Something to Take Home

Last Sunday I did something pretty unusual for me: I gave the congregation five "invitation cards" per person to use this week--either in direct invitation to others to join us at St. Edward's or to leave behind in a conspicuous place where one might be found and pondered over. I essentially gave them some homework to do. My hope and prayer is that at least a majority of the nearly 40 people in worship on Sunday are busy thinking, praying, and spreading the Good News with those cards. But as I thought about it some more, it struck me that all of us, as Christians, have "homework"--living our lives in alignment with God's will and purpose. As one parish's web site says:

"the first and most important avenue of ministry for any baptized Christian is their daily life and work. What they do and say in their homes, at the work, and in their leisure. In addition to that, God calls each baptized Christian to take his or her place in the life, worship, and governance of the Church."
-- from St. John's Church, Grand Haven, MI (emphais mine)

Those of us who work for the church for a living often forget that just as ordained ministers do not work only on Sunday mornings, so too those in the pews do most ministry outside the church walls. Certainly, as is pointed out, God calls us each to take our place in the life, worship, and governance of the church. However, as clergy we can often drift into a sense that if we can't find someone to teach Sunday School this week or to count the offering or to serve on the Vestry (church board) then people aren't really doing ministry. We're not sure what they're doing, but it isn't ministry!

Similarly, those in the pews can see those of us with collars as "professional ministers." Sometimes when I am asked to pray at a Kiwanis Club meeting or other semi-public event, I jokingly say "I'm a professional: Don't try this at home!" Of course, the reason it is a joke is that prayer is something that everyone should try at home--and at work, and anywhere else it occurs to them!  Similarly, most ministry both inside and outside of church is not done by clergy but by the laity.

The reality is that, for a Christian, all of life is ministry if lived intentionally so. Whether you are preparing a sermon for Sunday or preparing a meal for a friend or your family, service to others or even service to the Christ who lives in you can be ministry. As Brother Lawrence writes:

“We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed.”
― Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God  

So the lesson for all of us this week is to be as mindful of God in all of the work we do as I suggested members be mindful of distributing invitation cards. Our ministry is also our invitation--our invitation to others to love God and love others as God has loved us. Hope to see you on Sunday!

The Church: Hospital, School, Fitness Club, or Inn?

In a recent dedication of a new building at St. Martin's Episcopal Church in Houston, Texas (the largest Episcopal church in the United States), former Archbishop of Canterbury George Carey said:

“Those [churches] that are growing are living the gospel in a relevant way with energetic leaders who adapt, good lay leadership and dynamic preaching...” 

Reading that this morning caused some thoughts to coalesce that have been drifting around for a while. As a response to the Newtown, Connecticut shootings, commentator (and ordained minister) Mike Huckabee famously talked about the tragedy as not surprising considering that "we've systematically removed God from our schools." He goes on to lament the fact that Americans often pretty much ignore God until a crisis hits, then go running to church in search of comfort only to vanish weeks or months later after the ripples from the latest tragedy have died down. The fallacy in his argument, beyond its pastoral shortcomings, lies in equating the church with God. But that theological discourse will have to wait for another post.

This is a frequent lament by pastors and priests: we have larger numbers of people in our pews on Christmas, Easter, and after traumatic national events but those people don't seem to be interested in sticking around and becoming a part of the faith community. Those of us who are part of this faith community are often puzzled about this. However, reflecting on what church means for people, such a phenominon, while perplexing to those who have made the church their spiritual home, makes sense based upon a person's view of what church is. Four views come to my mind.

St. Luke's Hospital, San Francisco

Abigail Van Buren (Dear Abby) has been famously quoted as saying that "a church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints." Over and over again, I've heard this sentiment expressed--especially in evangelical circles. Pastors see the ravages of sin and death all around us and say "come to the church to be cured!" This model of the church certainly has its good points. Ever since Jesus' time, Christians have been heavily involved with healing. The founding of many hospitals has been at the behest of churches. Some people naturally gravitate towards churches when they are in need of healing. That's why we have a healing service as part of our worship every third Sunday (next one is January 20). The difficulty with this view of the church is twofold. First, there are plenty of people in the world who don't see themselves as having a "sin sick soul", to quote a famous hymn. If you don't feel like you are sick, why visit a doctor or a hospital? No one visits a hospital unless one is sick, visiting someone who is sick, or occasionally getting some preventative care to keep from becoming sick. Second, even if one does visit a hospital, no one stays there longer than absolutely necessary. So when people show up at our churches with acute needs and find some comfort and healing there, we shouldn't be surprised that they don't stay. After all, now that they're feeling better, why keep visiting the hospital/church?

