Below, I am going to republish some posts that I wrote between October and December of 2010. The posts are three in a series on "church and the economy."
The reason I am reposting this series is that I realized I have been cited in the current print edition of "UU World Magazine," from part 1 of the series, and I want to put all those posts together in one space on the front page of the blog so they are easier to find.
I do plan to continue writing posts to this series. When I do that, I will change the dates on the posts such that they remain clumped together, in order starting with post 1 and going down through later posts. I hope that is helpful.
Thanks for reading! And I hope you'll leave comments. The underlying goal I have for this blog is to engage in an interesting conversation, which means that my goal is only met when this is a dialogue.
See below...
Called
Musings on Religious Leadership
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
On Economy and Church: Part 1 (originally posted 10/2010)
Here are some of my observations:
1. The economy is still on shaky ground. I am far from alone in questioning whether the economy is sustainable. I still find the following link really interesting, even if I don't agree with a lot of what is on the website, and I hope others will as well (it is over 3 hours, but soooo worth the time and extremely thought-provoking): http://www.chrismartenson.com/crashcourse. I especially find it interesting that I watched these videos long before the election of President Obama, and I am witnessing the predictions of his actions, as our next president, come to fruition, as I now believe they would have with either a democrat or republican in the White House.
2. If the above is true, that there is a fair chance that the economy is not sustainable, then our churches need to prepare to see our communities through some rough seas ahead. Many of our churches as they exist now could not survive those seas themselves.
3. Currently, environmental activists and fiscal conservatives are seen as warring parties. Bridges need to be built between the reality that economic resources as we currently know them are not going to be available forever, and perhaps not even in the near future, and the reality that our use of those resources to date has been tremendously destructive to our shared home, the earth, and that this also is a threat to us and our children.
4. One advantage of the economic difficulties of the last several years is that many actions toward sustainability became more mainstream. I don't have research to back it up, but I have a good feeling waste levels on the individual plane have been reduced. At the same time, however, because sustainability is currently a largely individual or small group action, in order to survive, many families had to resort to environmentally harmful and economically unsustainable action.
For example, Americans benefit from what is seen as a highly efficient agricultural system and food manufacturing and shipping system. The prices we pay for food do not reflect the food's ultimate cost, to the environment, our health, and so forth. However, our entire sense of the cost of living is built around the availability of this system. People own the houses that they can afford because of this system.
The shaky foundation underneath it all, as the environmental and health costs are more and more visible, however, is also contributing to initial signs of breakdown. Food prices have been driven up and up from what was comfortable for the majority five or six years ago. Those of us who own homes or pay rent based on what we can afford because of a lower cost of food, especially in a time of job loss and jobs at risk, aren't able to keep it all balanced.
Because of the higher cost of food, for instance, my family can't afford to eat anymore except to the extent we shop for the vast majority of what we eat at places like Pricerite (discount grocer shipping food in from all over just like BJs, Costco, or Walmart). With the exception of organic milk, no organics are available. We've thus reduced the organics we eat to "occasional foods" when we can afford local. With the exception of locally prepared pita breads, this is not local food. We've thus reduced our locally grown and prepared food (we couldn't afford even a half share at a CSA this summer) to "occasional foods" (though to our credit, we buy very, very little pre-prepared foods, and cook nearly entirely from scratch). On the individual level we can't afford the sustainable practices that will ultimately save our community.
5. While questioning sustainability is more accepted now than it was even a few years ago, questioning sustainability is not yet seen as mainstream. Those who question sustainability are largely still seen still as alarmists and millenialists. Those who are preparing for a major economic shift are marginalized as if they are preparing for "the end of the world." Even within "green churches," we have not yet reached a tipping point of preparation for a new economic era.
6. The status quo has been maintained just enough that as communities, we have largely been settling back into a place of comfort about things. Economic distress is still high, but the stress levels have been reduced just enough that we aren't questioning the entire system. Even as recently as a few weeks ago, I was still functioning under the illusion that I can hold onto my house that I really need to sell in order to move into a position more sustainable on the individual and community level. I was still thinking I could get a renter and downsize to a small apartment, and that everything might still be okay.
