Repetition and Routine: God's gracious blessings on a tired pastor

As my alarm sounded at 7:30 am yesterday morning, I was face down on couch cushions in the middle of Fellowship Hall after about 1 hour and 45 minutes of sleep. It sort of felt like someone had exchanged my insides for concrete. Rising from my position required a herculean effort on my part. As I changed my clothes and directed the students on cleaning up their messes, my brain kept repeating the same desperate phrase:

you just need to make it until 1:00

you just need to make it until 1:00

At one o'clock, I could head home and curl up on the couch and nap. I've never been great at losing sleep, and the older I get, the less able I am to function on less than 5 hours of sleep. I plopped down with the students in worship at 8:45 feeling lethargic, groggy, and fogged. I felt conscious that I had brought sleepy teenagers to worship who might not really get anything out of the service, who might be too tired to really take in something new from the sermon.

If it feels this bad, why on earth do you do it?

Theories among youth directors on Lock-Ins vary greatly. Some folks structure activities from the moment students arrive until the moment students go home, leaving no room for sleep. Some folks have kids in bed by 11 pm. Some see the purpose of Lock-Ins as a time for retreat and prayer; some see the purpose as a bonding experience; still others see it as a way of making the church a safe place. Adults simply dread Lock-Ins. Whether you go to bed at 11 pm or 5 am, if you're an adult, you're not getting a ton of sleep curled up in a sleeping bag on the cold floor of your church. It's not easy, and some churches simply don't do it anymore.

And yet we here at Unity do it. We do it because these are the memories that students will take with them for a lifetime (I still have fond memories and stories of Lock-Ins when I was in high school). We do it because in the middle of the night when you're setting up camp in a church, subsisting off of pizza, mountain dew, oreos, and potato chips, there's some strange bond that occurs within the youth group that truly cannot be created anywhere else. We do it because when students sleep over at our church, suddenly this sterile, cold building becomes a second home, filled with familiarity and comfort.

I subscribe to a lot of  theories, and I have particular tricks to help make a Lock-In not the worst thing in the world. Here are my top 5:

#5: Lock-In's should be approximately 14 hours in length.

I've seen and been a part of churches that had Lock-In's for 24 hours, with activities all night and all day. I can't sign up for this insanity, and I can't expect my volunteers to sign up for it either. I think a Lock-In should be about 14 hours, from 6:00pm to 8:00am, usually. This is just about the maximum I can ask of adults, and it also results in the minimal amount of body odor, which trust me, can be a major issue. Also, whether your students sleep or not, they will be cranky by lunchtime on day 2. They will be irrational and any positive experiences you want them to have will be obstructed by the overwhelming blanket of grouch that will inevitably envelop them. You don't want that because it creates negative associations with the church, and it inhibits any spiritual teaching you were trying to do.

#4: The amount of sleep should be appropriate to the age group.

And the situation. What you want is a positive memorable experience for the group. This means you never want them to get to the point of tiredness when they are cranky while they are in the church (see #5). So, if the Lock-In precedes another event, we sleep. If we're kicking their butts out at 9am before they can get sufficiently irritable, we do not sleep. Middle schoolers always get some sleep; high schoolers want the rush of staying up. 

#3:  Minimize the mess; do a thorough job of cleaning up.

After about 1:00am at a Lock-In, I consolidate all activities to one room or one level of the church. This helps to wind down the energy in the room (so that even if you have to be awake at 5:00 am, at least you can be dozing or staring at a wall instead of running around playing zombie apocalypse for the 500th time). In the morning, I have them clean up the space very thoroughly. This gets them moving keeping them from the crankiness, and it helps to prove to the people who clean and use the church building who are over the age of 30 that we can do fun things but still respect the building and the community.

#2: Literally, clear your schedule for the next 3 days.

While I can force myself to stay awake all night with  a constant flow of coffee and mountain dew, it takes me several days to get back into a normal sleeping and waking pattern again. It's like my body is filled with lead. As I left the house on Sunday afternoon to come back to the church for Middle School Youth Group, I stood for a few minutes pressing the "lock" button on my Toyota key while staring at my apartment door, wondering why it wasn't beeping to let me know it was locked. After about 30 seconds of this, I realized I needed to lock the door with the key to the apartment. These types of mental mishaps are commonplace post-Lock-In. 

#1: Acceptance

Fact is, I know this is gonna hurt real bad for me, but it's going to be amazing for my students. When I was a senior, I painted the toenails of one of the guys while he slept at a Lock-In, only to wake up the next morning to a sharpie mustache drawn across my face. To this day, I laugh about that time, and the culprit of the face art who lives in California also laughs, remembering how embarrassing it was for him to ask his sister to get the nail-polish off his toes. I'll never forget one night when it snowed in Pittsburgh and we were literally snowed in; we made snow angels and snowmen, and the entire night was impromptu fun. I'll never forget spending time in silence, reading scripture and praising God at 1:00 am at a Lock-In. No matter how tired I am for the next several days, it's worth it. No matter how off my diet I become because of the constant flow of Mountain Dew, it's worth it. No matter how difficult it is to nail down adults for the event, it's worth it. These are the types of events that kids are going to remember and which will keep them coming back for years to come. It is this type of event that leaves a lasting legacy and builds a lasting community.

So back to worship...

It was after the sermon, and I was feeling sheepishly guilty. I had tried with all my might to keep my eyes open and pay attention to the sermon, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I had missed some things. I also know that there's almost nothing worse as a preacher to look out at closed eyes and glazed looks, knowing that regardless of what you say, your words are whispering winds this morning. After the sermon, we stood to recite the Apostles Creed. I began to utter the words without looking at my bulletin, and I found that the rhythmic repetition was soothing. There was something about repeating this creed, and later about repeating the Lord's Prayer, and even singing the Doxology, that struck me on a primal level. Even as tired and empty as I was on Sunday morning, these repetitive actions that we do each week grounded me in worship. Perhaps the sermon and prayers had a smaller effect on me than they normally would have; perhaps I struggled to keep my eyes open; perhaps I felt a sense of melancholy as I would have rather been in bed. But somehow through repetition and tradition, worship was not lost on me.