Photo from the Forma web site--Godly play.

There is also the popular notion of the church as school. Again, churches have been some of the primary founders and supporters of schools--we've seen it as part of our vocation to care for children and to help them be formed and educated. In the church, we used to think of this only in terms of imparting information: telling Bible stories, recounting church history, teaching about the sacraments, etc... We've evolved into realizing that being a follower of Christ requires not just education, but formation. Recently, the National Association for Episcopal Christian Education Directors (NAECED) changed its name to Forma, reflecting not only an easier name to remember but also a shift from the notion of education (imparting information) to formation (shaping the whole person). Even so, the difficulty with this idea of the church as a school is also twofold. First, there are people who are not looking to be educated. Just as they don't feel sick enough to go to a church-as-hospital, they don't feel uneducated enough to to a church-as-school. In fact, they may even have been hurt by the church or a church-related school in some way and a loathe to repeat the experience. Second, one traditionally graduates from school, but ideally no one "graduates" from church! We've seen some of this notion play out with the rite of Confirmation (adult affirmation of faith). Many times, it has been seen as a graduation from church for teenagers--their parents made them go to church when they were children, but now that they've been confirmed they don't need to go anymore. When we talk about this area of our life together as lifelong Christian formation rather than matriculation through a set of requirements it makes it clear that we're not just imparting information.

With the evolution of being equipped to follow Christ moving from education to formation, many people man now look upon church as a fitness club--getting in shape for Jesus. The difficulty with this idea is obvious--how many people are truly excited about getting regular exercise? Even more telling, how many are excited about getting regular spiritual exercise? Frankly, this is what trips most people up--we all can become spiritually lazy (and pastors are not exempt). We can often exist on a sort of spiritual inertia until some crisis intrudes for which we are spiritually ill-equipped, then it is a trip to the church-as-hospital. Also, like physical exercise, we don't really think of ourselves as having the time to spiritually exercise--we're too busy doing other things. So when we talk about getting "fit for life" or other fitness metaphor, people have to overcome inertia, busyness, and lack of motivation to show up on Sunday mornings--and we don't often make explicit what we're doing. What would you do if you simply showed up to your local fitness club and there were people working out on strange machines, and talking with each other (some in great shape, some "in progress") and no one gave you any sort of orientation? Or what if you showed up to a fitness club and the room was empty of equipment? You would likely head back out the door. That is what I suspect church often looks like to the unchurched--a lot of strange looking hardware (what is a chalice? a paten? candles? prayer books? hymnals? organ music?) and odd routines without any sort of guidance about how to use them or what they are for. We need to be more explicit about how we are forming and spiritually exercising people.

Finally, appropriate for the season, some people see the church as an inn, or hotel. On the bad side of this, the church can degenerate into being seen as a social club--an exclusive place where the "beautiful people" congregate to reinforce how nice things are. That was the genesis of the Dear Abby quote about the church not being a "museum for saints." We don't want to be seen as, or actually be, a place where one must be perfect to attend. I've seen people apologize for crying in church! Why apologize? Because it is seen as not "seemly." Well, church should be the one place in which we can express our deepest emotions, so cry away! People also can see the church as a place for rich people--much like going to a hotel with a fancy lobby. The question "Do I fit in here?" is often at the top of people's minds when the visit a church. I actually think that an inn is a wonderful metaphor for the church. We need to constantly look at how hospitable we are: Are we easily seen from the road? Is our signage good and clear? Can people find their way to our front door easily? Are they welcomed warmly when they do? Does the place feel like an exclusive club or a warmly welcoming bed and breakfast? We might even be seen as having a (spiritual) exercise room, a buffet (coffee hour?), a spa for healing (holy oil at the healing service?), even a classroom or two.

