Sermon: The complicated life with an iPhone

The cell phone turned 40 years old this month.  40! 

How many cell phones have you owned?  Actually count them.  I’m at 5. 

How many of you have never owned a cell phone?  Just one?  Two?  Three?  Four?  Five?  Six?  Seven?  Anybody more than 10?

So, here’s a video that shows a pivotal moment in history of the cell phone.

The price of a phone in a bag in 1989 is the same price as an iPhone 5 today.  We’ve come a long ways.

So far, that we actually don’t even need paper anymore.  I can go to a meeting with simply my iPhone and take down all the notes I need. 

I was taking a course at CMU last year, and the guy in front of me was pumped that he didn’t have to use any paper the entire course.

In front of him was a MacBook Pro, an iPad, and his iPhone.  As the prof talked, he typed his notes, and if he needed to draw any pictures or graphs, he did it with his iPad and then imported the drawing to his computer, all the while accepting my friend request on Facebook.  During class. Remarkably efficient individual.  All while saving some trees.

Also in my class was a man named Shadrach from the Democratic Republic of Congo.  He was studying Peace and Conflict Transformation Studies at CMU. 

During one of our breaks, I asked him some questions.

How long have you been in Winnipeg? 

2 years.

Are you here by yourself? 

No, between my wife, kids, siblings, there are 11 of us.

Eleven!  Wow.  That’s a lot.  What brought you to Winnipeg?

            We are refugees.

Oh. 

            Yes.  My family has lived in the same village for generations.  We had to flee because the militia would come one month and then the next month the other militia would come and they kept going back and forth.

Why would they do that?

            They want the control the mines.  They want the minerals underneath us.

I felt sick to my stomach.  I knew what he was talking about.  It was in my pocket.  I asked:  “How is it going now?  Are they still fighting?” 

            “Yes.  More people had to flee.  We are currently trying to call home to see who is alive and where they are.”

Here is a video giving a brief synopsis of conflict minerals in the DRC,

My iPhone.   You iPod touch.  You Samsung GS3.  You SLR camera.  That projector in church. All our computers.  Our church’s photocopier.

Now, this gets complicated, doesn’t it?

I’m going to venture to say that we need technology in our lives.  I love my iPhone.  I love our cameras.  I love my laptop, even though it’s only a Dell and not a Mac.  I love going for runs with a little iPod as opposed to a big walkman like they did 30 years ago.  I don’t really wish we still had phone-in-a-bags or Zack Morris cell phones.

And this isn’t even considering the effects of the over 100 million cell phones a year that end up in landfills and all the poisonous metals that leech into the ground water.

But what do we do?

It’s a good thing Jesus told a parable about the complicated life with an iPhone.

We read the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, and how Lazarus was ignored on Earth by the rich man…. so ignored that even the dogs licked his wounds.  But then when they died the poor man ended up in heaven and the rich man in hell. 

There is so much going on in this parable, and all of what the Bible says and doesn’t say about hell is brewing in my head in the form of a 3 week sermon series, but I’ll start with a toe dipping into this with some blatant plagiarism from a great book that is banned from many churches, Love Wins.

Note what it is the man in hell wants:  he wants Lazarus to get him water. 

When you get someone water, you’re serving them. 

The rich man wants Lazarus to serve him.

In their previous life, the rich man saw himself as better than Lazarus, and now, in hell, the rich man STILL sees himself as above Lazarus.   

It’s no wonder Abraham says there’s a chasm that can’t be crossed.  The chasm is the rich man’s heart!  It hasn’t changed, even in death and torment and agony.  He still thinks he’s better.

The gospel Jesus spreads in the book of Luke has as one of its main themes that Jesus brings a social revolution, in which the previous systems and hierarchies of clean and unclean,  sinner and saved, and up and sown don’t mean what they used to. God is doing a new work through Jesus, calling all people to human solidarity.  Everybody is a brother, a sister.  Equals, children of the God who shows no favouritism. 

To reject this new social order was to reject Jesus, the very movement of God in flesh and blood. 

Jesus teaches again and again that the gospel is about a death that leads to life.  It’s a pattern, a truth, a reality that comes from losing your life and then finding it.  This rich man Jesus tells us about hasn’t yet figured that out.  He’s still clinging to his ego, his status, his pride – he’s unable to let go of the world he’s constructed, which puts him on the top and Lazarus on the bottom, the world in which Lazarus is serving HIM.

He’s dead, but he hasn’t died.

He’s in Hades, but he still hasn’t died the kid of death that actually brings life.

He’s alive in death, but in profound torment, because he’s living with the realities of not properly dying the kind of death that actually leads a person to the only kind of life that’s worth living.

Or another way to look at it…

He fails to love his neighbour.

In fact, he ignores his neighbour, who spends each day outside his gate begging for food, of which the rich man has plenty. It’s a story about individual sin, but that individual sin leads directly to very real suffering at a societal level.  If enough rich men treated enough Lazaruses outside their gates like that, that could conceivably lead to a widening gap between the rich and the poor.

Imagine.

A widening gap between the rich and poor.  Where have we seen that before?  I can probably pull up a video on my iPhone 5 connecting my iPhone 5 to the hell that is the Democratic Republic of Congo.  If you’re on twitter, you’d write this:  #ironic.

My phone leads to hell.  On Earth.  As we speak.

Many people in our world have only ever heard hell talked about as the place reserved for those who are “out”, who don’t believe, who haven’t joined the church.  Christians talking about people who aren’t Christians going to hell when they die because they aren’t… Christians.  People who don’t believe the right things.

But in reading all of the passages in which Jesus uses the word “hell”, what is so striking is that people believing the right or wrongs things isn’t his point.  He’s often not talking about “beliefs” as we think of them – he’s talking about anger and lust and indifference.  He’s talking about the state of his listeners’ hearts, about how they conduct themselves, how they interact with their neighbours, about the kind of effect they will have on the world. 

So, do we care that our cell phones are creating hell in our world? 

So, it’s not a perfect solution, but here’s my response to the blood in my cell phone.

1)      I have written a letter to Apple.  And Dell.  And LG.  And Sharp.  And Canon.  And JVC.  And Sony.  And every other electronics company in my house.  I ask them to ensure that all the minerals they use are conflict free.  The bad news is that they still have a long ways to go. The good news is that they are getting better.

2)      I do my best to wait as long as possible before buying new stuff.  I was MC’ing a wedding a year ago and pulled out my old flip phone, and from the head table the bride said to me:  Hey Kyle.  1994 called.  They want their cell phone back.  Yes.  Yes they do.  And when the iPhone 6 or 7 or Google Glass come out, I will wait until my iPhone 5 doesn’t work anymore.

3)      Recycle your cell phone.  MTS connect will take them.

Now, you may be thinking that this was a long, waste of time sermon if in the end all you’re supposed to do is write a letter, buy less and recycle your phone.  

But this doesn’t apply only to cell phones.

When I living in Winnipeg a few years ago, I was talking with the former manager of the Ten Thousand Villages in North Kildonan, and we were talking about Fair Trade.  I made the comment “Well, at least there are enough Mennonites in North Kildonan to give you a good base of customers,” and she made this face like “What?” and her response was “Mennonites don’t shop here.  They are too cheap.  In Mennonite world, being thrifty is considered a virtue, a good thing.”  She even told me that at one point she had a Mennonite customer walk in and brag that she could find cheaper prices elsewhere. 

