Want an Assignment?

Another part of what I'm about in these weeks (see further down to understand that "another")is looking at other congregations that are similar to MPC that seem to be "getting it".

Interesting fact #1 is that congregations of the size of MPC (both in terms of membership and attendance) are pretty rare in the PCUSA, and when you add the factor of the church's commitment to mission as witnessed by its support of denominational ministry, the number shrinks considerably. I've come up with 14-16 churches that meet MPC on that matrix of membership and mission giving.

So here's an assignment for any who might like! Most of those churches have websites. If you choose to accept it, look them up, rummage around, and then in one way or another, let us know what you think! This is similar to the church visits that the Sabbatical team is about, but it lets you come along from the comfort of your computer screen--so click away, and let us know your impressions:

First Presbyterian Church, Stamford, CT

www.fishchurch.org

First Presbyterian Church, Cedar Rapids, IA

www.fpccr.org

Blacksburg Presbyterian Church, Blacksburg, VA

www.blacksburgpres.org

Wallingford Presbyterian Church, Wallingford, PA

www.wallingfordpres.org

St. Philip Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX

www.saintphilip.net

Troy Presbyterian Church, Troy, OH

www.fpctroy.org

First Presbyterian Church, Tupelo, MS

www.fpctup.org

Immanuel Presbyterian Church, Milwaukee, WI

www.immanuelwi.org

First Presbyterian Church, Decatur, IL

www.firstpresdecatur.org

First Presbyterian Church, Greer, SC

www.greerfpc.org

Danville Presbyterian Church, Danville, KY

www.presbydan.org

First Presbyterian Church, Hartsville, SC

www.firstpreshart.org

Government Street Presbyterian Church, Mobile, AL

www.gspcmobile.org

Happy hunting!

Rounding the Post

Sorry it's been so long since posting--this sabbatical has now entered a very different phase, as the meeting of wonderful and exotic places and welcoming and delightful people has given way to a parade of ideas, as I've "read around" in things I think might move me along the larger project of how we're called to be the Church of Jesus Christ.

Jeremy Begbie continues to exercise the greatest influence on my mind right now, in his book, "Theology, Music and Time." This is a VERY dense book, which makes posting on it something of a challenge--talking about it assumes a level of competence with the ideas that I'm not sure I can claim! Suffice it to say you're glad THIS was not one of the books I suggested to the congregation--unless you're interested in an immersion in music theory and practice in the 20th century and its theological implications.

But, I'll try! The idea that rings through the book for me is that one of the things in this 21st century world that surrounds us that is most out of whack is the way in which we understand and dwell in time. Simply put, we live in a world in which time is understood to be a scarce commodity--worth fighting for and trying to hoard. Begbie argues that music gives us a way into understanding that from a theological perspective, time is neither a commodity nor scarce. It is, rather, a gift which enfolds us, and encircles us, and gives us the space within which we can live our lives in the presence of God.

Boy, THAT needs more working out! But the way it's been processed in my little brain is that maybe one of the most important things the church has to offer the world around is a DIFFERENT way of being in time: one that is GRACIOUS; one that understands that the time that the clock can measure is, in the end, the most trivial kind of time there is--a way of being in time that does not view others as a threat, but as a gift (listen, here, for overtones of the questions of hospitality and community that started this dance!)

I think of the powerful image that Frederick Bueckner invokes in his autobiographical remembrance of the day his father took his own life, and how, in an instant, time was transformed for him--from an endless and open presence to "hanging on as the horse charges toward the end."

What would a church look like that truly understood its ministry in the world as a ministry of "taking time for each other"? Discipleship, community, commitment, and yes, surrender, become important criteria.....I dunno--just thinking!

Freedom's Just Another Word

A week has passed since last post, and it's been a week of regaining bearings, catching up, and relaxing a bit, as well. The major journeys of this time apart are now past, and the next 6-7 weeks are intended to be a time to think, read, and put the many pieces of this jigsaw into some sort of order.

We all, of course, celebrated the 4th of July--Independence Day--and I had at least in the corner of my mind the delightful Bobby who chided us outside the parliament building "if you all hadn't been so uppity there in Boston, YOU could be part of this, too!"

I found myself thinking about St. Augustine, and his understanding of the truest form of human freedom being nothing more or less than conforming our human will to the will of God. That, of course, is about the opposite of what I suspect the common definition of freedom was among those who celebrated the 4th (and the 2nd, and the 3rd, and the 5th!) thinking that freedom 1. Is my ability to do what I want, and 2. If God has any place in this, it should be in shifting the world around so that what I want is a little easier for me.

Am I being to cynical, or has freedom become, in Janice Joplin's words, "nothing left to lose"? A hammer with which we can shape the world to the form of our choosing? It's Florence, and the Medicis who come to mind now, and the amazing collections of the Vatican Museum. So much of what is now for us a true treasure of art was assembled in order to assert a particular order on the world around them. Freedom--if it was an important word at the time--was the ability to control the forces in the world in your favor.

But what might it mean if our deepest and fullest freedom comes when we give ourselves over to God and find ourselves in a community of shared value in which each person's first responsibility is to look after the other?

