pyre. I had never read a Spong book (and there are several); however, I was surprised to find that the questions he poses are very similar to the questions and assumptions I run into in my daily conversations with people (I know, bear with me, I've been in Seminary for three years...). Not only that, but I found that often I was on the same page as he was with his questioning of such doctrines as well as in his concern for those with similar perspectives. This is not to say that I hold his ideas exactly, but there is a commonality; furthermore, and more importantly, he is concerned about the faith of individuals who cannot hold the same "literal" beliefs of the traditional church but still possess a spiritual life (which is indeed an aspect of being human). His concern is that the church is not speaking to these individuals and by doing so, only works to futher marginalize itself from the world when it should be in the world, calling it into a new kind of being. I worry about this too. And certainly theology in the church has not always remained static, right? So, yeah, I like what he had to say.

Isn't this precisely what the emerging church is doing as well? Working to seek to speak to a new understanding of reality, in a new generation, that is meaningful to that community, generation, etc? In an effort to begin doing this, I'm going to be meeting with others for bible study, and meet head-on one of the most loved and contested works in the world: Holy Scripture. How does this ancient narrative speak to us today in a way that is neither dismissive nor paralyzing? I'm gonna find out...

What is the Emerging Church?????

Hi everyone! Now that I have returned from the wonderful New York City, I can refocus on those looming questions that I had set aside. Much of what I have been reading over the last three months has fallen under the label (yes, it kinda is a label) of Emerging Church (I have to use something, so let me shamelessly employ this current buzzword--though I am trying not to taint it). One thing I haven't really tackled is offering all you lovely people an overview of what Emerging Church is. To remedy this, I found a nice and concise overview of what might make up an emerging church. Nanette Sawyer, who pastors Wicker Park Grace, an Emerging community in Wicker Park Chicago, posted on her blog a summary of Marcus Borg's understanding of "emerging."
This is by no means an exhaustive overview--there are many manifestations of what it means to be emergent. And this is ok, because each community, each church, has its own context--its own culture. For some people, this aspect of emerging may be threatening; I do not find it so. God is much bigger that one faith tradition, one approach. What I feel emerging does is remind us of the larger truth that is out there, but which we alone cannot fully grasp. We need each other and each other's little holds on truth in order to start approach the whole of what is actually true (of what is God). This is both humbling and empowering and for many of these communities, is uncharted territory.
Is this a different approach from the kind of church you grew up in?

Going' to NYC

Well folks, I'll be off the radar for a few days while I head to the big apple to catch up with some old friends and enjoy the bright city lights. It is a kind of pause in my life right now and a chance to let my head clear and my hair down. I've been processing a lot over the last few months and I have a new question that I wonder if anyone can help me with. In my studies of the emerging church, several "names" have been given to group the various kinds of people that might be involved in a non-traditional church. From what I can remember, they are un-churched (never having been part of any Christian community or formation) de-churched (people for whom traditional church structures are no longer working) and then you have your regular church people (ok, ok, there's no such thing as a "regular" church person, I know...). While these are helpful designations, I want to add a third group that I believe I have run into that may or may not stand on its own, or be more of a sub-group of the de-churched population. For now I would call this group the nominally-churched people. People who have grown up with some kind of Christian background, but seem to lack any kind of consistant exposure to the faith. What I hear when I talk to people who fall into this sub-category is a willingness to talk about God, but difficulty in articulating an experiential sense of God, or understanding of where God might be in his or her life.
A pattern that seems to be emerging is that while there is an understanding of the existence God, and a deeply held sense of who God is to the individual, there does not seem to be a relationship there that goes beyond the thinking part (which is probably a hang-over from the modern church). There is also no sense of community either--like a sense that their relationship with God could or should have an affect on all their other relationships. Now, I don't want anyone to think that I am judging these people to be bad or lost or stupid or anything really negative like that. My question is really more along the lines of how one can bring these individuals, who are very sincerely and really quite interested in God, into a conversation where one can begin to sort through perceptions and misconceptions without leaving these individuals feeliing as if something is being taken away from them or that they are being force-fed theology. Because it seems to me to be one thing to share Christianity with someone unfamiliar with it, and quite another to chat with someone who has a little knowledge, but not enough to have, shall we say, a personal faith narrative?

I don't know exactly, but I ask these things because I want to have these important conversations with people, not be threatening, and figure out how to work into a world that, theologically speaking, is very different from the seminary world I have inhabited for the last three (nearly four) years.

