About Me
Monday, July 25, 2016
This is London!
July 20, 2016
Again, I’m writing from the North
Atlantic with some reflections on time in Europe. For different reasons, the
most enjoyable experiences Beth and I had in Europe were in London and in
Germany. For me, being in London felt like going home.
We spent our week in London in a quirky and delightful flat
in Central London, a few hundred feet from St. Paul’s Cathedral, and at the center
of a one mile radius of important family sites. As many people experience on
similar journey’s, to be in these locations gave me an extraordinary sense of
connectedness to my family and their stories.
Less than one mile north of St. Paul’s is Smithfield, then a
small village outside London. My ancestor, Roger Williams, was born in
Smithfield, and christened (note that he was later rebaptized) at St. Sepulchre
church there. He studied at Charterhouse School, an elite school still in
existence in Smithfield.
North of Smithfield is St. Pancras Old Church, now next door
to St. Pancras International Train Station, which boasts Christian worship
going back 1700 years, and where my ancestor, Francis Marbury, is listed among
the vicars. He is Anne Hutchinson’s father. He was also tried at the old St.
Paul’s (the current Christopher Wren masterpiece was built following the great
fire of London in 1666), and imprisoned at Marshallsea Prison (which is no
longer standing), south of the Thames, but still within walking distance from
of lodgings.
West of our “home” near St. Paul’s about one mile is
Westminster Hall at the Houses of Parliament, first built by the son of William
the Conqueror about one thousand years ago. At the time of Roger Williams,
Westminster Hall would have been the judicial center of England, and it is here
that Williams spent much time in his apprenticeship to the great jurist Edward
Coke. Finally, in the other direction from our lodgings is the Tower of London,
which was expanded by Edward I, the closest monarch of England I can identify
as an ancestor.
To be sure, all these ancestors are complicated people, but
they are mine, and their story is my story, and it was thrilling for me to
connect with places that shaped their lives, and mine.
Water, Water, Everywhere
July 20, 2016
I’m writing on the Queen Mary 2, somewhere in the North
Atlantic. We’ve been at sea three nights and are approaching the halfway point
in our crossing. The captain and crew are quick to point out that this is not a
cruise but a crossing, a form of conveyance, and that the ship is an ocean
liner and not a cruise ship. In fact, the QM2 boasts being the largest ocean
liner in human history, designed to cross the Atlantic in four days, though we
are taking seven.
The sabbatical purpose of this crossing has several
purposes. One is retracing the journeys of our ancestors who crossed this ocean
under somewhat different circumstances. Another is the chance for Beth and me
to have some quiet time together after an intense stretch of family travel
throughout Europe. The third purpose relates to the sabbatical theme of water
and the refreshment it brings to my soul.
Water is plentiful, the nearest land being 1,000 miles away.
It is stunning and I find it refreshing, though I am looking forward to seeing
land (perhaps it will be clear and we will see Newfoundland tomorrow). It also
gives me a sense of what my ancestors endured, traveling on tiny floating
islands that could sink and be tossed and turned by the rolling sea for weeks
at a time. They were confined in tiny communities on ships that felt like
prisons. Beth and I are enjoying time together, but the ship is large enough,
and the activities varied enough, that we can spend time apart and meet new
friends. (I met a delightful retired couple at breakfast. They are Baptists
from Australia, engaged in lay ministry through a church that might have a home
among Mennonites.)
The sabbatical schedule has been full and intense these week
but will ease up now, and afford time for writing. College Mennonite seems a
very long way indeed, and I miss you all. I plan to use this time at sea to do
some reflective writing on the experiences of the last couple of months.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Church in the City
Retired pastor and writer Eugene H. Peterson reports that
when he first went he was sent by the Presbyterian church to plant a
congregation in Maryland outside of Baltimore he discovered nothing but corn
fields. Those corn fields became houses and streets and stored and schools
called suburbia. Inevitably some of the people who moved into those houses went
looking for a church, and Peterson’s church grew and became a living faith
community.
There is nothing particularly remarkable about this story
with the exception of the event of suburbia itself. The post war era was a time
of building: roads, cars, sewer systems, towns, utility wiring and pipes. The
last half of the 20th century brought a taxpayer subsidized
lifestyle revolution, requiring an unprecedented amount of wiring and piping
and pavement per capita.
Churches adapted. New churches were planted for these new
suburban communities, and others followed their parishioners out of established
urban neighborhoods, abandoning old church buildings to newcomers. The suburban
megachurch model was born as well.
For many years tropes like affluent suburbs and impoverished
inner city had traction and contained some truth. The events in Ferguson,
Missouri, this summer reveal that suburbs are quite a complex social reality in
and of themselves. And some of the wealthiest, expensive and most sought after
zip codes are in what we once would have called inner city.