The thought that crossed my mind as I watched skyrockets burst in the night sky is that this community of shared value would really be a perpetual motion machine--no fuse to light, no time at which the last shell would burst and we'd all go home. If I'm concerned for my neighbor, and my neighbor's concerned for me, there's ALWAYS a light on! And if, as Jesus insisted, my neighbor is only and always the one whose need is present to me, then this community of shared value (done correctly) is always growing, moving, shifting its focus beyond itself, as well. Its boundaries cannot be fixed by doctrines, or theological positions, but only by the OTHER, and specifically, that Other's deep need.

Alexis de Tocquville said that the thing that made this nation unique (this was back in the 1800's) was its combination of fierce individualism and deeply held civic responsibility. Many commentators on de Tocquville in the past ten years have noted that the fierce individualism is doing just fine, but we seem to be losing that sense of civic responsibility. I still see enough signs of hope and promise to be skeptical of their conclusions, but I see what makes them wonder. Freedom, unbounded, as Augustine understood, is just another form of slavery, and far more destructive, because you end up a slave to your own shifting appetites and desires.

So, happy 4th! Let freedom RING!

And a little something from me.....

The last four days were spent in Santa Fe and the annual conference of the Pastor Theologian program. These are always incredible events, with major powerhouse speakers and lots of time for conversation and reflection. I met for the third time a man by the name of Jeremy Begbie, who has done some wonderful thinking on the ways in which music allows us and assists us in thinking and living our faith. One of his critical insights is that because of the way the modern world works around us, we tend to think in a more or less linear way--one thought follows another, and we get confused when there's more than one thought that fills a given space (the best example, the Christian doctrine of the Trinity--how can God be three in one, how can Jesus be human AND divine at the same time.)

Music, Jeremy suggests, gives you a way to think about three things, four things, and number of things at the same time, each existing together without eradicating the other, or merging into some different thing. So, while yellow and red on canvas either obscure each other r create orange, a c/e/g/c played together on a piano make a c major chord with each note present to all the rest.

Okay, it's getting a little heady, but it enforces something I've been thinking about since Iona: how much music shapes the way in which we learn/practice/articulate our faith. It also got me to thinking about the "paradigm" of church, and whether the goal is not to choose one or another, but to search for the "harmonics" of the many churches any one congregation might be at any given moment. Just as God is One in the Many, the Body of Christ is most faithful when its finding not "the one true way to be in this world" but ALL the diverse and wonderful ways in which, together, we witness to the harmony God intends for this creation.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

Below is a summary of the Sabbatical Team's visit to the Marshfield Church, forwarded to me by Jim Bowman (THANKS JIM!) a quick shot on the things going on on the home front. I'd be curious if anyone who's flitting through has and reflections on the now 2 completed sessions with Prof. Irizarry from Mccormick?

Visit to First Presbyterian Church
Marshfield, WI
The Sabbatical steering team visited First Presbyterian Church in Marshfield, WI on Sunday, June 6, 2005. The purpose is to understand the role that First Presbyterian seeks to play in the 21st century.
We attended their worship service and then met with Pastor Scott Marrese-Wheeler and five members of the congregation. We asked these questions and listened to their responses:
Q: Do you have a mission statement? How do you see yourself living it?
A: The mission statement, printed in the bulletin in both English and Spanish, follows:
First Presbyterian Church, Marshfield, Wisconsin seeks to welcome all to join us on our journey of faith, denying no one, based upon his or her particular human condition, participation in the life of the church. We want to be a safe place, a sanctuary where people are accepted, included, and cared for as they are. We will be agents of God's transforming power, aligning ourselves with the Holy Spirit as we pray, worship, learn, share fellowship and serve together. By attending to the love of Jesus Christ in our midst, we discover a deepening faith that makes a difference in our lives. As a community based on God's love, we strive to be of service to our neighbors and to the world.
In the past, First Presbyterian was known as the "doctors and professionals church". Three years ago, the mission statement was updated. The congregation wanted to reach out to its community and welcome gays, lesbians, and others. Because of this policy, a group of Spanish-speaking Presbyterians came to the church.
Issues exist within the congregation and the members do not always seek unanimous agreement on these issues. The church is a broad-based umbrella. Members are "works in progress". If they cannot reach consensus, they "agree to disagree". Pastor Scott believes that new people join because the church is living its mission.
Q: How does your congregation equip its members to live out their mission?
A: Members learn through their involvement in activities. To pursue peacemaking, for example, the church sponsored a peace conference. They conducted a survey with questions like: What do you think of when you think of peace? They held a workshop on peaceful parenting. The congregation read the book "The Future of Peace" and brought in its author to clarify peace issues. Muslims from the community were included in these events.
Q: How is your church shaped by the world around it?
A: Visits from mission people from countries like Zimbabwe affect the congregation. Through standing committees and a book group, members develop their own thinking.
Q: How does your congregation determine whom to reach out to? How do you reach out to them?
A: The congregation takes advantage of opportunities that come their way. For example, one family invited its Spanish-speaking neighbors to join the family for Thanksgiving dinner. Because the group was too large for the family's home, the dinner was moved to the church. More people were invited and ultimately 75 attended. The church expects this dinner to become an annual event.
Q: Describe your congregation’s assets: physical, human, financial, intangible.
A: They congregation moved into a new building two years ago. It is a very important asset. It is handicapped accessible and the cost is $3 million. The sanctuary holds 250 people. There is a large narthex with only one exit. Members believe that the narthex causes people to talk immediately after leaving the service. The building also includes a gym that serves as a fellowship hall. The members believe that the congregation would not be growing if they had remained in the old building.
Q: What role does budget play in determining whom you reach out to?
A: Budget is a concern. For the first time in several years, the church began 2005 with a balanced budget.
Q: What is holding your congregation back from doing more?
A: "Only fear may hold us back. The Spirit will take us forward if we are willing to risk. Risks don't even seem like "risks" after you are in that mode."