Church Planting

So, how does one plant a church? Ah, the million dollar question... It actually should be asked like this: "How does one tell someone about the Good News of the Kingdom of God and have it transform his or her life?" This is a contextual question, with no one way to answer it. Still, from what I have been reading, it seems that a church planter should use the simplest methods available. I've recently been reading Fr. Vincent Donovan's "Christianity Rediscovered" and his account of evangelizing the Masai people of Africa for the Roman Catholic Church. Now, I have to be honest, I've had a problem with missionary work because of its distinct ties to colonial imperialism and the utter destruction of indigenous culture and community. However, this is not the approach Fr. Vincent uses; instead he simply tells each community he visits the story of Jesus Christ in as simple and as culturally relevant terms as possible. From there he allows these people to form their own understanding of what church is by allowing their culture to inform what church looks like. Fr. Vincent allowed for an authentic response from these communities and by allowing this to happen, the Masai "got it" without loosing their way of life, their dignity or their humanity. What Fr. Vincent did was let go of all that he had come to understand as church: the priesthood, and the sacraments. He did this ot to lose these things, but to enhance them--to become more thus allowing the individuals engaging in them to also become more. What he presented them with was the essential good news of the Bible--he did not spend time trying to explain doctrine or church history, he simply told them the Story. And it was enough.

Church is not about conforming to a particular doctrine, set of values, or type of people: church is an authentic response to the presence of God among us, and the good news she has shared with us. It is experiencing tranformation, participating in it, and inviting others to share the mystery of God with us. God isn't asking us to go to church, she is asking us to BE THE CHURCH.

So, I've been running into a lot of people lately who, unlike the Masai, have had an experience of Christianity and Jesus. I would love for my non-readers to share with me their understanding of Jesus--good or bad.

Mackinac Island

Recently I went to the AMEN conference on Mackinac Island which is held every other year for all the Episcopal Diocese in Michigan (and there are indeed four--count them, four of them). Here is a picture. Mind you, I'm doing this simply to practice inserting pictures in blogs--and its fun!

This is a photo of my sister and I at dinner--we had a great time and of course hit the mystery spot on our way home!

At least God didn't take two weeks off....

Hello again. I seem to have gotten a little behind in my blogging. Well, (sniff) it happens. Ok, down to business: two weeks ago I visited Rob Bell's church Mars Hill in Grand Rapids, Michigan with new friends of mine Chad, Mel, and their two little girls. Chad, who pastors simple churches like the one(s) I am working to start, is familiar with this (gynormous) congregation and her ministers. After the service I met with the house church coordinator and spoke with her to see what they were doing at Mars Hill. I expected to hear about elaborate teams and a well-thought-out plan. Well, they are very organized at Mars Hill and they are indeed very organized with their house churches. The interesting thing that I discovered however, was that they appeared to be finding their house churches a little too artificial (if I heard correctly) and they were looking at new ways of creating authentic community--kinda like what I am trying to here in the Tri-Cities. Wow. I was very surprised to hear this, and pleased. I quess I felt like I was on the right path and truly some days I need to be reassured of this.

So, over the past few weeks I have become aware of a few things that I needed to clarify for myself:

1. I am indeed a church planter--I didn't see myself as such, but its high time I recognized this as the job I've been called to. I remember thinking how I could never see myself doing anything like this and now...

2. That I am not interested in bringing people to Christ. A friend of mine helped me to clarify this point which was very helpful, because while I could say this, I didn't know what to follow it with. I remember talking to another friend of mine who was saying that this is what we as ministers were called to and I remember being uncomfortable with it. Probably some of this unease comes with my evangelical background, but more of it comes from my desire to go beyond bringing people to Christ. It seems that Churches are very keen on getting people "saved," but what comes after that ? Trying to stay saved? No, coming to Christ is a process of following in his footsteps and identifying with him--it is a process of becoming Christ to others. Really, getting saved as a one time thing is easy; being saved as a long-time process is hard. It is this becoming that I want to explore in my communities--I want to know what it looks like to live as a Jesus follower in a very real and practical sense and do it in a way that brings people into a conversation so that they feel comfortable walking with us in which ever way they are comfortable.