Do we care about the working conditions and education and environment sustainability of coffee farmers when we buy coffee?  Do we buy fair trade coffee?  Even if it’s more expensive?  Are Tim Hortons and Nabob creating hell in our world? 

Do we know where our oil comes from?  Do we know how Hydro dams affect the life of First Nations in Northern Manitoba?  Do we care that composting reduces methane, which is a greenhouse gas that is 72% more powerful than carbon dioxide?  Do we care how far our food travels in the world?  Do we care that North America’s new found love for quinoa has led to an increase in the price of quinoa in South America, in some cases causing riots?

It’s complicated, isn’t it?

I’m sure the chasm between the rich man and Lazarus was complicated too.  That there were layers and layers of conflict and differing dynamics at play.  But, if we take Jesus seriously, we see where indifference can lead us.

As we wander through this complicated life, may we always strive for life.  With everyone and in everything.  May we pray for and work for equality.  For justice.  For safety.  For peace. 

May repent when we need to.  May we lament when we realize how complicit we are in all of this. 

And may we also learn to be gentle on ourselves, to give ourselves some grace as we work as co-creators with God in this beautiful world.

Amen.

– With heavy, heavy plagiarism from Love Wins: A Book about Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived by Rob Bell.

For Lent, I prayed.

As a spiritual discipline for Lent, I work up early to pray.  It was horrible.  It was beautiful.   It was comical.  And I think, somewhere deep inside, it changed me.

I started off each prayer time with centering prayer.  Centering Prayer is a method of silent prayer that prepares us to receive the gift of contemplative prayer, prayer in which we experience God’s presence within us, closer than breathing, closer than thinking, closer than consciousness itself. This method of prayer is both a relationship with God and a discipline to foster that relationship.  (http://www.centeringprayer.com/)  You are supposed to pick a word of invitation for centering prayer, and for all of Lent I used the word Peace.

After centering prayer, I prayed through the Common Prayer Book:  A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals.  Common Prayer is a tapestry of daily prayers inviting faith communities from around the world to pray, sing, and act together.  The book celebrates the best of the Christian tradition and engage with the most pressing issues of our world today.  (www.commonprayer.net)

In the midst of the 40 days of Lent, I slept-in more than I care to admit, was frequently joined by my two year old daughter, my son was born, went mini-viral, accompanied friends through challenging times, went to a youth retreat, got sick, and came to a deep appreciation of the mystery of prayer and its effect on my life.

I also kept a journal.
Day 1 – Really good.  Peaceful.  Quiet.  Really tired by 4 o’clock, so I took a nap. It’s hard to be present to my family when I’m so tired…

Day 2 – My mind is going a mile a minute. “Peace” is my centering prayer word again.  Great youth last night, tons of walking with people through the harder parts of life.  Praying for them all takes a lot of time. Arianna came out of her bed early and blew out my candle. Twice.  So I ended by saying the Lord’s prayer together.

Day 3 – Checked my email beforehand.  More bad news from friends. I cried.  My heart is heavy.  But best centering prayer yet.  I was the least distracted and most at peace and present to in the moment.   Praying for a lot of people went well. I am getting used to waking up early.

Day4 – Sunday. Went to bed at 1am because I was playing some iPad game where I have to make a virus infect the entire world. Oops.  Took my cheat Sunday (Is that a thing?).  Back at it tomorrow.

Day 5 –  My brother and sister-in-law are in labour.  There is a blizzard.  I am a bit distracted. Arianna and Elmo joined me for centering prayer, which became Common Prayer quickly.  She woke up and ran to me excited and gave me a hug. I loved it. We said the Lord’s Prayer together. And then she put Elmo in her mouth and started chewing and shaking him like a dog toy.

Day 6 – Distracted. But a good distracted. At peace. But had to nap again  I love getting hugs in the morning from Arianna.  The pitter-patter of  her running to me is priceless.   At work, Mel encouraged me in my centering prayer.  He said to keep doing it and people will notice.

Day 7 – Epic fail. We went to see my new nephew last night and we all went to bed late. Arianna woke up early and I slept in. So when I went to pray, she came with me.
I gave her the iPad on mute so I could pray without distraction.  From the couch she yelled, “Daddy!  No sound”
Hmmm… What to do… I know!  Earbuds!  I showed her how they worked, and then proceeded to try to put them in her ears while she kicked and screamed and covered her ears screaming “I don’t want to!” Argh.  The rest of my centering prayer time had Cookie Monster in the back doing a science experiment seeing if underpants float. (In your best Cookie Monster voice) “Call national news! They do!”

Day 8 – Much better. No Arianna.  Peace filled distractions.

Day 9 – I hit snooze three times. Crap. “Arianna, do you want to go back to bed?”  “No!  I’m awake now!” Considering she was hovering around the candle again, prayer went remarkably well. Tired though.  A lot of people to pray for at the end. Good distractions.

Day 10 – Not much to report.  Arianna had her stuffed Elmo was clapping during prayer time. But I liked it. Arianna ran and hugged me. Not sure if I’m more present to anyone throughout the day, including God, but I am coming to treasure my mornings by myself.
Near the end Arianna wanted raisins. I got up from my prayer corner (the kitchen table) to go look for them.  I couldn’t find them, and when I turned to offer her goldfish crackers, she smiled as told me she had blown out the candle again. I am seeing a pattern here.

Day 11 –  Sunday. Technically a cheat day. But I still got up to pray.  I treasured it. Still not very centered at times. But I’m starting to care less about how successful my prayer times are.  Arianna came and played Play-Doh, and put the bucket on her head.  After, I read stories from Conspire Magazine on grace, gratitude and celebration.  I cried.  www.conspiremagazine.com 
Day 12 –   Arianna crawled into bed with Ash, so I got some good silence in.  Once again, my mind is busy.  There was a large community meeting about anti-bullying legislation and religious freedoms last night.  Peace. Peace. Peace.

Day 13 –  The little munchkin woke up before I did.  Ash kicked her out of our room so she could sleep. She was bashing her doll on the table while I tried to pray. Peace.

Day 14 – Ash is in labour. Just did a quick common prayer. There will be a whole lot more peace prayers shortly.

Day 15 –  Labour still. Two nights of no sleep. I’m glad God is graceful.

Day 16 – Zachary Micah Enns Penner was born today. I skipped centering prayer.  When I held him about 4 minutes after he was born, I said, “Zachary, may you do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly.” I wept.

Day 17 – I think.  My life is a blur. No sleep. I don’t even know what day it is. I will start praying again tomorrow.  But I love my kids!

Day 18 – Zach has taken over my bed. Arianna is playing iPad. So I am praying in Zach’s room.
I am so tired. So. So tired. Between the kids and getting a letter to the editor of the local newspaper published about the suicide rate of GLBTQ kids, my mind wanders…
I had a good common prayer… I prayed for a lot of people.