Midpoint Musings

Sorry it's been so long since the last post. I could give you excuses, but basically, life moves faster on the road than I thought.

Yes, we are back in the US, after our course side-tracked a little and we ended up in London rather than Geneva---more on that another day. Father's Day was transit back from Paris to Chicago, with Lisa's kind boyfriend greeting us (and her!) at the airport, a drive back through Milwaukee, and what a wonderful feeling at about 10:00 p.m. to turn into River Drive.

I will NEED the next two months to put thoughts together after these last four weeks, but for right now, I'm off to a Pastor Theologian event. It's hard to believe we've made it to the midpoint of this sabbatical journey. While on the flight home, I found myself pondering John Brigg's very thoughtful comment on the nature of community, and surrender, and it provided quite a meditation point for me. How hard is it, in this world in which SELF is the center of the universe (do you recall George Carlin's bit on how we went from Life magazine to People to Self?) to talk about our core meanings arising when we give UP ourselves, and surrender to the most basic unit of human being not being ME, but WE. It reminded me of how much I miss John and Suzanne as a part of our congregation's life!

So, there WILL be more postings--I PROMISE--on the rest of the trip. There's more to say about hospitality and Lisa's wonderful host family, the combination of religion and power, seen from the Papal residence in Avignon, and how narrative structures our existence while skipping from mass at St. Martin's in the Field to the British Library to track 8 3/4 at the train station in London and wet walks to the zoo where Harry Potter freed the snake (or whatever it was that Harry Potter did at the London Zoo!) But right now I've got to get my bearings a little, sort out some of the financial stuff, and ENJOY being HOME!

Thanks to all of you for tracking this journey--and know from what's been said above that I TRULY enjoy your comments and feedback.

Chuck

Riomaggiori and the Train to France

The towns of Cinque Terra were wonderful change of pace—no museums, no churches, but spectacular views of the Mediterranean and village after village chiseled into the cliffs that rise mightily out of the water. The towns were, to me, a witness to the indomitable human spirit. There are paths that link one town to the next, and along and aside them are carefully tended groves of grapevines and olive trees. I cannot imagine how hard people worked to make those terraces, and then, year in and year out, care for those vines, and tend those branches, to bring their fruit to market. The sea is gorgeous, but the boats are small, and you see in pictures how the winds and waves can create truly treacherous conditions. Tourists may come now, and sip a fine glass of wine, enjoy a delicious dinner of the freshest fish imaginable, but our ease lies on top of the immense labor of generations.

Cooking School—how simple, and wonderful

A half day’s cooking class at a villa about a half-hour outside of Florence proved to be a highlight of the journey. With another family from Alabama, we made pasta with pesto sauce, bruschetta with tomato and eggplant, and herbed chicken with olives---oh, and something called “chocolatissimo!” Complimented with a good white wine, and topped off with my one and only taste of Grappa, it made for a pretty happy time!

The curious thing about it, for me, was that there was nothing particularly complex about anything we did. They were simple ingredients—flour, eggs, eggplant, tomatoes—though they were as fresh as the morning’s market (it’s worth thinking about what we lose by having the choices our supermarkets make available 24/7/365—eggs with yokes so bright yellow that they’re almost orange, and basil and thyme that are straight from the garden to the kitchen with an aroma I think I can still smell). But as these simple, fresh ingredients were combined in a mindful and patient way, they create a feast.

I wondered what would happen to my life if ALL my eating were so mindful and care-full? One of the things that’s Hard to adjust to in Italy is a daily schedule that takes a good 1 ½ to 2 hours for a lunch break—a far cry from the 15 to 20 minutes we too often take to ”drive through” and then wolf down a burger and fries at our desks or at a stoplight.

One of the things you notice as you tour the various monasteries is that the refectory in each place is dominated by a painting of the Last Supper on one wall. The monks, it seemed, understood that EVERY meal was an extension of the Lord’s Table (remember how peeved Paul was to learn that some in CORINTH?? Were eating their meals before the community’s worship began?)

On a very practical level, I wondered what it would do to the life of a community like Memorial if were ate, regularly, in this mindful—dare I say spiritual—way? It’s why, I think, potluck suppers are such high points of our common life, but what if such a pattern of eating were not an exceptional event in our life, but (as our Book of Order’s Directory of Worship suggests) gathering at the Table were understood to be integral to, and not an exceptional act of worship? Maybe, in some deep way, we ARE what—or at least HOW—we eat.

Day 40 or so…Florence, Medicis and a Humble Monk

Florence is the cradle of the renaissance whose fruits were so magnificently born in the halls of the Vatican museum, and the next stop of our sojourn. The city of the Medicis, it had the great good fortune of emerging from the plagues of the late 14th century in relative health, and thanks to the banking genius and penchant for collecting the very best of anything they could, it became the locus for a cultural transformation that would alter the fabric of Western culture.