I'm going to continue to reflect on the inn metaphor for church in the coming weeks. I think it is a rich one. We often talk about the church as "my church" as if we somehow own it. This does make us feel more at home (after all, how much more at home can you feel then when you are at home?) but may make others feel like they are temporary and unexpected guests rather than potential members of God's family. I much prefer the image of the church building that I learned as a child: God's house. We are all in God's house. We are all staff (paid or unpaid) and we are welcoming guests who intentionally seek us out as a place to rest that is apart from the hustle and bustle of the world. We also need to be mindful that God is both our host and our permanent guest--we need to make sure we have room in each of our "inns" for God as the Christ child. We also need to be aware of whether we're "living the Gospel in a relevant way" as a church--making sure that we are adapting well to changing needs and providing things for which people seek out the church. I'm not suggesting that we become some sort of plastic "dream church" for everyone, but that we make sure that we are engaged in actively living the gospel in the world rather than merely supporting one another.

As we end Advent and approach the Christmas season, may we have room in our hearts for Christ, our homes for one another, and our church for those who seek a place of rest and refreshment--and perhaps an appointment with the One who is Emmanuel, God with us.

Confident Worship

Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. - Hebrews 4:16, NASB

The second part of our fourfold mission is to "worship fully." Any number of people have asked what that means. On our web site, we say that it means that "built upon the liturgical traditions of our church, we will use whatever forms of worship best connect us to God in Christ." Among many things, it means that we will constantly experiment with our worship to strike a balance between the comfort of those already here and the attraction and accessibility of our worship to newcomers. However, before experimentation, there is a foundational principal of "full" worship that I hope to articulate with this post.

As I was engaging in worship with everyone here at St. Edward's a couple of Sundays ago, something that has been percolating in my mind finally crystallized. I've been thinking about worship, specifically worship at St. Edward's, and I've been feeling like there needs to be a change in how we worship. Not merely a change in prayers, music, or other outward signs, but a change of attitude. When I first thought of that, I was thinking that worship really should be easy and effortless. However, neither of those two adjectives really worked for me. Worship is not a natural thing for human beings--we're much more prone to focus on ourselves than we are to focus on God. So, it really couldn't, and shouldn't, be easy. Effortless also doesn't work, since worship should require effort, focus, and intentionality. It shouldn't be like sitting in a concert hall or relaxing on the beach. After wrestling with those two adjectives and rejecting them, I finally came up with one that I like:

Confident.

As children of God, heirs of God's purpose and power, we need to do everything in our power to worship confidently, not hesitantly or timidly. Note that I'm not talking about a rowdy, sporting event type of worship. I'm talking about worship that ushers us into the presence of God in full confidence that we belong there, that God wants us there, and that the prayers and praises that we offer are done so in a way that doesn't look like we've never done this before. I'm talking about worship that is not rushed, but joyfully deliberate. I'm also talking about worship that doesn't so much remind us of the past as it propels us into the future.

What do we need to do this? Purpose, preparation, and practice.

Purpose: We are not just making this up from scratch. We take our worship from the Book of Common Prayer 1979. I cannot tell you how thankful I am that, unlike some nondenominational churches, we don't need to create the worship service from the ground up. Our rich Anglican liturgical heritage supports and enhances our worship experience. It also helps us live out the Benedictine value of stability--our service does not radically change from week to week. In selecting hymns and worship songs, I try to choose songs we have sung before or that are easy to learn. I also choose music that has some relationship to the lessons for that particular Sunday. While worship can occasionally be spontaneous, good worship is rarely off-the-cuff. On the few occasions that I have modified worship services at the last minute, I have nearly always regretted it.

Preparation: One of my seminary professors once recounted a sort of a curse he had heard from one of his professors: "If you just roll out of bed and stumble out to celebrate the Eucharist, I hope you die on the way." Harsh, perhaps, but his point was that leading (and participating in) worship requires both physical and spiritual preparation. Rushing in at the last minute, scrambling for one's notes, prayer book, or other items, and then trying to center oneself and enter into worship purposefully is a very difficult task. For myself, I aim to arrive at least 30 minutes prior to the service so that I can mentally, physically, and spiritually prepare myself. If one is leading worship, one should be here at least 15 to 20 minutes early to make sure everything is set. If one is participating in worship, being here 5 to 10 minutes early is a good thing, just to allow the busyness of the morning to recede. This part of worship has to do with the Benedictine value of obedience--a sense of discipline that says "this is important enough to prepare for." Yes, sometimes the unexpected happens, but minimizing the unexpected in the way we handle the logistics of worship allows the unexpected (or expected!) sense of the Spirit of God more access to our hearts and minds.

