Faith and Fruitfulness

It is summer here in California, which means we get to enjoy the bounty of fresh, non-shrinkwrapped summer fruit that does not have to travel long distances to reach us. When we talk about "fruitfulness" in our Christian lives, I think a lot about the freshness and flavor of such fruit. The Bible also is full of references to fruitfulness, not least in last Sunday's letter from St. Paul to the Colossians:

"You have heard of this hope before in the word of the truth, the gospel that has come to you. Just as it is bearing fruit and growing in the whole world, so it has been bearing fruit among yourselves from the day you heard it and truly comprehended the grace of God." -- Colossians 1:6-7

I was thinking about this passage as well as the Parable of the Good Samaritan on Saturday, when it happened.

It was the classic preacher's nightmare--you finish your sermon, put it to bed, prepare to go do bed yourself and suddenly you hear of an event you cannot not include in your sermon--such was the case with me and likely thousands of my colleagues when we heard of the verdict in the case of the killing of Treyvon Martin late Saturday night. Juxtapose that with the fact that the Gospel appointed for last Sunday was the Parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus' answer to the question "Who is my neighbor?" and you have the need for late night or early morning sermon revision.

I didn't say a lot about the verdict and am still thinking about what would be the most helpful thing to say about it. In my sermon, I did reflect on the fact that St. Edward's is a typical suburban Episcopal church largely composed of relatively well-off white people who "drove here in decent cars, know that we will have lunch after church, have a place to sleep tonight, and are unlikely to be hated or feared in the next 24 hours." I also noted, as Marty Kaplan wrote, that "we have been taught to be helpless and jaded rather than to feel that we are empowered and can make a difference." After having attended a recent conference called the World Domination Summit (WDS) with 2,800+ people whose collective goal is to "live remarkable lives in a conventional world" I was keenly aware that the church is pretty much out of touch.

I can't tell you the number of blog entries I've read, conferences I've attended, books I've dug into, and conversations I've had about "growing the church." Some of them are great, most are encouraging, all of them pretty much focus on how to doing what we're doing better than we're doing it. Some even are designed to encourage discouraged clergy who are taking care of struggling, vulnerable churches. 

Few people in these conferences are talking about changing the world, and none has 2,800 people.

What I learned from my experience at WDS was that there are a tremendous number of people, mostly younger than I am but a few older, who look at the world and have a burning desire to be a part of, if not lead, positive change. Few consider the church to have any part in that effort. I detected a few references to Jesus during my time at WDS, a song about Lazarus coming out of the tomb, and some discussion of the Christian community by Donald Miller, author of Blue Like Jazz, but mostly the church was absent from the discussion.

What I talked about in my sermon on Sunday is that few younger people are interested in joining a church of passive privilege--they  have better things to do with their time and money than being a part of a group of people who they perceived to be disengaged and insulated from the world's struggles and either unwilling or unable to make any meaningful contribution to the goal of changing the world. If we want to grow the church and draw new people in, we will need to be a church worth being a part of. We will need to be a church of people whose faith bears fruit.

How do we do that? Three ideas spring to mind:

1. Be aware of the many blessings we have in our lives and be actively grateful and generous, knowing that we are blessed to be a blessing to others.
2. Be proactive in addressing the injustices of the world, not fearfully reactive and hiding behind walls of safety and privilage.
3. Be intentional about growing and being fruitful in our faith, knowing that we can always be better disciples of Jesus than we are now.

There is much more to unpack about all of this, but the above is a good start.

Pressing on Towards the Goal

I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 12b-14

This past Sunday morning, coincidentally on the tenth anniversary of September 11, 2001, I announced that we had reached the point in our life together where we needed to be about the work of (re-)planting St. Edward's and announced that we were formally beginning that replanting effort. Replanting a church means re-launching the church in a fresh new way that honors the past yet looks towards the future. In other words, while we do have already existing buildings, budgets, and committed members, we need to look to the world and essentially say "We're planting a new church. How should we go about doing that, assuming we were just starting out with nothing?"

There are two challenges we face as we re-plant St. Edward's. The first challenge is that our mission context is vastly different from the one that existed 55 years ago at our first "planting." The culture of sometimes explicit, often tacit, social supports to our faith--often called "Christendom"--is dead and is not returning. The world outside our doors is almost completely secular and often, at best, looks upon the church as a curious anachronism of a bygone era. It is thus a huge challenge to convince any twenty-first century American that church has anything to say that would be applicable, much less transformational, to his or her life.