As Denise’s friend likes to say, you can’t swing a cat in Florence without hitting a fresco. Our first stop was the gorgeous baptistery that stands next to Florence’s famed Duomo, or Cathedral. Its immense dome is completely covered with golden mosaic that bears the obvious influence of the Eastern Church. As I sat beneath them, and then in our tour of the next day learned of the banking prowess of the Medicis, and the way in which tiled floors were made to look like Persian rugs, I was struck by the immense influence that what we would recognize as Eastern Orthodox traditions had on what came to be known as the Western renaissance. Many of the texts which were “recovered” in this time, which allowed science to flourish, had been kept in safe keeping by Muslims as well as monks. The moral of the story: the way in which we carve up our world is sometimes too convenient, and tells the tale of only one facet in a diamond. The richness of who we are owes a great deal to those whom we suppose to have conquered, and our debt is great to those who might otherwise be considered more “primitive” than us.

Making your way from one Medici palace to the next, one cathedral to another built by their patronage, you begin to wonder what it was that drove these people. Were they such pious folk that they simply couldn’t help but spend their next fortune on another church, or was the church one more of the things from antiquity they collected just to be able to say it was theirs? Did they have any idea as they were bringing together the incredible resources of Florence, they would create a treasury that would last long after their power had faded? The elder de Medici, in return for his patronage of San Marco, had the largest cell in the monastery, but there’s no particular reason to believe that it was ever used as a place of prayerful contemplation. It’s much more likely to have been the secure place in which the most sensitive of his business dealings might have been accomplished, sequestered from the public eye.

If the monks had their way, much of the collection people come from around the world to see today would have been consumed in Savanarola’s “bonfire of the vanities,” but power and piety being such as they were in the 15th Century, it was Savanarola who was consumed, instead, and his quiet brother, Fra Angelica’s mystical paintings are what endure.

I need to give more thought to what the implications are for the church and world in which we now live. Clearly, the arts have taken their own path, and no longer rely on the patronage of the church, nor in general use religious imagery as their major palate for subjects. The simplest observation is that if there still is something that can be talked about as Western Culture, its roots are firmly planted in the soil of the church, but it was a church very different from one we might recognize today, in that it was a central pillar in the power structures of the day. It WAS a matter of life or death as to how you stood in relation to the church, and not a matter of taking your family down the street to a church whose teachings were more amenable to your way of thinking.

It’s a double-edged sword. The institutional church clearly is less central to life in our times, and as a result plays a far smaller role in shaping the surrounding culture. We find ourselves, more often, shaping our culture to the world (as when the football schedules are the first thing on the church calendar, and we search for music forms that are “more attractive” or “accessible” to those who were not raised in the church. But does that more marginal role allow us to be truer to the central calling of Christianity? To be more “Christ-like”? If the church no longer needs to be the bearer of the entire cultural legacy of the surrounding world, might we instead be better placed to clothe the naked, feed the poor, bring justice and mercy to a world in deep pain?

Day 36 continued...yet again

I don’t suppose I’ve ever had as deep a sense of history as in Rome. The Vatican gives way to the prison of Marmartinum, where tradition says St. Peter baptized St. Martin—the self-same St. Martin who then becomes the compatriot of St. Columbo in Iona. But even that gives way to the ancient gods of Rome, and Romulus.

Touring the Vatican museum you cannot help but see how deeply our civilization is embedded in Christianity, and Christianity, in turn, is a product of this Greco-Roman culture whose roots stretch back well before Christendom. Perhaps the most thought provoking art to my eye came in the papal rooms, which were painted by Rafael. The story is that Michelangelo and Rafael were locked in competition as one executed the masterpiece of the Sistine Chapel while the other worked in what would have been thought to have been the private residence of the Pope. Our guide explained the magnificent murals in what would have been the Pope’s “signature” room—the place where these most significant acts of his papacy would have been accomplished. Two walls dominate: one showing the history of theology in a single fresco, the facing wall with the greatest philosophers and scientists. The middle wall would have been where the Pope himself sat, surrounded by the virtues. In a single room, there is literally a universe with the church it’s final interpreter and arbiter.

To stand in the Sistine Chapel is not only to look up on the most amazing achievement of Renaissance art, but to contemplate a history of succession, intrigue, and great piety mixed with the basest of political motives. It was not more than two months ago that this room was filled with the cardinals who elected Benedict XVI, in a process that dates back longer than any Presbytery. It is an awesome experience.

But it all comes at a certain price, doesn’t it? Our Sunday excursion began at the Coliseum—the Lambeau Field of its day. If ever I complain about the violence that colors our American society, I’ll be reminded of the bloodthirsty scenes that cry out from those rocks. Fifty animals slain in a day, and that was the “warm up act” for gladiators who would fight to the death, or the condemned (which at one time meant the Christians) who would be helplessly thrown into the amphitheater to be gored and killed while the crowds cheered.