Practice: Like anything else, worship requires practice. If we limit ourselves to the same two-dozen hymns we've always done, we won't need to learn anything new but we also won't be doing much that is fresh. This aspect of worship reflects the Benedictine value of conversion of life. We are always to be learning and growing. Worship that is rote and flat is not worship, it is recital. That does not mean that one should show up at worship not having practiced, especially if one is helping to lead. If you are reading scripture, you should have already read it, out loud, several times at home. If you are serving at the altar, one hopes that you have been trained to do so. As we move through worship, we should be surprised at what God is doing in our hearts and minds, not wondering why that person is doing that thing.

My hope and prayer for us is that we can worship more and more fully by remembering that we are worshipping on purpose, preparing ourselves to worship each week, and knowing that practicing both new and tried-and-true things opens our hearts up to God's leading. See you on Sunday!

New Beginnings, and Streaching our (Spritual) Muscles

In the last 24 hours I have had several experiences which have caused me to reflect a bit. The first was the outstanding sermon given by our departing Priest Associate for Evangelism, Julie Nelson, at the service yesterday morning. No, it wasn't a triumph of exegesis or a particularly new or surprising interpretation of scripture--it might be best described as a testimonial about what being at St. Edward's has meant to her and the power of God for new beginnings. Reflecting on the beginning of the creation story in Genesis and the story of Jesus' baptism at the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, Julie talked about her experience of being at St. Edward's as her own "new beginning" and invited us all to reflect on the power of God to speak into being new beginnings all the time.

This morning, I joined Doris Martinez's "Feel Good Exercise Class" in Hallstead Hall and we stretched muscles that many of us had not worked on since before the holidays, or even longer than that! I know I'm going to feel it tomorrow, and not in a good way, but I also know that parish ministry is not a highly active occupation, and the opportunity to support an outreach of the church and get some much-needed exercise is a "two for one" that is hard to pass up.

Finally, a little while ago, I ran across an article that said, in part:

Finding ways for people to share their stories wasn’t about investing a lot of time researching the best curriculum or purchasing supplies. I relied on something that already flowed freely and found its way into nearly every gathering of the church. Coffee. The large percolator coffee pot was started before worship every Sunday. During silent pauses of a prayer, we could hear the pot entering its final stages of brewing. After the benediction and handshakes, the worshipers moved from the sanctuary to the parlor, where they filled their cups and shared with one another the stories of their week.

I've heard many jokes about our weekly Coffee Hour being "the third sacrament", but it really does serve as a time for people to grab a cup of coffee and a treat and have some conversations about what is happening in their lives, a story of the past, of a prayer for the future. People often share quite naturally, much like walking is quite natural.

What is not quite as natural as sharing snippets of stories is sharing more deeply with one another. Sharing our spiritual stories has a power that taps into that "new beginnings" power of God. As we speak, God speaks new things into being. This is very much the "witness to God's grace" part of our stated mission. Like our muscles, our ability to identify and witness God's grace in our lives atrophies if we fail to exercise it. So, one of the things we'll be doing in the next few months is looking for opportunities to share our stories of God's grace and power in our own lives. I'd love to hear your stories, and I'll do my best to weave my own (or particularly good ones from others, anonymously) into my sermons as well. Stretch!

What does membership mean?

In his famous book, Bowling Alone, author Robert Putnam notes the substantial decline of membership in a whole host of clubs, nonprofit organizations, and civic groups in the last 20 years. As we anticipate the beginning of a new year and our upcoming Annual Meeting on Sunday, January 29, it is worth asking: What does membership at St. Edward's mean? What is expected of us as members, if anything? Even the concept of a volunteer organization such as the church might cause some people to bristle at the notion of any expectations whatsoever. Yet as has been demonstrated repeatedly, a growing church does have expectations of those who choose to be its members. Not surprisingly, I believe that membership expectations at St. Edward's mirror our four-fold mission: Welcome all. Worship fully. Witness to God's grace. Walk the way of Christ. Let me explain.

Welcome all.