7. One tension: in what might turn out to be a major shift in the entire world economic system, the things that are good for us in the long-run do not feel attainable in the short-run. Just as in my example above regarding the cost of food and the way my own family is surviving on the cheap stuff from the discount grocery outlet, our churches are also finding it difficult or impossible to choose a way of being in the world that is best for the long-run. Our churches have staff people and ministers who need these jobs in an economy where jobs are scarce. These jobs serve an important function for the things that churches do currently, even though those things may not be what is needed to help our communities through the rough seas ahead in the next 10, 20, 30...years.
On the institutional level, we don't know how else to structure ourselves, and we are afraid to make any changes based on predictions of an unknown future because what if those predictions don't turn out to be true? Won't we then just be irrelevant? Major change is needed, but every incentive is toward the maintenance of the status quo (to understand this, please, please take the time to check out the link in observation #1). The chance of popular support for critical changes in our churches seems remote at best.
We look at churches like those of the Rev. Ron Robinson, and we say, "Oh, that looks interesting. What great stuff. I want to support what they are doing. But that is not what my own church's unique identity is all about. That wouldn't fit us at all. I wouldn't feel at home in that church. Here at my own church, we're about Sunday worship..." etc. etc. It's scary to reimagine ourselves. And it's scary to reimagine ourselves in a future that seems uncertain. And it's scary to imagine ourselves taking actions now based on what seem like potentially alarmist predictions, especially when those decisions involve tough issues like the jobs and the position descriptions of good people who have done good, important work and who need jobs in an economically difficult time, and whose current job descriptions make sense to what we feel like we need right now.
1. The economy is still on shaky ground. I am far from alone in questioning whether the economy is sustainable. I still find the following link really interesting, even if I don't agree with a lot of what is on the website, and I hope others will as well (it is over 3 hours, but soooo worth the time and extremely thought-provoking): http://www.chrismartenson.com/crashcourse. I especially find it interesting that I watched these videos long before the election of President Obama, and I am witnessing the predictions of his actions, as our next president, come to fruition, as I now believe they would have with either a democrat or republican in the White House.
2. If the above is true, that there is a fair chance that the economy is not sustainable, then our churches need to prepare to see our communities through some rough seas ahead. Many of our churches as they exist now could not survive those seas themselves.
3. Currently, environmental activists and fiscal conservatives are seen as warring parties. Bridges need to be built between the reality that economic resources as we currently know them are not going to be available forever, and perhaps not even in the near future, and the reality that our use of those resources to date has been tremendously destructive to our shared home, the earth, and that this also is a threat to us and our children.
4. One advantage of the economic difficulties of the last several years is that many actions toward sustainability became more mainstream. I don't have research to back it up, but I have a good feeling waste levels on the individual plane have been reduced. At the same time, however, because sustainability is currently a largely individual or small group action, in order to survive, many families had to resort to environmentally harmful and economically unsustainable action.
For example, Americans benefit from what is seen as a highly efficient agricultural system and food manufacturing and shipping system. The prices we pay for food do not reflect the food's ultimate cost, to the environment, our health, and so forth. However, our entire sense of the cost of living is built around the availability of this system. People own the houses that they can afford because of this system.
The shaky foundation underneath it all, as the environmental and health costs are more and more visible, however, is also contributing to initial signs of breakdown. Food prices have been driven up and up from what was comfortable for the majority five or six years ago. Those of us who own homes or pay rent based on what we can afford because of a lower cost of food, especially in a time of job loss and jobs at risk, aren't able to keep it all balanced.
Because of the higher cost of food, for instance, my family can't afford to eat anymore except to the extent we shop for the vast majority of what we eat at places like Pricerite (discount grocer shipping food in from all over just like BJs, Costco, or Walmart). With the exception of organic milk, no organics are available. We've thus reduced the organics we eat to "occasional foods" when we can afford local. With the exception of locally prepared pita breads, this is not local food. We've thus reduced our locally grown and prepared food (we couldn't afford even a half share at a CSA this summer) to "occasional foods" (though to our credit, we buy very, very little pre-prepared foods, and cook nearly entirely from scratch). On the individual level we can't afford the sustainable practices that will ultimately save our community.
5. While questioning sustainability is more accepted now than it was even a few years ago, questioning sustainability is not yet seen as mainstream. Those who question sustainability are largely still seen still as alarmists and millenialists. Those who are preparing for a major economic shift are marginalized as if they are preparing for "the end of the world." Even within "green churches," we have not yet reached a tipping point of preparation for a new economic era.