3. I'm a sucker for cool liturgy. Actually, I just really like art and want to see it used in church more.

4. I'm still learning how to do this!!!!

Dirt

I apologize to my non-readers for failing to finish up on the Kester Brewin book like I promised. What a shameful Christian I am. Well, let me sum up, but in very much my own words, what Kester was saying when he wrote about dirt. God is not to be found in the swept and kept areas of life, but in the dirt and filth of suffering--in the uncleanliness of our continual failure to love each other well. Churches are uber clean of life. I mentioned this in an earlier blog too; we have removed "church" from everyday existence and it is now, for many people, sterile. I think that this is perhaps why people come to the gritty, charming, and very alive coffee house that I now find myself in. It isn't "clean" like church. There's no vacuumed carpet, its not dusted, instead there is a beaten up wooden floor and rough, marred brick walls. It's lovely because it isn't perfectly clean, one doesn't worry about messing it up because it seems that there is a place all ready for someone to sit down and get comfortable. It feels lived in, therefore life feels present here. Churches can feel empty simply because there's no one in them most days of the week. We have huge sanctuaries dedicated to one or two services a week. The rest of the time they are silent and lonely. Maybe God gets lonely in these quiet spaces so she wanders out to see what is going on in the rest of the world--just a thought. Not only lonely, but bored. Church can feel like wandering into the part of the house your mother has set aside for guests where everything is arrainged perfectly so nothing can be touched. You get in there and look around, look at how pristine everything is, how perfectly positioned the pictures and knick-knacks are, how stain free the chairs and carpeting. You stand in the midst of this place and take in its sameness, its perfection, its silence, its rejection of your desire to live there. It says to you, "there is no place here for your play, for your rest, for you." This place must be maintained as it is, for to do otherwise would be to ruin it.
basically shit needs to happen in church. Church should not be a place where dirt cannot enter into it because as Brewin points out, if dirt can't enter, it cannot be a place where people come to be cleaned. Dirt is a part of life, life must be a part of church, therefore, dirt must be a part of church. We need to know we can enter in, settle down--get comfortable and move the furniture. We cannot consign ourselves to a God who is afraid to get dirty, to enter the darkest parts of our lives and be present there with us. If there is no dirt, there is no need for redemption, and our faith is a sham--a denial of how things really are. We must be willing to acknowledge that we are dirty, bring it with us to our faith community, to worship, and to God. When we start doing this, we can begin to know what it is to truly be clean.
I hope this was clear enough. I'm multi-tasking right now.

Gettin out and about

Well, for the past week or so, I've been getting out and around the tri-cities area trying to make connections with people. This is just not easy, even without a job like mine. Last weekend I joined in the Saginaw and Bay city rowing clubs' regatta row of 13.5 miles (from Saginaw to Bay City) and it was one of the more painful things I've done in my adventuresome life. Why? I'm so glad you asked. When one rows, the hands are rubbed repeatedly over a wooden or plastic ore and this causes blisters--big puffy blisters on the palm of the hand. Also, you must sit up very straight and hold this straight-ness while you row (horrible for chronic slouchers like me). Finally your ass is moving back and forth on a sliding wooden seat that is guaranteed to numb your cheeks for hours to come. And then, when you are finished and your arms cannot possible do another thing, you have to pick up the boat and store it. Joy. Why do I do this? Well, I'm falling in love this sport--also, I meet people. It was recommended to me to do things that I like (definately good advice). So, tomorrow I will be trying to go to a yoga class in Midland and see who I can meet there. Again, this is something I think I would like even though my experience with it is very limited. If I don't make connections, I suppose I will still be incredibly fit right? :)

Yesterday I had the opportunity (which I took) to go to Northwood University and see if I could meet some students. It was Northwood's "Get Connected" day with churches and businesses coming out and putting up displays for students to visit, get info, and most importantly, get stuff. Yours truly didn't have any "stuff" other than some cookies and flyers. There was no way I was going to compete with the Mackinaw Center's Students for a Free Economy; they had an ipod they put up for a raffle. Oh, and t-shirts. To top things off, just next to them was the Evangelical Free church which has more money than God and probably holds his mortgage. They had their twenty-something group advertised and plenty of twenty-something people running the table. They too were giving something away but I couldn't see what it was. This lead me to really think about what I was trying to accomplish because I'm not entirely sure now what that is.

