What's the Problem With the Church?

1. We’re fighting an uphill battle against decline. Being the church today is hard. This is the problem that amplifies all the other problems. Since we’re not being propped by the culture like we used to be (thank God!) we actually have to get our hands dirty and push that rock up that hill. Ministry takes work and creativity. And a lot of us are tired. Worn out by working harder for less results. 

2. We’re using outdated tools. Our churches often mirror the bureaucracy of non-profit organizations or the least efficient of government agencies. I think we need to pair down our governance model into a simple and nimble series of networks rather than a top down  pseudo-hierarchy. At the local level, our church council oversees the bulk of the ministry. But we also have ministries that function and thrive with very little oversight: Stephen Ministry, ChristCare, and Creative Fingers (quilters) leap to mind.

Another example is Christian Education: is our present classroom format the best way to teach the faith? Is learning doctrine the most effective means of building disciples of Jesus? I dunno. I’m just asking.

Perhaps we need to ask ourselves if our current institutional model, born and baptized in Christendom is the best way to meet our current -post-Christendom ministry objectives. Especially when we’re experiencing so much decline, when resources are dwindling, when fewer people are doing the bulk of the work. If we truly believe that God’s kingdom is an alternate reality running loose in the world, doesn’t how we organize ourselves need to reflect that reality?

3. We blame our synodical and national leaders for our local failures. I have a great deal of admiration and affection for Bishops Ron and Susan. They are both gifts to the church and have a great deal of faithfulness to their positions. But I also know that they can’t do my job for me. As the pastor, I’m accountable to Christ and the congregation. Too often I hear some colleagues blame our leaders for the decline we’re experiencing, when our leaders have little to no involvement in the day-to-day work of the church. If we’re being ineffective in ministry we have to look at what WE can do to make our ministry more effective. The best ministry happens at the local level, where normal, everyday, Christians live out their faith.

4. We spend too much time worrying about what other churches are doing. In other words, we spend too much energy on church politics. Non-church people (or most church folks) don’t care about who is fighting with whom, or what a church across town or on the other side of the country is doing. They care about their local church and how they can minister to others. It’s the church leaders who get their people all riled up and involved with wider church issues that will never touch the grassroots.

5. We look to the past rather than to the future for our inspiration and hope. As Christians, we believe in the resurrection of the dead - God’s New Creation - springing forth in the world. We are a people who live our lives with the end in mind; the end, not as a pie-in-the-sky disembodied heavenly existence, but an end where God will make all things new. 

This is not to say that we don’t remember with thanks what God has done in the past, and draw inspiration from the saints who have passed on the faith. But we are a resurrection people, a people whose eyes are fixed on God’s horizon, where justice, mercy, peace, compassion, healing, and forgiveness blossom over everything God has created. And we live our lives as people of that kingdom.

Tomorrow: What’s RIGHT with the church.

Why NALC Doesn't Bother Me: Part Two (or Why I have Hope)

Yesterday I said that the newly formed North American Lutheran Church (NALC) doesn’t bother me for two reasons:

1. The new church body doesn’t affect my ministry at all. It’s not even on peoples’ radar screens, and I have no real interest in putting it there. 

2. God has not given up on the ELCIC.

Today, I’m going to talk about Number Two.

I’ve been distressed by some of the rhetoric from some of the NALC supporters and sympathizers who say that they have no hope for the ELCIC. Some have even gone so far as to say that the Holy Spirit has left our church. Such an assertion flirts dangerously with the unforgivable sin.

Let’s say for the sake of argument that the ELCIC has deviated from God’s will. Find me someone who hasn’t. Present to me someone who hasn’t sinned or continues to sin knowingly or unknowingly. Give me the phone number of someone who has found favour with God outside of the cross and resurrection of Jesus.

To say that there is no hope for the ELCIC is to say that the Holy Spirit no longer the “Lord, the giver of life” who "calls, gathers, enlightens, and makes us holy.” It is to say that Jesus didn’t die for ALL sins, that we have to rid ourselves of sin in order to receive God’s continued favour, that there is no total forgiveness or renewal for those who are in Christ. 

Personally, I see great hope for the ELCIC. I see God’s activity everywhere. Good Shepherd’s youth group just came back from CLAY, the Canadian Lutheran Anglican Youth Gathering in London. And they came back fired up in their faith. If these young people are our present and future, then our present and future is in excellent hands.

But I also have hope because I believe in a God who raised Jesus from the dead. I believe in a God who is still making all things new. I believe in a God whose kingdom of love, mercy, justice, compassion, and grace is growing all around us.

