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.