Part of who we are as members of St. Edward's includes welcoming each and every person, regardless of their faith journey (or lack thereof), political affiliation, or theological opinion. As such, the first expectation of our members is that they will actively seek out newcomers, welcome them to St. Edward's, and facilitate their participation in our worship service or other event. We are always to be on the lookout for another one of God's guests that passes through our doors.

Worship fully.

While it is probably obvious, one of the basic expectations of a member of St. Edward's is that he or she will attend and actively participate in our worship service each week, unless prevented from doing so by illness or other overriding obligation (work-related travel, etc...). Churches are often criticized with the indictment: "They just want my money!" Well, while we're perfectly happy to receive your financial support (see below), what we most want is your participation, not your pledge.

Witness to God's grace.

If you've ever been to an airport, you've seen the signs that say: "If you see something, say something!" One of the expectations that we have for our members is that they will be sensitive to God's work in the world--directly, through them, and through others--and that they will find ways to say something about what they've seen or experienced in this area. Part of this response is to pledge financial support to St. Edward's as a tangible reminder and indicator that God is working in and through the church to accomplish God's mission on earth. In short, we have to put our money where our mouth is! If we believe that the church is God's instrument for the reconciliation of the world, it follows that it both needs and deserves our support.

Walk the way of Christ.

The early followers of Jesus Christ were simply called "The Way." This was a reflection of Jesus' saying "I am the way, the truth, and the life." (John 14:6, NASB) It was also an indicator that to follow Jesus means to be on a pilgrimage, a spiritual path. As members of St. Edward's, and therefore followers of Jesus, it is expected that our service to God does not end at the church door, but that we "seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves" (as our Baptismal Covenant says). In practice, what that means is that every member of St. Edward's is expected to identify and participate in both activities that enhance their spiritual lives and service opportunities that help others. As we do this, we are well aware that we will always fall short of what God has in mind for us, yet as St. Paul writes, we "press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:14, NASB)

Hopefully the above gives you some encouragement, perhaps some challenge, and perhaps a new resolve to make your membership in St. Edward's even more meaningful in 2012. See you Sunday!

To what is God trying to give birth?

I've been thinking over the Gospel lesson for this past Sunday. Several weeks ago, I participated in a "new expressions of church" conference call in which the question was asked: "How are you helping to give birth to something God is doing?" or something like that.

As I was mulling over that, I was directed to the following YouTube video, considering what it would be like if Joseph was on Facebook at the time of Jesus' birth:



As somewhat funny as this is, it also points to the fact that what God was bringing into the world was not something that was even thought of, and was fraught with danger. With two-thousand years of hindsight, we believe Mary was given the greatest gift of all--the opportunity to be theotokos, the "god-bearer." Mary's recorded reaction reinforces that belief, to a point. It also reminds us that even God's gifts come with some associated responsiblities.

2012 will be a year in which we discern what God is bringing into being, or giving birth to, and what we can do to help that process along, to "mid-wife" that process, as it were. While as a man I've never been pregnant, as a father I know the profound changes having children can make in one's life. The birth process is messy, painful, sometimes complex, involves considerable work (that's why they call it "labor"), and generally requires a group of people to help things along. And that's just birth! Actually raising a child requires a whole new set of skills, another group of people (remember "It Takes A Village"), and a long-term viewpoint.

As we celebrate the anniversary of the birth of Jesus, may we be inspired to look for signs of new life and new birth in our own lives and at St. Edward's as well and prepare ourselves to mid-wife and guide that new life that God has for us.

"Don't Blame! Don't Complain!" but do Pray and Offer All

One of my colleagues recently brought the following "campaign" to my attention:



While I'm not really excited about the theology that says that God actively controls all aspects of our lives and therefore allows, or worse, causes calamities to occur, that sense of being thankful for our blessings and learning and growing from our difficulties is an excellent reminder!

I'm in the process of mulling over the lessons appointed for next Sunday, July 31 (Fr. Lawrence Robles of Santa Maria Urban Ministry will be preaching this coming Sunday).  The Gospel lesson is the generally well-known story of the Feeding of the Multitudes (4,000, 5,000, whatever...).  Of the many lessons to be gleaned from this story, perhaps the most powerful one is that when we offer all that we have to God, for God's use, God will give us the resources to accomplish God's purposes. This is no "prosperity Gospel" that says that if you "invest in God" you will reap monetary rewards. Rather it encourages us not to be discouraged at what may seem meager resources in the face of so much need. Rather, God takes, blesses, breaks, and gives all that we offer, and more, back to us for accomplishing God's will in the world.