6. The status quo has been maintained just enough that as communities, we have largely been settling back into a place of comfort about things. Economic distress is still high, but the stress levels have been reduced just enough that we aren't questioning the entire system. Even as recently as a few weeks ago, I was still functioning under the illusion that I can hold onto my house that I really need to sell in order to move into a position more sustainable on the individual and community level. I was still thinking I could get a renter and downsize to a small apartment, and that everything might still be okay.
7. One tension: in what might turn out to be a major shift in the entire world economic system, the things that are good for us in the long-run do not feel attainable in the short-run. Just as in my example above regarding the cost of food and the way my own family is surviving on the cheap stuff from the discount grocery outlet, our churches are also finding it difficult or impossible to choose a way of being in the world that is best for the long-run. Our churches have staff people and ministers who need these jobs in an economy where jobs are scarce. These jobs serve an important function for the things that churches do currently, even though those things may not be what is needed to help our communities through the rough seas ahead in the next 10, 20, 30...years.
On the institutional level, we don't know how else to structure ourselves, and we are afraid to make any changes based on predictions of an unknown future because what if those predictions don't turn out to be true? Won't we then just be irrelevant? Major change is needed, but every incentive is toward the maintenance of the status quo (to understand this, please, please take the time to check out the link in observation #1). The chance of popular support for critical changes in our churches seems remote at best.
We look at churches like those of the Rev. Ron Robinson, and we say, "Oh, that looks interesting. What great stuff. I want to support what they are doing. But that is not what my own church's unique identity is all about. That wouldn't fit us at all. I wouldn't feel at home in that church. Here at my own church, we're about Sunday worship..." etc. etc. It's scary to reimagine ourselves. And it's scary to reimagine ourselves in a future that seems uncertain. And it's scary to imagine ourselves taking actions now based on what seem like potentially alarmist predictions, especially when those decisions involve tough issues like the jobs and the position descriptions of good people who have done good, important work and who need jobs in an economically difficult time, and whose current job descriptions make sense to what we feel like we need right now.
On Economy and Church: Part 2 (originally posted 11/2010)
Click here for part I of this blog series on economy and church.
In part one of this blog series, I referenced an economic "Crash Course" website. In this post and probably other posts that follow, I am going to include some videos from that site because talking about the economy and church requires a foundational understanding of what is happening economically beyond our awareness that we are still trying to recover from a recession that has been hard to shake, and we're all feeling a little vulnerable and unsure.
I want to say that I recognize that in referencing this particular "Crash Course," I'm using a reference point with some particular assumptions behind it. However, I think the author of the "Crash Course" does a pretty good job at distinguishing between facts, beliefs, and opinions as he states is his goal in the first video. I also think the "Crash Course" is the most accessible explanation and history of the United States economy for non-economists available, which is the primary reason I use it as my reference.
The "Crash Course" website consists of twenty very short videos that are as short as one minute and 46 seconds to no longer than twenty minutes. The entire course is 3 hours and 20 minutes long, and I think this subject is important enough to call upon that length of time, whether by short spurts or sitting down with the videos for an evening.
However, knowing that we need some common information right now on which to base this conversation, I am going to include some of the video segments here and hope that the lack of context won't unnecessarily confuse the issues.
First a couple of the fundamentals of what our congregations are facing in terms of a massively shifting economy. If you don't have a lot of time, and feel pretty confident about your knowledge level regarding assets and debt, I'd say it starts to get most interesting around the eight-minute mark:
I show that video first because those are not unfamiliar economic realities, especially given the economic strains of the last couple of years. Somewhat more vague for most of us are the concepts related to the intersection of energy and economics. It takes "Crash Course" author Chris Martenson seventeen chapters to work up to them, but these concepts may be some of the most important:
Around the five-minute and twenty-second mark in the video above, Chris Martenson makes a particularly heart-wrenching educated prediction. He says: "The status quo will be preserved at all costs. Politicians will hide the truth, economic statistics will become even fuzzier, and central banks will continue to throw more and more money at a system that at its core is out of tune with reality."
I want to stop here for a minute and say that it was in October 2008 when Chris Martenson completed the "Crash Course" series. However, I believe I first was introduced to the series in 2007, before its completion, and only in what seemed like the early phases of the recession. By that time, Mr. Martenson had apparently been giving workshops and working on the course for several years. I've been stunned but unsurprised to watch President Obama, a president who had my vote and who continues to have my general support, do exactly what was predicted in his response to what some call "the great recession." That is, he has maintained the status quo at all costs. Again and again. ("Quantitative easing" anyone?) I do not believe this would have been any different with any other politician in the office, nor do I believe it will be any different with any politician who comes after him.