As far as the emerging church is concerned, I'm not sure if there is anyone doing anything like this on college campuses. I should google it, but all that I've read thus far has been off-campus. Can an emerging church even be sustained in a college setting where the community is constantly changing? I will be meeting with two students tomorrow and I am very curious to see if this model is attractive to them or if they would rather have a more traditional college ministry. Frankly, what is the difference between a college ministry and an emerging church? What does a Canterbury club look like? I know the priest in charge of the C-club at NYU was doing services and dinners--pretty much what I want to do. Which makes me jump immediately to the concept of worship in the emergent community--it can look like anything. But is it merely a difference in worship that would set us apart? What about theologically? I have a theology that is very broad, would be considered very liberal, permissive even. I see it as a theology that engages with the world where it is already and not try and make it something it probably shouldn't be (change, however, is still a essential element--obviously the world is still screwed up). Where does that place me with college students? How do I engage them theologically and challenge them without betraying my own values and expect them to be in the same place as I? Would the group even function differently than other college groups? Would we be more "out" in the world or would we function as a social group essentially? See, people tell me that their groups are aimed at bringing people to Christ. This is what I am doing as well, but I also want that relationship with Jesus to extend beyond their minds and into their bodies, their relationships, and their everyday rhythm. I know this is what other groups would claim as well, so again, how is what I am doing different? Maybe I wont' know exactly until I experience it. For now it seems good enough to say that I want Jesus to influence what they do, meaning what they create, rather than influencing what they don't do. To clarify, I want people to worry more about what God is calling them into, rather than what he is calling them out of. Even more simply, I want people to engage with a God that is more about do's than about dont's. Does this help?
I am in such a funny place today. I'm trying to find my way down a path where I have no sight, few guides and a language I've taken away from seminary that doesn't quite work in this context. I'm still being translated into this new area, this new job, this new work that I was not trained to do. So, today is a little hard for me and I woke up tired and a little down. I have to tell myself that I have only been on the job two months and that it isn't my time, but God's. That sounds so cliche that I could choke on it, but really I have no control over any of this and I find that disconcerting. Church has really gotten cliche though too. I think that's why i'm so attracted to the emerging church--because it is a surprising thing. Now, how do I tell others about it? Hmmmm.

Potter's House in Traverse City Michigan

I've just returned to the Tri-Cities from Traverse City where I hung out with the fabulous congregation of Potter's House, a UCC new church plant. They are about two years old and have around fifty (ish) people who attend on a regular basis. You know, (actually, you probably don't but that's another blog) as a deacon, it is my role to SERVE the church and generally that means setting the table (altar) and reading the gospel on Sundays (besides all the service done during the rest of the week). What did I do this past Sunday? I made fondue!!!! This was a first for me--both in making the fondue and in having fondue at church (oh, also the chocolate fountain there was part of my series of fabulous firsts!) The pastor is Corey Sanderson and I met him in his book-filled office on Front Street in TC. If you've never been to Front street or Traverse City, you should check it out--especially in the fall. Lovely time of year to be on the bay and having a hot cup of coffee or tea outside. Anyway, I met Corey at his office where he was preparing for Sunday's service and realized that I shouldn't have been so concerned about dressing up for the service. I was wearing a blue t-shirt, black cardigan, and brown skirt with heels. He met me in jeans, sensible shoes (which he later pointed out to me) and a bowling shirt (which included his name)! I knew then that those days of me showing up to church in a sweatshirt and torn up jeans were not entirely over (with some, er, modification).
So, I meet Corey and get to hear his story and the story of Potter's House. For the sake of space and time, I'll bottom line it for you: relationships--they made friends, one person at a time. If there is one thing for me to take away from everything that I've read and heard, its relationships are key. Real, real, and for real relationships. The fact of the matter is, I don't want anything else either. I am new to this area--I'd like to know people. For real (as my friend Megan would say). The other thing I need to take away from all that I've learned is to be patient. This is going to take some time, like all good things. So, if you're reading this, won't you be my friend? Just kidding--that's weird and if you say 'yes' I may not talk to you for a little bit. Lately my email and phone are a vortex of darkness and worm holes sucking everything into them, but giving nothing back. So I think I'd freak out for a second if something actually did come back. Again, must be patient....

If you're ever in the TC area, check out Potter's House: Sundays at 5:30 on S. Oak.

Here's the web site: http://www.pottershouseucc.org/
I don't know how to insert links yet, so bear with me. Thanks!

Ok, next post I'll finish my thoughts on Kester Brewin's book!