This is a hard lesson to learn in an era of tight budgets and a climate of fear and scarcity. It is hard to focus on God's abundance in the face of a deficit budget. Yet the command Jesus addresses to his disciples continues to be addressed to us: "Bring them here to me." Bring what you have, ask that it be blessed, and use it to feed the world.

Lent and "Enough"

As we count the days until Lent (finally!) begins, some of the "self-examination and repentance" might well focus on what we have and how much we need--how much is enough. A recent article entitled "When Rich People Do Stupid Things" makes the point that wealth can be just as addictive as anything else--some people never have enough. On the other hand, one only needs to go as far as St. Paul, who writes:

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." (Philippians 4:12).

Most folks are not the über-rich described in the article. Yet how much of our time, energy, even prayers are consumed with consumables? How much of our lives are focused on our next paycheck, our next payout, or our next payback? Time for some self-examination and repentance, perhaps?

The author of the article ends it with the assertion that researchers are in agreement on the following:

"Money isn't the key to happiness. What really gives people meaning and happiness is a combination of four things: Control over what they're doing, progress in what they're pursuing, being connected with others, and being part of something they enjoy that's bigger than themselves."

I think pursuit of wealth is a symptom, not the disease. The problem is that we have (again, literally) been sold a lie--that wealth equals power and control. Who doesn't feel out of control these days? When people feel out of control, they look around for something the can control and that (they believe) can help them control their lives, and wealth is at the top of the list.

It's a lie.

Of course, wealthy people do have more choices than poor people do. The wealthy have more "discretionary income" and so their choices are expended beyond simply needing to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads. But wealthy people ultimately have precisely as much control as anyone else--and that is not much. We don't know whether an earthquake will take place tomorrow and wipe out our homes, businesses, even churches (witness the quake in Christchurch, New Zealand). Even individually, we don't know what is going to happen in our lives.

What faith can do, and what church can strengthen, are the last two items in the list: being connected with others, and being part of something they enjoy that's bigger than ourselves. As we enter Lent, perhaps the best self-examination and repentance we could engage in is identifying how much time, effort, money, and even prayer goes in to maintaining that illusion of control and diverting that into strengthening one's own faith in God and support for the church. Who knows? God may do something new...

God's Purposes and our Preconceptions

Mary then took a pound of very costly perfume of pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of His disciples, who was intending to betray Him, said, "Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and given to poor people?" Now he said this, not because he was concerned about the poor, but because he was a thief, and as he had the money box, he used to pilfer what was put into it. Therefore Jesus said, "Let her alone, so that she may keep it for the day of My burial. For you always have the poor with you, but you do not always have Me." -- John 12:3-8

After being bombarded with the message that God cares very much for the poor, this passage from the Gospel from yesterday's readings brings most of us up short a bit. We're used to Jesus speaking against extravagance, against accumulating wealth, and against enjoying life at another person's expense. And yet he speaks sternly to Judus Iscariot when he makes the quite reasonable (but disingenuous) objection that Mary is being way too extravagant in this anointing of Jesus' feet.

Beyond the prefiguring of burial that is in this story, it also demonstrates to me that we make a big mistake if we ever think we have figured out Jesus. Every time we think we know what God is going to say to us and go off before getting the full message, God brings us back and reminds us that we are not as smart as we think we are! In God's plan, money is a means to an end, not the end in and of itself. We can get so wrapped up in doing good things for others that such efforts can crowd out doing great things with others. The mission of the church, after all, is not to feed the poor, clothe the naked, heal the sick, or other good things. Such activities naturally arise out of the real mission of the church:

The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.

An excellent example of making sure that we are doing what we are doing as a result of our discipleship rather than as a replacement for it is put forth by Sara Miles in this short video:



Social service, then, becomes simply another aspect of worship and discipleship--we are simply translating that reconciliation process from the sanctuary to the soup kitchen (in the case of Sara's church, St. Gregory of Nyssa, they are the same space). As we continue to discern God's calling for us at St. Edward's, it might be well for us to consider how the three areas of worship, fellowship, and outreach might be knit together as a whole.