Praise God that we’ve found forms of entertainment that don’t require such horrifying spectacle, but I did, for just a moment, wonder why I was so intrigued when the American military mounted Operation Shock and Awe, and I was glued to the television set while bunker busters and 2 ton bombs leveled cities, but didn’t seem to count those killed or wounded unless they were members of the US Military. Beneath every civil society, it seems, there is a pulse of blood thirst. May God have mercy on us….

day 36 continued

One of the objectives of our time in Sicily was to experience and reflect on the nature of “family” as we met those relations of Denise’s family who remained in the first quarter of the last Century when a part of the family gave hugs and promises, and made their way to a land of new promise.

Sicily is a BEAUTIFUL land, with rolling hills covered with grapevines, orange groves and olive trees. We had the chance to take in the view outside the gates of the house in which Denise’s great-grandmother was born, to stop briefly in the beautiful church in which several generations would have been baptized, married and mourned. For them, it would have meant several months journey to a land they would not even have seen in photographs. It’s difficult to imagine how one could come to such a choice, but choose they did—to at least MY great good fortune!

We greeted several folk who could only be characterized as shirt tale relations, but were welcomed as received AS family. Eating pizza in the street café on our first night, or near midnight in the family pizzeria in Calmonici on our last, you see how fiercely and proudly these family ties are guarded and valued. It would be very easy to sentimentalize the relationships and the lives we found in these days, but I think it’s fair to say that what might have separated folk by the better part of a century, several lines on a family tree, and thousands of miles, melted away when dissolved in the medium of “la famiglia”. Even a middle aged American with German heritage felt right at home—wanted, welcomed, made to feel like “one of us!”

day 36, i think!

It’s been quite some time since I’ve been able to write—sorry to those who have been following, but apparently, internet access is harder in Rome than in Sicily. Who’d have thought it! Since last checking in we’ve been to Ribera, Agrigento, and Calamonici—the ancestral home of Denise’s father, and then overnight on the train to Rome.

What have I learned? How much time have you got? Let’s start with some basics. The best of travel plans don’t always work out. We knew that one of the challenges was going to be getting Lisa to the various places we were going to be along the way, while getting her back to Aix in time for her exams. What you cannot control for are late planes, train strikes, and what I’ve come to think about as the human aspects of travel. There are many things you could say about the process, but most are not appropriate for a blog that’s rated “G”! Once the steam settles, and you get over the frustration, however, you come to realize how often while traveling you are dependent on the kindness of strangers—maybe the ticket agent who listens to your story and sympathizes, or the veteran train traveler who assures you that those seats are, indeed, your seats, and the people in them will have to move! It’s harder to be assertive when you don’t speak the language!

So, Agrigento, and some of the finest ancient ruins in the world was one of our first stops. Huge temple ruins mark a place where Greek civilizations thrived at about the same time as the late Kingdoms of Israel. Massive structures were built without the aid of our modern building equipment (though you do see the remains of a rudimentary crane). All of it, eventually, came to naught, stones from magnificent temples were carried away to make homes for people who looked upon the former gods as oddities.

From the time of those “old rocks” as Gabi affectionately called them, three or four other major civilizations have influenced the Sicilian culture—Arabs, Spanish, Roman, and North African. There are memorials to those who died in WWII, and still traces of the bombing that even a place as remote as Southern Sicily was subject to. One thinks of the preacher in Ecclesiastes---vanity of vanities, all is vanity!

Then, if you’re looking down as you make your way along the path, you notice colony after colony of ants, toiling away as, I have to assume, they have since those ancient Greeks gathered in the dawn’s light to offer their sacrifices within the great temples, and then when the Moors and Muslims, and Christians traded blows. I thought of standing at the foot of the great Sequoias in California—trees that had stood in the same place since the time of Jesus—and wondering just who this world “belongs” to. Maybe more than anything, that we are most certainly sojourners at best on this good earth. We may build things we think will endure for al the ages, but it’s the ants who will be there when everything is said and done!

Take a breath, go to the tap and draw a cold, clean glass of water, and ponder that!

Day 28 - Community and Hospitality

It came as something of a shock to think that with the Sunday that’s about to dawn, we will be ¼ of the way through this time of sabbatical. The past days have been mostly travel punctuated with truly wonderful opportunities. Leaving Iona, I made my way to Edinburgh, and a delightful evening with Syd Graham (who sends his best wishes to all!)

Included in our time was attendance in the closing session of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. This is a church that is steeped in tradition, which fairly oozes out on such occasions. The meeting begins with the Moderator’s silent bows to those gathered, and ends with a speech by the Moderator and the Lord High Commissioner—the Queen’s representative who is carefully located in a chair above and behind the Moderator, where he can observe the proceedings, but participates only in the form of this closing speech.

The evening includes recognition of all the retiring clergy, and all those who have been ordained in the last year. There is a real sense of the continuity of this church’s life.

Through a wonderful dinner with Syd we talked about his long experience with the Iona Community. I think the most striking part of the conversation was a distinction that came clear in my mind between community and hospitality. Community, as I’ve noted in previous posts, is hard work, and requires people to give of themselves in ways that are not quite natural in this world we live in. But hospitality is a different gift—it requires a mindfulness to those who ar eon the fringes, who perhaps don’t share your core values, or agree with you, but are present to you nonetheless. I was reminded of the definition of true community as the place where you find yourself across the table from the person you’d least like to share a meal with. Hospitality requires us to look beyond ourselves, and to welcome the stranger, which I KNOW, but don’t always treat as an angel unawares.