What we are facing is the possibility of deep change:
My basic question is, if there is even a 50-50 chance that such a change is occurring under our feet, what is our religious and moral call to the people in our congregations, our communities, and the world? Who are we called to be at this turning point in history? And how can we actually survive to live out that call?
In part one of this blog series, I referenced an economic "Crash Course" website. In this post and probably other posts that follow, I am going to include some videos from that site because talking about the economy and church requires a foundational understanding of what is happening economically beyond our awareness that we are still trying to recover from a recession that has been hard to shake, and we're all feeling a little vulnerable and unsure.
I want to say that I recognize that in referencing this particular "Crash Course," I'm using a reference point with some particular assumptions behind it. However, I think the author of the "Crash Course" does a pretty good job at distinguishing between facts, beliefs, and opinions as he states is his goal in the first video. I also think the "Crash Course" is the most accessible explanation and history of the United States economy for non-economists available, which is the primary reason I use it as my reference.
The "Crash Course" website consists of twenty very short videos that are as short as one minute and 46 seconds to no longer than twenty minutes. The entire course is 3 hours and 20 minutes long, and I think this subject is important enough to call upon that length of time, whether by short spurts or sitting down with the videos for an evening.
However, knowing that we need some common information right now on which to base this conversation, I am going to include some of the video segments here and hope that the lack of context won't unnecessarily confuse the issues.
First a couple of the fundamentals of what our congregations are facing in terms of a massively shifting economy. If you don't have a lot of time, and feel pretty confident about your knowledge level regarding assets and debt, I'd say it starts to get most interesting around the eight-minute mark:
I show that video first because those are not unfamiliar economic realities, especially given the economic strains of the last couple of years. Somewhat more vague for most of us are the concepts related to the intersection of energy and economics. It takes "Crash Course" author Chris Martenson seventeen chapters to work up to them, but these concepts may be some of the most important:
Around the five-minute and twenty-second mark in the video above, Chris Martenson makes a particularly heart-wrenching educated prediction. He says: "The status quo will be preserved at all costs. Politicians will hide the truth, economic statistics will become even fuzzier, and central banks will continue to throw more and more money at a system that at its core is out of tune with reality."
I want to stop here for a minute and say that it was in October 2008 when Chris Martenson completed the "Crash Course" series. However, I believe I first was introduced to the series in 2007, before its completion, and only in what seemed like the early phases of the recession. By that time, Mr. Martenson had apparently been giving workshops and working on the course for several years. I've been stunned but unsurprised to watch President Obama, a president who had my vote and who continues to have my general support, do exactly what was predicted in his response to what some call "the great recession." That is, he has maintained the status quo at all costs. Again and again. ("Quantitative easing" anyone?) I do not believe this would have been any different with any other politician in the office, nor do I believe it will be any different with any politician who comes after him.
What we are facing is the possibility of deep change:
My basic question is, if there is even a 50-50 chance that such a change is occurring under our feet, what is our religious and moral call to the people in our congregations, our communities, and the world? Who are we called to be at this turning point in history? And how can we actually survive to live out that call?
On Economy and Church: Part 3 (originally posted 12/2010)
This is part of an ongoing exploration of the economy and church. To see part II, where I cover some fundamentals of American economics and the current American economic condition (some of which may be applicable in some form outside of the United States) click here.
Let's now talk a little about "class."
First, the "knowns." My source(s) here is not a primary source and is six-years-old, by the way, but my blogging practice is to post sources if (1) they are either primary or can be backed up by primary sources if I took the time to do so, and (2) most of what is said in the source still applies at the time I am posting it. Here is some of what we know about class, as outlined in a 2005 New York Times series called "Class Matters." I especially recommend that first full article in the list.
Making our responsibilities even greater, in addition to that, there is an emerging need among a whole new group. This need is found in the middle class folks, especially the lower-middle class folks, who have gotten themselves in over their heads with house payments and so forth that they can't support with post-recession levels of income and inflated costs of living. Even if our country recovers and we can eventually return to the "status quo" (which I questioned in part II of this series), it may very well take years. Though the need is probably less urgent than among the "working class," the suffering is largely silent. The reasons for this include:
If I am right, what does this mean for us as a people of faith?