Day 19 – Good.  At 4:30 am, one kid was popping and peeing in the midst of a diaper change while the other one was crawling over me into bed. Waking up early to pray is hard.
Centering prayer was good. Short, but good.  During common prayer, I prayed for the people who are pissing me off.  It was hard. I have to do it again tomorrow.

Day 20 – Good. Tired. I Had to put Arianna’s new climbing harness on for her before she’d let me pray. I prayed for people who are making me mad. I prayed for myself that I’d not say anything stupid.  I prayed that I could love my enemies.
I prayed the following from the Common Prayer book:  As the morning casts off the darkness, Lord, help us to cast aside any feelings of ill will we might harbor against those who have hurt us. Soften our hearts to work toward their conversion and ours. Amen.
Am I willing to be converted?

Day 21 – Better. Peace. Prayed for the people who made me mad… Good. A couple of meetings today that I don’t want to go to.  Help.

Day 22 – Good. I prayed for the people who make me angry. And then I read the Free Press and the front page article about a local church’s sermon on the proposed anti-bullying legislation.  I spit out coffee.

Day 23 – Wow. What a whirlwind. Good centering prayer.   But my mind was going a mile a minute. I declined television interviews yesterday.  I’m glad I did. I prayed first for people who make me angry.  May we work to love everyone and bear fruit.
From my Common Prayer book:  Lord God, when the hungry are fed, the sick healed, the lonely made family, the outcast brought in, the sinner forgiven, the tyrant transformed, and the enemy reconciled, we know your work by the fruit it produces. May our lives bear fruit worthy of your name. Amen.
I am sharing with people that I have spent my mornings praying for the anti-bill 18 crowd.  They are calling me a saint. Ha.  I am not a saint. I just need Jesus to help me love my enemies.

Day 24 – Centering prayer got interrupted by Arianna making space for me in bed for a family “bed in”. What’s the point in centering prayer increasing my awareness if I miss out the beautiful things around me?  So I stopped praying and jumped into bed with my family.
I am finding that during my Common Prayer “pray for others“, my list is getting longer and longer. There is a lot of brokenness in this world. I’ve also told a lot more people this lent that I am praying for them.  I love praying. It centers me, saves me, and makes me more loving. I love praying. I could not have said this 24 days ago.

I officiated at a funeral today. I am aware of the gift he was.  I am more aware of a lot things. The world is on fire… Must walk humbly and be aware of God around me.

Day 25 – Cheat day. Daylight savings time.  I stayed up late finishing my blog post about Bill 18. Wow. Thousands of views. Thousands of shares.  Lord have mercy.
We had a beautiful church service this morning. We shared and cried and prayed.
From my Common Prayer book:  Teresa of Avila, a sixteenth-century Spanish mystic, said, “Let nothing disturb you, nothing dismay you. All things are passing, God never changes. Patient endurance attains all things. God alone suffices.”

Day 26 – I went mini-viral. May people find the hope they need.  Help me be more present to my family today…

Day 27 – Peace. May I not fear, but trust.

Day 28 – Peace. Tired. A lot of people to pray for.  I’m not sure I want to carry this burden. It’s a good one, but I’m finding it a harder to carry than I thought.

From my Common Prayer book:  Lord, you ask us not to fear but to trust. Help our unbelief and grant us faith to stand fast in our love for one another. Amen.

Day 29 – Note to self: Don’t check email before centering prayer.

Day 30 – I didn’t write anything down.

Day 31-32 – We prayed through Common Prayer at our senior youth retreat.  It’s much better with more people. We even did evening prayers and kneeled when we confessed. My life would be better if I did two prayer times a day and not just one.  Maybe next Lent…

Day 33 – Back to two kids and no sleep. I slept through centering prayer.  I started reading Brennan Manning’s Ruthless Trust.  Must trust.  Trust comes through prayer.

Day 34 – Centering prayer was interrupted by baby barf. Awesome.

Day 35 – Easter is 10 days away. How the heck do these 40 days of Lent work anyways?

Both kids up before me.  Zach is in the baby swing. Arianna is jumping on Zach in the baby swing.  And turning the music loud.  Ash is sleeping.  Now Zach is grunting. Now Arinna wants to watch Veggie Tales.  Now Arianna is crying because there’s no Veggie Tales.  Oh well. No prayer today.

Day 36 – I don’t think Sundays count toward the forty days. Oh well. My Lenten prayer discipline will be longer than 40 days.   I end with one word prayers for lots of people.

Day 37 – So tired. Baby.  And Arianna is watching Veggie Tales in the background. So distracted.  Busy day with lots of people… May I be more silent today than most days.

Day 38 – May I be light.  I said weird things to my friend today.  I said, “I need prayer. I like prayer. I’m at peace.”  I am learning to live in this deep Christian spirituality. I pray more. I talk about God and prayer more. It centers me. Weird.

Day 39 – Sick

Day 40-  Very sick.

Day 41 – Still sick. Did Common Prayer.  It felt good to be back on track.

Day 42 – No sleep.  Grunty baby all night. Skipped prayer. Felt it.  But I sang Come and fill my heart with your peace.   I love that song.

Day 43 – I swear I have the grunt-iest baby that ever did grunt. I’m trying to let Ash sleep, but it’s hard to pray when it sounds like there’s a warthog rooting around in your living room. Plus, I should have wiped the table from supper yesterday.  And, I think my morning prayer times need more confession.

And that’s it.  Easter weekend is upon us.  What a crazy Lent.  And I loved it.

My hope and my prayer is that I continue to carve out space to be present to God.  Because when I do, I truly believe that it makes a difference. Maybe both me and the world change for the better.  Or maybe it’s just me being more aware of the sacred spaces already around me.  Either way, I love it.

Crazy.

Lord have mercy.

A Resurrection Story

Mike Yaconelli was one of the pioneers of contemporary youth ministry.  He started a publishing company, wrote books and curriculum and travelled the world speaking to thousands of churches and youth workers and students.

When he was about fifty years old, he read some of Henri Nouwen’s books on spirituality.  And since Mike was kind of eccentric at times, he called up Henri to thank him for his book and asked if he could visit him.

Henri said yes.

Now, a little about Henri’s story.

An academic and widely read Christian author, Henri worked his way up to a teaching post at Harvard.  But while he was there, he wrote:  “Something inside was telling me that my success was putting my soul in danger.”  So he left, and spent the next ten years of his life at a L’Arche community north of Toronto.

L’arche are intentional communities of people with developmental disabilities and those who assist them.  Kind of like enVision, except the clients and support workers all live and worship together.

So Henri Nouwen left Harvard to go to L’Arche, to feed and wash people who had no idea what Harvard was and who had no use for the skills he had worked decades to obtain.

While not easy, his time at L’Arche became a gift.  It taught him what it means to be the beloved of God.

So it’s in this context that Mike visits Henri.

On his first morning, Mike sat in a circle with Henri, other staff and some of the core members at L’Arche.  Mike expressed his initial uneasiness with some of the residents who drooled, made grunting sounds, or rocked back and forth in their chairs.

