You're Invited to Dinner

Six months ago, I announced that from now on, I would be cooking and eating dinner at church every Wednesday evening - and that anyone who wanted to join me was welcome.

A few people accepted my invitation.  Throughout the summer, there would be seven to ten people joining me for dinner on Wednesdays.  I put out a basket and invited those who had come more than once to put a few dollars in to help pay for the food.  The money received almost covered what I spent.

The meals were simple:  quesadillas, hamburgers, spaghetti.  Later on I would get creative, trying new recipes, like the time I made Turkey & Vegetable Chili Verde from scratch.  Delicious, fun to make, but still simple.  The only beverage I provided was ice water, although our church does have a vending machine with reasonably priced beverages.  We ate on paper plates with paper napkins.

At the end of summer, the number of dinner guests began to grow.  Soon we were 15, then 20.  One week we had 25.  Some of those who came said they wanted an opportunity to cook, so I got to enjoy some Wednesday dinners without having to plan, shop, and prepare the food, which was nice.  And the money in the basket soon began to surpass the amount that was spent.

As we begin our seventh month of Wednesday night dinners, I'm surprised to discover that each week is more enjoyable and satisfying to me than the previous week.  I'm surprised, because I've been trained to expect just the opposite from life.  Normally, satisfaction decreases over time.  The new clothes I bought six months ago don't bring me nearly the same level of satisfaction today that they brought me when they were new.  The DVD I bought over the summer now sits on a shelf collecting dust.  I can say the same for just about everything I've ever bought.  They quickly become old, tired, boring, or obsolete, and never bring me the long-lasting satisfaction that I crave.

But Wednesday night dinners remain fresh, exciting, and deeply satisfying.  I figure this is true for several reasons:

1. It's REAL.  So often we seek to amuse ourselves with things that are VIRTUAL:  TV, internet, tabloid magazines.  But the people we encounter there aren't real.  They're not there with us.  We can't interact with TV and movie personalities, and we can only interact in a limited way with people via the internet.  This leaves us dissatisfied.
2. It's ORGANIC.  By that I mean it's something we create ourselves.  We're not dependent on someone else (TV producers, fashion designers, or corporate advertisers, for example) to mass-produce entertainment for us.  This is something we've created.  It's unique, and it's ours.
3. It's DYNAMIC.  The shirt I bought six months ago, it's still the same.  The DVD I bought: the story never changes.  But an experience that is real and organic will always be changing, different every time.  It's dynamic, not static.  New people show up, and the old people have new stories to tell.  The menu changes from week to week, and so does the location where we eat: outside on the patio when it's warm, inside when it's not.  In conversation around the dinner table, we listen and respond to what's going on in our lives and in our families:  births, deaths, lost jobs, new jobs, new relationships, and the joys and challenges of raising children or caring for parents.

This is community at its best.  This is LIFE at its best.  It's much more satisfying than anything I could buy.  And it just keeps getting better.

So:  Who wants to join me for dinner? 

(For those seriously interested in coming, yes, the invitation is real.  Weekly updates are posted at www.facebook.com/bixbyknollschurch.  If I'm organized enough, I'll even post the menu there.  Everyone is welcome.)

Be a Blessing, Not a Complainer

People who use social media like facebook, twitter, etc. know that it can be a mixed blessing. This is true for a number of reasons; one of them is that social media can be a tool for positive blessings, and it can be used as a tool for negative whining and complaints.

Not long ago, I noticed that the posts and status updates of some of my social media friends were really bringing me down. Every post seemed to be a complaint about life, about the government, about society. Eventually, I began to "hide" the updates from the most consistently negative of my friends, as they were starting to make me depressed.

Then there are those friends whose social media updates are a breath of fresh air. Postive. Uplifting. A blessing to the world wide web. Occasionally there would be a prayer request for a hospitalized family member or for getting through a particularly difficult situation (which is certainly fine), but generally speaking, they were free of complaints.