Let's now talk a little about "class."
First, the "knowns." My source(s) here is not a primary source and is six-years-old, by the way, but my blogging practice is to post sources if (1) they are either primary or can be backed up by primary sources if I took the time to do so, and (2) most of what is said in the source still applies at the time I am posting it. Here is some of what we know about class, as outlined in a 2005 New York Times series called "Class Matters." I especially recommend that first full article in the list.
- There is a class system in the United States.
- The "American Dream" of upward class mobility is more dream than reality.
- Upward class mobility is declining such that my generation became the first generation that will probably and almost uniformly make equal amounts or less than our parents, unlike the generations that have come before us for quite some time.
- The chasm between rich and poor is indeed growing.
- Consumer debt is rampant among all classes. In fact, in some cases it may be how we Americans have tried to equalize ourselves among class levels (just compare average house sizes from 1950 to 2004).
- Lenders have historically preyed on folks in vulnerable positions.
- Across the country, individual rates of debt have far exceeded our rate of savings.
- In many areas of the United States, unemployment is still a big problem.
- Even in places where there are jobs, economic contractions from the recession have not lifted. People who have jobs are often working fewer hours, at lower rates of pay, for fewer benefits, with reduced levels of compensation for costs such as health insurance.
- Despite some loan modifications, for the most part, the great many people who have jobs but who are working fewer hours, at lower rates of pay, for fewer benefits, with reduced levels of compensation still have their pre-recession mortgages or close to pre-recession rental costs. They also have greater health care costs (not only have benefits lowered, but prices have continued to increase). And the cost of food is up. So as a whole, we are trying to stretch less into more.
- Folks are shouldering these burdens on top of their high rates of consumer debt and low rates of savings.
Making our responsibilities even greater, in addition to that, there is an emerging need among a whole new group. This need is found in the middle class folks, especially the lower-middle class folks, who have gotten themselves in over their heads with house payments and so forth that they can't support with post-recession levels of income and inflated costs of living. Even if our country recovers and we can eventually return to the "status quo" (which I questioned in part II of this series), it may very well take years. Though the need is probably less urgent than among the "working class," the suffering is largely silent. The reasons for this include:
- The problem surfaced in part as the result of high debt levels, and people feel ashamed. While high debt levels have never been part of good financial management, the truth is that what seemed to be reasonable debt to the majority of Americans five or six years ago no longer seems reasonable. Consider the mortgages some of us were willing to pay (hey, even me just back in 2007, which is after the "bubble" started to burst).
- Because the issues are so entwined with debt for this particular class level, these are people who are not qualifying for the safety nets available to the "working class." Until they lose their jobs, despite lower incomes than pre-recession and higher costs, they can't get foodstamps, their children don't qualify for free or reduced lunch programs at school, they won't likely receive utility assistance even when the power is turned off or the oil company refuses to deliver, and the food banks may not serve folks from their zip codes.
- A committed, pledging single member or family (with or without children) of your church has bounced checks trying to make a pledge payment.
- Someone you know in a middle class profession is skipping lunch to make sure their kids can have dinner.
- A seemingly middle class family in your church has had the electricity or heat turned off or nearly turned off sometime in the last month, and fears CPS would be called regarding their children if anyone finds out.
- A parent you know in the so-called middle class isn't eating fruits and vegetables (is putting their own nutrition at risk) in order to ensure that produce is available for their children.
- Someone in a middle class neighborhood near you (maybe even your own) is calling the water company to make payment arrangements this month so they can afford to pay enough of the natural gas bill that it won't be turned off. Meanwhile, they haven't paid the phone company in two months and are waiting for the inevitable cancelation notice.
If I am right, what does this mean for us as a people of faith?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Discernment and Call
Lizard Eater has been talking about Group Discernment on her blog. Peter Bowden recently talked about UU Spiritual Gifts and discernment on his blog. And others have been blogging about this kind of stuff recently as well. It got me to thinking, and led me to post this (edited slightly here) as a response to Lizard Eater's questions on her blog:
On the start of my going-to-seminary-to-pursue-ordination journey, I had a whole series of lengthy and numerous conversations with family members, friends, and the ministers (ordained and otherwise) in my life.