When Mike was invited to explain the reason for his visit, he told the group about his hurried and harried life, about how he was trapped on a treadmill of speaking engagements, writing deadlines, managements hassles, travel, while also trying to pastor a church, work, and maintain relations with his wife and kids.  Finally, he told them he had come to L’Arche because he knew that the treadmill he was on was the same one Henri had escaped.  He confessed that he wanted to get away from it all, to withdraw from everyone he knew, to start over.  But he painfully admitted that he didn’t know how.  His life was out of control, and he badly needed help.

During a break, Mike was on his way to the washroom when one of the intellectually challenged residents approached him.  Standing uncomfortably close, he suddenly poked Mike in the chest with his finger.  “Busy!”  the man loudly announced, appearing proud of himself for having discerned Mike’s problem.

Mike admitted that instinctively he received the appraisal as a compliment.  “Yes, that’s right,” Mike replied.  “That’s exactly right.  I’m busy.”  After all, in Mike’s world the longer you work and the more exhausted you are, the more status you seem to have.  Nobody wants to be in the shameful position of having to admit they’re so insignificant that they don’t have too much to do.

While he was still acknowledging how busy he was, the man poked Mike in the chest again, this time even harder, and with his voice louder and firmer declared, “Too busy!”  This time Mike felt embarrassed and a bit annoyed.  “You got it, pal.  That’s my problem.”  But deep inside he wanted this harassing person to simply back off and leave him alone.

Until he looked into the man’s eyes and saw them filling with tears.

The resident began to cry in earnest now, and through his sobs he ask a one-word question that Mike insisted had haunted him ever since:  “Why?”

In that watershed moment Mike realized that was the question he come to L’Arche to answer.  Out of the mouth of this innocent, compassionate stranger with intellectual challenges had come deep wisdom.

It was resurrection moment.  At age 50.

Mike says:

“Finally, I accepted my brokenness… I knew I was broken.  I knew I was a sinner.  I knew I continually disappointed God, but I could never accept that part of me.  It was a part of me that embarrassed me.  I continually felt the need to apologize, to run from my weaknesses, to deny who I was and concentrate on who I should be.  I was broken, yes, but I was continually trying to never be broken again – or at least get to the place where I was very seldom broken…”

“At L’Arche, it became very clear to me that I had totally misunderstood the Christian faith.  I came to see that it was in my brokenness, in my powerlessness, in my weakness that Jesus was made strong.  It was the acceptance of my lack of faith that God could give me faith.  It was the embracing of my brokenness that I could identify with others’ brokenness.  It was my role to identify with other’s pain, not relieve it.  Ministry was sharing, not dominating;  understanding, not theologizing;  caring, not fixing…”

He concludes with this:

“There is an anticipation, an electricity about God’s presence in my life that I have never experienced before.  I can only tell you for the first time in my life I can hear Jesus whisper to me every day.  “I love you.  You are beloved.”  And for some strange reason, that seems enough.””

With a ridiculous amount of plagiarism from Breaking the Rules:  Trading Performance for Intimacy with God by Fil Anderson, The Rabbi’s Heartbeat by Brennan Manning and Holy Weakness by Will Braun (Conspire Magazine Spring 2009).

Cardboard Boxes, Lifeboats and Weeping: Thoughts on Palm Sunday and Fear

Luke 19:28-44

My friend, Michael Hryniuk, has his PHD in Christian spirituality and Psychology, or something awesome like that.  And he’s also a phenomenal spiritual director.  And he tells the following the story.

He was teaching a class of masters level students in Washington DC, and the students kept asking during class:  “Is this going to be on the test?  Do I need to know all of this?  Is this for marks?”

And Michael, this deep theologian looking to nurture the souls of his students, got a little tired of this question.

“Why?  Why does it matter?”

“Well, because I need to get a good grade!!”

“Why does that matter?”  Asking university students this question leaves most of them flabbergasted.

“Well, if I don’t get a good grade, I won’t be able to get into the doctorate program I want to!”

“Why does that matter?”

“Well, then I won’t get the good, high paying job that I want!”

“Why does that matter?”

“Then I won’t be able to live the lifestyle I want!”

“Why does that matter?”

“I need to provide my kids.  I need a decent house.  I don’t want to have to eat dog food when I’m retired.”

“Why?  Why?  Why?”

It kept going, until it got here.

“Well, I need good marks because I don’t want to end up living in a cardboard box under a bridge.”

“Well, why does that matter?”

Silence.

“Because I’m afraid that I will be a failure.

If I’m a failure, I’m afraid that nobody will love me.  I’m afraid that I will not be loved.”

_________________________________________

Today we read about the crowds adoring Jesus.  We even re-enacted them.  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.

I think the crowds were afraid.  I think the crowds, in their joyous celebration of Jesus, were deeply, deeply afraid.

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord is taken from Psalm 118.  A psalm that intertwines God’s love enduring forever with cutting down our enemies.

1 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever.

10 All the nations surrounded me,
but in the name of the Lord I cut them down.

25  Lord, save us!
Lord, grant us success!

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.

It was written by a people in the midst of a struggle with very real enemies trying to kill them.  Not pretend enemies like people who vote differently than you or your neighbours because their dog keeps going to the bathroom on your lawn.   Enemies that would actually kill them.  It was written looking to God for strength and leadership, looking for God to fulfill his promise that Israel will be a chosen people, blessed, God’s light to the world.

When the crowds were crying to Jesus “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of Lord,” they were afraid.  The biggest military the world had ever seen had their boots to the throat of Israel.   The biggest empire the world had ever seen was occupying Israel.  The Romans were everywhere.  Where was God?  How can we be blessed with a boot to our throats?  Has God given up on us?

Has God given up on us?  Where are you God?  There’s all this chaos around me, I feel lost.

I’m afraid.

But here comes Jesus!  Lord, save us!  Lord, grant us success!

All their hopes and dreams came out here, looking to Jesus as their king.  He will come and make things right.  He will come and throw off the yoke of oppression.  He will cut down our enemies.  We will be saved!

It’s kind of like being in a lifeboat, and they were going to be saved.

__________________________________

Here, let me explain.  I’ve said it here before, but I think it’s worth saying again:

If there was a lifeboat adrift at sea, and in the lifeboat was a lawyer, a doctor, a child, a stay at home mom and a bartender, and one had to be thrown overboard to save the others, which person would we choose?

It’s one of these terrible exercises where we start judging and classifying others and justifying the choices we make.  Assuming nobody offers themselves, we would immediately look around and start proving why we deserve to be saved.  I’m a mother.  Kids are the future.  I can do this and that and that is why I am important.  Every decision we make becomes a justification for how we live.

We’re all in a lifeboat, deeply afraid that we are the ones who are going to be thrown overboard.

And this is not that far off to how we live our day to day lives.  We come up with all sorts of reasons why we are important and worthy of love.

We do it with our sports.  The Bombers win?  We won!  The Roughriders lose!  Ha!  You lost!

At our best, we compare about things that we do or don’t do.  I’m a good boss.  I’m a good employee.  I’m a good parent.  I’m a good child.  I’m good at making money.  I’m good at spending money.  I’m a good hippy living off the land.

At our worst, we compare things like appearance, skin colour, gender, marital status, intellectual ability, culture, religion.

It’s this entire rat race proving that we are better than everybody else.