Politicians and government in general get a lot of the complaints. We sure do like to criticize and ridicule our elected officials! The elected officials, likewise, like to criticize and ridicule each other. I wonder, though: are the politicians following our lead, or is it the other way around? We complain about the partisanship and bickering in government; we complain about anyone who thinks differently than we do. If elected officials are there to represent the people, then perhaps their partisanship and bickering are an appropriate reflection of the people they represent.

What I'm saying is that if I want my representatives in government to act more civil toward those with whom they disagree, maybe such behavior needs to start with me.

Last week I spent a little time in downtown Long Beach, and in walking the streets I passed by the Occupy Long Beach camp. A part of me really wanted to engage these folks in conversation, and let them know that I think a lot of the stuff they are trying to bring to society's attention are the same things that God wants brought to our attention.

However, they seem more "anti" than "pro." There is a certain level of anger and even animosity that made me slightly uncomfortable as I passed by. So I smiled and said hello, and kept walking.

It's similar to the situation of the lobster protesters I've written about before.

I know, some things are worth getting angry about. I just think the ratio of positive thoughts and constructive action to complaints and snarkiness needs to be greater than it is. Starting with me.

Update: Here's a news article about a local Long Beach resident who, I think, exemplifies what I'm talking about here.

You're Not Alone

Note:  I posted this last Thursday, but for some reason it disappeared from the blog, so I'm reposting it again today.

Last week, a strange thing happened here at FieldOfDandelions.com. 

First, I published a post on Monday.  Usually, new posts only appear here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  However, the fact that I published on a Monday is not the strangest thing to have occured.

Second, I mentioned my post on facebook and twitter, letting people know that I had posted my reaction to the killing of Osama bin Laden.  This, also, is not particulary strange.  It wasn't the first time I had promoted my blog this way.

Third, more people viewed that particular post than anything else that has ever appeared here.  As blogs go, this one is a tiny drop in a vast sea of blogs, but still, it was exciting (and a little scary) to discover that so many people were motivated to read what I had written.

However, even that was not the strangest thing to occur here last week.

The strangest thing was the comments I received in response to that post.  I received some comments here on the blog, and quite a few more on the link to the blog that I posted via facebook.  Comments also came via telephone from relatives who read the blog, and they came through face-to-face conversations with people in my church and community who saw what I had written.  Every person who shared their thoughts with me said that they were grateful for what I'd written.  They were grateful, because they had those same thoughts themselves, but thought that they were the only ones.

Imagine that:  a whole crowd of people, all thinking alike, but each member of the crowd believing that he or she was the only one.

Last Friday I visited my neighborhood public library and checked out a book by Tina Rosenberg called Join the Club: How Peer Pressure Can Transform the World.  I'm currently about halfway through, but so far I've read about how much better black and Latino students do at Calculus when they study in a group and realize that they're not the only ones who want to excel in math.  I've read about how a sign at Petrified Forest National Park asking visitors to not take fossils only encouraged people to do so, because it showed an image of a group of people taking fossils - apparently no one wanted to be the "only one" who didn't go home with a souvenir - and when the sign was changed to only show one person taking a fossil, the thefts declined dramatically.  I've read about how social pressure causes teenagers to smoke and how it increases the spread of AIDS, and how social pressure can (and has been) used to reduce teen smoking and the spread of AIDS.

Apparently, it's human nature to want to be part of the group and to do what the group is doing or at least what the group approves of.  When we think we're the only one, we either hide, or change our behavior so that we more easily fit in.

So, to all those who believe that the words "killed" and "celebrate" do not belong together, I tell you:  you're not alone.  To those who believe that God's love extends even to our worst enemies, I say:  you're not alone.  To those who long for a more peaceful, compassionate Christianity, I say:  you're not alone.  To those who believe there is a greater deptgh to our faith than the soundbites that appear in the media, I say:  you're not alone.

