And it's four months

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." - Margaret Mead.

Invitations

So, all in all things are off to a fairly good start. I have tried to heed Rev. Camphouse's words of wisdom and have tried to come in without a vision but instead to listen and to help the people try to figure out just what in the heck God wants to do here. So I have been visiting like a crazy person, making trips to the hospital, catching up on House season 4 and most of all, learning the tricks of the trade that operating a riding lawnmower involves.

As I have been listening and preaching and pastoral caring what I have discovered in many ways is that its much easier to think about how the church and how the pastor should do things than it actually is to do them. One of the things that I have been thinking most about and trying to figure out how to do well is invitation.

Much of my thinking on this issue starting in a conversation with my Baptist-leaning dad over dinner. My churches have a history that involves a weekly altar call (Those of you who remember my time at the Candler Office of Worship will find this full of karma). Not surprisingly, we are currently not doing an altar call. I was explaining this to my father and he getting quite concerned; and he challenged me to think about how to invite people to consider salvation.

Now I explained to my dad that as a United Methodist Mr. Wesley would never talk about one moment of being saved but that our whole lives we were in the process of being saved, but that didn't seem to answer it. And as I have walked away from our dinner conversation, I have been thinking a lot about what it means to invite people to live the Christian life, in worship, in Bible study, in pastoral care and in our life together as a church.

I don't think that the traditional altar call or even the invitation to Christian discipleship that most of us have somewhere in our bulletins really get the whole thing, but I am having trouble visualizing what not just welcoming folks to hang out with us or even serve on one of our committees but inviting them to participate in the Christian life looks like.

This thought has been kicking around my head for a couple of weeks and I still don't have a clear direction about it. I think part of it is probably creating space for responses to the word that include silence and contemplation. I imagine part of it is creating some space for a public response, because our faith is public. And I imagine part of it is inviting folks into small groups that wrestle with the practices. And I imagine another chunk of it involves inviting folks to participate in justice in our community. I'm not sure how it fits together and my guess is that I won't have it all figured out for a while.

It turns out this stuff ain't easy. Maybe its time to go back to school.

Changes

So, it's been a little while since I posted. Getting commissioned, receiving an appointment, leaving Atlanta and moving to Greeneville will do that to you. There is other news that many of you know about, but employment issues prevent me from blogging about it just yet. It is very good news, and life, despite being apart from Erin and adjusting to a new place, is relatively good.

A few things that have been noteworthy in the last couple months and the first few days of my new appointment.

1. A helpful neighbor giving me a heads up about the importance of the KJV.

2. It is really helpful being connected to fellow pastors, particularly when you have to figure out something as crazy as going from Atlanta to the farm.

3. We heard Adam Hamilton at annual conference this year. I think we probably should have read more of Hamilton in seminary. Although I didn't agree with him on everything, he had very good things to say, was theologically sound, and has figured out how to involve people in a UM community of faith that seems to live out a Wesleyan way of life in some good ways. Plus, once you enter the church he is one of those people you have to be able to be conversant in.

4. We made what I think was a good decision to approve direct billing for pastor's health insurance at annual conference. It's going to be a challenge for some smaller churches, but if people aren't going to pay apportionments in full, then we have to be responsible. This feels like a tough, challenging, but ultimately responsible facing of reality.

5. Who knew that three different churches in one charge meant three different hymnals? Apparently, I should have.

6. In our conference the commissioning service is connected to the retirement service. Quite humbling watching pastors who have served 51 years pass the mantle to us. Exciting, invigorating, challenging. A good reminder of what we are committing ourselves to. With God's help.

6. Being young, single and the new pastor, I have more garden-fresh vegetables than I know what to do with.

You would think that living in a new place, about twenty five minutes from anything (and by anything I mean Wal-Mart, Ingles, the Applebee's and Zaxby's), apart from the boss would lead to more consistent blogging. It probably will, but I make no promises.

It's a 40-Incher

It's been much discussed, much-researched, much-obsessed over, but yesterday I made an investment that will no doubt change my life.


Yes, I bought a television. But not just any television - a 40-inch, 1080 p, 120 hz top of the line, state of the art Samsung television.

I wasn't planning on such a purchase a couple of months ago, but after learning that my new placement will take me to the edge of civilization, a friend said, "Ogle, I think a big screen television now becomes a completely justifiable purchase." Figuring that the television and I would be rediscovering our relationship, I readily agreed.

