It Takes A Church...

The Day I Gave Up My Church Membership

It was a good day.  A day where I truly felt, even though others might have questioned, that I was saying “yes” to God’s will on my life.  It was a day that came after a long season of reflection and consideration.  It was a day where I made good on a decision that I knew would shape me the rest of my life.  It was the day that I gave up my church membership.  And I haven’t been a member of any church since that day March 21, 1993.  That was the day that I was ordained a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church USA.

Most church members, including Presbyterians, don’t much catch the significance of this little piece of polity.  Pastors are members of Presbyteries not churches.  While we all “serve” a church, we “belong” to a Presbytery.  For pastors, the Presbytery is our “home” and the Presbytery is the “covenant community” for us.  At least that’s what it says on paper.  But what does that mean, really? 

As I become more fully engaged in the work of the Middle Governing Body Commission, I have begun to think about more than “organizations” and “structures” but about “covenants” and “communities” and “relationships”.  I have also begun to think about "mission" and "values" and what "belonging" and "membership" truly mean.  And mostly, I have  to admit that while my mind has long affirmed that I am a member of my Presbytery, my heart is clearly with my congregation.

 I love the church I serve.  I have been here over 13 years.  It has truly been the answer to my prayers and God gift to the desire of my heart.  Beth and I prayed for God to call me to some place where we could serve the mission of Christ and raise our children and God did.  In so many ways, the church “fits” me.  In so many ways, I truly “fit” it.  We are a good match for each other. 

But, I must remind myself, I am not a member. 

My wife and teenage children are members.  But I am not.  It’s “their” church; it’s the church that I pastor. 

Far too often I refer to SCPC as “my” church.  And while it is an indication of my affection for these people, it is also, truth be told, a glimpse at my ego run amok… the church isn’t “mine” in any sense is it? It’s Jesus’ church truly and the members church, really. 

I am not a member.  I am the church’s pastor.

But what does it mean, really, for pastors to be members of a Presbytery?  For most of us, and frankly for most of my career, not much.   I gave up my membership in a church almost twenty years ago, but I have ever truly “joined” a body since? No wonder so many of us feel like orphans.

What it would take for more of us to emotionally “join” our Presbyteries? 
What would it take to truly embrace the shared calling for mission, the vision of the Presbytery as a witness to the unity of the Church (as it says in our constitution)?
In what ways can Presbyteries function more like a “body” where the “members” fulfill their callings and where each pastor feels “at home”?

These are just some of the questions rolling around in my head as our Middle Governing Body Commission listens to the church and prepares to meet again next week.  I’d be interested in what others of you have to say.

Billy Graham on Aging, Regrets, and Evangelicals | Christianity Today | A Magazine of Evangelical Conviction

CT: If you could, would you go back and do anything differently?

BG: Yes, of course. I'd spend more time at home with my family, and I'd study more and preach less. I wouldn't have taken so many speaking engagements, including some of the things I did over the years that I probably didn't really need to do—weddings and funerals and building dedications, things like that. Whenever I counsel someone who feels called to be an evangelist, I always urge them to guard their time and not feel like they have to do everything.

I also would have steered clear of politics. I'm grateful for the opportunities God gave me to minister to people in high places; people in power have spiritual and personal needs like everyone else, and often they have no one to talk to. But looking back I know I sometimes crossed the line, and I wouldn't do that now.

via www.christianitytoday.com

TEB: Worth any preacher's pondering... Less Preaching, less politics. More time with family, more time in the study. Wise advice from a respected sage.

There is no substitute for the gift of discernment, no set of rules nor institutional polity by which we can be released from the responsibility for discernment. The world can never be made safe from all possible risks. The Faith must ever be placed at risk in the commerce of ideas.
~ Lesslie Newbigin #mgbcomm

Change vs. Transition

With thanks to Rhett Smith for the Facebook Note that he wrote that contained this gem.

In the book, Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes, William Bridges differentiates the two very nicely:

"Our society confuses them constantly, leading us to imagine that transition is just another word for change. But it isn’t. Change is your move to a new city or your shift to a new job. It is the birth of your new baby or the death of your father. It is the switch from the old health plan at work to a new one, or the replacement of your manager by a new one, or it is the acquisition that your company just made.

"In other words, change is situational. Transition on the other hand, is psychological (bold added for emphasis). It is not those events, but rather the inner reorientation and self-redefinition that you have to go through in order to incorporate any of those changes into your life. Without a transition, a change is just a rearrangement of the furniture. Unless transition happens, the change won’t work, because it doesn’t ‘take.’ Whatever word we use, our society talks a lot about change; but it seldom deals with transition. Unfortunately for us, it is the transition that blind-sides us and is often the source of our troubles."

Place: One of the Ten Most Significant Cultural Trends of the Last Decade : Andy Crouch

At the Q gathering in 2010, urbanologist Richard Florida observed that young adults meeting one another no longer ask, “What do you do?” They ask, “Where do you live?” More and more people will change careers in order to stay in a place—connected to family, friends, and local culture—than will change place to stay in a career. The 20th-century American dream was to move out and move up; the 21st-century dream seems to be to put down deeper roots. This quest for local, embodied, physical presence may well be driven by the omnipresence of the virtual and a dawning awareness of the thinness of disembodied life.

via qideas.org

The more "connected" we are technologically (trend #1), the more we long for genuine community. The whole article by Andy Crouch is worth considering as we start this new decade.