Churches like mine are small, perhaps because we think that we are alone in wanting a deeper, more peaceful and compassionate spirituality than what we see in the world.... and because we feel that we are alone, we keep quiet.  However, there are many others who long for that same genuine faith.

Perhaps our message to the world should be:  "You're not alone."

Not That Kind of Pastor

Sometimes it's hard to be a pastor.  Sometimes, if I can be completely honest, I wish I were something else.  Sometimes, when I hear or read about how some of my clergy colleagues behave, I want to scream, shout, and let the whole world know:  I'm not that kind of pastor!

This week, I was even tempted to change the title of my blog from fieldofdandelions.com to notthatkindofpastor.com.  That's how much I want people to know this about me. 

Last week, a friend of mine wrote a sentence comparing organized religion with organized crime, and posted it online.  A large number of people wrote their own responses, some supporting my friend's comment, some strongly dissagreeing.  I considered posting my own response, pointing out that I took no offense because my own church is as unorganized as they get (haha), but I reconsidered after reading the comments that had turned into a rather intense discussion, feeling that my humor would not be appreciated there.

In his own response to all the responses, my friend listed what he considered to be some of the abuses of the church, specifically mentioning preachers in their $2000 suits who ignore the need of the poor while raising huge amounts of money for Prop 8.

Again, I considered responding, this time in a more serious manner.  I even typed in a comment, but then deleted it before posting.  The reason, this time, is that I had just read an article in the Huffington Post titled "Ricky Martin Boycotted by the Church."  Well, it wasn't "the church" that was boycotting Ricky Martin, but a Puerto Rican pastor, Wanda Rolon, who declared that Ricky Martin was "dragging the church to hell" due to his homosexuality.

After reading the article, I realized I had no defense to make to my friend.  Pastor Rolon doesn't speak for the church, and she certainly doesn't speak for me, but that's not the story the media tell.  According to the media, "the church" is against gays.

Gee, thanks, Pastor Rolon.

Sometimes I wish I were not a pastor.

And about those $2000 suits... I don't think my whole wardrobe is worth that much.  A lot of what's in my closet actually came from thrift stores.  I don't look like those preachers on TV.  But that's just it:  they're on TV.  I'm not.  I'm just the pastor of a small church filled with a handful of wonderful, loving people who pay their pastor what they can.

$2000 suit? If I had $2000, I'd go see a dentist, something I haven't been able to afford in over five years.  Or maybe I'd get my bike tuned up, seeing as it's my primary form of transportation.  Or maybe I'd use that money to send my son to that camp for kids with diabetes that he wants to go to.

It's stressful being a pastor.  The proclamation of a few of my more outspoken colleagues - and the media attention - doesn't help.

What does help?  First and foremost, remembering why I do what I do.  I was called by God to guide a congregation of people who are struggling to figure out how to fully live the life God intends for them, a life filled with joy and blessing and goodness and service to others.  How awesome is that!

Secondly, it helps to know that I am making progress with myself when it comes to living that abundant life.  A lot of folks who have more money than I are a lot less happy than I; they see less meaning and find less satisfaction in life. 

Thirdly, the word of God within me is like a fire.  I cannot contain it.  It is a word of wholeness, a word that liberates people from bondage and oppression.  With so many who claim otherwise, this good news is bursting within me.

Lastly, I find things to do that bring me peace and relieve the stress.  I've written about them here before.  I pray every day.  I seek out beautiful places to explore, usually close to where I live, often by hiking or riding my bike.  I meditate over a cup of green tea, or while stacking rocks, or while making friendship bracelets.

Yes, friendship bracelets.  I know, it seems kind of juvenile to make friendship bracelets.  Kids at camp taught me how to make them a number of years ago. It really is relaxing to me.  As it turns out, I've made quite a few.  And I find it an enjoyable challenge to picture a pattern in my mind, then see if I can transfer that pattern from my mind to a bracelet.