I have been researching what I "needed", how much I was willing to spend, and yesterday those two factors came together thanks to an end of the model year, a Best Buy associate eager to make a sale and a girlfriend who knows how to haggle for a half-price television.

I know my life will never be the same. I don't know how I did ministry before this purchase, but I am quite sure that my new parishioners will greatly benefit from this investment. And I have a feeling I might be attracting some visitors to watch football on Saturdays.

Yes, life is good.

The Boss Makes YouTube

So, Erin, who is the director of development for Easter Seals here in North Georgia, was interviewed by a children's television station. And to make things even better, her interview is posted on YouTube. Her interview starts about a minute in. She's the one who looks like she's older than 12.



In case you are interested, you can still register for the Easter Seals walk at Grant Park, which is tomorrow and begins at 9 at Grant Park. I'll be the good looking one passing out t-shirts.

Low Mileage Tires and High Anxiety

So, I don't think I could ever run a ponzi scheme. I just don't have the stomach for it.

I got a flat tire after hitting a GINORMOUS pothole on my way home on Monday. Considering it was my second one in ten days and knowing that I needed to get a new set soon anyway, I went ahead and took the plunge.

I like to consider myself pretty laid back and able to roll with the punches, but the reality of spending that amount of money living on a seriously reduced income took all the energy out of me. I was so worried about my ability to make it through the end of June on my current income (to any worried readers I will be able to do, so no need to send donations) that I lost all ability to do much of anything. I graded a couple of papers, holed myself in my room, ate some gourmet eggs that Erin cooked for me, listened to her sermon on trust, and then went to sleep.

I also realized, in my afternoon of nothingness, how lucky I am. Although I have been through quite a bit of things over the last couple months, I also have friends and family who helped me out and would continue to do so if I asked.

I am not sure how people who have to live paycheck to paycheck do it. The increased stress level and heightened anxiety of living this way for five months has given me a great appreciation for the chronically poor and the more than 5 million Americans who have lost their job in this financial meltdown.

While we often speak about the burden of making ends meet without adequate resources, the psychological burden often goes unnoticed. Anxiety and stress make it harder to work, harder to keep up the struggle against all the forces of depression.

I'm very thankful to have a job, thankful that this paycheck-to-paycheck lifestyle will end soon, and wanting to pray for all those folks who don't have the same luxury.

A Cautionary Tale

"I blame the radio for sowing a good deal of confusion where theology is concerned. And television is worse. You can spend forty years teaching people to be awake to the fact of mystery and some fellow with no more theological sense than a jackrabbit gets himself a radio ministry and all your work is forgotten." - Gilead

Good, Smart, Christian Folks

It has become quite clear to me, in the course of the last week, that I hang out with a bunch of very good and very smart people.

I assume that most people who go to graduate school would say the same thing, but I can't help but think that I have been particularly blessed by being surrounded by so many people who deeply love the church, who have been blessed with great intelligence, and try to join these two things in spite of the many forces that try to keep them apart.

Last Tuesday I had coffee with my friend Josh where we tried to figure out how to be good and faithful truth tellers in incredibly difficult and sensitive pastoral situations. Later that night I had dinner with Heather, a committed Christian activist, to discuss how seminary and faith interacted with relationships and vocation in a terrible job market.

This is only in one day, and doesn't count the dinner Erin and I had with Ben and Laura as we discussed our respective ventures in the academy and the church, as well as bookshelf construction. In the surprise of the night Laura actually declared that I sounded quite pastoral.

Erin and I have been discussing how to read the Bible while reading Eugene Peterson's Eat This Book during Lent. I get the chance to speak frequently to my friends out in the ministerial wilderness across the country, and it is not uncommon after these conversations to think how lucky I am. That was the case after praying over decisions of the Cabinet with Lance.

I am in the process of saying a long goodbye to my Atlanta community. I will leave in June to head back to Tennessee and know that I will make new friends and meet new colleagues in ministry, but they will have big shoes to fill. I hope to find a way to stay connected with these people who have blessed and shaped my life, because quite frankly, I know I'll need their voices and wisdom to hold me accountable and to help me be the most faithful disciple and pastor I can be.