When we recite our prayers, we join in the communion of saints, all the believers who came before us and all who come after us. Knowing that Christians have been reciting the Apostle's Creed since at least 400 AD. That's more that 1,600 years of people saying these words, in many languages, in many nations, in many towns and cities and buildings and communities. If the creed were only recited once per week from 400 AD until now, it would have been recited roughly 84,032 times. As I stand to recite that prayer on Sunday morning, I don't need my own strength or creativity, I don't even need to be fully awake. Rather, as my hungry, worn out spirit stands to praise God, I can rely on the 1600 years of saints reciting the creed more than 84, 032 times to carry my burden, to carry me to the cross, to carry me to Christ.

I am reminded of the paralyzed man. 

3 Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them.4 Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. 5 When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man, “Son, your sins are forgiven."

Mark 2.3-5

When we come to the well, but we are so dry we can't even lift our heads to take a drink, the family of God pours the water in our mouths. When we come to our God, but we cannot pull ourselves into the door, the family of God carries us in. When we come to God, but the world is too crowded for us to come in, the family of God makes a hole in the ceiling and lays us down at the feet of our Lord. This is the joy and beauty of traditional worship: we are always connected to the larger church, to the saints who came before us and who will come after us, to the great cloud of witnesses who hold us up when we cannot do it ourselves. When we come to worship and we are riding the struggle bus, I pray that we might allow the traditions and repetitions of our worship to meet us in our most raw and rugged selves, that we might be lifted up into the graceful presence of Jesus Christ.

Some resources:

Rachel Held Evans on Millenials and tradition

Some info on the Communion of Saints

A Spirit of Unity

Sunday was a really long day for me. I started my day at 6:00am as I made breakfast and watched Frozen with our friends' children who stayed with us for the weekend. We munched on cereal and played with George Hairyson, the new kitten who has found his forever home with Alex and me. I then came to the church for Child of the Covenant Sunday. We celebrated at both services the more than 93 baptisms that have occurred in the past 5 years at Unity, and we reaffirmed all of our baptisms by passing around small bowls of water. I also preached my first sermon as Rev.

 

 

 

After worship, it was straight into Pasta Night preparations, the fundraiser put on by our high school youth. There we served more than 200 meals, and students shared a skit and testimonies of their own faith journeys. It went smoothly, and wonderfully, bringing in over $2500 for our high school summer trips.

 

 

From there, I came home, read a story, put the kiddos to bed, and sat down with my hubby with our freshly filled ballots to enjoy the Golden Globe Awards (each year, we place a fill out a ballot for the Golden Globes and the Oscars. The one with fewer correct answers pays for the next date night...I won for the first time this weekend.). Lots of people were looking forward to Ricky Gervais as host due to his crass and unapologetic humor, and normally I enjoy the banter that celebrities toss at one another throughout an event such as this. However, I found myself rather disappointed with Mr. Gervais. The comedy was simple and trivial, poking fun at minorities, old age, and differences in a way that was not intelligent or humorous. Instead, he kind of came off as a bully who did not prepare for his job. Very disappointing.

 

 

{source}

 

Division and Discord

The Golden Globes served for me as a reminder of just exactly how tragic the society we live in can be right now. We live in a polarizing time. When Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton are the front-runners for the next presidency, both of whom seem to only have one turn-signal working in their car, we know that people passionately sit on one side of the wall or the other, and there is no interaction between the sides. The jokes floated by the Golden Globes poked fun at people because of their differences: Mel Gibson for bigoted ways that he spoke years ago, Kevin Hart for being short, Eddie Redmayne for playing a woman, Caitlyn Jenner for being transgender...and the list goes on and on. Differences, errors, insecurities, and disabilities: jokes made to make us feel different from one another, to make one way feel superior than others. It's difficult to feel "American" anymore because...well, there doesn't seem to be one meaning for that word.

 

This permeates our churches as well. A few weeks ago, I asked some of our high school youth if they feel comfortable living out their faith in their everyday lives. The response was that they didn't want to be like the "Baptists" who are always asking people if they've been saved; but they also didn't want to be like the "Young Life" kids who go to Young Life but party on the weekends. They didn't really fall into either extreme, so it was difficult to find a place. When I was interviewing for positions at churches prior to this one, I was asked my opinions on controversial issues, like homosexuality and racism, before I was asked anything about my qualifications at some interviews. It was refreshing to make it through 3 interviews here at Unity before I was asked informally my opinions on some of these issues in a way that invited conversation.

 

Something tells me that the Kingdom of Heaven won't be one-sided or argumentative. Something tells me this polarization isn't something that God desires for us.

 

We can do better...we ARE DOING better.

I was immensely grateful as I laid my head down on Sunday evening, not only because I could finally get a little bit of sleep, but because I didn't have to take Ricky Gervais at his word. Although I ended my day with a show that highlighted difference and discord, I spent a day watching unity take place.

 

In worship, we celebrated baptism and in-so doing, we celebrated our adoption into the family of God, into the family here at Unity. It was heart-warming to watch children, youth, families, older people, people with disabilities, conservatives, liberals, people of different races and ethnic backgrounds - all God's people were celebrating their unity to one another in spite of difference. All God's people brought together by the Holy Spirit because of their differences and the ways that those differences make us stronger.

 

At Pasta Night, one older couple in their 80s walked in, and spent about 10 minutes chatting to the group of high school youth checking off reservations at the door. They laughed loudly and inquired about each other's families. It was beautiful to behold. Throughout the room, multiple generations of people gathered and interacted joyfully with one another, treating each other with kindness and respect, in spite of obviously life differences.

 

This, my friends, is the Spirit of unity -the Holy Spirit at work to bring people together-, and indeed the spirit of Unity - an essential characteristic that makes Unity Presbyterian Church unique and special. I love this about us, and I look forward to witnessing this Spirit more and more.

