Ministry in the Middle

The world is broken. This seems obvious these days.  We are experiencing a global pandemic, complete with ever-changing guidance on the best ways to protect ourselves and our communities.  As part of that response, there is massive unemployment and broad job insecurity.  In the past weeks, there have been national examples of suspected murders of African-American men highlighting the ongoing white supremacy in this country. This week there have been massive protests and demonstrations, ostensibly in response to a recent police shooting of an unarmed man, but likely a response to all of this.  Some have used these demonstrations as an excuse for looting, arson, and violence. The world is broken. I imagine there is almost universal agreement on these four words.  Almost no one is walking around smiling and thinking to themselves, "I am so glad these things are happening."  The disagreements arise when we start talking about how to fix the brokenness. In ...

Yesterday, I preached my annual Lincoln Sermon in the congregation I serve.  By my count, it is my 16th such sermon in honor of the United States' 16th President. It all happened quite by chance.  A few years ago, when I was a ministry intern during my seminary years, I happened to be preaching on Jesus' Sermon on the Plain from the Gospel of Luke.  The Biblical text reminded me of Abraham Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address, perhaps because it was President's Day weekend, and I included a long section in my sermon comparing Jesus' words and Lincoln's. The response was overwhelmingly positive -- even beyond the sometimes obligatory, "Nice sermon, pastor," comments that preachers often receive after worship services.  Several encouraged me to look for other opportunities to talk about Lincoln and faith again. Looking back, I'm not sure if I touched a hunger in their own hearts or if they were responding to my passion, or both.  Lincoln is a pop...

As I write this post today, I am working from home.  The weather here is brutally cold, and all of the nearby schools are closed.  So, too, is our church office -- along with many others, I assume from several who have posted on social media that they are closed today. This hasn't greatly affected my workday.  Expecting the poor weather, I had not planned on making visits today and I had no appointments scheduled.  Instead, I've been on the computer and the phone, planning for upcoming services, coordinating details with other church staff people, catching up on email, and working on Sunday's sermon. The truth is, I can do much of my work as a pastor from anywhere, especially if I have a phone, internet connection, and computer/tablet/smartphone.  And, throughout my ministry, I have often done more than half of my work outside of the church building.  Personally, given the long and unpredictable hours of ministry, including the reality that most congr...

Without question, one of the weirdest things that happens in my ministry is when someone in the church quotes me to others.  It is particularly weird when I find out that my words have been shared in a newsletter article or meeting beyond our congregation. As far as I know, it doesn't happen that much.  The few times that it has been mentioned to me, though, I have caught my breath, hoping that what they had remembered was something good and worthwhile, rather than the alternative.  Frankly, I desperately hope that I haven't led them in the wrong direction. I don't know what I expected when I was preparing for ministry.  I frequently quote things that I've learned from books, articles, and presentations, including from teachers I have had.   Given that much of my ministry is centered on public communication -- preaching, teaching, and writing -- I hope that what I am doing is valuable and nurturing for many people. Don't get me wrong.  I'm not a ...

The church, we are told, is shrinking.  Statistics suggest that overall American church membership is declining, sometimes drastically.  In most of our congregations, we see the decline.  There are fewer people in the pews and fewer people participating.  In most congregations, this becomes painfully obvious once a year when leaders begin to prepare the next year's budget and nominate the next year's officers.  Financial support of the church lags behind the expenses of the church, creating pressure to cut programs, cut outreach giving, or even cut staff time or positions.  There never seem to be many new options for officer position, forcing people to keep serving again and again... and again, and sometimes requiring people to serve in multiple capacities to keep programs going. In the season of planning, it is easy to lament that our church is too small.  If we just had a few more people and more reliable financial giving, things would be easier ...

In the past few days, the news has been dominated by an anonymous editorial written by "a senior official in the Trump administration."   It suggests that many people appointed by the president are working to protect the country from the president's "worst inclinations."  Like many people, I have found the entire affair fascinating, though I recognize there are some rather horrifying implications to the op-ed and some of its details. One paragraph caught my eye, not only for its political implications, but for a trend in behavior that I have often observed in church settings. Given the instability witnessed, there were early whispers within the cabinet of invoking the 25th Amendment, which would start a complex process for removing the president.  But no one wanted to precipitate a constitutional crisis.  So we will do what we can to steer the administration in the right direction until -- one way or another -- it's over. Presumably, people who have the...

"Come as you are.  The Lord welcomes us just as we are." Almost every time that I offer a meditation or invitation before Communion, I end with these words.  In part, I feel they reflect the radical grace of Jesus, which is celebrated in the Lord's Supper, even though we do not entirely grasp the full meaning of this radical grace and love.  In part, I hope that we as church can slowly grow to live out the promise of such a radical grace. I thought about this invitation again as I read a recent article about "Crying in Worship" in The Christian Century .  The author, Heidi Haverkamp, is an Episcopal priest who I met when we overlapped as students at the University of Chicago Divinity School.  In the essay, she admitted that she had often told others that it was okay to cry in church, but she had a different appreciation when she attended a worship service and cried. Now, those who have been around me when I lead worship services know that I don't need ...

11 years ago, this afternoon, I was ordained as a Christian minister. In some ways, I knew what I was getting into that day, I suppose.  In others, I didn't really have a clue.  I expected that I would be called to serve as pastor of a congregation, where I would be responsible for preaching, leading worship services, participating in other church activities, and more.  I figured that I would attend a lot of meetings. I didn't know where I would serve, but I wasn't concerned.  I was unmarried and free to move anywhere in the country.  I was confident that I would find a good place.  Six months later, I was making plans to relocate to West Virginia, my home for the next four years. I felt reasonably prepared for solo ministry and I was excited for the opportunity.  I had a solid training and had spent three years serving as both an elder and part-time youth minister.  My ministry had been nurtured and appreciated in that congregation....