Gifts according to Kester Brewin

Kester Brewin, in his book "Signs of Emergence" proposes that "a conjunctive approach to faith must reevaluate the church's modes of exchange, and that central to our critique of consumerism must be the rediscovery of the transaction of gift." Wha....? Well, simply put, a gift is something that gets passed along, with nothing given for it in return--there is no exchange, a gift is not a commodity for it cannot be bought. In clarifying this for us, Brewing argues that we in our lives of faith enact that faith as a gift to the world--meaning that there is nothing we should expect in return for our work: no greater numbers, no pat on the back, no nuthin'. Because it is not about what we get out of things such as worship, but what we put into them. Let me pause here a moment to snark a bit about the "mega-church worship style" which I have always felt was more commercial than sacred. All that light and music, showmanship and special affects. It always reminded me of the circus; what do we bring to the circus? Nothing except ourselves and our desire to be entertained. At the same time, with the repetition you get in more mainline churches, there is also the same risk of "going through the motions" and not putting any more into it than one would at the non-denominational megachurch. Worship must involve the person as a participant--putting something out there without the need or expectation of getting anything back from it. Not that something won't come back, but that the outflowing of someone's being, personhood, love, is more important than what they are getting out of the experience. But something is going to come back to us. So how does one manage a kind of balance between the giving and eventual reception?
There is a way to keep gifts from becoming an exchange, Brewing points out, and that is to give the gift up to a third party so that the gift actually disappears. Gifts given back and forth are no longer gifts, but exchanges because, of course, there is the expectation that one will recieve something in exchange for his or her gift. Think about what the value of your gift is then. It is merely the value of the thing you will get in exchange. This is what commodities exchanges do for us, teaches what the value of something is in terms of money. In such a model of direct reciprocity, there is no growth, no broadening of one's view, no creativity, and fundamentally, no love. When we emphasize giving, rather than recieving, we can remove ourselves from the consumer identity our society has given us and stop valuing things one-dimensionally (dollars and cents). Instead, we open ourselves up to value things as gifts, with all the meaning and love that goes into making something a gift. It has the potential to reshape how we live and indeed how we worship. A third party, in whom the gift (as Brewin points out) disappears, keeps the gift from making its way directly back to us. This emphasis on giving makes me wonder what the difference then between worship and living would look like. Perhaps the distinction would be lessened? Possibly.
Brewing goes on to point out that gifs are terribly personal, and to allow someone to share his or her gift in the worship sphere allows that individual to worship with "integrity". And see, here is why I really like this book. Brewin's understanding of gift demands that a person have agency. By this I mean that a person can fully engage in the world as faithful Christians and can use this ability to reshape the way we live, worship, pray, and so on. When a person has his or her full ability to act, then the sky is the limit. There is no longer one way to do something, and certainly no one way to be a Christian. We all have gifts given to us, doesn't it seem appropriate that we all have a space in which to share these gifts? And not just certain kinds of gifts, but all kinds which means that we must create flexible spaces to accomodate such variety. Sounds like fun to me.

"Signs of Emergence" by Kester Brewin

I just finished reading this amazing little book by Kester Brewin, a church planter who helped to found the the alternative worship group Vaux in England. Vaux is a group of artists and city lovers who use their gifts to create worship that is culturally relevant and meaningful to those in the community. After reading this book, I got the distinct impression that their worship style can be rather provocative. Good for them.
Brewin's understanding is that church has to happen on the "edge of chaos" where the rawness of life meets its own ability to self-organize and create some kind of order, meaning that the church should be formed from the bottom up, organically, naturally, without centralized power or leadership. It is a community formed out of the participation of all who are involved and it brings into that community the whole of these individuals' lives and joins them together in the body of Christ. As I read, there was one section in particular that stood out. It has to do with cities, gifts and dirt.
In regards to cities, Brewin points to the spirituality of these places, arguing that God is calling us to the cities and not from them; we are just as capable of finding God in the city as we are in 'nature.' He writes:

In building cities, human hands have taken divine materials and worked them to create new ones. Thus the very fabric of the city is testament to the cooperation between God and humanity. It is a co-creation, a partnership where God has provided the raw materials and we have worked them into fabulous architectural masterpieces full of light and space, allowing the free movement and congregation of people, exchanging ideas and technologies...soaring skycrapers cloaked in glass, brownstone apartment blocks and Manhattan townhouses, expansive docks and arching bridges...and slums and tenement blocks and concrete monstrosities and gluttonous penthouses and temples to money and mean streets. In our cities, life's rich tapestry is woven altogether, and it tells the full story of the triumphs and disasters of our urban project. We have built perfect testaments to the human situation: taking God's gifts and simultaneiously using and abusing them. Both our divine heritage and rebellious creativity are betrayed in our buildings.