The only thing is, now I have a whole bunch of these bracelets, and I'm not sure what to do with them.  I did see someone selling similar bracelets at DowntownDisney awhile back for five bucks apiece.  I don't really want to "sell" my bracelets, but I would be willing to send one to anyone who makes a donation - of any size - to Bixby Knolls Christian Church.  That might help me feel better about not being able to give back as much as I'd like to the congregation that has given me so much.  Let me know if you are interested.

I've rambled a bit here, and at times this has come close to being a "rant."  It is not my intention to "rant."  But I do want you to know that I'm not that kind of pastor.

Tragedy in Tucson: My Confession

[Note: after I wrote this today, I didn't want to wait until Thursday (when I usually publish my blog), so it is appearing one day early...]

Following the tragic shooting in Tucson last week, it was so easy to jump on the bandwagon pointing to the causes of such violence in society.  Friends on Facebook immediately began pointing fingers at folks like Sarah Palin, whose website featured gun sights targeting a number of progressive/liberal politicians, including Representative Gabrielle Giffords.  I had not known about Sarah Palin's "targets," and was horrified enough to post my own status update condeming her and her website.

It's so easy for me to condemn and blame those who (like Palin) are so obviously wrong think differently than I do.  Even as I did so, however, I heard a small voice in the back of my head challenging me to think differently.  Over the next several days, that voice got louder and louder until I could ignore it no longer.

I was utterly annoyed.

I was annoyed, because I didn't want to think differently.  I was certain that my thinking around this issue was right.  Yet the voice told me I needed to look at the words and actions of Sarah Palin and others from a more compassionate, Christ-like point of view. 

The problem was, I didn't want to look at Palin from a Christ-like point of view.

As I read more and more of my fellow progressives indirectly blame Palin for the massacre, it seemed to me that they (we) were "targeting" her in a way that wasn't so different from the way she had "targeted" politicians who disagreed with her.  The voice said that, therefore, we really weren't that different from Palin. 

The problem was, I didn't want to think of myself as being not so different from her.

But as I listened to the voice, I realized that it was right.  Despite her offensive rhetoric and actions, Palin - like the rest of us - got caught up in the ongoing war of words.  Palin - like the rest of us - had been fired upon, and fired back in return. 

Who, you may ask, fired the first shot?

Just today, I happened to read that some of the earliest written language, coming from Mesopotamia thousands of years ago, included trash talk.  Back then, there were two kinds of people:  farmers and herders.  The farmers trash-talked the herders, and the herders trash-talked the farmers.  In the book of Genesis, we see the result of all this trash-talk:  Cain (the farmer) killed his brother Abel (the herder).  Apparently, things weren't so different, even then.

63 years ago today, Gandhi began a fast to convince Hindus and Muslims in New Delhi to work for peace.  Instead of getting caught up in the conflict and the trash-talk, he searched for - and found - a better way.

Instead of blaming the other side, perhaps we need to spend some time praying for peace.  Perhaps we can, each of us, confess our own participation in the ongoing wars of rhetoric.  Fasting might even be a good idea, as a way of focusing our thoughts.

It is true that when verbal bullets fly, real bullets are more likely to follow.  I, for one, am going to work harder to ensure that none of those verbal bullets come from me.

Exaggerated Claims

It seems that a lot of people lately have been lying or making misleading statements in order to justify their views on things.  (If that introductory sentence gives the impression that the tone of today's blog post is going to be a little different than normal, and you don't like it, then you might want to visit some other blog today.)  I appreciate hearing from people with differences of opinion; conversations that include various viewpoints are, I've found, quite helpful.  But when the participants in those conversations lie, distort the truth, or deliberately mislead their listeners, it goes beyond annoying.  It makes me fear for the future.