And God still calls us sinful ELCIC Lutherans into ministry to a suffering, broken, and sin-stained world. Not as those who have all the answers or are made of stronger spiritual substance. But as those beggars who know where to find the bread of life.

That’s why I have hope.

Why NALC Doesn't Bother Me

There would gave been a time when the creation of the North American Lutheran Church (NALC) would have given me heart palpitations. I would have groaned about the schismatic nature of a newly formed Lutheran denomination; and waxed on about how churches formed in protest tend to create a culture of dissension that permeates the whole organization’s DNA. Any protestant should know this.

But now I realize that, in my little corner of Christianity, the creation of a new Lutheran body creates mild interest in me, and nothing more. Mainly because I’ve found that the exit of some Lutheran congregations from the ELCA and ELCIC to the new NALC (or CALC or LCMC or...) affects my congregation not at all. Worship, programs, education, Stephen Ministry, ChristCare, etc, remain unaffected. We keep on keeping on.

That’s the joy of being a Lutheran. We are autonomous congregations bound together in a somewhat free association. If a pastor in - say - Edmonton (won’t mention any names) presides over a same-sex blessing, I might be affected in a guilt by association sort of way by those who worry about such things. But I’ll also be  lumped in with the LCC pastor who preaches that women shouldn’t have leadership positions in the church. The non-Christian world doesn’t sit still long enough to make distinctions among Lutherans.

Which is why I find the whole NALC affair so interesting. To my mind, the premise of the newly created Lutheran denomination is that the ELCA (and to a lessor extent the ELCIC) have deviated from traditional, biblical norms, especially around sexuality.

This is an argument that will never be settled.

But what witness does the creation of a new Lutheran body bear except to re-affirm in some peoples’ minds that Christians are a squabbling mass of malcontents. And when they (we) can’t agree among themselves as to their core message, why should anyone else listen to them (us)?

However, I’m guessing that NALC’s purpose is to bear witness to other Lutherans rather than to the world. Because the world doesn’t care about the intra-ecclesial battles over theology and sexuality. The creation of a NALC will not necessarily advance the Kingdom of God. An unbelieving world isn’t impressed with affirmations of traditional doctrine.

This is because the most effective evangelism happens at ground level. People come to faith by person-to-person contact when they hear and experience God’s love through a family of believers - the Body of Christ.

This is why I’m not too worried about the creation of NALC. I don’t agree that this sounds the death-knell of the ELCIC. Even if NALC takes the majority of our churches with them the cause of the gospel will go forward. People will still hear Jesus’ message of new and everlasting life, and will receive the sacraments of new creation.

This may take different form. But God has not given up on us. And never will.

Sermon: Pentecost 14C

NB: With help from Willimon's Pulpit Resource and a Globe and Mail article.


“Be present at our table Lord,” s a prayer we usually sing before church meals. It’s a nice, familiar, song, that adds some reverence to our gathering. Especially when we have some good singers who can add four-part harmony. We pray that Jesus will be present as we gather to eat.

But is that really wise? Do we REALLY want Jesus present at our meal? Do we REALLY want Jesus to come to dinner?

Just look what happens when the Pharisee invites Jesus to eat at his house. Considering that Jesus just finished a series of blistering attacks on the Pharisees, such an invitation for to eat supper at the Pharisee’s house might have seemed to be quite gracious. Perhaps the Pharisee was extending at hand to Jesus after all those fights. Maybe the Pharisee was hoping to mend some fences between the official religious establishment and the wandering, upstart preacher, from the sticks.

But the Pharisee soon learned that when you invite Jesus to dinner, you do so at your own peril. The first thing he does is insult those at his table. He makes fun of them. He notes that they all jockeyed for the best seats, “Those who build themselves up will be pushed down, and those who are down will be built up.”

Then Jesus points out...(whole thing here)

Sermon: Pentecost 12C

Text:


One required seminary course was called “Conflict Management.” It looks like the folks putting together the seminary curriculum had been around churches long enough to know that Christians don’t always get along. And so we were taken through techniques and scenarios on how to “manage” conflict, rather than “resolve” conflict.

To be honest, I still don’t understand the distinction between “managing” conflict and “resolving it.” But either way, the idea is that human beings will fight with each other. And Christians aren’t exempt from conflict. Perhaps we’re more prone to it. After all, we take our lead from Jesus, who said in today’s gospel:

“Do you think that I’ve come to bring peace to the earth!?? NO I tell you. Not peace, but division!”

Not peace. but division. 

That’s not the kind of talk we expect from the prince of peace, is it? Peace is what the angels proclaimed the night you he was born. Peace is what Jesus is known for. 