The geography of our lives, and of the church, is changing.
No longer can we look for the next corn field to be turned into a suburban town
and plant a church there waiting for people to come. We can no longer afford
the taxpayer subsidized infrastructure demanded by suburban development. And
the people who might live in those houses can’t afford to heat, cool, and care
for that much space. Furthermore, the generation coming into their own today,
the 80 million strong millennials, prefers walking, biking and public
transportation to cars, has fewer children, and would rather live in smaller housing
units than sprawling suburban McMansions with big yards. In short, they prefer
the city and the lifestyle of spending time, not at home, but in cafes, bars,
restaurants, parks, theaters and concert venues. And perhaps churches.
Whether you find this development hopeful or not, it does
have precedent in the church, even in the early church. Christianity was an
urban movement in its earliest days. In the ancient cities of the Roman empire
people lived in tight quarters, with the exception of the very few wealthy, and
spent most of their time in the marketplace and other settings where they
rubbed shoulders with other people. Public space was critical to the growth of
the early church. This social activity, not the building of new subdivisions,
was the infrastructure through which the Holy Spirit worked to grow the church.
Today the most exciting new church developments (which are
more likely to be new campuses of existing churches) are in cities and are
driven by urban social energy. Many such churches are adept at using social
media and technology for bringing people together or telling their story but
the energy is tied to an urban sense of place.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Congregations as the Center of Mission, Part 3
I began a five-year tenure working with short-term mission
programs at Mennonite Board of Missions in 1994. At the time, MBM was in the
middle of a project called Cana Venture, an effort to adapt to the shifting terrain
of denominational missions. The behavior of church members was changing relative
to their congregations and to church wide agencies.
After doing intensive research and study, MBM concluded that
congregations and church members were no long interested in paying experts to
do mission on their behalf. They wanted to be involved directly. MBM understood
that its value was not in “doing” mission on behalf of the church, but linking
congregations with other congregations doing mission around the world.
Partnership became the operative word around the office. When the two largest
Mennonite bodies merged in 2001, the new combined mission agency called itself
Mennonite Mission Network, emphasizing this networking aspect of bringing
people together to do mission rather than doing it on their behalf. Properly speaking then, Mennonite Mission Network is not the mission agency for Mennonite Church USA. Congregations are the agents for mission. Mission agency happens at the congregational level.
In 2006, Mennonite Church USA learned that it was
over-structured for its size, with too much bureaucracy and an oversized
budget. The phrase “congregations are the center for mission” comes from
Mennonite Church USA itself. Churchwide leaders recognize that our future
health and vitality will rely on congregations engaging directly in mission,
rather than looking to conference and denominational institutions to provide
the impetus.
Marty Lehman internalized this value, moving from her position as
Associate Executive Director for Churchwide Operations, to Administrative
Pastor here at College Mennonite, taking a significant pay cut to do so. For
Marty this was a move to the center, where the action and excitement is, and
where she could have the biggest impact for the mission of Mennonite Church
USA.
Mennonite Disaster Service has excelled in this work of
linking congregations in mission. The work of several congregations here in the
Goshen area building homes locally, in Minnesota and in New Orleans, partnering
with local churches in each case is an exciting way to work, and puts the
accent on relationships.
Increasingly, it is congregations that are planting churches
or adding sites as they become multi-site congregations, and not conferences or
churchwide agencies. In our interconnected world, congregations are using
direct personal links to build relationships with others around the world,
working together in mission.
College Mennonite Church is one of the largest and most
resource rich congregations in Mennonite Church USA. We have both an exciting
opportunity and an obligation to grow as a center for mission. If we don’t do
it, who will? Here we are Lord, send us!
Thursday, July 10, 2014
The End of the Suburbs?
Well known pastor-author Eugene Peterson writes about starting a Presbyterian church in the midst of cornfields outside Baltimore. Eventually those cornfields became suburbia and the church grew to about 300 souls.
Twenty or so years ago a group of United Methodist Churches in Elkhart banded together, closing their doors in the city, to build a new church in the suburbs at County Road 17 and US Route 20. At the time a group of Mennonite churches in Elkhart reaffirmed their commitment to the city, and their resolve not to abandon it for the suburbs. I remember feeling proud to be a Mennonite at the time: we weren't going to leave the city for the dreary suburbs. In retrospect, I remember those days with a sense of shame.
Whatever we think about it, for more than half a century most Americans have lived in suburbia. It has been our missional context, and for whatever reason, with few exceptions, we have chosen not to be missionaries to our own country's dominant culture, even as we sent missionaries all over the world. Tragically, we Mennonites missed an opportunity for mission. We had something to offer suburban souls.
