1ChurchVoice

Cry out

In yesterday’s New York Times, Nicholas Kristof tells the story of Mukhtaran Bibi.  It is a story we all need to read, and we need to respond.  Ms. Mukhtaran is Pakistani woman who endured brutality and has risen from it to start schools and a shelter for abused women.  She is fighting back against the forces of oppression.

Now the Pakistan government is abusing her further, for daring to speak out.

How do we help this woman? 

A long obediance

I am not a fan of evangelistic crusades and I have never been much of a fan of Bily Graham.  But this morning’s New York Times has an interview with him that I found both touching and inspiring.  He seems to have spent his life following God, as best he knows how and, at age 86, stills seems to be engaging the life of faith with intensity and purpose.  I hope that I can follow that example.

Mr. Graham said that with each health setback, "I've rejoiced in all of it." The Lord, he said, was making it possible for him to relate to other suffering people.

The other night he said he caught an old clip of himself being interviewed on "Larry King Live." "I looked at myself, it was only six or seven years ago, but I looked so vigorous," he said. "And I thought to myself, how different things were to me then than they are now."

Where Are We?

This morning I read an article in the New York Times, about a crisis center in Cancun, Mexico, and the woman who runs it, Lidia Cacho.  According to this article, violence against women is an epidemic in Mexico, and Ms. Cacho’s center is one of the few safe places for women and children to hide.  But the women she protects are often the wives of “drug traffickers and corrupt security agents”.  So she has been endured threats and violence and almost nonexistent police protection. 

The last line of the story struck me hard: 

“I have a very clear perspective on this work," she said. "We are living in a time when impunity permeates everything. We must either fight with everything we have, even our lives, or we have to leave this work. There's no middle ground.

"So when people ask me if I am willing to lose my life, I tell them I am not willing to lose my life. But I am willing to give it."

It’s hard to imagine a more direct call to action for the Christian church.

Passion Sunday

Our fourth Dwelling Place is this Sunday night, and we spent a long time in the planning meeting figuring out how to handle Palm Sunday.  We are not meeting between Palm Sunday and Easter, so we decided to focus on the events of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, instead of staying with the Palm emphasis. 

The coffeehouse we’re using for worship has a very large labyrinth on it’s property.  At night it’s lighted dramatically with lights in the trees.  Our thought was to end worship by going into the garden, for silent, personal journeys through the labyrinth.  To enhance the drama, we’re handing out lighted candles to people as they walk out into the garden.  When the get to the middle of the labyrinth, they will extinguish the candles.  I hope, and pray, that the people who come will have the chance to think about and “taste” the events of that week.  I hope that for myself, as well.

the contrasts

We had the second Dwelling Place (of our second season) on Sunday night.  It was a wonderful time of singing, prayer, scripture, and teaching. 

My continued participation in my “home church” means that on Sundays, I attend two worship services in the morning, then Dwelling Place in the evening.  This past Sunday there was a vivid illustration of the contrasts between these two types of worship experience for me.  In the morning, the senior pastor read two verses of scripture, one from the old testament and one from an epistle.  Not two chapters, but two verses. 

In the evening, at Dwelling Place, we read all of the scripture from the lectionary readings for the third Sunday in Lent.  It was a lot of scripture:  1 Samuel 16:1–13, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:8–14, and John 9:1–41.  Actually, we heard Psalm 23 three times:  once in a reading, once in an original song, and once from the pastor, as part of the teaching/preaching.  I was touched deeply by the scripture.  It felt like I was hearing a wonderful story that had profound implications for my life and the lives of the people around me.  And I wasn’t just hearing a little bit of it; I was getting a full portion. 

The difference between those two approaches to scripture may explain most simply why I am so motivated to be part of worship at Dwelling Place right now. 

Dwelling . . . again

Dwelling Place held our first gathering of the 2005 tonight.  It was the first time we’ve been together for worship since 20 November 2004.  It felt really wonderful, even though there were only a few of us gathered together.  The weather was really beautiful:  blue skies, a light wind, and temperatures that climbed to the high 60s in the afternoon, then fell to the 50s in the evening.  The Coffeehouse is located in a unique location:  it’s in the absolute middle of Houston, but it’s totally quiet and peaceful.  We left the doors open during worship, and it was quiet and calm. 