Why else do we spend thousands of dollars on clothes?  Why else do we compare how big our TV’s are?  Why do we get so mad when people cut us off?  Why do parents brag about how high their toddlers can count or how little TV they let their kids watch?  Why do we make fun of people when they have old cell phones or put spoilers on their mini-vans?  I am important. I am more important than that person.  I should be saved.  I am worthy of love and life.

Because we are all in a lifeboat, and we are all deeply afraid that we are going to be thrown overboard.

________________________________

The Israelites were afraid of getting thrown out of the lifeboat.  Their identity was wrapped up in one of God choosing them and being blessed, but their experience was something very opposite.  They felt that they were the ones being tossed out of the lifeboat.  Being occupied by a superpower kind of messes with your mind a little bit.

But look!  We’re saved!  We won’t get tossed out of the lifeboat!  Here comes Jesus!  And look!  He’s riding a donkey!  Just like it says in Zechariah!

Zech 9:9

9 Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!
Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
righteous and victorious,
lowly and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

And that text comes right after a prophecy pronouncing God’s judgement on Israel’s enemies.

8 But I will encamp at my temple
to guard it against marauding forces.
Never again will an oppressor overrun my people,
for now I am keeping watch.

They were thinking:  God will punish those who oppose us.  They will pay for all the pain they’ve caused us.  God will drive the Romans to the sea.  God is on our side. We will win.  We will not be thrown out of the lifeboat!

Jesus, the king, is coming, and never again will an oppressor overrun us, for now God is keeping watch.  We no longer have to be afraid.  We will not be thrown out of the lifeboat!

But they were wrong.  They missed it.

Jesus approaches the city of Jerusalem on his donkey.  And he cries.  He weeps for the city.

“If you only know what will bring you peace… You’re can’t see it.  You’re missing it.  You’re going to get destroyed, because you did not recognize God coming to you.”

You’re afraid.  You are looking in the right place, you are looking to God and to me, Jesus, but you are letting your fear rule and are missing the point.

You’re looking for a king, a conqueror, someone who will come and defend you, someone who will stick up for you at the expense of others, someone who will drive your enemies to the sea, someone who will prove that your fears were right.  You’ve missed everything I’ve said and done for the past 3 years.  You are living in fear.  And it will destroy you.

The people worshipping Jesus with palm leaves were living in the house of fear.  And he wept because of it.

_________________________________________

Moving from the house of fear to the house of love starts with this:  Do not be afraid.

We read the phrase:  “Do not be afraid” over 50 times alone in the Old Testament.  It’s spoken to Abraham, Hagar, Moses, the Israelites, Joshua, David, Elijah, Daniel, and all sorts of kings.

The same thing occurs in the New Testament.

An angel appears to Zechariah, and says: Do not be afraid.

An angel appears to Mary:  Do not be afraid.

An angel appears to Joseph:  Do not be afraid.

An angel says it to the shepherds:  Do not be afraid.

An angel appears to the women when they find the empty tomb:  Do not be afraid.

Jesus says it to his disciples after walking through a locked door: Do not be afraid.

The apostle Paul hears it:  Do not be afraid.

Even the book of Revelation, when John sees a vision of Jesus, the first thing Jesus says is:  Do not be afraid.

Do not be afraid.

Your identity is rooted in the love of a creating, redeeming God.  Do not be afraid.

Even if you live in a cardboard box under a bridge, you are loved.  Do not be afraid.

Even if you are worried about being thrown out of the lifeboat, do not be afraid.  You are loved.

You don’t have to live in the house of fear.  Jesus invites us to live in the house of love.

John 15:4 “Remain in me, and I will remain in you.”

________________________________________________

But this identity of being beloved even if we are living in a cardboard box under a bridge is incomplete if it stops there.

It should lead us to fruitful living.

John 15:5  “If someone remains in me and I in him, they will bear much fruit.”

This is why Jesus was weeping.  The adoring crowds were right in worshipping Jesus.   But they were wrong in their expectations.

It starts with our identities as God’s beloved.  But it ends with how we love others.

About how we serve.

About how we consider others better than ourselves.

About how we do to others what we would have them do to us.

About we do our best to do justice and love mercy and walk humbly.

The last shall be first and the first shall be last.

One of my favourite authors said this week “I would say that the powerful, revolutionary thing about Jesus’ message is that he says, ‘What do you do with the people that aren’t like you? What do you do with the Other? What do you do with the person that’s hardest to love?’ . . . That’s the measure of a good religion – you can love the people who are just like you; that’s kind of easy. So what Jesus does is takes the question and talks about fruit. He’s interested in what you actually produce. How do we love the people in the world that are least like us?”

Luke 9:23-24 “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.

We don’t lose our lives for ourselves.  We lose it on behalf of others.

Kind of like Jesus this week.  Losing his life for others.

The good news is that we believe in something more powerful than evil.  We believe in something more powerful than death.  We believe in something more powerful than fear.

We believe in Jesus.  In God with us.  With all of us.  Regardless of our beliefs or perspectives or actions or failures or mistakes or sins or opinions.

It’s this belief in Jesus that helps us move from the house of fear to the house of love.

And we do this in full trust that God is telling us to not be afraid, that we are beloved, and because of that love we will have more and more love to give.

“If you alone find inner peace, thousands around you will be saved.”  St. Seraphim of Sarov.

So ride on King Jesus.  Nothing can hinder thee.   We are not afraid.  We believe in you.  We believe in love.  Come and fill our hearts with peace.  Ride on.

Thank You

I sent the following to everyone who emailed me, texted me, messaged me or commented on my blog…

Thank you for your comments on my blog.  I wasn’t exactly expecting to go “mini-viral” with it or to get so many comments and emails, so I’m sorry that you are getting a form letter instead of a personal one.

As I wrote at the top of my blog, I often find internet conversations to be unhelpful, so I have decided to not publish any comments on this post.

If you wrote a letter of support, thank you.  I am truly overwhelmed by all the support and prayers.  Truly.  Your affirmation and gratefulness have humbled me, and I have shed many tears over the past 48 hours.  My hope and my prayer is that we can all have conversations about bullying, religious freedom, hermeneutics, sexual orientation and responding to government legislation in the context of meaningful relationships that lead to life.

May you continue to love mercy, do justice and walk humbly.

If you wrote a letter disagreeing with me, thank you.  I treasure those voices (and prayers).  I understand that on any given issue in our world there will be divergent voices.  For you too, my hope and my prayer is that we can all have conversations about bullying, religious freedom, hermeneutics, sexual orientation and responding to government legislation in the context of meaningful relationships that lead to life.

May you continue to love mercy, do justice and walk humbly.

As usual, I am always available for coffee (or a caramel latte).  And I am still offering to pick up the tab.  However, due to sheer number of responses I have received, plus the fact that we are walking this journey as a local church, I will have to prioritize my time.  Family first, then existing relationships, then local people, then others.  I ask for your grace and understanding (although the many offers of food from yantzied are tempting).

For those of you who have expressed interest in our church, you can get all the info you need at www.gracemennonitesteinbach.ca (I am away this weekend on a youth retreat, but will be back the following week).  We are not perfect, but we seek to be a faithful community of Jesus followers.

For those of you content at your current church, may you believe that God is active and present in your context, and may you continue to live in God’s “upside-down” kingdom.