 

I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

Wait for the Lord. Be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord.

Psalm 27.13-14

 

 

 



 

New Resolutions, Old Commitments: Giving Teens The Tools to Experience Church

As winter break comes to a close and 2016 opens a new chapter, we find ourselves falling back into routines and patterns. We carefully plot out our calendars for school and work and recreation. We begin planning trips and vacations. And inevitably, we resolve to attend church more often, to get back into the swing of things at Unity. In the 4+ months that I have been here at Unity, it seems I have a weekly conversation that goes something like this:

 

"My teen does not want to come to worship. He finds it boring and I have to fight with him to go. What can I do?"

 

"My teenager would rather sleep in than go to church. I worry that she isn't taking it seriously. What can I do?"

 

"When I take my kids to church, they will do anything to avoid paying attention. They are doodling and writing notes and they go to the bathroom 6 times. I don't know what to do."

 

"My teenager says that other kids go to a church where they can wear jeans and hear guitar music. I am having trouble coming up with excuses as to why we can't go to that church."

 

{source}

 

 

Well, friends, this post is for you. My prayer is that together, we can find a way to make worship a family-oriented activity and one that all generations find meaning in. Here are my top 5 tips for giving teenagers the tools to experience church.

 

#1: Use the Force like a Jedi, not a Sith

There are lots of blogs and articles online about whether or not it is a good idea to force your children and teenagers to attend worship; you can probably go right or wrong in both choices. I personally was given the choice to opt out of church beginning in 7th grade, and I ended up coming back by my own choice as a junior in high school. My husband was required to attend church with his family. We both have pursued our faith as adults and have strong love for the church.

 

{source}

 

I would say two things about the Force. First, we live in a world where children and youth have a tremendous amount of autonomy, perhaps more than ever in history. Through technology, children and youth have more decision-making power than certainly I did as a child, and I'm sure you as well. If I wanted to talk with a friend on the phone, I had to use the family phone; it was very difficult to talk to people without my family knowing. I certainly didn't have my own camera, let alone the ability to post photos of myself or others onto the internet (come to think of it, the internet was still dial-up when I was in high school). This poses a problem to the family system because we have to learn how to have autonomous minors living under the same roof. It can be difficult to force kids to do things when they feel more independent than perhaps we'd even like them to be. Part of the reason some teens struggle with church is simply the fact that it was not their choice in the first place. For what it's worth, I still think it's important for teenagers to do things that they didn't select because it teaches us lessons about always getting what we want; there is certainly merit in establishing boundaries and concretely saying that church is a family-mandatory activity.

 

At the same time, we must recognize that part of teenage development is teaching them what it means to long for spiritual development. This means that we give kids the tools to choose church for themselves rather than giving them the answers. A great example of this occurred in Confirmation Class recently. I did a lesson on "predestination" or the belief that God has elected people for salvation before the dawn of creation and elected others for damnation. Some Presbyterians believe that there are only a few of us who are saved and many who are not; other Presbyterians believe that all people are saved. Both are legitimate Presbyterian beliefs. As we discussed this, some of the class sided one way or the other while others wanted to think about it more. In faith, I can't tell them which way is correct, but I can give them the tools to decide for themselves. I believe we can encourage our teens to attend church with their families in such a way that gives them a voice and the ability to decide for themselves what they need, what they connect to, what they are missing, and what they want for themselves spiritually.

 

#2: Prioritizing the Weekend

One of the main reasons teens don't want to attend worship is the fact that they are jipped out of another day of sleeping in. They may even have other friends who are able to sleep until 10 or 11 on Sundays. I recently witnessed a debate among teens over who had slept in the latest (it was 6pm, guys...6pm). I often hear adults saying in so many ways that this is a lame excuse.

 

However, there is some truth to this complaint. The National Sleep Association indicates that teenagers need 8-10 hours of sleep per night, and they often experience shifts in their sleeping patterns due to hormonal changes. It is somewhat natural for teens to want to stay up late and sleep in. (source)

 

{source}

 

I can't speak for you and your family, but I can speak for my own at a young age. As a teenager, the priority for my weekends were as follows: 1. sleepovers 2. marching band competitions 3. family events 4. homework (on Sunday night at 9pm) and 5. Steelers football. And my family certainly never prioritized church either. We would have family events or marching band competitions or parties on Saturday nights until 11 or 12 at night, maybe later. Then to turn around and get up by 8:00am for church on Sunday morning became that much more difficult. Are we giving ourselves enough sleep in order to be fresh on Sunday mornings? Do we consider our worship pattern in order to determine our weekend activities? Or do we consider our weekend activities in order to determine our church participation? Certainly, there are weeks when life just simply gets in the way of attending worship, and we all understand that. But when we are trying to squeeze church into a jam-packed weekend, we might be setting ourselves up for failure when it comes to how our teens experience that service.

 

#3:  Identify the ACTUAL Problem

Teenagers have about a million and a half excuses for not wanting to go to church: I'm too tired, I don't understand it, my friends aren't there, it's lame. More than half of these reasons are covers for more underlying issues, and it's important for us to hear the complaints of teens and to try to find more ways of treating the problem rather than the symptom.

 

The issue might be completely unrelated to the actual worship service as well. Growing up, my dad would make pancakes and bacon every Sunday morning. It was our family breakfast. On one Sunday, I had eaten my breakfast after I'd put on my Sunday clothes and my Dad took me to Sunday School. When I arrived, kids in my class teased me for smelling like bacon. One kid even said, "Dude, you smell like a Burger King!" Not exactly what every 13 year old girl wants to hear. I begged my family not to send me back to Sunday School because I didn't want to be teased again, but I couldn't use the excuse of smelling like breakfast because I didn't want to hurt my dad's feelings, as he'd labored over breakfast. You might not be able to find the complete reason, and chances are your teenager might not even know why, but you have a better chance of fixing the problem if we can identify its roots.