This is a very long quote. Sorry all my non-readers, but for someone who came out of very rural Northern Michigian and who also lived for three years in New York City, what he has to say is astounding. For me, God was always in the trees, the sky, the earth--cities were those places that drowned out God with congestion and noise. After living in New York though, I discovered that it is true that God has not turned his back on the cities, in fact, he is there waiting for us to join in. There is so much life that happens in cities, so much beauty, so filled with ugliness as well.
I witnessed this life happening in Saginaw last Sunday night. It was a cool evening, there were soft lights illuminating the near-by narrow brick "bread-box" buildings' store fronts. People were wandering all around, there to watch Napoleon Dynamite from a parking lot along side one of these buildings. There was pizza to eat, people to meet, and life teeming all around Old Towne. This in a city that, from what I have been told, has pretty much been kicked while it was down (economically speaking)over the last several years. But here were all these people coming together in a community event; some were volunteers, there because they wanted to make a difference--because they cared about the once thriving city of Saginaw.

I want to do that too because I feel like God is already there, calling me and others to join in a kind of common life.

More on Gift and Dirt later!

Jesus in the Tri-Cities

Now that I have been around and meeting people, talking to people in emergent communities and reading lots of books, it seems that now is a good time to stop and ask: "What have I learned so far?"

Hmmmm...

That while I am called to the work of evangelism, I am not an Evangelist nor evangelical. I'm an Episcopalian with a twist. :)

That because people tell me that there is nothing for younger single people and no younger single people in this area that we have an opportunity to create something for this demographic to participate in and help create. There are a lot of churches in Midland, but not everyone likes going to traditional church.

that Saginaw needs people to love her. Oh, don't misunderstand me, there are people there loving her right now, but she needs lots of love from lots of people.

That Jesus is already present here, we just need to make ourselves aware of it.

I'm searching for a new way to live, a new way to be Christian. I want it to be fun, life-giving and tangible. I want to see what my faith looks like in my own two hands as they reach out for another's.

Of course, I only have more questions too...

What is it to live everyday as a Christian in a relational, connected, non-judgmental manner? What is it to fall in love with the very things God has fallen in love with? What if we were to think about growing into ourselves rather than out of ourselves? How do we practice radical hospitality? Better yet, how do I practice radical hospitality? What am I afraid of and how do I overcome it? Where are the communities God is calling me into? Where are yours?

My New Job

My name is Sarah Fossati, I'm ordained and I have the coolest job in the world. My title is Missioner to Young Adults and while this works for the diocese that hired me, I don't really like it. There's nothing inherently wrong with the title, its just that when I hear churchy words combined with words like "young" I think of church basements filled with pizza and movies while pastors/leaders try to keep pace with the "young". In short, I think of youth group--for teenagers. I'm not the only one either; many have come up to me (very kindly, with a desire to help) with the understanding that I'm going to be working among kids. But noooooo!

I'm actually going to be working with adults--that's right, people who can vote. And we're not going to be in church basements (or in churches really), we're going to be in homes, bars, cafes and nice little meeting places on campuses where everyday life happens because, really, when was the last time that you saw "everyday life" happen in the church? The closest I've seen recently is when a baby threw up on a friend of mine who was baptizing the baby--otherwise, church is pretty clean and life-free.

If you're reading this and thinking, 'Hey! I like church and plenty of life stuff happens there' then you probably hate me. That's ok, but let me finish. I'm not saying that profound and wonderful life moments don't happen in church, I'm saying that most of life has been separated from the church and most profoundly with our use of space. YOu know why the altar rail is there? Because back in the day, the priests need to keep ANIMALS away from the altar. What in the name of God were animals doing there!? Well, people kept them like people always have. Church was happening where people's lives were also happening. This isn't the case anymore. The worship area has become particular, sacred, sterile and devoid of animals, life activiies such as cooking, cleaning and even meals, which is the supreme irony because we come to church (in my church) to share at the Lord's Table.

I love church, and I get a lot out of traditional services, but I am also excited to be working with young adults to create churches that arise out of the everyday, profane realm of common life in order to bring Christianity into the everyday of someone's life and not just Sundays, or even not at all. This is my job: to be a kind of church planter among 18-30 year olds. What does a church like this look like? I'm not sure, but I can't wait to find out.

I came here looking for someone

And now I have a blog.

Super