Sunday Preview: Losing and Finding

Two of my primary resources for sermon preparation are my friend Sarah Dylan Breuer's blog and Exegetical Notes by (Lutheran) Pastor Brian Stoffregen. Both offer me some very interesting ways of looking at any given text, and the text for this coming Sunday is no exception. In Brian's commentary, he says the following about the Parable of the Prodigal Son:

My friend used the example of misplacing his truck keys. He knew where the spare key was -- with his wife -- 45 miles away. The absence of his keys made him feel incomplete -- at a loss -- life was not right for him because those keys were not where they should be.

An implication of this is that congregations, rather than thinking of the unchurched as "the lost" whom need to be found, (which also means that we consider ourselves as "the found,") or "the lost" who need to find their way back home; we might consider ourselves to be incomplete without those for whom Christ has also died.

We hear a lot about "the lost" when discussing mission and evangelism. "They" tend to be "out there," because certainly anyone in a pew on a Sunday morning couldn't possibly be "lost"! Yet how often do we actually consider the church incomplete without "them"? Perhaps more profoundly, how often do we acknowledge that, more often then we might like to admit, we can become lost ourselves--cut off, sometimes inadvertently, from our relationship with God. Some things to think about, to be sure...

Equipping the Saints for the Work of Ministry

And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ -- Ephesians 4:11-12, NKJV

One of the most challenging things to do in the church is to equip people for ministry. It is challenging in a number of ways. First, it is challenging because people have so little time available to them that sometimes they barely have time for the ministry to which they believe God has called them, much less time to be trained or re-trained. However, perhaps the bigger challenge to equipping people for ministry is not in the equippees, but in the equippers--we who are leaders in the church. Frankly, it is a whole lot more efficient in the short term to do things yourself than it is to teach others to do them. It also means that the tasks will be done to one's own satisfaction and in the way that one wants them to be done. That being said, it is profoundly unbiblical to do things ourselves. Even if we are doing ministry "solo" we are really doing it in partnership with God, and God wants to be in partnership with us. God is all-powerful and could simply think something and it would be done. Yet God models for us a partnership in which human beings are integral to God's work in the world.

I write the above because we are at the beginning of a five week Lenten Series that I've entitled "Being an Episcopal Christian." In that series we'll explore what it means to be a Christian, an Anglican, an Episcopalian, and a member of this parish and diocese. At the same time, the Diocese of El Camino Real has begun their Diocesan Center for Spiritual Leadership with a session this past Saturday at St. Paul's, Salinas. Here are some highlights:



The challenge for me, and for many people I suspect, is to take time to both be equipped for the ministries to which God has called us and to take time to equip others for the ministries to which God has called them. God give us the strength, especially this Lenten season, to have the discipline to do so.

Godly Discernment, not Program Development

Last Sunday was the Annual Meeting of St. Edward's and we had what I thought was a good meeting. I extended myself slightly, technologically speaking, and put together a PowerPoint presentation to summarize the Annual Report which was well received and we had some good discussions. This week I'm doing preparations for the annual Vestry Retreat which begins with a dinner on Friday evening at the Gooding house and continues with a 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. visioning and planning session at the Balcunas cabin in the Santa Cruz mountains. Not a bad way to spend an evening and a day!

In my sermon on Sunday I talked a bit about discernment--specifically, discerning God's will for us as individuals and as a community. That's really what we were doing as a congregation at the Annual Meeting and what we will be doing as a Vestry at our retreat. We aren't burdened with the task of coming up with some whiz-bang, foolproof way of doubling the size of our congregation in a year's time or otherwise coming up with some 'resurrection plan.' We are merely to enter into God's presence, to quiet our hearts and minds, and--in the silence of our hearts and in the discussions between us--to discern God's will for St. Edward's and to begin to put people, plans, and policies in place to carry out what God wills in partnership with God. No human agency could have planned the resurrection, the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, nor any of the myriad of large and little miracles that are sprinkled throughout the Gospel accounts of Jesus' earthly ministry. Similarly, I look forward not to planning for God, but planning in partnership with what we know God is doing and will continue to do through us.

Before we even get to the people, plans, and programs, we will also ask God and one another: What is the new St. Edward's? Who are we as a congregation? What are our values? What are our strengths and weaknesses? What is unique about us? Such questions of identity and character necessarily precede planning. This, too, will be an ongoing process.

More to come!