 

#4: Boredom = Lack of Engagement

 

The most common reason for not wanting to attend church is that "church is boring." This is a difficult reason to combat for a couple of reasons: 1. It is likely a reason that covers up another reason. 2. It's extremely vague. 3. It's not something you can easily fix. 4. Admittedly, it might be something you experience yourself.

 

When a student is bored, it could mean many things, but it always means they are not engaged in the content of worship. If they find organ music boring, it does not automatically mean that Patsy had an off week or the hymns are 500 years old; it means that there is something missing in the communication between the organ music and the youth. Perhaps the lyrics of they hymn include words we don't use often anymore, like Ebenezer or fortress, and the teen doesn't know what this means. Perhaps the tune is unfamiliar and hard to follow.

 

We worship in a tradition that is hundreds of years old. In fact, if you open up John Calvin's Institutes written in the 1500s, and you look at the Order of Worship he established, you might be surprised to find that it is very similar to the bulletins of our most recent worship service. Without understanding, a 500 year old worship service can seem intimidating and inaccessible from a teenage brain. If this is a complaint you have heard from your teen, I encourage you to look at the worship service together and think through which parts you find boring and think about why. Do you find the sermon boring? Is it because the content is not applicable? Or is it because you struggle to pay attention? Do you dislike repetition? Is it because the repetition causes you to zone out? Or is it because you got it the first time and don't need to repeat it?

 

{source}

 

Learning about why we do what we do and what we can gain out of each part of worship can help us to engage, even if it's not our cup of tea. For example, there are many hymns that I find boring because I've sung them approximately 3 million times. I have taken to singing the harmonies for these hymns instead of the melodies because it engages my brain and helps me think more about the lyrics than I had been previously. If it would be helpful for you all, I can put together Worship Worksheets to help students and families talk about the worship service together and figure out how to worship more effectively.

 

#5: Know that it's normal...

The bottom line is that is normal and actually developmentally POSITIVE for teenagers to question why it is they go to church. In fact, teenagers and young adults question all the parts of their lives to figure out why they do what they do. They experience things and decide what they value and what they do not. They try out new styles with their clothing and hair, effectively questioning which ones express who they are most effectively. We embrace these experiments and support them. It is the same with their faith: students need to be free to try things and talk things through, to process them and learn what feeds them and what doesn't, what they like and what they don't. Just because a kid doesn't want to go to worship on a Sunday morning in January 2016 doesn't mean that they are missing the message or will not return. Faith is a process, an honest and challenging process, that we are all struggling to figure out; teenagers are no exception.

 

 

My prayer this week is for a new revival to begin within families, that we might explore together in 2016 what it means for us to be church-goers, how we are fed spiritually, and what works for us and what does not.

 

Some resources...

 A blog from a Christian mom

 

A really honest and passionate blog from a mom

 

Anne Lammott: a pretty legit story

Little Lord Jesus, [No] crying he makes...

A few weeks ago, New York Daily News dropped a bomb on the American public with this cover:

 

{source}

 

The headline is a response to the social media storm that inevitably follows any act of terror or disaster: it seems obligatory for each of us to type out a status of "praying for victims of [name-that-shooting/disaster]." The headline and corresponding article point the finger at politicians [particularly conservative politicians, even though all politicians have a penchant for posting prayers...], indicating that God isn't answering prayers because politicians aren't taking action.

 

I was watching the Today show, eating my breakfast with my husband, when this headline was plastered across our TV screen. I was filled with multiple emotions, knowing that both sides of the argument would represent God in an ethereal, genie-in-a-bottle type way. I felt dread, knowing the responses would be trite and simplistic. I felt disappointment in the way that the world views our God. I know that I am late to the table on this debate; the explosion of debate and heated arguments flooded the internet for the next several days and fizzled as quickly as it arose. But for those of us who follow an incarnational, intimate God and believe in the power of intercessory prayer, this is not an issue that burns itself out nor is it one we can afford to ignore.

 

I was in third grade when the Oklahoma City bombing occurred. I remember writing some kind of essay about it, and I can remember my teacher expressing sympathy in our class for the victims and their families. I can remember people talking about getting justice and the death penalty. It was scary and sad. It was on the news, and we prayed for victims at church on Sunday morning. My family talked about it because my dad's original birth certificate was destroyed in it.

 

{source}

 

I was in 7th grade when the shooting at Columbine occurred. This time it felt personal. Our junior high felt insecure and unsafe; a few impish kids tried copycat threats, by bringing small knives or unloaded weapons to school. Groups met in the counselor's office and my Social Studies teacher created a plan in case it should ever happen in our school. I can remember feeling a lot of fear and a lot of sadness. I felt bad for the victims, but I also felt bad for the perpetrators. At the time, we heard they had been bullied, and we were taught to reconsider the way we treated others in our classes. Again, it was all over the news, but I didn't go to church that Sunday. I don't know if churches prayed for the victims, and if I prayed, I prayed for myself and my school and my fear.

 

{source}

 

 

I was in 10th grade when terrorists hit the Twin Towers on 9/11. I vividly remember the line down the hall for the pay phones, and I remember one girl clinging to the pay phone sobbing. We learned later that a family member of hers had been killed in the attacks. This was news like nothing we had ever experienced; the TV was entirely immersed in images from the day, and politicians made vows to retaliate, to declare war on terrorism, in short, to do something. It was one of the only Sundays of my time in high school when my family went to church. The pastor asked us to take off our watches because we needed time to be with God after this tragedy. He then proceeded to preach for an hour, during which he placed the blame for the attacks on liberals, sinners, homosexuals, and divorced people alike. I felt angry and hollow. I couldn't understand this God who punishes seemingly at random, who causes terror and violence. If I prayed beyond that, I prayed for my mom, who worked in a skyscraper in Pittsburgh, and again for my fear.