Public Accountability

So, I went to Zesto's yesterday, taking the boss out for a big night on the town.
While we we waiting for our ice cream, the lady behind the counter asked a customer a question.
"Are you OK?", she asked a young woman, who presumably had been at Zesto's for quite some time.
"I mean, he's had his tongue down your throat for about two hours. I just want to make sure you can still breathe."
Amazing.

When Bad Things Happen to Bad People (Genesis 9)

The gauntlet was thrown down. A friend of mine, a thoughtful scholar and colleague, devoted to the past, present, and future of the United Methodist Church threw down a challenge. Search the deep recesses of your mind, he asked, and remember the last time you heard a sermon on Original Sin in a United Methodist Church. Original Sin, that famous or infamous doctrine, that emerges from the beginning of the Bible and haunts us today with its shocking bad news – that somehow despite being wonderfully made in the image of God that all of us, every single one of us, is completely and totally distorted. That no matter how good our intentions, no matter how well we mean, that our wills are curved to sin and fall out of relationship with God. John Wesley, the founder and shaper of our particular way of being the Church, said that our tendency to sin is so great, that the result of Adam and Eve’s sin in the garden is that we have lost the image of God within ourselves. The point of our Christian lives, the one thing needful and the one purpose of our being, is to regain the image of God that we lost.

It shouldn’t really surprise us that most of can’t remember too many sermons focusing on Original Sin. This awful reality, confirmed every morning in new newspaper and every night on the 11 o’clock news, isn’t an idea likely to grow your church. People aren’t flocking to hear their preacher tell them how bad they are, the wretchedness of their wills, and the corruptness of their very existence. Although there are some churches and some denominations who train preachers to pound their congregations into submission every Sunday morning, we Methodists like to talk about more pleasant things, like faith, and hope, and love. A friend of mine named Ellen, a bright and faithful Christian who went to a church bent on convincing her of her sinfulness put it this way – Ogle, I’m tired of hearing every Sunday how awful I am. A comforting and life-affirming doctrine it isn’t.

God, is turns out, in our Scripture passages this morning isn’t in a real life-affirming mood. While we tend to view God more as a grandfather and grandmother, wrapping us in a warm embrace, God really hasn’t been in a mood for hugging. Human beings, the highlight of God’s creation, have not quite turned out as God had planned. While God created us, both male and female in God’s image, things went awry quite quickly. Instead of creatures living in harmony with God and each other, human beings rejected God. They horded pieces of the creation, they lied, they cheated, they stole, and most egregiously, they murdered. The stench of the earth rose up to high heaven - God was angry, God was remorseful for even beginning this project. God was so sorry at the people and the world that had distorted his good creation, that God wanted to start over. God was going to wipe out every human being and every animal on the earth. Things would be better, God thought, the next time around.

And if there’s anything we know about this God, about the God who created the world from chaos, is that God doesn’t do small-scale. When God wanted to start over, God did it with water, gallons and gallons of cleansing and chaotic water, water that was unpredictable, uncontrollable, and unwieldy. Noah, somehow, found favor with God, for some reason God thought well of Noah, and chose to make Noah the person he would start over with. You know the story, Noah, his wife, and his sons built the ark, with all the animals, two by two, and waited out the flood for 40 days on the ark God commissioned them to build.

What is striking about this story of Noah, what is striking about the this piece of Scripture, is not that it names humanity as utterly sinful, because we all know that we are. What is striking about this story is not that God tries to obliterate creatures that conspire against the divine plan. What is most striking is what comes next, that God’s answer to the problem is not to finish the job, but to stop, and to make a promise. This premise, destruction of the world and all that is in it, is not a foreign one to readers or moviegoers. There are scores of movies, Independence Day comes to mind, when the earth is on the path to destruction and someone has to figure out how to defeat those engineering the destruction. Some force has to be defeated and someone has to do the defeating.

But that’s not what happens here. God stops the flood. It is the agent of destruction, God, who limits the destruction. The covenant between God and Noah, which we read earlier this morning, is a covenant that goes one-way. There is nothing in the covenant that Noah promises, God is the only one who speaks in this covenant. God promises never to do anything like this again. Never again will water cover the earth, separating humans and animals from one another. Never again, God declares, will I try to obliterate all of creation. Genesis records that God says in his heart that never again will I destroy every living creature as I did in the flood. Annihilation is off the table.