It got me to thinking about the life of our congregation, and wondering if there are times when our community makes us less hospitable than perhaps we should. I recall a conversation with one of you about the odd fact that we can have good, meaningful interaction with the Islamic Society, but it’s hard for us to talk with fundamentalist or evangelical Christians. I realize that one reason I find that table of fellowship uncomfortable is that I’m thinking of it as a place of community, and grieve the fact that we are so often so far apart on what I think are core values in my faith. But what, I wonder, would it mean to look at these conversations as opportunities for hospitality, instead—welcoming without judgment the one who is your neighbor.

Of course, the guest has different expectations to the brother or sister in community, too. But it seems worth thinking about to me.

Day 24: pilgrimage and healing

Two interesting events since last I wrote--a pilgrimage around the island (about a six hour walk covering 7 miles, with much boggy peat to which I lost my shoe once!) and in the evening a service of prayers for healing.

The pilgrimage around the island is structured to help you think about the reasons that brought you to Iona. For me, it was mostly a quiet walk, trying to understand what it is about this place that has, for years, provided inspiration to folk who are as committed to community and social justice as any I've ever met. I've been reading the story of the beginnings of the community, and George MacLeod, who really was the energizing force. For those of you who don't know the story, it was his vision to bring a group of unemployed laborers and a group of seminarians, hoping that in their interactions as they worked together on rebuilding the common areas in this ancient site, the pastors would gain a better understanding of the challenges of social ministry.

At the core of what Iona does is a deep commitment to building community, but it's sort of interesting that the way to build community is to take people OUT of the ones they're in. The roots of the monastic orders seem to lie not far below the surface--a close community of brothers, who had to forsake their secular lives in order to be a part, but then carried their work back into the world.

What does this have to say about the challenges of building a church community in the 21st century? I think the core of it for me is the notion of commitment. We try so hard to make church membership as easy as possible, but in the end, I wonder if we do both ourselves and our new members a favor? How do you craft the sort of commitment I see among those who work at the Abbey-leaving their lives for 1-3 years, in order to invest in this vision? Community demands commitment, and we seem to live in a world in which my commitment to just about anything is defined in terms of what it can give me today.

The healing service--again, an amazing experience of worship, which was forged on the assumption that these were people who were deeply committed to each other, and to the work they shared. They are VERY clear that it is not a 'healing service' but a 'service of prayer for healing'. They do it, they say, because people around the world have asked for their prayers. The core of the service is a time in which those who desire some sort of healing--body, mind or soul-kneel in a circle, while three members of the community stand inside, and anyone who wished stands outside, and lays on hands. It ends up looking like our ordination service, but open to any and all.

I wonder if its something that would help us to enact our own sense of community at MPC--an a natural extention of the Deacon's and Prayer Chain ministries. Would members of the church be sufficiently committed to COME to such a service once a week--once a month?

The moral of the story for today: community is hard work, and requires REAL commitment. And if you step in the wrong spot in a boggy hollow, be ready to dig out your boot!

Thanks to those who've added their comments....how about you?

Day 22 - Worship, Silence and Community

Hello, all--##Yes, there IS an Iona, and I'm On it! It's really quite a journey to get here, and the further you get, the more surreal it seems, until finally you're crossing on the last ferry, with the Abbey and ruins on the shore ahead, with the small village ready to welcome you.

Worship is central to the life at the Abbey, and on Sunday, that meant three very different services for me. The communion service at the Abbey started things off, with wonderful singing, and a very good sermon by the Warden of the Community. 45 in all are taking part in the seminar I'm in on Spirituality of the Highlands and Islands, mostly from England but a smattering from the US and other parts of Europe.

At noon I led the Parish church in worship (Syd Graham's congregation.) About 25-30 good souls, and an intrepid organist (85 years old, but heart and wit of someone half his age--he SO clearly loved what he was doing, and was beloved by the congregation. No one under 40 in the crowd, but they wanted to know what I would have said, where I do have a time for children, and so Ralph was able to come to Iona, too! They were all most gracious, but you'd have to ask them for yourselves for an honest evaluation of their guest preacher!

Perhaps the most interesting service, for me personally, was the evening "quiet service". Mostly silence, with gospel reading, and the encouragement to search for God 'inside'. We were welcome to stay for as long as we liked. I found myself captivated by the closing words: the 'nunc diminus' (Lord, now let your servant depart in peace.) and stayed on til all were gone. What I discovered is that the silence of a congregation praying is VERY different from the silence of an empty Abbey. It was MOST interesting. The community is SO vital, even when you are, for all practical purposes, doing nothing but BEING together.

Following I went for a walk through the cemetery (the sun sets at about 10:00!) amid stones for ancient monks and nuns, several for unknown sailors, and one for 'Wee Neil, aged 3' I was reminded of my friend Bob from Minnesota, who thought every church really needed a cemetery outside its windows to remind us of the arc of our lives.

So, much experienced, much to process. But go to the far corner of the earth, and the inn down the road will probably have an internet connection!

Thanks, Lucy and Richard, for adding your thoughts. I know others of you are lurking out there. Feel free to join in!

Chuck

Day 20--the Adventure Begins!