 

{source}

 

It wasn't until the shooting at Virginia Tech, that I first experienced a social media explosion in response to terror. I was a junior in college. Facebook was 2 years old, and it was primarily a site for college students. The culture of 20-somethings reigned on Facebook. Virginia Tech was scary because I went to a small liberal arts college in New Wilmington, PA with very little security and a hospital that was 30 minutes away. It was scary because girls I had gone to high school with were on the campus when it happened, and it was hard to get in touch with them. It was scary because, as a student I depended on my university for safety and security; there was very little that I could do to prevent an attack, and there was nothing I could do to ease the pain of those suffering. People posted black ribbons for Virgina Tech and said, "Prayers for Virginia Tech."

 

 

{source}

 

 

I can remember this burning feeling of being helpless, of wanting to do something. I can remember downloading that ribbon and creating my Facebook post. I can remember feeling like I did something, like I was a part of a larger movement of compassion. Because of social media, I could do something from the comfort and security of my own dorm room; because of Facebook, I could do something without doing anything at all.

 

Of course, it wasn't like I did nothing. My elementary Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Schwartz, would take our prayer requests, and she would ask us to pray for her as she struggled with diabetes, which ultimately would take her life. Mrs. Schwartz would say, "There is nothing more hurtful than telling someone you will pray for them and then neglect to do so. You are making them a promise that you will bring them to God; you are compelled to make good on that promise." Along with many others, I truly did lift the victims in my prayers, this time feeling a deeper sense of compassion than ever before. And I prayed for myself, for my fear and the fear of my fellow students.

 

{source}

 

Fast forward several years to the Newtown massacre. For me, the harm of a child is as appallingly painful as it gets. I cannot even watch the ending of the Dark Knight because Harvey Dent points a gun in the direction of a small child. The tragedy of Newtown was more than I could emotionally bear. Although the pastor at our church expressed anger, grief, and pain from the pulpit on Sunday morning, it wasn't enough to satiate my grief. Again, the internet was flooded with prayers for the victims, but this time, I did not feel united to others in grief. I felt bitter and cynical; how many of these people actually prayed for these victims? How many of them pray any other time of year? The sentiments, however well-intentioned, felt hollow, routine, and even callous. I must not have been the only one who felt this way because the political response on Facebook was more pronounced than I had seen before. Suddenly, my entire friend-list is an expert on gun-control laws and mental illness; where my 10th grade pastor blamed 9/11 on homosexuals and sinners, my Facebook  feed blamed Newton on every person who owns a gun and untreated schizophrenia. Perhaps worse was the flood of memes which quoted Mr. Rogers:

 

{source}

 

As though looking at the silver lining could somehow make the tragedy lessen. As though the good being done could somehow outweigh the vastness of the evil.

 

And so it has continued with every tragedy since: we respond with prayer, trite popular sayings, and assignment of blame. We do all of this because tragedy pushes us into what sociologists call "anome" or a state of being when the traditional rules of our world are turned upside down. All of our lives, we are taught that the good-guys win and we live in a safe, secure country; in tragedy, we learn that the bad-guys sometimes make a larger mark on the world than the good guys, and sense of security is a false one. We respond because doing nothing feels miserable and makes us vulnerable to our fear. Our prayers, our quotations, our blame - all of it is an expression of our overwhelming fear. This my friends, is the exact desired effect of those who terrorize; every time we give in to our fears, we submit to the power of those who terrorize. Perhaps new gun legislation or mental health care would make a difference in our country. Perhaps the helpers are examples of what humans can do when we are faced with deep adversity. Perhaps we say earnest and honest prayers to God for what has happened. None of these, in my estimation, are the answers we seek. None of these, as far as I can tell, would eradicate the fear we feel.

 

So...Jesus...

So all of this brings us back to where we started. Is God really not fixing this? Does God hear the prayers being offered up on social media, by politicians and civilians, by believers and non-believers alike? In Christmas, God gives us his answer: God gives us Jesus, who is Emmanuel, which means God. with. us.

 

"She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

"Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

and they shall name him,

Emmanuel"

which means, God is with us.

Matthew 1.21-23

 

God became flesh and dwelt among us in the person of Jesus Christ; God continues to be present with us by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a simple truth, and yet one that we struggle to appreciate or understand. In fact, God is with us, God is on earth right now, working for good in the world and bringing about his Kingdom on earth.

 

And many people have pointed out that in fact these "helpers" described by Mr. Rogers are the Holy Spirit at work right now. Their actions of kindness and compassion are the acts of God in a weary world. Sure. I can buy that. But it's not enough.

 

Many others have pointed out that God has called us into action through the Holy Spirit. That it isn't God who should be fixing this, but we, who can lobby for our political agendas and create legislation to prevent further gun violence. Sure. I can buy that. But it's not enough.

 

We know it's not enough because as painful as it was to read the words, "God isn't fixing this," on a newspaper, we Christians felt extra pain because it felt far too true.

 

God's answer...

I in no way claim to have some special knowledge of how God is fixing this or responding to our prayers. But I do believe in a God who reveals God's self through scripture, and displays for us that God is not in the business of granting wishes like a genie or leaving the people of the world to their own devices for solutions. God is in the business of answering prayer in God's own time and God's own way. When I say that, I don't mean that God has a reason for senseless violence; and I don't mean that God needed another angel because he doesn't; and I don't mean that God is waiting for us to get our act together before God acts. What I mean is two things:

 

God always has a message of hope

 

When the Israelites cried out while they were slaves in Egypt, God was moved by their cries.

 

When Elijah is persecuted and hiding in the wilderness, God comes to him and speaks to him in a still small voice.

 

When the Jews go into exile and cry out to their God, God leaves the temple and comes to them by the rivers of Babylon.

 

When the people cried out for a king to save them from exile, God sent them a messiah in the form of Jesus.

 

When the thief repents of his sin on the cross next to Jesus, Jesus tells him that he will be in paradise.