And for those of you who are on a “vacation” from church (or sworn it off entirely), my hope and my prayer is that you can find good faith experiences and communities in our world, and look to them for hope.

Grace and Peace,

Kyle Penner

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not
so much seek to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.   – Prayer of St. Francis

How my faith has shaped my response to the conversation about Bill 18.

I am a pastor in Steinbach.  Steinbach made headlines about Bill 18 recently.  My letter to the editor of the Carillon was published.  I was asked to be on CBC and CTV about that letter.  This is my story.

(As usual, internet conversations are often unhelpful.  If you want to talk, I’ll pick up the tab).

_____________________________________________

I was at a youth pastors meeting and a month ago and was given some articles and cards stating one church’s opposition to Bill 18.  One article specifically said:  The biggest threat to Gay Straight Alliances is conservative, religious groups.  And this was given to me by a conservative, religious church hoping to prevent Gay Straight Alliances.

So I kind of knew a conflict was brewing.

There was an information and prayer night at the local, private, Christian school.  I went to that meeting with mixed intentions.  One person said I was going looking for ammunition.  Okay, I can admit that.   But I also went since I am a part of this community and wanted to get a feeling on how people felt.

At the meeting, I realized what it was like to be an outcast.

We clapped for the politicians in the front row.  Twice.

My friend and I were the only ones that we could see not clapping.

And then we were invited to acknowledge that we were there for Jesus.

And the entire auditorium rose to its feet for a standing ovation.

My friend and I did not stand up.  We did not clap.  My faith in Jesus is the most important thing to me.  And I sat with my arms crossed and a scowl on my face.  I sent a text:  “Jesus is now getting a standing ovation.”  “Oh my”, was the response.

Did I pull a Peter and deny Jesus?  No.  I said, “I love you Jesus, but I am not standing up for you in this way, in this place.”

We left before the praying started.  I didn’t want to say anything that would make the people next to me mad.

After the meeting, I could not believe that everyone was hiding behind the language of religious freedom.   And nobody was talking about the suicide rate of GLBTQ kids.  Brutal.

So I wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper in an attempt to highlight the fact that GLBTQ kids have a suicide rate 4-5 times the national average.  And the suicide rates of gay AND straight teens goes up in communities that aren’t considered supportive (you can read it 2 blog posts below, after the labour haikus).

In my letter, I was hoping to frame the question of bullying in a different light.  Instead of talking about religious freedom and morality, the baseline should be:  How do we keep kids alive?  Instead of figuring out which Bible verses say what, we should start with “The Bible wants to keep everyone alive.”

And so my letter was published.

Some of my thinking was this:

– Jesus always took the side of the poor, the outcast, the oppressed, and the marginalized.  Often at the expense of the religious leaders who followed the rules.  In this case, who is on the fringe?  That’s where I need to be. – me

– Folks didn’t have an encounter with Jesus and walk away saying, “Man, he sure doesn’t like gay folks.”  – Shane Claiborne

– We are allowed to comment and protest and influence government legislation.  I do all the time.  But this one is different.  Sexual orientation is not a choice.  There is no “love the sinner, hate the sin” option here. No choice.  – me

– “I believe that when we treat homosexual people as pariahs and push them outside our communities and churches; when we blame them for who they are; when we deny them our blessing on their commitment to lifelong, faithful relationships, we make them doubt whether they are children of God, made in his image.” – Steve Chalke

Well, then, apparently my letter didn’t work.

The RM of Hanover passed a motion opposing Bill 18 for “religious freedom reasons”. The city of Steinbach passed a motion opposing Bill 18 for “religious freedom reasons”.   I know that there were thousands of letters being written to MLAs and that the local school division trustees were getting tons and tons of angry letters for not opposing Bill 18.

On Wednesday morning, after the city passed that motion, I was giving out hugs to people with gay friends and gay family.  My hairdresser said that if she hadn’t ditched atheism for Christianity 3 years ago, this would be the final nail in the coffin.  She would never consider a Christianity like this.

And the worst part is that nobody was publically connecting the dots.  The issue is not religious freedom.  The issue is that some people think being gay is a sin, and thus we can’t have clubs in our schools promoting sin.

I remember being in my church office on Wednesday and jumping around (like I had to go pee) telling my co-workers:  “I want to fight!  I want to fight!  This has to stop!”

I wanted to be a voice for the oppressed and marginalized.  Some of my thinking was:

– “As long as Christians are more dedicated to stand up for “truth and righteousness” than speaking out against injustice & hate, we will not be seen as a people of love. People will not see Jesus.”  – Jamie Arpin-Ricci

– “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

– Mother Theresa’s response to abortion this:  “We’ll take your children.”  I wanted to shout to the world, “If you church doesn’t want anybody who is GLBTQ, we’ll take them.”

And then Thursday happened.  The Winnipeg Free Press ran a sermon from a church in town that kind of went off the rails.  They put the pastors picture on half the front page.  In the morning, when I got my newspaper, I spit out my coffee in shock.

CBC and CTV contacted me.  I had written a letter to the newspaper, so somone sent them to me for an interview so they could hear a different voice in the community.

This was my chance.  24 hours after saying I wanted to fight, I had the chance to be on 2 news channels plus their radio affiliates.

I wanted soooo bad to get on TV and say, “We’re not all like this!  I support Bill 18! And a message to all the GLBTQ kids out there… You are not alone!”

I bounced it off our lead pastor, our church chair, our administrative assistant, the mayor who referred them to me, my wife, and others.

I declined.

I told the reporters that I wanted to be a positive voice in the community, and that I would be saying all those things on Sunday.  But it would happen in my church and in the context of relationships, where we care for each other.  And not in an 8-second sound bite.

I don’t regret that decision.  If I had gone on, despite my best intentions, despite the best intentions of the reporters, I would have been the “anti-ranting” pastor.  I would have ramped up the rhetoric.  I needed to be better than a sound bite.

Two of my Mennonite friends with different sexual orientations than me wondered how people would hear hope, or where the Christian GLTBQ kids would find Christian leaders to support them.  Most of my Christian friends wondered how the world would know that not all Christians are like that.  Many of my Steinbach friends wondered how the world would know that not all Steinbach-ers are like that.

I’ll live with that tension for quite a while.

But I hope that by not shouting from the television, and investing in the hard work of relationships, and belonging to a church that doesn’t offer judgement, the people who need hope and affirmation can find it.  In a more meaningful way than a sound bite.

_______________________

And one final way that my Christian faith has influenced my response to the conversation about Bill 18.

For lent, I have been getting up early and praying.  As I am not a morning person, it has been quite the discipline.

At first, many of my prayers were ones for forgiveness.  Calling people homo-phobes or bigots or cowards isn’t very healthy, so I confessed.

And then after a while, my prayers changed.

This past week, they changed from confession to almost exclusive prayers for the church that made the headlines, the pastor, and the people who go there.

–  Love your enemies.  Do good to those who hate you.  Pray for those who persecute you. – Jesus

– Pray for people who make you angry.  If I hate the haters, I become what I hate.  – me

And my prayers haven’t been filled with an agenda.  I haven’t prayed that certain people would change, or that the legislation would be passed, or that certain people would shut up.  My prayers have simply been, “Bless _____.  And ______.”