His name is Gary, and the more you get to know Gary, the more you begin to think that annihilation isn’t such a bad option. I met Gary in a large class at seminary, a class of about 140 people. If you surveyed the remaining 139, my guess is that at least 135 wouldn’t disagree with the sentiment. Gary suffers from high levels of anxiety, which leads him to act in ways that make you want to smack him. Gary argues with professors. Gary blasts other students in his class. Gary violates confidentiality. Gary is the student, and somebody’s parishioner, from hell. We’ve all got people like Gary in our lives, some of us have more than one of them I imagine, and they remind us that the fact that God takes annihilation off the table is no small thing.

This is why God’s covenant with Noah, and by extension us, is so astounding. Human nature, our propensity for sinfulness and wickedness, does not change after the flood. Our genetic makeup, our tendencies, our very way of life remain just as messed up, just as twisted, just as life-destroying and death-inducing as they were before. God does not promise not to annihilate humanity again because God has assurance that we will not act as horribly as we did before. No, as you all well know, we act just as stupid, just as sinfully, just as wickedly as those before us. You want wickedness, we’re your people. You want lying, we can do that. Cheating, the name Alex Rodriguez mean anything to you? Stealing – pick a CEO. Murder, watch the news. God limit’s God’s option, takes annihilation off the table, despite who God knows we are and despite what God knows we will do. God knows just who we are and just what trouble we will get into, and in this covenant, commits to be in relationship with us in spite of all that.

Because by taking annihilation off the table, God is committing to remaining in relationship with us. Relationships, as we all know, are incredibly hard work. To be in relationship with someone is to be committed to that person, regardless of how crazy, how mean, how difficult, and most importantly, regardless of how much they hurt you, damage you, and wrong you. Being in covenant with people, in essence being in relationship with some one, is about being vulnerable, about being open to being hurt and moving forward despite the hurt. By moving beyond annihilation, God has committed to being vulnerable, and all the hard work that this entails. In this covenant God commits to finding a new way to be in relationship, as those of you who are married know the phrase, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, in the good times and the bad times, until death do us part

God, being just, cannot abide or tolerate sin. Our relationship with God requires, even demands, holiness and justice. God is holy and just, and God’s willingness to remain in relationship with us does not mean that God turns the other way and ignores our sin. God will have to find a way to both deal with our sin and remain in relationship with us. As those of you who have been in long-term relationships, whether in a romantic or married relationship, or who have been friends with someone for a long time, know that God is not going to be able to remain unaffected by this commitment. God’s relationship with human beings will not be a smooth one, it will not be one without its share of bumps and bruises, or more appropriately, its beatings and betrayals.

This covenant, this idea, sort of makes you want to ask God if he knows what he is getting into. There are some situations, that you know are good for you, but you aren’t sure about for someone else. A good friend of mine faced a similar situation not too long ago. Josh had been dating his friend Emily for a long time. They met while working in a volunteer program and began dating soon thereafter. They first started dating long distance, but united in Atlanta, where Josh went to seminary and Emily started teaching. One day Josh finally came to his senses and asked Emily to marry him. Emily, in the upset of the Century, said yes. Josh responded the only way he knew how, with one of the best lines ever recorded in an engagement proposal. “As your future husband, I’m thrilled with your decision. As your friend, I have to say that I question your judgment.”

As one on the receiving end of this promise, I’m thrilled. As a human being, I sort of question God’s judgment on this one. By limiting his options, God is committing to something remarkable. Our sin will affect God. Our desire to break our relationship will hurt God. Our madness will malign God. This is not going to end well. No, this will not end well.

Genesis 9:8-17

8 Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, ‘As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.’ God said, ‘This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.’ God said to Noah, ‘This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.’ ^{91011121314151617}

David Brooks and Original Sin

Since when did David Brooks, the conservative voice on the New York Times Editorial Page and one of the smartest columnists in the country, start talking about Original Sin?

Brooks wrote a fascinating column this past week in which he talks about his concern over the stimulus plan and the massive changes that are afoot in the country as a result of the economic crisis. His major concern is not so much in the programs that will be funded by the stimulus and the details of changes to come, but the philosophy behind them.

The debate, Brooks argues, hinges on just how much we can know and just how capable we can be at rapid institutional change. The debate is whether it is even possible to know enough or be competent enough to engineer transformational social change from the West Wing of the White House and the halls of Congress.