 

The most common phrase in all of scripture is, "Do not be afraid." It is a message shared by God and angels alike when they meet people for extraordinary conversation. We are a people drenched in fear, suffocated by terror, consumed with anxiety. God has a message of hope for us, that even in our deep fear, God brings us calm and peace, both internally and externally. I don't know what God is doing to fix the violence in our nation, but I can say with certainty that God's message to let go of fear rings as true today as it did in the Old Testament. When we pray, God is not just a star upon whom we make a wish for peace and lack of violence; rather God is a friend, a confidant, a caring parent. We can confess our fear; we can invite the Holy Spirit to overpower the spirit of fear in the world.

 

God rarely does what is expected.

 

I have no doubt that God is at work, but I strongly doubt that God will act in the ways we expect. God is sort of famous for turning the world upside down and doing things in a different way than we expect.

 

When God brings the Israelites out of slavery, he leads them into the desert instead of the promised land.

 

When God selected a king for Israel, he chose the smallest boy in Jesse's family, David, and made an everlasting covenant with him.

 

When there was a plot within the Assyrian government to get rid of the Jews, God sent an attractive young woman named Esther to save the country.

 

When the Jewish people in exile cried out for a new political regime, God sent a messiah, born in a stable.

 

When the Jewish people found the messiah in Jesus Christ, he didn't overthrow the Roman Empire. Instead, he lived in poverty, ate with sinners, ridiculed the religious leaders, and was put to death on a cross.

 

When Jesus died, the disciples thought all was lost, but God surprised them by defeating death through the resurrection.

 

 

Little Lord Jesus, [no] crying he makes...

On Christmas Eve, Dan spoke in his sermon about how we often imagine a baby Jesus who is calm and quiet, with no crying or fussiness. Dan described baby Jesus as being like any other baby, coming into the world with cry of life, and that Jesus to this day cries for our world. I love this image.

 

{source}

 

As we greet Christmas in a world that is broken and grieving, I hope that we do pray. I hope that we lift our fear, our anxiety, our helplessness to our God, who weeps with us, who gives us hope, and who does a new and unexpected thing. In a culture that is accustomed to immediate answers and wishes granted, we do not feel comfortable waiting and we act to assuage our own fears. Let us sit in discomfort and follow the God who acts, perhaps unexpectedly. Above all, may we believe, truly, that God is living and dwelling among us and is at work in the world today.

 

Some other articles you might like

some political stuff

 

more political stuff

 

a sort of decent Christian response

 

 

Longest Night, Brightest Light

Every year at this time, the old annual debate comes out over whether we ought to greet one another with "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." To the point where these memes come forward:

 

{source}

 

 

{source }

 

 

We Christians want ownership over the winter holiday season; we long for the days gone by when Christmas overwhelmed all of society and brought people together. We believe in our heart of hearts the Jesus came to bring peace on earth, and if folks would accept the Christmas spirit into their lives, this would make for a better more peaceful society. Our intentions are, primarily, good.

 

In truth, the history of Christmas reveals that we did not invent the season. For millennia, not just generations, not just centuries, not even just a thousand years, but for millennia societies have been celebrating a holiday during this the second to last week of December. When Christianity took hold in the Roman Empire, the celebration of Christmas replaced Saturnalia, an entirely pagan holiday.

 

It is entirely on purpose that Christians chose the Winter Solstice to celebrate the birth of the Messiah. The Winter Solstice is the time at which the earth leans furthest away from the sun, and we resultantly receive the shortest amount of daylight and the longest night of the year.

 

As I write this blog, the weather here in Fort Mill could not be cooperating in a better way. It is gloomy, dark, and rainy - a perfect reminder that today in fact we celebrate the Winter Solstice, meaning the longest night of the year occurred last night.

 

We are a people shrouded in the darkness of winter, and it can take its toll. The darkness and the frenzy and the gloom of the weather can contribute to our downtrodden moods, and we are reminded of sour memories, loved ones no longer with us, and ongoing troubles. I am humorously reminded of the Sunday Night Live sketch in which Dana Carvey sings to the tune of Carol of the Bells, "Leave me alone, just go away, I'm doing fine, just go away."

 

{source }

 

This sketch was so successful because it was a humorous display of sadly accurate truth. The darkness of winter seeps into our bones and builds barriers in our relationships. And in a world full of divorce, debt, war, violence, and illness, we are a people who are familiar with the darkness of winter, with the longest night, with the gloom of despair. People all around the world feel the darkness of our planet; it is an essential truth of this time of year. In a morose way, we are drawn together by our mutual shade.

 

The light in the darkness...

 

This darkness is why Christians 1500 years ago chose to celebrate the birth of Messiah at this time. The gospel of John begins in this way:

 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

 

The darkness. These words speak to me at this time of year because the Solstice brings with it the gloom of darkness. In Pittsburgh, we have 300 cloudy days per year. Yes, that's right 300 {you can see I flew south...}. This time of year marks the gloomiest time of year for many cities, and today, it marks us in Fort Mill.

 

It seems to me that I have read this passage hundreds of times, but the image of darkness in my mind was always something simple. My childhood friends and I used to play a game called "Darkman" when we would turn the lights off in a room and play tag. The darkness brought thrill and excitement, and there was always the safety of being able to turn on the light.

 

True darkness is another matter. Years ago, I had the opportunity to go spelunking with a group of college students. The leader brought us to one of the larger caverns in the cave and then instructed us to turn off our head lamps. The darkness that followed was different than anything else I had ever experienced. It was thick, inky, and smothering. You couldn't see shadows or shades or even your own hand in front of you. No, the darkness was absolute.

 

This darkness will occasionally spread its shade across our souls. In loss, in anxiety, in disease, in a lack of hope - we are acquainted with this kind of darkness, and we do our best to cast light on it or suppress it.

 

Yet scripture here reminds us that Jesus is the light which shines into that darkness, the light which penetrates the thick darkness, which brings form and substance to the world around us. This absolute darkness may well exist, but the absolute light of Jesus Christ overcomes it. In just a few short days, we will read this scripture at our Christmas Eve services and utilize many symbols to remind us of the light of Christ bursting into the darkness. I can see nothing more appropriate than celebrating the return of light into a dark and weary world as nature itself does the same thing.