Clearly, Jesus was upset about something. He even pointed out that he’s under a lot of stress before his mission - or baptism - is completed.

That’s a curious way of talking about his job on earth, don’t you think? Jesus calls his ministry his...(whole thing here)

Sermon: Pentecost 11C

NB: With a little help from Willimon's Pulpit Resource.

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

I don’t know what you hear in this passage, but sometimes such promises increase my blood pressure. Mainly because of the second half of Jesus’ statement:

“Sell your possessions and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

No doubt Jesus is right. We spend money on things that are important to us. All spending is emotional spending. It comes from the heart, not from the mind. It’s not rational. No matter how much we tell ourselves otherwise. And I’d rather not have Jesus poking around in the most personal areas of my life.

I’m reminded of this passage each month when my credit card bill arrives. I dutifully check each item to make sure that there’s nothing on there that shouldn’t be. Or that I wasn’t charged twice when Amazon.ca made me click two times to make complete my transaction.

I don’t know if this happens to you, but every couple of months I’m surprised by where I’ve put my treasure. I’m staggered by some of the stuff I’ve purchased after sober reality kicked in. But I know, at the time, such purchases must have seemed like good ideas.

A subscription to a magazine that I could easily flip through at the library. The extra book that will give me free shipping, but which might not get around to reading any time soon. The organic olive oil in the fancy bottle to give my little cubby-hole of an apartment some semblance of class. And a few other items that shall remain...um....private.

They were all emotional purchases. I handed over my treasure to where my heart was. 

And Jesus clearly tells us...(whole thing here)

Book Review: Your Church is too Small

Your Church is Too Small

John H. Armstrong

My first response after realizing this book, Your Church is Too Small, was about Christian unity was: where has John H. Armstrong been for the last fifty years? He talks about ecumenism as if it’s a new idea. And, maybe, for him and the evangelicals that make up his church community, churches working together in common mission is a novel approach.

But for us mainline churches, who’ve been part of larger ecumenical organizations such as the World Council of Churches, and it’s national expressions, Christian unity has been almost an article of faith, and for many of the biblical reasons Armstrong outlines in his book.

A petty part of me wants an apology before endorsing this book. An apology, on behalf of every evangelical who called mainline churches heretics for their call for Christian unity, and for every preacher who equated the ecumenical movement with the anti-Christ’s one world church as an arm of an impending one world government.

While I don’t know if Armstrong shared these opinions of ecumenical Christians in the past, he writes as if Christians haven’t yet explored how to work together for the cause of the gospel. But the absence of such a discussion is troubling.

What I liked about the book was his solid exegesis. He didn’t have to root around scripture to find evidence of God’s call to unity. It was lying in plain sight. And Armstrong makes ample use of biblical examples to buttress his argument.

For me, this book was nothing new. In fact, it kind of irked me. But that’s my baggage. 

But for those looking for a thoughtful reflection on Christian unity in today’s church, Your Church is Too Small provides an excellent entry point.

Then, when you’re finished reading this book, pick up After Our Likeness: The Church As the Image of the Trinity for a deeper exploration.

NB: Book has been provided courtesy of Graf-Martin Communications, Inc. Available now at your favourite bookseller.

Funeral Sermon

NB: I don't usually post funeral sermons but a lot of people have asked for a copy. Plus I'm sure Dorothy wouldn't mind.

Psalm 22

It’s hard to imagine a world and a church without Dorothy, isn’t it? Like most of you I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact she’s died. After all, she’s been around this church since the beginning. She’s one of the signatories on the papers making Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd an official congregation. She helped build this church. 

And some of you knew Dorothy from before your involvement at Good Shepherd or outside the church. You knew her from around town, or from the various other places she lived. 

And whether you knew her from church or not, she was the same Dorothy. And she commanded respect from everyone she met.

Many of us know her from her reading of Psalm 22 - from the recording we just heard. Her particular reading of this psalm every Maundy Thursday as we strip the altar in preparation for Good Friday has transcended mere tradition and eased into the realm of being an institution. 

Psalm 22 on Maundy Thursday was Dorothy’s terrain. And she took this responsibility seriously. No matter how many years she read it or how familiar the psalm was to her, she always took the big bible home during holy week to practice. She wanted the words planted firmly in her mouth so she could speak God’s Word with expression and integrity. 