That is not to say that people are not spiritually hungry and thirsty--they very much are. Sometimes, especially around significant life events, the pull of ritual and church ceremony exerts itself. This past weekend we had over 200 people at St. Edwards. Those people were spread over four services (two funerals, our 9 a.m. Eucharist, and the 9/11 commemorative service) but I would like to think that we made at least a minimal impact for Christ on the life of each person who came through our doors. Note that since neither of the funerals were for current members, fully three-fourths of the people who sat in our pews at some point during the weekend were not our members. This doesn't even count the many Christian brothers and sisters who were here as part of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church that meets in our church building on Saturday mornings! It also doesn't include the many twelve-step or other groups that use our social hall and Fireside Room. Clearly our buildings have been and continue to be well used by God, if not necessarily by us.

The key, of course, is (to use Diana Butler Bass' terminology) to help the spiritual "tourists" who are here for a single experience to join us as spiritual "pilgrims" on a long journey of faith. To even hope to do so, we have to admit to the second challenge: we often succumb to "tourist Christianity" (my term) ourselves. We sometimes think of our financial contributions to the church as a mere payment for services rendered, we ask "what am I getting out of being here" and, if the answer seems to be "nothing," we are tempted to move on. Sometimes we even find a good spot along our own pilgrimage trail and set up housekeeping, not very much interested in moving forward to new things.  No one is immune from these temptations, even clergy! A more pointed version of this indictment was recently expressed by The Rev. Frederick W. Schmidt, an Episcopal priest and avid blogger, who wrote:

What Muslims have rightly criticized in western culture is that it is spiritually flaccid and self-indulgent. The churches of Europe are empty. While they are not as empty in the United States as they are in Europe, Christians here often live remarkably dissolute and directionless lives that are not easily distinguished from the lives of those around them. We are without discipline. We live as if our faith in God doesn't matter. And in our desire to not be thought of as fundamentalists we have crafted churches that are a studied attempt to avoid deep commitment.

In today's post-Christendom, post-9/11, and increasingly post-Christian society, any attempt to plant (or re-plant) a church that is "a studied attempt to avoid deep commitment" is doomed to failure. People do not seek out hospices unless they or a loved one are dying. People do not seek out churches designed to be (or that have come to be) spiritual hospices unless they simply want to be comfortable as they decline. Offering Karl Marx's "opiate to the masses" is no longer an effective long-term growth strategy, if it ever was.

If you are a member of St. Edward's, please don't read this as some sort of blanket condemnation of your commitment to St. Edward's, much less your commitment to Jesus Christ. A great many of you have served long, faithfully, and well in a variety of capacities over the many years St. Edward's has been here--some of you from the very beginning of its existence! You have left a lasting legacy for future generations and continue to come and support the church as best you are able. As wonderful as that is, however, I am asking everyone to actively support, commit to, or at the very least not oppose the inevitable changes that every new effort like (re-)planting a church brings.  Stay with us, ask for help on the pilgrimage if you need it, and pray and expect God to do wonderful things in your life and in the life of those who have yet to walk through our doors.

So, to borrow from St. Paul, we are forgetting what lies behind--the difficulties of the last decade at St. Ed's, the pain and loss involved in the split in March 2009, some of the initial missteps of the last couple of years, and the lingering fear and uncertainty that follow such things--and we are straining toward what is ahead and pressing on toward the goal of responding faithfully to our own call from God to welcome all, worship fully, witness to God's grace, and walk the way of Christ. I invite you to pack up your spiritual backpack and join me on the adventure.

The times, they are a changin'--fast

In a recent response to a FaceBook posting by Diana Butler Bass regarding the current economic struggles, I wrote:

The challenge is that we are getting to the point (if we're not already there) in which the current model is unaffordable and unsustainable. The same "back to the good old days" mantra that reverberates throughout the church does so in politics and economics as well. The question is: How do we get a sustainable and compassionate economic system and how can we get enough of a momentum shift to elect folks to implement it?

I've previously spoken and written about the fact that the age of Modernity, which began to decay fifty years ago, has reached it's final years, if not months. In the face of the aftermath of the Great Recession, governments from school districts to states to our nation can no longer afford to keep alive the systems and patterns of life that all but the Greatest Generation (who are rapidly dying off...) accept as normal parts of life. We have come to the end of being able even to pretend to afford the lifestyle to which we have become accustomed--economically, socially, ecologically, even spiritually. The difficulty is that as we ask "What next?" very few people are willing to ask the question "How do we get a sustainable and compassionate system?" in any area of life. Most are looking backwards and warning of terrible calamities if some people (generally not them) don't "sacrifice" something to return to the "good old days" of yesteryear. Never mind that the "good old days" were rarely, if ever, good for everyone. In other words, those who look longingly back at the "good old days" are generally those with the most to lose, and thus those with the greatest fear of what is to come. Hence the place we at which we have arrived in our political discourse.