 

Individuals all over the world today are celebrating the sunrise after the longest night, knowing that the sun, the light brings hope for a brighter tomorrow, literally. Thousands of people gathered at Stonehenge last night to greet the sun as it rose after the long night. We too will gather on Thursday to greet a different kind of Son, who brings a different kind of light.

 

 

My prayer...

 

 

My prayer for us today is that we would approach this holiday season as people of the light, people who bring light where there is darkness, rather than people who contribute to darkness with cynical thoughts and angry words. I pray that we might care less about what holiday each person is celebrating and care more about the revelation of the light in new and different ways in a broken and weary world. I pray that along with Christians who recognize the light as Jesus and those who acknowledge the light in a different way, we would receive the light into the world with open arms and allow it to illuminate for us the hope, joy, peace, and love that the world so desperately needs.

 

I wish each and every one of you the happiest of Christmas holidays, and I pray that you would indeed experience the light of Christ in this dark winter time.

 

 

 

Here's some info on the Winter Solstice:

 

Everything You Need to Know

 

Some Interesting Science

 

A Methodist Longest Night Worship Service

 

 

 

When Christmas plans aren't perfect....

There's a holiday commercial out right now that strikes me every time:

The commercial has a double message: that virtually everything a person could need for the Christmas holiday can be found at Big Lots, and that the matron of the family is responsible for the success of the Christmas holiday. The mom here has a perfectly decorated house, perfectly selected gifs, a manicured image...all of the things we worry about.

It is the season of the year when there are hundreds of things to worry about and attempt to perfect. We want to make sure that our kids have the perfect Christmas experience, enough gifts to make them happy and filled with gratitude but not so much that they are spoiled. We hope they make it to enough church events to remember the true meaning of Christmas. Our homes need to be decorated and cleaned, especially if guests are coming through, and/or travel plans need to be carefully crafted.

The stress isn't just familial. Being on church staff during the month of December means extra hours, work, and anxiety. December always brings extra visitors, which means this might be our one chance to tell the good news of Jesus Christ. We try to walk this line between the story of Jesus' birth and the celebration of American culture at Christmastime. It is difficult.

As a perfectionist, this is the time of year when I go into crazy-town mode. I want every event to be filled with Christmas joy and perfectly executed. I want each person to leave Unity feeling uplifted and invigorated, knowing that Jesus wasn't just born on Christmas but is alive each day within us. 

Inevitably, in my time working in churches when I have gotten over-controlling or extra perfectionist about particular events, I come down with some illness which knocks me out of commission and ultimately humbles me. Sunday afternoon I came home feeling not great, and by 3:00 I was completely out of commission with a 101 degree fever, body aches, and lungs that felt like the desert. I missed caroling, which I had carefully planned; I spent a couple of days laying on the couch, missing out on the literal tons of work I need to do. While I would never say that God made me sick, I can certainly say that I was reminded this week that whether I put in 10 hours or 100 hours into planning Christmas Eve worship or the Christmas Party or any such event, the event will happen anyway. And chances are people's experience of the event aren't necessarily intertwined with my ability to make it perfect. In fact, some of the things that happen so imperfectly end up being most important. Contrary to the Big Lots commercial, Christmas is very capable of coming without me, and in fact often does a better job at presenting itself when I am not trying to make it Lindsay-mas.

Think about Jesus' birth...

So let's think about the story of Jesus' birth. We have Mary and Joseph who are engaged to be married. They are young and afraid; suddenly Mary ends up being pregnant, something that was not socially acceptable. We note that this is so startling that Joseph even tries to get out of it (Matthew 1). Not exactly how we'd expect the Messiah to enter the world. Not a perfect entrance.

Then we get to the actual birth of Jesus, which happens in Bethlehem, not their home town of Nazareth. They travel to Bethlehem for census. And not only that, but Mary gives birth to Jesus in an unhygienic, uncomfortable stable surrounded by barn animals. I mean, this was messy and painful, and it could have ended really badly, considering the challenges women and children faced in the child-bearing process at the time. When we really think about what the birth of Jesus must have been like, it is not glamorous, not glittery, nothing to sing about. It's not what we would have planned or expected.

And so we see that the birth Jesus did not exactly go how most people expected it to go. Yes, the angels and the wise men show up later and give some glamour to the occasion, but it starts out humble, challenging, and strikingly imperfect.

Joy in the imperfection...

And that is just the sticking point for me: this ridiculously imperfect, humble event, which includes doubt, questions of fidelity within a relationship, a lonely, messy, painful birth process in the outdoors...this is how God chooses to enter the world.

As a helpless baby.
Through risky birth.
Through controversial conception.

If God didn't need the first Christmas to be glamorous or perfect, then our Christmas doesn't need ours to be either. For me, letting go of perfection is a challenge I have not yet figured out exactly how to do, other than to ask for forgiveness every time I cling to perfection when I should not. It is difficult to say to myself that the perfect Christmas gifts, the perfect Christmas decorations, the immaculate Christmas cookies, and the exquisite Christmas feast are all side notes, are all trivial, because I thrive on the challenge of making a perfect day {maybe it's the Clark Griswold in me, who knows}. So as Christmastime closes in, I am trying to focus on letting go of the pressure to get my Christmas shopping done and my special treats baked and packaged. Even if I don't get my act together, Christmas will come, and the memories it makes will be surrounded by love, by the Holy Spirit in our midst, and by the joy of being around friends and family.

So I challenge us as we get into crunch time before Christmas to seek the joy that can only be found when we give up our perfect plans and give into the plans God has for our Christmas and our time with our families. I challenge us to let go of the pressure of perfection and pursue the joy of God's imperfect entrance into the world.

Forced Christmas Joy: a tale of the church's weird aversion to Christmas

A few months ago, Pasty, our organist/choir director, bounced into my office (if you've ever met Patsy, you know she literally bounced in her energetic little way, into my office) and asked if I'd be willing to work on the Christmas Joy Service. This service has the children's choirs and perhaps some youth leadership, and it happens on December 6. "And this is all Christmas," she said, "We don't try to contain them to Advent, it's just Christmas."