Each year she get up behind the pulpit, pause, look out into the congregation, slightly furrow her brow, breathe deeply, and say:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Of course, I can’t read it the same way that Dorothy could. Very few people can. Most of us lack the gravitas that comes with the life experience that make those words so tragically real. Many of us aren’t able to know what that opening phrase really means. We haven’t experienced them. At least not as deeply as others have.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Those words from psalm 22, as many of us know, were among the last words Jesus uttered from the cross. And it has puzzled people as to what he meant by them ever since. How could God’s only Son, the Word made Flesh, the image of the invisible God, feel like God had forsaken him? Wouldn’t such a declaration demonstrate a weak faith? Would quoting the first lines from this psalm betray a heavy hopelessness, a sense of being actively abandoned by God, a disturbing suggestion that God might - and does - leave us alone when we need God the most.

It sounds like desperation, the cry of someone proclaiming the hopelessness of life. 

So, some of you might object and say, “This psalm is not Dorothy. She wouldn’t spend her time complaining about what she doesn’t have. She wouldn’t waste her energy whining about how cruel the world was. Dorothy wouldn’t worry about what others thought of her. She lived life on her own terms. She set her own standards. She was a strong, independent woman. She was NOT weak and helpless.  

“Dorothy knew what life was and what life wasn’t. The words from this psalm would not have come from Dorothy, even though she went through tough times. Hopelessness was not part of her make-up. Helpless she was not.”

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” No, that’s not the Dorothy I know.

Or maybe, those words from the psalmist gave voice to what Dorothy couldn’t say herself. She read this psalm with too much personal expression for the words not to be her own. 

It’s as if she knew in bones what those words meant for her. She knew that life could be hard. She didn’t expect life to be fair. Her eyes were wide open to challenges and hardships. She knew pain and tragedy. 

Despite her considerable strength of character, she read these words with too much authenticity for them not to ring true somewhere in the quietness of her heart; hidden in her darker moments:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

But she didn’t finish the psalm there either in church or in life. She read through to the end of the psalm. She knew that beyond the psalm’s beginning; the cries of pain, the laments, the grievances, the injustices, she, like the psalmist, ultimately trusted in God’s promises for a new and better tomorrow. She never gave up on a world that she knew that God loved. She never gave up on God or on others. 

“I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you: you who fear the Lord, praise him!”

This is where Dorothy’s story and God’s story connect. She knew that God was found among people; in the midst of the congregation. She knew that we can’t be Christians without each other. That we need one another to grow, to be challenged, to be comforted. 

She knew that living a life that mattered meant living a life in praise to God and in service to others. She knew that in praise and service she touched God’s future. She was a living promise to how God would finally fulfill all of God’s promises.

“To God, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth bow down; before God shall bow all who go down to the dust, and I shall live for God. Posterity will serve God; future generations will be told about the Lord, and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that God has done it.”

That was the final word for Dorothy. A word that looked not to the past, but into the future. Dorothy had a deep sense of what could be. 

She never lost her vision of the future, and the future was always filled with good things. She expected tomorrow to be better than today. She could see that God was still creating a world that was new and beautiful. And she wanted to be a part of that new and beautiful world. 

She once complained to me that our church too often settles for second best. That we think that, somehow, we don’t deserve what other churches have, or what we have in our houses. That our church can be, to use a cliche, penny wise and pound foolish. That we worry about the cost of things without considering its value.

What she seemed to want from us and from our church was to remember and know that we ARE valued, that we ARE loved, that each one of us here is chosen for good things in this world. 

There may be times when we cry out the words at the beginning of the psalm, but, at the end, God will bring about the new and promised future; and we can look to that future with hope, we can proclaim God’s kingdom of love with our lives. That was Dorothy’s life’s message. That was the faith that sustained her.

Today, Dorothy can see that her faith has not been in vain. She has made it to the end of the psalm. She in basking in God’s future, she is resting in God’s shade tending the flowers that grow around the tree of life, she is singing God’s praise in the midst the great congregation, she is worshipping with all the families of the nations.

So, it looks like this psalm is Dorothy after all. Like Jesus on the cross taking on the sin and brokenness of the world, crying out the first words of the psalm on humanity’s behalf, but also looking forward to God’s resurrection future, Dorothy finishes the psalm with Jesus in a swirl of triumph, proclaiming the goodness and faithfulness of God, from the midst of pain and death into the glorious resurrection that comes to all God’s people - and indeed, the whole world.

May this be so among us. Amen. 

Sermon: Pentecost 8C

Today’s gospel sounds like a good summer passage, doesn’t it? Jesus telling Martha not to work so hard, and encouraging Mary to sit at his feet, relaxing, taking in his teaching.

It’s like a spiritual day at the beach. 

In today’s over-scheduled, under-joyed lifestyle, it seems like a good message. Take a break. Don’t work so hard. Relax once in a while. Put your feet up. Take a vacation. 