Leigh Gallagher observes in her recent book, The End of the Suburbs: Where the American Dream is Moving, signs that the age of suburbia is coming to an end. Most Americans still live in suburbs, but the cultural trends are moving the other direction. Here are some of Gallagher's observations. In 2011, for the first time in 100 years, urban population growth outpaced suburban growth. We can no longer afford low density suburbs, which require a disproportionate amount of government spending for infrastructure. We can no longer afford the time and energy of longer commutes. Members of the millenial generation hate the suburbs, and this group is bigger than the baby boom generation. Seventy-seven percent of them prefer to live in urban areas. The suburban lifestyle is automobile oriented (heavily subsidized by public funds for highways), milleniels prefer to walk. In 1980, 66 percent of 17 year-olds had a drivers license, twenty years later it was down 47 percent. Gallagher's introduction is worth the read if you can get a hold of a library copy.
The upshot is millenials want higher density walkable neighborhoods like downtown Goshen and nearby neighborhoods. They want smaller houses closer to shopping, coffee shops and restaurants. Communities like Goshen with our vibrant, revitalized downtown, are precisely the sorts of places studies show millenials like. When they move into their own homes en masse, housing arrangements locally and nationally are likely to change.
This strikes me as a call to mission for the church. Now that the end of the suburbs may be upon us, I'm excited about what comes next, and the opportunities it holds for the church.
Twenty or so years ago a group of United Methodist Churches in Elkhart banded together, closing their doors in the city, to build a new church in the suburbs at County Road 17 and US Route 20. At the time a group of Mennonite churches in Elkhart reaffirmed their commitment to the city, and their resolve not to abandon it for the suburbs. I remember feeling proud to be a Mennonite at the time: we weren't going to leave the city for the dreary suburbs. In retrospect, I remember those days with a sense of shame.
Whatever we think about it, for more than half a century most Americans have lived in suburbia. It has been our missional context, and for whatever reason, with few exceptions, we have chosen not to be missionaries to our own country's dominant culture, even as we sent missionaries all over the world. Tragically, we Mennonites missed an opportunity for mission. We had something to offer suburban souls.
Leigh Gallagher observes in her recent book, The End of the Suburbs: Where the American Dream is Moving, signs that the age of suburbia is coming to an end. Most Americans still live in suburbs, but the cultural trends are moving the other direction. Here are some of Gallagher's observations. In 2011, for the first time in 100 years, urban population growth outpaced suburban growth. We can no longer afford low density suburbs, which require a disproportionate amount of government spending for infrastructure. We can no longer afford the time and energy of longer commutes. Members of the millenial generation hate the suburbs, and this group is bigger than the baby boom generation. Seventy-seven percent of them prefer to live in urban areas. The suburban lifestyle is automobile oriented (heavily subsidized by public funds for highways), milleniels prefer to walk. In 1980, 66 percent of 17 year-olds had a drivers license, twenty years later it was down 47 percent. Gallagher's introduction is worth the read if you can get a hold of a library copy.
The upshot is millenials want higher density walkable neighborhoods like downtown Goshen and nearby neighborhoods. They want smaller houses closer to shopping, coffee shops and restaurants. Communities like Goshen with our vibrant, revitalized downtown, are precisely the sorts of places studies show millenials like. When they move into their own homes en masse, housing arrangements locally and nationally are likely to change.
This strikes me as a call to mission for the church. Now that the end of the suburbs may be upon us, I'm excited about what comes next, and the opportunities it holds for the church.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Congregations as the Center of Mission, Part 2
David Brooks had this piece in the New York Times this morning, observing the significance of peer to peer economic transactions, such as Uber and Airbnb. Both these services rely on people connecting with each other with the minimal assistance of a broker, in these cases a simply smartphone application.
This is yet another instance of social and economic structures bypassing brokers. This phenomenon is increasingly the norm in the church world as well, including here at College Mennonite Church. We manage our own relationships with outside parties, whether it be for purposes of mission and outreach, or resourcing for ministry.
Examples include sister church relationships, connections with local ministries here in Goshen, Vacation Bible School, flood relief for Indonesia, large churches seeking resources together, and support for international mission where we have a personal link. Churches of all types are bypassing brokers like conferences (known in churchy lingo as middle judicatories), mission agencies, and denominational resourcing, when it makes sense to do so. It isn't that we don't like these brokers, or that they haven't done good work in the pasy, but why add another layer of communication and bureaucracy when you don't need to?
I am particularly interested in the implications this has for leadership in the church. For much of the twentieth century, Christians looked to churchwide structures for leadership in mission, ministry, and articulating vision. Now we are at a time when congregations are the leaders. If Mennonites are going to be effective in mission, outreach, ministry and articulating vision, the energy and vitality will have to come from congregations.
This makes sense for Mennonites, with a long history of congregational polity. This polity will look different in the coming decades than it has in the era of churchwide institution building. As a pastor, I am excited about what is going to happen in and through congregations in the years ahead.