A colleague of mine has recently blogged about the absence of fear by those who have spoken truth to power in Egypt and in other parts of the world. Coincidentally (or perhaps God-incidentally), the Gospel for this coming Sunday addresses exactly this sort of basic fear. Jesus says:

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you-- you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, `What will we eat?' or `What will we drink?' or `What will we wear?' For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. (Matthew 6:24-34)

Keep in mind that Jesus is speaking to people in a much more materially precarious position than most of us are experiencing today. In Jesus' time there was no social safety net, no homeless shelter, no soup kitchen, not even any government that even pretended to be the least bit responsive. The people Jeus is speaking to live a tenuous existence in a region occupied by a hostile foreign army. Human life, as Thomas Hobbes would describe it more than 1500 years later was very often "...nasty, brutish, and short."

The point, then and now, is not to simply sit around hoping and praying for divine provision and deliverance. Jesus doesn't say "don't worry, be happy!" What Jesus does say is "Strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness." What that means for us is that we are called not to be paralyzed by worry, nor to react in fear, but to proactively partner with God in bringing God's kingdom to fruition in our own lives and in the lives of the people and systems that surround us. It is a call to action (strive) not reaction (worry). If we can get over our worries and our fears, what might God accomplish through us?

Speechless in San Jose

In the wake of the unspeakable tragedy of the earthquake in Haiti on Tuesday, I've been searching for words to speak of the unspeakable. Many others have spoken, some with less than helpful words. In the wake of Pat Robertson's assertion that this is somehow God's retribution for an ancient pact with the devil, my friend The Reverend Frank Logue and his parish, King of Peace in Kingsland, Georgia, have crafted this helpful response. If a picture is worth a thousand words, than the following says it all



Please keep the people of Haiti in your prayers.

Faith and Fear from the Beginning

Now after the wise men had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him." Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. -- Matthew 2:13

I'm back from a week-long vacation and slowly getting caught up on parish-related items, including this blog. As we begin a new calendar year and as we consider the Gospel passage from Matthew appointed for the Second Sunday after Christmas, I am reminded of the constant tension between faith and fear as well as the context of fear and danger which has always existed, even since the time of Jesus' birth. With the news of the attempted airliner bombing on Christmas Day as well as the five year anniversary of the tsunami that devastated Southeast Asia, no one needs to be reminded that we live in perilous and uncertain times. Had Joseph, Jesus, or any of the disciples succumbed to fear, things would be very different now.

So, if we as Christians are to choose faith over fear, what does that look like, exactly? Since we are now in the season of Epiphany, I would submit that it looks like letting the light of Christ shine in the darkness. It means stepping out in faith, taking risks, and asserting in word and dead that love and light conquer hate and darkness. As the prologue to the Gospel of John (appointed for the First Sunday of Christmas) states: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."

Our response is thus a continuous assertion that faith ultimately wins out over fear. As we enter the new year at St. Edward's, we continue to live out the Benedictine values of stability, obedience, and conversion of life to the best of our ability and with God's help. Happy New Year, and Blessed Epiphany!

Do you believe?

"And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord." - Elizabeth (Luke 1:45b)

One of the many Christmas decorations in our house is a painted piece of slate which says simply: "We believe." It is accompanied by either a painted sprig of holly or painted Santa (I can't recal which) but it obviously is intended to convey a belief in at least the spirit of Santa Claus. I thought of that piece of slate as I prepared and delivered the sermon for last Sunday. The Gospel passage is Mary's visit to Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, while she was still pregnant with John. The quote above is part of Elizabeth's exclamation as the child leaps in her womb in response to Mary's greeting. We might even say that John started preaching even before he was born!

As Christians, we talk a lot about belief and blessings. Most of the time, when we talk about blessings, we talk about them as things that already are. We are blessed with a wonderful church, family, job, etc... In the Magnificat that follows this passage, Mary recounts something that will be as if it has already happened! She believes so strongly in God's faithfulness that she is able to proclaim that faithfulness by talking about God's wonderful works before they even happen. She might have even heard the words "Consider it done" from God, and so she does consider it done!

As the days are short and the nights are long this time of year, it is very tempting to look out upon the world with a skeptical, even cynical eye. We are still embroiled in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The Senate is even now wrangling over health care reform. Our own state is dealing with a substantial budget deficit, and even our church is dealing with the aftermath of the church split that occurred earlier this year. There are many, many reasons to be pessimistic! Yet, if we have Mary's faith, we can say in the midst of all of this: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior..."

May that faith be born in us anew as we again await the Christ child. Merry Christmas!