But do we really need to come to church to hear this message? You can simply turn to the Lifestyle section of the newspaper, or browse the self-help aisle at Chapters. What’s next to come from Jesus, exercise and eat your veggies?

We don’t need God’s only Son, the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him,” As we heard in Colossians this morning, to tell us that we spend too much time at work and not enough time with the kids. We can just turn on Dr. Phil for this homespun wisdom.

So, there must be something else going on. Jesus doesn’t usually waste his time telling people what they already know. And Jesus certainly wasn’t interested in our affluence-induced stress-filledl lives.

Jesus was interested in making disciples, and this was...(whole thing here)

Sermon Pentecost 7C

(NB: With help from Willimon's Pulpit Resource)

Sometimes people ask me, “Do you think Muslims will go to Hell?” It doesn’t have to be Muslims each time the question is asked. You can fill in the blank with any faith group that’s not Christian. Or even non-faith groups like professed atheists. 

At it’s heart is the question of judgment. Who will God judge? And maybe by extension, who can WE Christians judge.

I don’t think that question is very biblical. When God is in a judgmental mood, God’s most intense condemnation isn’t for Muslims or atheists, or anyone else those outside the faith. In the bible, God’s saves the most severe judgment for those who seem closest to God: Israel, the church. Especially church leaders.

Today’s gospel, popularly known as “The Good Samaritan” but really should be called “the bad pastor.” The pastor, who ought to be in the business of helping people, passes by the man in the ditch. There is judgment in the story. It’s subtle. But everyone know who Jesus is talking about.

Judgment begins with God’s own house, say the prophets. This happens when we get too high on ourselves, thinking that to be part of God’s people means to be - somehow - better than others.

For those paying attention you might have noticed...(Whole thing here)

Sermon: Pentecost 6C

“Go on your way,” Jesus tells his followers,  “See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road....”

Those 70 followers of Jesus may have listened to his instructions but very few have ever since. And those who do follow Jesus the way he instructs are either labelled “insane” or declared a “saint.” 

It’s as if we either feel in our membrane that these instructions are impossible, or we don’t really believe that these instructions are for us today. 

They are left in the first century when being a disciple of Jesus was new and exciting. But that excitement has long since settled into the dust of the centuries that have risen and fallen.

In fact, it was during those 20 centuries that Christians actively abandoned these instructions from Jesus. Ignored what Jesus told them to do because it wasn’t what THEY wanted to do. Christians forgot that we were - somehow - different.

Instead of being sent - going out TO people, Christians put down roots and called people to THEM. Instead of travelling light, depending on the power and grace of God to heal the sick and raise the dead, Christians grabbed political power and confusing it with God’s power, establishing personal and institutional empires. Instead of building a people, Christians built buildings - cathedrals - while people around them starved both for food and for God.

Creating empires of the self is a hard habit to break. And we have become unwitting heirs to their legacy. 

We read this passage and interpret it as if ...(whole thing here)

Energy and Renewal

I have more energy these days. A LOT more energy. And because I have more energy, I’m more productive (I finished the first draft of my sermon this morning) I wish I could point to one reason why this is, but there are many factors.

But the bottom line is: this what I can do when I’m not depressed.

As many of you know I separated from my wife last November. And I knew I was emotionally depleted, but I figured that a few days in the gym per week and my daily green smoothie would help.

It didn’t. Around the beginning of Lent I fell into a deep depression. The worst of my life. I worked minimal hours, just getting the basics done. Then I’d spend a lot of time in bed. I’d spend time with the girls, but would sit them in front of the TV. I stopped reading. I couldn’t concentrate. Life sucked.

One day around Easter I stayed in bed until 3:25 pm. The only reason I got dressed was because I had to pick my daughter up from school and obviously couldn’t abandon her. That’s when I realized I needed help. So I made an appointment with a counsellor.

He was awesome. He recommended the book Feeling Good by David Burns, and it opened my eyes to what I was experiencing and have me the tools to facilitate my healing. After two months (or so) of hard work I found that my energy had returned and I could see the world differently. My sense of self gained strength and could see new possibilities for the future.

I’ve since returned to the gym and started a healthy eating program. Some parishioners and friends have offered incentives (I’m REALLY looking forward to losing the first 10 pounds!) and so I feel like my life is finally coming back together. It feels like I’m creating my life rather than reacting to life as it’s happening to me. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I have some semblance of control.

Ministry has become a joy again. I feel like my old - but renewed - self.

That’s why I can write two sermons in one morning. But I’m sure the green smoothies play a part.