One example:  I have before talked on this blog about those who insist that all Muslims are terrorists.  Well, this week I've noticed a video making the rounds on facebook and other internet sites which proclaims that all Muslims are advocates of violence, and will do anything to force Islam upon all people everywhere.  Even Muslims who claim to be advocates of peace, the video claims, are simply lying in order to achieve their goals.

Yikes!  The video is so blatantly hateful and prejudiced that I don't know where to begin.  The makers of the video have obviously used their own fears to paint a picture of Islam that is completely false.  In their effort to get people to view all Muslims according to their own distorted vision, they have become advocates of the type of hatred and even terror that they purport to criticize.

I wasn't going to talk about Islam in this post, since I've talked about it previously on this blog, but the shock of seeing such a hateful video trumped what I had previously planned to talk about.  What was on my mind originally was the misleading claims of politicians in this election season.  Politicians of all parties and ideologies employ half-truths and misleading statements in an effort to distinguish them from their competitors, but one I noticed this week seems particularly misleading. 

Candidates here in California (and, I suspect, elsewhere in the country) are talking about the "largest tax increase in history" that will take place in 2011 unless they are able to beat out their political opponent in history.  The phrase "largest tax increase in history" is attention-grabbing, and startled me enough to investigate whether the claim is true.

According to factcheck.org, the "tax increase" that is scheduled to go into effect is the result of the expiration of tax cuts that are currently in effect.  A vast majority of those in office today are committed to preserving those tax cuts for everyone except for families making over $250,000 a year, which means that for families that make less than $250,000, there will be no tax increase.

For the richest Americans, there might be a tax increase, but some politicians (Republicans mostly, but also a number of Democrats) are working to keep the cuts for even the wealthiest Americans.  Let's say, though, that the tax cuts are allowed to expire for the wealthy.  How does that compare historically?

The current tax rate for the wealthiest Americans is 35%.  If the tax cuts are allowed to expire, then that tax rate would rise to 39.6%.  Jim Wallis, in his book "Rediscovering Values," puts that in perspective.  He points out that "under Republican president Dwight D. Eisenhower, the top tax bracket was at 91%.  Democratic president John F. Kennedy cut that to 70%."  Further reductions since have brought that down to 35%.

Now, if you think 39.6% is too much to tax the wealthiest Americans, fine.  But any claim that this amounts to the "biggest tax increase in history" must be put into historical context.  I don't know whether or not it is the biggest increase in history or not, but it is clear that it will not result in the highest taxes in history, which I think is what many people assume after hearing the claim.

Finally, I should point out that my own views on this are biased.  I admit it: I am biased by the faith I claim and the scripture that guides me in faith.   In scripture (as Jim Wallis points out), when the inequality of wealth grew too great -- when the rich grew too rich and the poor too poor -- God sent prophets to speak out against society's injustice.  Isaiah, Jeremiah, Amos, Micah ... all of the biblical prophets lived in times of great inequality of wealth.

On the other hand, when things were relatively equal -- when the rich weren't too rich, and the poor weren't too poor -- there were no prophets.

The first decade of the 21st century has been a period of extreme inequality of wealth.  The income gap between rich and poor is greater than it has been at any time in history since the 1920s.  The income gap of the 1920s is, according to many economists, one of the causes of the Great Depression that followed.

This, too, is part of the "history" that should be considered in this political season.  Perhaps, in this election season, what we need is fewer politicians, and more prophets.

Positive Energy

I had to do it.  I had to "hide" you on my facebook page.  You're still my "friend," both on facebook and in real life.  After all, we've known each other almost twenty years, and some of the conversations we've had have helped shape the way I think. 

So my decision to "hide" you was made reluctantly.  However, it was a decision I had to make.  By "hiding" you, I no longer have to see your frequent updates, which consistently spread negative energy.  I no longer have to read about (for example) the annoying children you saw at the restaurant, or the rude person who rang up your groceries, or the flight that was delayed only because the airline was intent on ruining your life.