This is yet another instance of social and economic structures bypassing brokers. This phenomenon is increasingly the norm in the church world as well, including here at College Mennonite Church. We manage our own relationships with outside parties, whether it be for purposes of mission and outreach, or resourcing for ministry.
Examples include sister church relationships, connections with local ministries here in Goshen, Vacation Bible School, flood relief for Indonesia, large churches seeking resources together, and support for international mission where we have a personal link. Churches of all types are bypassing brokers like conferences (known in churchy lingo as middle judicatories), mission agencies, and denominational resourcing, when it makes sense to do so. It isn't that we don't like these brokers, or that they haven't done good work in the pasy, but why add another layer of communication and bureaucracy when you don't need to?
I am particularly interested in the implications this has for leadership in the church. For much of the twentieth century, Christians looked to churchwide structures for leadership in mission, ministry, and articulating vision. Now we are at a time when congregations are the leaders. If Mennonites are going to be effective in mission, outreach, ministry and articulating vision, the energy and vitality will have to come from congregations.
This makes sense for Mennonites, with a long history of congregational polity. This polity will look different in the coming decades than it has in the era of churchwide institution building. As a pastor, I am excited about what is going to happen in and through congregations in the years ahead.
Marriage Equality and Faith in the News
You may have heard the news last week that a federal judge declared Indiana's ban on gay marriage unconstitutional. Eventually a higher court issues a stay on the ruling until the decision could be appealed. I noticed two responses from clergy or groups of clergy in the media.
In one response a conservative Protestant mourned the decision, suggesting the purpose of the United States Constitution, and the judicial system meant to uphold, existed to defend Christian values. Because newspaper quotes can be misleading or inaccurate at times, I will leave the name and church of the pastor out of this post. Growing up in a secular part of the country I always managed to be shocked by this brand of God-and-country-ism. Don't they teach high school civics in Indiana? Furthermore, as a Mennonite pastor, the idea that the state should serve the bidding of a particular religion, or worse, tell churches how to practice their faith.
Another response came from the Catholic Bishops of Indiana. The bishops are aware of the establishment clause in the U.S. Constitution, and, rather than assume the federal government existed to do its bidding, they appealed to the common good, arguing that it is good for society as a whole for marriage to be limited to one man and one woman for life. This, of course, raises the bar for the bishops, requiring them to make a case for just how such a limitation actually benefits society as a whole. That's leads to a worthwhile conversation, and one in which a Mennonite pastor might actually want to participate.
The other contrast between the bishops statement and the kinds of assertions made by Protestants of all stripes is that they make no appeal to scripture. They appeal to law and nature, expanding the conversation beyond those of Christian faith. But they also appeal to the authority of the church and to church teaching through the ages. This is not to say they do not value scripture, but that interpretation of scripture happens in and through an historic community which is authorized to discern its meaning.
Oddly, this latter position makes change both harder and easier. It's harder in that change is up against tradition, easier in the sense that the church has authority to change, and is not bound to do things the ways things have always been done. This model has strengths and weaknesses, but I find it helpful as I reflect on how we deal with controversial issues and the possibility of change as Mennonites.
In one response a conservative Protestant mourned the decision, suggesting the purpose of the United States Constitution, and the judicial system meant to uphold, existed to defend Christian values. Because newspaper quotes can be misleading or inaccurate at times, I will leave the name and church of the pastor out of this post. Growing up in a secular part of the country I always managed to be shocked by this brand of God-and-country-ism. Don't they teach high school civics in Indiana? Furthermore, as a Mennonite pastor, the idea that the state should serve the bidding of a particular religion, or worse, tell churches how to practice their faith.
Another response came from the Catholic Bishops of Indiana. The bishops are aware of the establishment clause in the U.S. Constitution, and, rather than assume the federal government existed to do its bidding, they appealed to the common good, arguing that it is good for society as a whole for marriage to be limited to one man and one woman for life. This, of course, raises the bar for the bishops, requiring them to make a case for just how such a limitation actually benefits society as a whole. That's leads to a worthwhile conversation, and one in which a Mennonite pastor might actually want to participate.
The other contrast between the bishops statement and the kinds of assertions made by Protestants of all stripes is that they make no appeal to scripture. They appeal to law and nature, expanding the conversation beyond those of Christian faith. But they also appeal to the authority of the church and to church teaching through the ages. This is not to say they do not value scripture, but that interpretation of scripture happens in and through an historic community which is authorized to discern its meaning.
Oddly, this latter position makes change both harder and easier. It's harder in that change is up against tradition, easier in the sense that the church has authority to change, and is not bound to do things the ways things have always been done. This model has strengths and weaknesses, but I find it helpful as I reflect on how we deal with controversial issues and the possibility of change as Mennonites.
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