I’ve been following Common Prayer, A Prayer Book for Ordinary Radicals.  This was one of the prayers this week:

–          As the morning casts off the darkness, Lord, help us to cast aside any feelings of ill will we have might harbour against those who have hurt us.  Soften our hearts to work toward their conversion and ours.  Amen.

I am as broken as pastors who go viral for all the wrong reasons.  I must pray for them, even through clenched teeth.  I’ve been telling people this week, “I really need Jesus this week to help me love my enemies.  I’m having a hard time doing that.”

And strangely, after a week of praying for people who make me mad, it’s becoming easier.  It’s a miracle <smile>.

Lord have mercy as we walk together from here.  Lord have mercy.

Kyle

PS – And please, will somebody remember that in communities that aren’t supportive, the suicide rate of GLBTQ kids goes up 20% and the suicide rate of straight kids goes up 9%?  Thanks.

Labour Haikus

My son was born on February 28th at 8:20 pm.

At that point, my wife had been having contractions for 36 hours, with a 12 hour break in the middle (long story).

Because we weren’t expecting such a long labour (with a break in the middle), a bunch of our family had all gotten together and were waiting.

So me, being the dutiful husband, son, grandson, brother, and uncle, I had the task of keeping the rest of my family updated.

Instead of answering 15 texts every 2 hours all asking, “How’s it going? Is there progress?” I decided to be pre-emptive and text them before they could text me.

However, the idea of sending texts like “3 cm dilated” or “30 second contractions 4-6 minutes apart” or “waiting of the doctor” for hours and hours seemed quite tedious and un-creative.

So, I decided to keep my family updated with haikus. Despite not sleeping for two straight nights, with my right hand I haiku-ed and with my left hand I got squeezed ridiculously hard.

Haikus are a form of Japanese poetry. I exclusively used 3 line haikus, with my only limitations being 5 syllables for the first line, 7 syllables for the second, and 5 syllables for the third.

These are my haikus:

February 27, 6:16pm
Hospital again
Hoping for better results
Ready for baby

February 27, 9:17pm
Contractions again
Let’s get this show on the road
Trying to sleep now

February 27, 10:36pm
Ashley still sleeping
Being checked every hour
Slowly but surely

February 28, 1:30am
Contractions aren’t fun
How do we manage the pain?
Bring on the morphine

February 28, 7:48am
Morning family
Sleep and morphine make good nights
Hoping drip starts soon

February 28, 8:58am
The drip has started
Everyone is doing well
Soon we will meet him

February 28, 10:47am
Slowly but surely
They’re increasing the dosage
Ashley hates haikus

February 28, 11:15am
They don’t make dads food
Who wants to help a dad out?
And bring me lunch?

February 28, 12:30pm
Getting more intense
Hopefully by supper time
I will meet my son

February 28, 12:57pm
The wrong thing to say
“It’s going to get eas’er”
She called me a jerk

February 28, 1:56pm – Kira’s haiku
Baby please come soon
Make this haiku madness end
Please just make it end

February 28, 2:20pm – Kira’s haiku
Just kidding Kyle
New dads should do dad-like things
Keep on haiku-ing

February 28, 3:01pm
Kira likes haikus
Baby’s taking his sweet time
Doc coming soon

February 28, 3:33pm
Daniela is great
She laughs at all my lame jokes
We’re glad she’s here

February 28, 4:07pm
Labour is painful
I’d be whimpering a lot
Ashley is strong

February 28, 4:09pm – Al’s haiku
Go Ash go
We can hardly wait to hug Fred
Luv you lots

February 28, 4:15pm
Al is haiku-ing
He has mad poetry skills
You should haiku too

February 28, 4:24pm – Kira’s haiku
Hey, I haiku too
No love for my writing skills
Now who’s the jerk, yo?

February 28, 5:40pm
I’m banned from haikus
It’s time for me to focus
Time to meet my son

February 28, 8:20pm
Zachary Micah Enns Penner was born.

Key: 
Ashley – Wife
Kira – Brother’s girlfriend
Al – My father
Daniela – Our nurse
Fred – What my family called my son before they knew his real name

My letter to the editors of the Carillon and the Free Press – Bill 18 meeting

Well, I did it.  I joined the cacophony.

I submitted the following to both the Carillon and the Free Press.

My hope is that as we hold diverse opinions on diverse issues, that we can work together to create safe spaces, stop bullying, and work to keep kids alive.

Sometimes internet comments and dialogues are quite unhelpful, but if you want to have a conversation with me, I’ll pick up the tab.

Kyle

 

Dear Editor,

I attended the meeting on Bill 18 on Sunday.

We were told it wasn’t a political meeting, despite my invitation coming to me on official MLA letterhead.

We were told it was a spiritual meeting, even though the three MLAs in attendance received two rounds of applause before Jesus did.

And while the language of the bill is an important issue, I highly doubt that 1200 people showed up to discuss the definition of bullying.  I’d venture to say that most of the people in attendance were there to defend their religious freedom.

But what are we defending?  Bill 18 states that schools must accommodate students who wish to promote anti-racism, gender equity, the removal of barriers for people with disabilities.  Surely we aren’t defending our right to be racist, sexist, or not have wheelchair ramps, right?

I think the crux of why 1200 people showed up is Bill 18’s specific wording about promoting “the awareness and understanding of, and respect for, people of all sexual orientations and gender identities” and student led Gay Straight Alliances.

This is within our rights.   We’re allowed to disagree with government legislation.   I just wish we could call a spade a spade.

And as we were encouraged to pray for religious freedom, I added one item to my prayers that wasn’t mentioned.

20-30% of teenagers who identify themselves as Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgendered/Questioning (GLBTQ) have attempted suicide.  The suicide rate of GLBTQ teenagers is 4-5 times the national average.  And those numbers go up in communities where GLBTQ kids don’t feel supported.

So in addition to praying for religious freedom, I also prayed that we could work together to keep kids alive.  Surely the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

Kyle Penner

Steinbach, MB

Nu-Uh #1 – Expectations on the Preacher

I think that many youth pastors don’t make the transition to being senior pastors for one of two reasons.

The first reason is that they really love working with teenagers and youth ministry and the joys of retreats and mentoring kids and summer trips and gathering to share both food and lives every week in a small, intentional community.   Youth ministry is a calling, not a stepping stone, and they are quite content to be the cool old person who has given up trying to be hip years ago.

The second reason is that they look at the senior pastor down the hallway and say “Nu-uh.  No way.  Forget that.”

It is this second reason that intrigues me.  Of which I will attempt to explore.

I think there are two main reasons for this.

Nu-Uh Reason #1

The first, is NOT job description, but rather job EXPECTATION.

As pastors, we get to do lots of cool things.  We get to preach.  We get to worship lead.  We get to do weddings and funerals and baptisms and child dedications.  We get to set directions for congregations.  We get to walk with people when life is easy and when life is hard.  We get to explore the meaning of life and are allowed access to some pretty deep parts of people’s lives.  We get time to reflect on Scripture and pray.  Some of us even get to go on cool trips.  And if it’s your thing (which for some people it is), we get to sit on some boards and committees that are hopefully engaging in life-changing work as opposed to spending hours taking minutes.