Everyone has a bad day now and then, but I wonder:  do you ever meet children who aren't annoying?  Do you ever have a friendly conversation in the checkout line?  Do you ever give thanks to God that your flight was on time, or even for the fact that a many-ton aircraft full of people is able to get off the ground at all, and arrive safely at its destination?

Don't get me wrong; I do understand that life can be stressful.  However, that just means that it's all that much more important to seek out positive energy, to pay attention to the blessings of life, and to tune out, as much as possible, the negative energy.  This is why I turn off the TV news.  This is why I avoid movies with violence or lots of yelling.  This is why I walk or ride my bike to work along tree-lined streets, rather than commute by freeway.  Freeways are full of negative energy, especially in southern California during rush hour.

As you know, I am a preacher.  I've preached nearly every Sunday for the past thirteen years.  I'm still figuring out what kind of preacher I want to be.  I'm still trying to decide what my "preaching style" is.

One thing I do know, though, is that I want my preaching to be filled with positive energy.  Yes, the gospel calls me to point out the injustice in the world, but there is always good news to share.  Sometimes it's the good news that God shares in the suffering of the people.  Sometimes it's the good news that, as people of faith, we are called to work for justice and an end to suffering.  But always, there is good news.

Mother Teresa once said that she would never attend an anti-war rally, but that if you were to have a peace rally, be sure to invite her.  That's the kind of message I need to hear.  That's the type of positive energy I need more of, if I am to avoid becoming a bitter man.  So please forgive me for "hiding" your updates on my facebook page.

In the meantime (and I say this with all sincerity):  Have a nice day.

Home

Yesterday morning I was sitting in a coffee shop, which is where I work from every Wednesday morning for ninety minutes or even two hours before heading to church.  I'm not a coffee drinker, but they have green tea, which I do drink.  I am, however, a coffee smeller, and I have no idea what coffees I am smelling when I'm there, but I can think of few things that smell better than the inside of a coffee shop.

I always take with me a book or two, some pieces of paper, and a pencil.  I do not take my laptop - on this one morning of the week, I am free from the burden of email and other social networks, free to read and meditate and perhaps develop some ideas for future sermons without the interruption of electronic communication. 

So, yesterday, as I sat there reading Putting Away Childish Things by Marcus Borg, rereading parts of An Altar in the World by Barbara Brown Taylor, and then composing a prayer for next Sunday's worship, it suddenly occurred to me to check the day's date.  When I did, I realized that it was on the same day two years earlier that I began my ministry at Bixby Knolls Christian Church.

Experience has taught me that the first year at a new church in a new city is mostly about learning how to get around:  how to get to the store, the bank, the post office; how to get around a new sea of faces, learning people's names, getting to know them; how to travel through the seasons and holidays.  The first time through the calendar, everything is new.  It's a time of discovering what traditions and rituals give shape to a congregation's liturgical year.

In the second year, things are more familiar, and "familiar," in this case, is nice in a comforting sort of way.  I don't remember when it was exactly, but at some point during the past year, when my family was driving home after a road trip of several days, I found myself looking forward to "getting back home" to where the scenery, routines, and faces are all familiar.

Suddenly I was startled to realize that, for the first time, "getting back home" meant Long Beach and Bixby Knolls.  What was once new, exciting, unfamiliar and even anxiety-inducing in its newsness had become a place of comfort and familiarity, a place where I belonged.  And now, as I write these words, I wonder if I ever reached this stage in my last place of ministry, the last place I called "home" ... which makes me realize all the more just how good it is to be here.

Conservative Values, Liberal Values, and Social Justice

Rarely do I allow myself to get involved in political debates.  Even more rare are the times when I get engaged in such debates online, through email and social networks.  Almost always, my involvement in such conversations can be summed up in two words:  "delete" and "ignore."

However, I found it hard to ignore one such conversation that took place last week.  It took place on the Facebook page for the Boy Scouts of America.  It began with a "status update" in which the BSA mentioned that several scouts presented the BSA's annual report to Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi.  (BSA operates under a congressional charter.)