While these are debates that so-called conservatives and so-called progressives have been debating for centuries, what is fascinating for me is that this debate goes all the way back to Augustine and to the Garden. If we believe that our minds were warped by the Fall like our bodies and our souls, then our thoughts, our ideas, our motivations are all curved, distorted, and broken as well.

This means that we can never be sure of much, other than that we are flawed and that God is in the process of transformation. This, Brooks would argue and I would agree, requires a serious amount of modesty in estimating just how much we can do and just how effective we can be in government as well as in the church.

Humility and modesty, in both the the government, the church and the world, seems to be the order of the day.

It must be Lent.

You're Fine

Two words, it turns out, can make quite a difference.

On Monday I sat for an hour and a half in front of three people, defending my theology, receiving constructive criticism and trying to remain calm during one of the most important interviews of my life. On Tuesday afternoon I got the word - you're fine. You're fine translated didn't mean that the person across the room was impressed with my attire that would have made a Republican Congressman proud - white dress shirt, red white and blue striped tie, navy blue suit. Instead, it meant that I had passed my interview with the Board of Ordained Ministry.

It hasn't even been a week, but already something feels different. Being commissioned - which is the technical term that means you passed your interviews and will be commissioned as a probationary elder at Annual Conference in June - is a weird thing. I could still do ministry as a licensed local pastor without being commissioned, including serving communion, performing baptisms, marrying folks and burying folks. But there is something a little different, I'm not quite sure what it is.

Maybe it is the church setting me apart for leadership (part of my riveting answer to what is the meaning of ordination in the context of general ministry to the church), maybe its knowing that this is what three years of seminary and a lot of Christian life prepared me for, or maybe its something about the Spirit. I've been thinking a lot about words lately. Preaching every week means you have to come up with a lot of them. I read other authors' words, I hear musicians' words, I put out a lot of words for people myself.

Commissioning is more than words, but the words have power. I have always been one who thought that words were useless without being joined to actions that match them. I still like that idea, but I'm not so sure.

Words still have the power to make a difference. Words still have the power to resonate with something inside of us, to join us to something greater, and to take us somewhere we wouldn't have gone on our own. This, in a sense, is why we perform liturgy together and why we reserve space every Sunday for one person to come out of our congregation and talk to us about God's word.

I don't know all the places I am headed, although its likely somewhere in East Tennessee. I just know that two words have made me think a lot this week. They've made me thing about where I want to go, and more importantly how I want to get there. They've helped me see that I want to learn again how to pray, to help me see that I need to be shaped more by some words than others, to know that lots of people are watching, and that lots of people are invested in me.

You're fine. We're all counting on it.

On Becoming Pastor Dan

I'm not quite sure exactly how it happens, but sometime after getting a degree and sometime before you step into the pulpit, you get a name.

In my case, I get a title in front of my name, and the name I've been going by for my whole life gets shortened. I have, somehow, someway, become Pastor Dan.

As some of my readers know, the last couple months have been a whirlwind. I, like so many other people, lost my job due to financial cutbacks. After a less than faithful response to said news, I really got to work, or more aptly, other people got to work on my behalf. A former professor offered me a job as a teaching assistant. People I barely knew pitched in. The biggest change is that I'm now officially a pastor-in-charge - for the next five months I am the pastor at Underwood United Methodist Church (1671 Howell Mill Road NW, Atlanta, GA if anyone would like to come and see the show!)

Tomorrow will be my second Sunday at Underwood, and its going to be quite the learning experience. I'm starting to learn what it means to preach every Sunday, to grapple with texts on behalf of a congregation, even a congregation of 15. This week I'm going to tackle organizing the office, which looks like a tornado hit it. I file Conference reports. I change the Church sign every week. I organize and plan worship (BDM would be proud I think).

I will return to Tennessee in June, but for the next few months I will be proclaiming the Gospel, serving communion and maybe doing a baptism, and hopefully not doing too many funerals. I'll be figuring out what worship means, I'll be trying to guide us to the valley of Lent and to the triumphant victory of Easter.

It's weird, really. This is what I have spent the last four years of my life planning for, how to lead a congregation of folks trying to hang on to faith in the midst of a community that doesn't seem to think much of it. I'm the preacher. I'm the leader. I'm the one they're going to harass when they're feeling anxious. I'm the one whose sermons they're going to listen to. And ultimately when life becomes rough, I'm going to be the one they come to unload their souls and try to figure out just what difference Jesus makes in all this.

Just call me Pastor Dan.