So we made it through "Wheels up" and I'm writing from a cybercafe in Glasgow, waiting for the train which will eventually lead to Iona. The trip was spent preparing my sermon for Syd Graham's parish on Iona tomorrow and reading a very interesting piece I tracked from Syd's lead by the Church of Scotland on their vision for the church in the 21st century. A few comments come quickly-

1. The Church of Scotland was and is the established church, which presents it with some unique challenges, but the language they use is very similar to the vocabulary that MPC will be tracing in their studies during this time--right down to Lauren Mead!

2. The report can be boiled down to two words the roll of the church in the world in the 21st century is to FOLLOW CHRIST. As is so often the case, "application" is much more difficult than "explanation" but the document (a report by a special commission on review and reform) spells out very nicely the "core calling" of the church

The calling is PERSONAL, LOCAL, sacrificial, RADICAL, GLOBAL, ESCHATOLOGICAL (it has to do with God's reign breaking upon us and DOXOLOGICAL (the church exists by the grace of God FOR the glory of God.) A very helpful summary!

3. The document recommends "that the church recover the lost art of Christian friendship. This lost art is not about being a friendly church, but makes friends beyond "those that salute you." It notes that true Christian friendship is about commitment to each other and openness to each other.

Wonderful thoughts to lead me to a week of reflection at iona.

Thanks, friends, for following my journey. Met me know what YOU think!

Day 16

Three days 'til lift-off, and on to Scotland, so the past week has been pretty much given over to refining the details of the trip--little things, like hotels, when does the train go there, getting Lisa to Rome. One of the happy turns of event is that I'll be preaching next Sunday at the parish church in Iona (the same one Pastor Steve preached in when he was in Scotland) as our friend, Syd Graham will be in Edinburgh, at the beginning of the Church of Scotland's General Assembly. It will be good to share worship with those folk as a part of my Iona experience.

Which leads to the more or less substantive reflection of the past several days. On Sunday, we worshipped at First English Lutheran Church (North Ballard location.) There were four baptisms - all from the same family!-and as always in Lutheran worship, the celebration of the Lord's Table. The service there is more "contemporary" as that word has come to be used in the context of protestant worship--a "band" with guitars, keyboard, drums. It was all fine....But

the thing I find myself most longing for as I am now, what, 1/8 of the way into this, is the connection to a community I know, and who knows ME. How hard it is to be an anonymous worshipper, and how hard to truly appreciate what is going on in a Sunday service when you really feel like you're sitting in someone else's living room, listening in on their personal stories. To be sure, the scripture, the songs, the words of the Eucharist and baptism, are all shared in common, but it's the nuances, the cadences,that vary and create the real warp and weave of a congregation's soul.

My provisional conclusion: there is something truly to be celebrated in the uniqueness of each congregation. How tragic it would be if we became something like McDonald's--absolutely predictable, adequately palatable, but without really KNOWING who's sitting next to you, and without the wondrous variety that makes life so sweet!

I hope the first conversations with Jose Irizarry brought some interesting thoughts to some minds. Next time I write will most likely be en route or IN Scotland, so keep me in your prayers for safe travel---as you'll be in mine!

Day 9 - Part 2

The next bit of reading I've turned to is a report from a consultation sponsored by the World Council of Churches regarding the structures of the ecumenical movement for the 21st century.

Two things strike me in the early reading: 1. On a global scale, what is "normal" for us at MPC is far from the "norm". We might know a Muslim or two, but many in this world are surrounded by Arab culture. The levels of wealth we take for granted are exceptional on a global scale, and the levels of poverty that the majority of the world takes for granted is unimaginable for us.

So, for a project such as we're about, one of the significant questions we need to grapple with is "Which World?" Do we mean Appleton? The Fox Valley? The US? The globe? Do we mean Presbyterians? Mainline protestants? Christians? Believers? The larger the circle is drawn,the more complex the interactions, but is it possible to live in the smaller boxes?

Second thing (I guess it's related) is that there is much attention given to the fact that the "axis" of Christianity is shifting in two ways: from North to South, and from denominational/confessional Christianity to less organized, less centralized, more congregational forms. The interesting thing is that a congregation is on the margins of BOTH those developments: we're Northern, and we're denominational. And neither are something we can easily change. Part of me says, "so we're not the center of the world anymore...get over it!" but again, the question that gnaws is just what IS our context? So we're a denominational church in the North--should we just pack it in and sit on the sidelines, or is there a way in which we are uniquely called to be faithful either BECAUSE of or IN SPITE OF the larger currents?

You all can join in anytime if you'd like!

Day 9

First let me finish up a thought relating to the book Congregations in America. As I noted, the author argues that the main influence congregations have in our society rest in the areas of arts and culture. This is based on the observation that in the average congregation, the bulk of resource (time, talent, finance) is directed toward the service of worship which is, if you think about it, at least 1/3 an experience of the arts.

Nowhere, the book argues, is the average American more likely to experience music than in a congregation (or, for that matter, drama or dance). More people see such events in churches than anywhere else--including public venues like the PAC, or educational institutions like Lawrence. Bottom line, the church is the entryway to cultural experiences for the average American.