The comments that followed were mixed.  Many were negative, expressing condolances for the scouts who had to interact with someone who, in the commenter's opinions, stood against Scouting's values.  Others were even more harsh; had it been a court of law rather than a facebook page, some of the statements would have been deemed libelous and slanderous.

Meanwhile, other comments appeared, insisting that the presentation of the report wasn't about politics, that politics don't even belong in Scouting, and that the values Scouting teaches are neither conservative nor liberal values;  they're Scouting values.

This led to a comment by someone named Tony who said that of course Scouting is, and always has been, based on conservative values.  As proof of this, he cited the fact that "duty to God" has always been a part of the Scout Oath.

I probably should have ignored this comment and the debate as a whole, but I've become tired of having voices I don't agree with speak for me on issues of faith.  So I posted my own comment in which I said that, as a Christian pastor, I believe that it is insulting to God to define God as either conservative or liberal.  God is neither.

Tony then posted another comment, accusing me of insulting him, and arguing against my statement that God is a liberal.

I looked back at what I had written.  Nowhere did I insult Tony.  Nowhere did I say that God is a liberal.

See why I usually try to stay out of these debates?

Meanwhile, in Washington, Congress is currently debating health care.  It seems that one of the sticking points in coming to an agreement over health care is abortion.  Conservatives, generally, will not vote for any health care plan that provides coverage for abortions, because doing so would violate their pro-life values.

I admire their pro-life values.  But I wonder:  Do they realize that the lowest abortion rates in the world are found in countries that provide access to health care and social services to all their citizens?  Do they not know that outlawing or restricting legal abortions does little to affect abortion rates, that the highest abortion rates are actually found in countries where abortion is against the law?

Unfortunately, not everyone is willing to listen to or consider facts like these.  If you try to understand the issue at a deeper level, they accuse you of complicating things.  If you advocate improving social services for the poor, even if it's an effort to lower abortion rates, they might go so far as to accuse you of being a Nazi or Communist, as Glenn Beck did this week.

Improving social services and providing health care will reduce abortions.  But what kind of value is it that uses a "liberal" method to achieve a "conservative" goal?  Some people just have to see it defined as one or the other, rather than engaging in a conversation that can lead to us accepting it as a common value.

I have no problem calling myself a "social justice" pastor.  I have no problem referring to my church as a "social justice" church.  Maybe I'll even put that on my church's new website!  And I would love to have a conversation about what that means.  I have, in fact, been able to have many such conversations over the years, with both "liberals" and "conservatives."

Fortunately, not everyone is a Tony or a Glenn.  Most are, in fact, willing to be reasonable, to listen, and to share their views without name-calling or misrepresenting the views of others.  I have found these conversations to be among the most meaningful in my life.

If we are to make any progress on addressing some of the most important issues we face today, these are the types of conversations we must have.

Social Media and Ministry

It started on Christmas Day, 2004. The kids were playing with their presents, and I sat down at the computer and decided to see if I could figure out how to start a blog. I set it up and published my first post, which, in essence, said to the world: "I'm starting a blog."

665 posts later, I'm still here. Amazing. I never really publicized my blog to people I knew, but neither did I try to keep it secret. Eventually, a few people began reading. Soon, I had an "audience," albeit a small one. I'll admit, though, it was a bit startling when, after a several days with no posts, I got a comment from someone I didn't know saying, "Where are you? Is everything okay?"

In the time since, I've experimented with other forms of social media. When a group of teenagers told me about myspace, I got my own myspace page, mainly so that I could view their myspace pages and see what they were up to. Eventually I was able to use myspace to remind them of youth group meetings, camp registration deadlines, etc. At times it seemed to me that I was delving into some adolescent subculture, but the truth is that I was surprised to discover a number of adults on myspace as well.