 

The more I spoke with other pastors I know about our Christmas Joy Service, the more I began to hear words of "you sold out" and "Isn't it terrible how Advent has been forgotten?" My Facebook feed is flooded with memes like this:

 

{source }

 

 

{source }

 

 

{source }

 

 

In the Church, we take particular care to telling the story of Jesus' birth and taking Advent seriously. We really want to get it right; we really want the birth of Jesus to be new and exciting and important. I would even go so far as to say that some of us even feel resentful toward the Christmas hullabaloo with the greed associated with Santa Claus and the surveillance of his creepy Elf on the Shelf. Advent/Christmas activities at the church are given the same priority to other Christmas traditions like decorating the family tree, visiting Santa Claus at the mall, and watching Charlie Brown's Christmas: the church isn't more important; the story of Jesus is just one more fairy tale contributing to the special "magic" of Christmas.

 

And this isn't just 21st century crazy Christian angst. The church calendar and traditions center around Advent in its truest sense. Advent comes from the Latin words ad and venio. Venio means "to come" and ad means "to/toward." So Advent is when we celebrate the coming to us of Jesus Christ; it is a season characteristically associated with waiting for the coming birth of Christ. Advent is the first four weeks of the church calendar year; We begin in the Old Testament with the preparation for and prophecy about the coming messiah's birth. Scripture prepares for the birth of Christ, and so should we. With something as big as Jesus coming into the world, we emphasize the waiting and the watching and the preparing.

 

We read the prophets who tell us of Christ's prophecy.

 

We read about John the Baptist and his preparation for the way.

 

We read about Mary's acceptance of God's call and the Holy Conception.

 

We read about Joseph's initial denial and eventual faith.

 

We refrain from Christmas carols, we light one candle at a time, we even talk about how the Christ child hasn't come yet.

 

There's just one minor problem with all of this...

Er, I hate to break it to you, but Jesus DID COME. God became flesh more than 2,000 years ago. And he remains active in the world through the power of the Holy Spirit. In other words, we're asking fully grown adults to suspend their disbelief and contain their Christmas joy until after our extremely solemn Christmas Eve service, and then you can have 24 hours of cheer far away from the Church. Sure, we will occasionally throw a Christmas party or a caroling event, but when it comes to worship during the Christmas season, we are like a Jack-in-the-Box winding up, waiting to spring into joyful action at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve.

 

Sure, I understand: this is all a part of how we celebrate the same event over and over again each year. I understand that we need to have some preparations in our hearts for the magnanimous event of Christ's birth. Certainly, I understand that we are a people of ritual, who need to be reminded every year of the influence of Jesus Christ and the transformation of our lives.

 

But I have a few challenges. First, because we focus on the story of Jesus' birth as though it were a mythical story, like the Night Before Christmas, we cast ourselves into the same light as Santa, Elf on the Shelf, and Rudolf: as simple children's stories that teach us to be good and buy gifts for other people because it will make us feel better. When we treat the story of Jesus' birth as something that happens in the past, we've made it irrelevant to the world today.

 

Second, because Jesus is already alive, the story becomes old news faster than the birth of Kanye and Kim Kardashian's second child {Saint West...I ask you...}. Rather than take on the solemnity of Advent and the devotional practice of waiting, many of us simply check out of Advent. It seems more and more like the church is out of touch with reality.

 

Finally, why can't our waiting be joyful? For some reason, it feels as though the church is attempting to dictate our emotions: OK, on this Sunday, you should feel a sense of reverent peace. Throughout Lent, you should be absolutely miserable and self-loathing. But on Christmas Day and Easter morning, you should be filled to the gills with joy.

 

And for me personally, that is the most difficult part of Christmas: I can't feel anything when I'm being told to feel a particular way. The Christmas season in the world perpetually tells us to be joyful, to be grateful, to be anxious, to be charitable. Meanwhile, the winter season reminds me of many loved ones I've lost over the years, and I feel sad for them. This will be my first Christmas away from family, and I am sad for that, but also excited. I find joy in baking Christmas cookies and listening to carols and decorating our tree, but it is fleeting, quickly replaced by anxiety or a belly-ache.

 

I propose that Advent brings about a renewed sense of quest: a quest for joy that can only come through Jesus Christ, not from eggnog, presents, or decorations. If Christ is present in the world by the power of the Holy Spirit, why can't we celebrate his birth every day? Why can't we be filled with joy each and every time we see God at work in the world around us? Instead of our endless to-do list in the Christmas season, why can't we pursue an Advent quest of discovering Christ's new life within us and our lives each day?

 

If we are seeking Christ in the holiday season, if we are submitting ourselves to discipleship to Christ, if we are discovering Christ's presence in our midst, then we are discovering true joy. True joy that is not replaced quickly by a belly ache or by credit card bills or by loneliness; a joy that fills us from bottom to top, that changes our lifestyles and uproots us from our monotonous lives. The birth of the messiah, the Word become flesh, the incarnation of God: this is worth celebrating, it's worth getting joyful and excited over because it keeps happening. It happens again when we see people serving one another; it happens again when we sacrifice our own benefits for the benefits of others; it happens when we lay aside our anxiety at the foot of the cross so that we can bravely follow God into a new place.

 

On Sunday, those of us who were there experienced truly the joy of Christ in our midst as we sang together, prayed together, and celebrated new life. It was a perfectly joyful affair, and it inspired me to be a more committed servant of Christ.

 

This week, I challenge us to lay aside our burdens of anxiety and grief and our fake joy found in Santa and cookies. I challenge us to give those things the time of day they deserve and move on to the all-consuming quest for Jesus Christ in our midst. I challenge us to be grateful for the exciting task of finding the Holy Spirit at work and to embrace the quest with joy and excitement.

 

Here's some resources

 

This is an awesome blog post about turning our fear to hope

 

25 Things I Want My Kids To Know About Christmas

 

A quck blog about celebrating advent