Tonight’s worship gathering started about 6:20 and lasted until about 7:25.  We sang some original songs (“In the Beginning”, “Dwelling Place”) and some ancient hymns (“All Creatures of Our God and King”, “O Sacred Head Now Wounded”).  We heard a lot of scripture:  all of the readings for this Sunday in the lectionary got read.  Perhaps the highlight of the evening for me was the reading of John 4:5–42, the story of the woman at the well.  Kacey read it from “The Message” and it took a good long time to read 37 verses.  Somewhere in the middle of that reading, I became aware that this was a “worship moment”, when I could be fully immersed in The Story. 

Part of me felt disappointed with the attendance tonight, but a larger part of me just enjoyed the worship.  We took God seriously, and we worshiped thoughtfully and intentionally.  I can’t say we were “successful”, but we worshiped. 

what is a pastor?

One issue still feels like it will get more attention in the days and weeks to come:  the role of the pastor.  We don’t have a pastor now.  Even when we were in our six-week trial last fall, the pastors only came in to teach and bless the communion elements.  They weren’t really leaders or shepherds or members of our community.  It felt, to them and to us, like they were hired guns.

Now that we’re moving forward in a new place, we’re trying to figure our what we need.  First, we need someone to teach us.  I think we’re fundamentally Presbyterian enough to want that person to be well educated in scripture and theology.  But we’re really wrestling with what else we want that person to be.  Do they need to be charismatic and winsome, to bring people in?  Do they need to “lead” us, organizationally and spiritually? 

I personally think we’re trying to create a new (or rediscover an old) model of what a pastor should be.  In the modern megachurch the pastor has become superhero:  charismatic speaker, effective manager, personal counselor, shining example of faith, and flawless example of humanity.  Of course, no person not named Jesus Christ could be all those things, which means unrealistic expectations, unmet needs, and incredible pressure on the pastor.  It seems unhealthy all the way around.  My sense is that the emerging church will want pastors who are fellow travelers, fellow strugglers, fellow saints.  Our pastors will have gifts, just like the people in the church have gifts, and they’ll share those gifts freely. 

Beyond that, my crystal ball becomes cloudy.  Will there be full-time clergy, or just tent makers, or both?  Will preachers be seminary-trained, or just wise folks who are called by the community to teach, or some combination?  How will we treat people gifted in preaching differently than people gifted in accounting or video production or music?  I think we have much to learn and discover. 

the new home

Yesterday the Dwelling Place planning team met for the first time in our new home, the Coffeehouse.  It’s a beautiful, modest place in the heart of Houston.  Yesterday morning, it felt like an oasis.  For almost two hours, we walked around it, thinking about logistics and talking about the various stations we want to incorporate in worship. 

I felt a really basic sense of calm and peace and joy about being there and actively planning worship again.  Our team worked out several potentially contentious issues having to do with money and scheduling.  It cleared the way to think about how to create a worship gathering.  And that felt like blessing.

now, to worship

We received word on Saturday that we’ve been “approved” by the powers-that-be at St. Luke’s UMC to use the Coffeehouse for Dwelling Place worship between now and Easter.  (Apparently, the powers are also inclined to let us use it after Easter, but they reasonably want a checkpoint, to make sure we’re not slaughtering goats over the espresso machine). 

With that permission, we now face the challenge (and the delight) of actually planning worship.  I’m particularly excited that we get to start worshiping again during Lent.   Here’s what I wrote to the planning team members:

For me, Lent is the most meaningful section of the church calendar.  It’s a time when we think about our own mortality and failures, and about the abundance of God’s grace.  It seems to me that it’s a dark season, getting progressively darker though Good Friday, when we remember Jesus’ death on the cross.  And then Easter comes with blinding, spectacular light.  We are reminded, again, of what resurrection means for us.

But we prepare for the light of Easter in the darkness of Lent.  How can we provide opportunities for worship this season that will allow us and the people who come to Dwelling Place to experience Lent deeply?

What a joy it is to even think about such questions! 

moving on

I think I’ve written as much as I need to, at least right now, about the reasons that emerging worship is getting resistance from large, mainline congregations and denominations.  The truth is that none of the reasons I have written about so far stands alone.  I suspect that every congregation which faces this issues deals with all of the reasons for resistance.  Individually, any one source of resistance might be overcome.  Added together, and it’s hard to move forward.

So I’m going to stop dwelling, for the moment, on the resistance.  Instead, I’d like to start thinking (and maybe writing) about ways that emergent Christians can both honor our heritage and be true to the worship (and church) we are called to live in 2005.  That’s a tricky mix, and I’m not sure it’s possible in this fallen world.  But Jesus reached out to the world beyond the temple, and never abandoned the church leadership.  I think we are called to the same work.