I was happy at myspace for awhile. Then someone told me about facebook. Well, might as well see what that's about. Eventually, it seemed that most of the people I wanted to keep in contact with were on facebook, and I started using myspace less and less. This happened about the same time I moved from northern California to southern California, which also got me thinking that perhaps it was a regional "thing."

Then yesterday, I heard this story on NPR about social divisions between myspace and facebook. Seems like there is a definite myspace crowd, and a definite facebook crowd...some of the reason for that, the story suggested, is regional, cultural, generational, and even racial. The story also mentioned that only "old people" use Twitter. Who knew?

While social media are fun, over time I've begun looking at them with an eye to how they can be helpful to me in my ministry. Facebook has been very helpful. I set up a facebook group for my congregation, and I think 40 people joined it during the first 24 hours it was available. I've also secured musical talent for church events through facebook, and made contacts with community members and organizations; and once, at a church board meeting, I used my cell phone to post as my status: "Board meeting is starting--where is everyone?" and one member, at home on facebook, jumped in his car and came to the meeting.

Then there's twitter. I started tweeting last spring. (At 38, I guess I'm old enough.) To be honest, I'm still not sure how helpful it is, or what the point is. Tweeting during General Assembly was fun; it felt kind of like passing notes in class. And occasionally I'll find a helpful link in someone else's tweet. But I'm still not sure about twitter.

DisciplesWorld magazine now has The Intersection, which is a community for members and friends of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). Yes, I'm a part of that, too, although I admit I haven't been too active there. I'm still waiting to see what that can do for me and my ministry that facebook isn't already doing.

I'm still exploring ways that social media can benefit the ministry of my small church. I'd love to hear how other churches--especially smaller churches--are using social media to help them carry out their mission.

General Assembly Reflections

I did not find many opportunities to blog at the Assembly. I was up every night past midnight as it was. Now, I am at home, having ended my time by enjoying yesterday's closing concert, and going out to dinner at a restaurant that had "So Cal Fish Tacos" ... but no churros.
I was impressed that this year's Assembly, with its theme of "For the Healing of the Nations," really encouraged participants to do God's work beyond our church (and convention center) walls. In fact, the Assembly itself modeled this. On Saturday night, there was an interfaith prayer vigil following the evening's worship. General Assembly participants were joined by a diverse group of religious leaders from the community to pray for a solution to this country's problematic and unjust health care system.

Then on Sunday afternoon, the Assembly concluded with a closing concert and communion service to which the whole community was invited. I don't know how successful the effort to welcome the surrounding community was, but I appreciated the model this presented as a way for us to be more welcoming churches in our own communities.
There was an effort this year to be a "green" assembly, which included sending out information on a CD format instead of the usual paper docket. Unfortunately, this resulted in a lot of people not knowing what was going on--and announcements during the assembly were few and far between. It was a good first attempt to use less paper, and I'm sure future assemblies will improve in this area.
Highlights for me included Sharon Watkins' State of the Church address, as well as her sermon during Friday night's worship. (I hope that the State of the Church video is made available online or through DVDs!) The music was spectacular, although I particularly enjoyed the band ImPerfect, a group of youth, several of whom I've counseled at summer camp.
Finally, one thing new about this assembly for me was tweeting. Tweeters were active at the assembly, posting over 1,000 tweets (which can be found on twitter by using the #ccdoc hashtag). I haven't yet figured how tweeting can benefit ministry, but at times tweeting and reading tweets during business sessions felt like a high-tech version of passing notes in class: fun, in a somewhat irreverent and subversive way. At least it kept the business sessions from being too boring!
News from this year's General Assembly can be found at the DisciplesWorld website. Videos from the worship services are available at the General Assembly website. The next General Assembly will take place in summer, 2011, in Nashville, Tennessee.
Update: I just noticed that I (or rather, my "twitter identity") got mentioned in this article about tweeting at the assembly...