So, the style of arts used in church (now it's me thinking, not the book) shapes the way in which most folk participate in the arts. The book does not look at casual exposure, like what radio stations people listen to, but what we sit together and listen to. Another implication, in my mind, is that cultural organizations need to take congregations seriously if they want to build their audience for the future.

Bottom line: How are we called to be the church of Jesus Christ in the world in the 21st century? The use of arts and our place in culture cannot be ignored. If social service or political action are important, they will most likely be in circumscribed ways by a limited number of people within the congregation.

Day 5 and counting

So the reality of this is beginning to settle in for me! Planning for the trip is starting to come together, with the exciting addition of a cooking class in Tuscany!

I've begun reading a book entitled "Congregations in America" which looks at and processes data from a comprehensive survey done a few years back regarding congregational life in the US across denominational lines, and including synagogues (but I don't think mosques). It's the source of something I often site: that while the average congregation is composed of 75 adult participants (that's the median--half of the churches are bigger, half are smaller) the average MEMBER of a congregation is in a 400 member church.

The book goes on to chronicle various aspects of typical congregational life---finances (average budget for congregations is $56,000, 60% don't have full time leadership, only a very few have endowments or reserves equal to a year's operating expense.)

The strongest point the book makes is that the primary impact that a congregation has on the community around it is in terms of "culture", not social service or political influence. Most churches spend most of their resources on maintaining worship. Less than a 5th are actively involved in community ministry, and when a church does have this type of activity, it tends to be the work of a small group of committed volunteers (or the purview of a paid staff person) working on a very specific project--most often NOT involving extensive contact with people of need, and most often NOT incorporating people of need into the life of the congregation...chew on that for a while!

As a side light, we got a chance to view "Hotel Rwanda". Now here's a troubling bit of history, as the West stood by as literally millions were slaughtered. The key line in the film for me--when pressed as to why the West was not going to intervene, the UN commander said "They don't care. They'll see it on the news, say,'that's awful' and then they'll go back to their desserts."

I'm listening with my "how are we called to be the church" ears, and I know that the church had a VERY ambiguous role in the genocide. What IS it about group behavior that allows such horror to occur, and what is it about group behavior that allows you to hear about it, understand it on some level, but remain isolated from it?

What are the "mini-horrors" that are going on around us today? What does it mean that MOST congregations in the US have little or nothing to do with it all? Tough questions....but three months and 25 days left to forage for answers!

Keep in touch!

And so it begins

Thanks to Beth and Richard, I am reminded that this thing really works!

And so, I am now officially three days into sabbatical....Three months, 27 days to go! My main reflections right now are on the "glow" of the farewell event. What a great image of MPC to carry with me as I begin this journey. It would have been impressive with only the dinner and silent auction (THANKS, Sr. High's and all their adult assistants--hope you made a TON of money for the work trip) but the talent show (and the audience in attendance) were a wonderful testimony to the nature of this church--from 3 to 83, from songs to original poetry to an unforgettable rendition of the cremation of Sam mc gee. It was fun, it was poignant, it was a true representation of a good and healthy congregation.

Which leads me to consideration of Sunday morning's discussion of the Congregation video, and how our congregation is called to be in the world in the next century. I would love to hear the "outsider's" reflection of Jose Irizarry, but my first response was that the group gathered listened carefully to each other, there was profound respect for, and interest in, what each person had to say.

I don't know if the simple "model" that was presented for reasons the church might want to be in the world is supple enough for the task, but I suspect the challenge for MPC is to explore that line between "we do it because the needs of the people in this world are real and deep" and "we do it in gratitude for what God has done for us". I know, from the folk who work hard as a part of thelife of this congregation, that theirs is not merely (I don't use that word in a diminutive sense) a matter of social obligation. They are motivated by the teachings and example of Jesus. But to what extent, if any, do we do what we do in this world in order to bring Christ or to grow Christ's witness in that world? In a word, does Jesus matter? Or maybe more precisely, does what Jesus has done for ME matter to those whom I am called to love and care for in response?

If you're interested, most of my time these days is spent in trying to bring clarity to the travels we'll undertake in a few weeks. Mostly, I feel like I'm taking time off that I hadn't taken in the last three months, because I was preparing to disengage.

T - 7 and counting!

We're one week away from the startingdate of the sabbatical, and through the second of three interesting discussinos regarding the place of the church in the world and in our lives. This morning's focus seemed to be on the relationship between diversity and continuity. As I then drove to a meeting in Galena, I found myself wondering how exactly we come to the consideration that some things are essential and others matters of conscience.

As wespoke about the uniqueness of our congregation, I wondered why no one spoke specifically about the way in which the life of the churchled us in a meaningful way into the life of Christ. Openness, questioning, the quality of acceptance are all important, but does the fact that we preach Christ important to us?

Pastor Chuck Valenti-Hein 

getting started

Due to the enormous generosity of the Lilly Endowment, and the good people of Memorial Presbyterian Church in Appleton, Wisconsin, the next several months of my life will be dedicated to a time of sabbatical, focusing on this question: How are we called to be the church of Jesus Christ in the world in the 21st century.

This Blog will provide opportunities for me to post learnings and musings along the way, and hopefully provide members of the church with a way of sharing the journey with me. Welcome to all who wish to share this journey, as we seek to claim God's way into our world!

Pastor Chuck