I sometimes think that we are jacks of all trades but master of none.

But I think that while the original job description isn’t the problem, the job expectation is, so thus the job description becomes the problem.

There are a couple of things going on here.

The first, and biggest, is that Christendom (where everyone in a society is considered Christian) is dying.  Christianity is not relevant on the large scale that it once was.  Church attendance in major urban centres range between 2-20%, and one is considered an attendee of church if they show up once a month (Yes.  That would be 12 hours a year, or less than two days of work).  Church is no longer the priority it used to be.

I like to think that with the passing of Christendom, every sentence about church starting with the words “People should” gets thrown out the window.

People should give money to church.  But while overall charitable donations are going up, the percentage going to churches is declining.

People should show up for worship on Sunday mornings.  But they’re not (see above numbers).

People should volunteer at something that’s life giving at church.  But between work and hockey practice and going to the gym and sitting on the library board and cleaning the RV, we find all sorts of reasons not to serve at church.

Usually this transition out of Christendom doesn’t bother me.  I am actually quite excited about the small and faithful remnant seeking to be followers of Jesus.

But what this means for the pastor is that almost every task they do requires that much more work.

Planning a Bible study and putting it in the bulletin doesn’t mean people will show up.  Nor does announcing it from the front, hoping that the Sunday you extend the invitation is the one Sunday a month that people will be at.

Getting people to volunteer for a board can be like pulling teeth on the best of days.  Now you have a model that worked when people came to church, but now less people to ask.  I know of one church where the members would screen their calls and if it was someone from the nominations committee, they wouldn’t pick up.

Finding ushers and Sunday School teachers and piano players and people to sing in nursing homes gets harder and harder.  Let alone inviting people to put their trust in Jesus Christ on days other than Christmas Eve and Easter morning.

So we have structures and systems in place for when church was easy.  Now that church is harder, we expect our pastors to be as competent at everything as they were 40 years ago.

Which leads us to the next part of having really high expectations.

If someone attends a “normal” worship service, they will probably encounter some congregational singing, a solo or two, an offering, some prayers, some silence, a sermon, some coffee after the service, with maybe a children’s story thrown in there.

And when they meet their friends for lunch after and someone asks, “How was church?” what is the number one thing that we comment on?

The sermon.

“Church was boring.”  “Why?” “I fell asleep during the sermon.”  “The preacher lost me.”   “Watching grass grow was more exciting than that.”

While I believe that the sermon shouldn’t be the only important part of a worship service, by and large, it is still considered the most important part of a worship service.

And, given the reality that every task a pastor does takes more time and energy than it used to, what do you think gets the shaft?

The funeral?  No.

The wedding?  No.

The important pastoral visitation with someone whose partner passed away two years ago?  No.

The committee meeting?  No.

The sermon?  Yes.  I’m going to venture that most pastors show up at their weekly staff meetings on Tuesday morning with a Scripture passage and a blank screen.  Many of us even show up Friday morning with a Scripture passage and a blank screen.  Oh, yes, it always gets done, but here we go with expectations again.

If the sermon is one of the most important parts of Sunday morning worship, we had better do a good job.  Otherwise we’re going to have a lot of people going home disappointed.  And if every task that pastors do requires more effort than it did in the past, we have less time to do a good job.

In addition to all this, the final kicker is that our expectations are remarkably high because we have instant access to some of the best communicators in the world.  Didn’t like the sermon on Sunday?  Just download your favourite podcast or watch one online.  Almost every church puts their sermons online, so we get to be remarkably picky about whom we listen to.  And if this week’s online sermon from Preacher X is sub-par, we just stop listening and start a new one from Pastor Y that engages us.

No wonder people want good sermons.  Our expectations are through the roof.  We’re listening to the best of the best while stuck in traffic driving to work.

And so, preach a couple of bad sermons, and why come to church?  I can just listen in my car!

We put up with bad or boring church services when everyone attended church.  It’s what you did.  Nowadays?  Nope.  I’m going to have coffee at home and watch the birds.

Unrealistic expectations?  Yes.

Transitioning to a Post-Christendom reality?  Yes.

So, as churches we have two choices.  We either change the senior pastors job description to free up more time for preparing for worship and sermons.  Or we show up to church expecting an adequate sermon and go home happy with it.

I’m not sure which one will win out.

In the meanwhile, most pastors who work with youth are going to keep preaching their 2-6 times a year and doing an awesome job on those 2-6 sermons.

Post Script: There is so much I don’t like about this post.  I don’t like how much emphasis we place on the sermon.  We need good preaching, but we also need good community, good silence, good contemplative prayer practices, good music, good conversations over coffee.  But I guess that as long as we answer the question “How was church?” with “Awesome!  It was a great sermon!”  then I’m stuck here.  I would much answer the question “How was church?” with “I am grateful to be part of a community that is following Jesus as they try to love God and love their neighbours.”  Maybe that’s what my next sermon should be about…

Nu-uh Reason #2 – Will hopefully be written in the next few weeks.

The Future of Mennonite Pastors?

Through a variety of observations and conversations, I believe, we, as Mennonite Church Canada, have a lead pastor problem.  When those love-able baby boomers ever decide to retire (at 67 now?), there are going to be a lot of churches looking for lead pastors.

I know that our church conference pays people much smarter (and tactful) than me to look after these kind of things.  But there is one little thing observation, I think, that might going under the radar.

Let’s back up the boat up a bit.

Here in Mennonite Church Manitoba (MCM), we have something called Youth Ministry Fellowship.  Basically, all the people who work in youth ministry (usually paid pastors) get together every month or two to share, pray, eat, laugh, cry, plan and keep each other sane.

I have been attending these meetings for the past 7 ½ years, and they are one of the most life giving meetings I’ve been a part of.

Over my 7 ½ years of attending, I have seen approximately 25 different people come and go through those meetings.

And of those 25 or so, how many do you think ended up as senior/lead pastors at MCM congregations?

Three.

Just you so can read that again… Three.  3/25. That’s 12%.

That means that 88% of young pastors (generally under 35 with a university education who both love God and the church enough that they are willing to give up their weekends at the cabin) have not transitioned to lead pastors.

Now, I know that many of them stay as youth or associate pastors, change careers, find out that being a pastor isn’t just working one hour a week on Sunday, find out they don’t like being a pastor, etc. (Of special note, a certain segment have actually ceased going to church entirely.  From pastor to ECO (Easter/Christmas only) in 5 years.  That’s worth another thread someday).

But 88% of youth pastors not becoming lead/senior pastors?

If any of our churches simply thought: “Oh, the replacement for Pastor Baby Boomer is across the hall”, or “Oh, the replacement for Pastor Baby Boomer is a youth/associate pastor at a different church”, they have a 12% chance of being right.

So, my next couple of posts will be contemplating some thoughts on this.

1)      Change the job description (and expectations) of being a senior pastor

2)      Look elsewhere than youth pastors to replace lead/senior pastors

3)      Congregations finding new ways to both engage God and God’s people.

And as someone who hasn’t decided which side of that 88/12 split I want to be on, I look forward to the conversation.

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