Once I got accepted into several seminaries, I held a conference call with a handful of these folks to discuss my next steps. While the decision at the time was less important than that of actually discerning a call (and really was mostly about which seminary was the best fit for where I was in my journey), drawing on the wisdom of a community of folks felt important to me.
When I set up the structure for the conference call, some family members gave me a hard time because I did things like ask folks to leave a minute or two of silence between each person talking. We didn't end up sticking to it exactly, but I feel that just by sharing my hope that we could really hear one another, it created sort of an open, ongoing silent prayer in the conversation that was ultimately important to the level of clarity reached.
In an ideal world, the communal discernment is really what the MFC process would be. I am not confident that's what it is (it may be in part, but I doubt it is in whole), yet I do think it should be. Communal discernment looks, feels, and is much different than gatekeeping, standards-measuring, determining, evaluating, or testing.
For one thing, it has the power to lead to something much more powerful than a "yes" or a "no..." it can lead to a "here's what..."
For UUs, the call comes from community (even if it also comes from God). We call one another into ministry. Unfortunately, in current form, I think that all too often seems to translate into more of a reality of people trying to discern their call on their own. Or heading off to seminary, ready to pour all kinds of money into it, without a clue of what they are getting into.
I can imagine an ideal world in which, when a person first is told or begins to feel that they have a call to the ministry arising, and they want to explore that, a community of folks -- both people who know them and people who don't -- are gathered to walk with them in the continual discernment required to uncover a true calling and then refine it. The end result may or may not be ordained ministry in any of its current forms (community, RE, or parish). But no particular outcome is a goal in the beginning except to help the individual uncover the nature of his or her call.
This could be the start, middle, and end, of the credentialing process.
Can you imagine, for example, after you get the required career assessment, and you get your evaluation back, being able to go to this community whose soul purpose is for you to uncover the nature of your call, and really *process* it with them in such a way that more and more the specificity of your call emerges. There is so much rich stuff in the assessments, why not?
It would be a whole different form, and much more powerful. I also think it would make room for the emergence of other uses for the spiritual gifts of UUs in the world, other than ordained ministry (along the lines of what Peter Bowden has suggested).
On the start of my going-to-seminary-to-pursue-ordination journey, I had a whole series of lengthy and numerous conversations with family members, friends, and the ministers (ordained and otherwise) in my life.
Once I got accepted into several seminaries, I held a conference call with a handful of these folks to discuss my next steps. While the decision at the time was less important than that of actually discerning a call (and really was mostly about which seminary was the best fit for where I was in my journey), drawing on the wisdom of a community of folks felt important to me.
When I set up the structure for the conference call, some family members gave me a hard time because I did things like ask folks to leave a minute or two of silence between each person talking. We didn't end up sticking to it exactly, but I feel that just by sharing my hope that we could really hear one another, it created sort of an open, ongoing silent prayer in the conversation that was ultimately important to the level of clarity reached.
In an ideal world, the communal discernment is really what the MFC process would be. I am not confident that's what it is (it may be in part, but I doubt it is in whole), yet I do think it should be. Communal discernment looks, feels, and is much different than gatekeeping, standards-measuring, determining, evaluating, or testing.
For one thing, it has the power to lead to something much more powerful than a "yes" or a "no..." it can lead to a "here's what..."
For UUs, the call comes from community (even if it also comes from God). We call one another into ministry. Unfortunately, in current form, I think that all too often seems to translate into more of a reality of people trying to discern their call on their own. Or heading off to seminary, ready to pour all kinds of money into it, without a clue of what they are getting into.
I can imagine an ideal world in which, when a person first is told or begins to feel that they have a call to the ministry arising, and they want to explore that, a community of folks -- both people who know them and people who don't -- are gathered to walk with them in the continual discernment required to uncover a true calling and then refine it. The end result may or may not be ordained ministry in any of its current forms (community, RE, or parish). But no particular outcome is a goal in the beginning except to help the individual uncover the nature of his or her call.
This could be the start, middle, and end, of the credentialing process.
Can you imagine, for example, after you get the required career assessment, and you get your evaluation back, being able to go to this community whose soul purpose is for you to uncover the nature of your call, and really *process* it with them in such a way that more and more the specificity of your call emerges. There is so much rich stuff in the assessments, why not?
It would be a whole different form, and much more powerful. I also think it would make room for the emergence of other uses for the spiritual gifts of UUs in the world, other than ordained ministry (along the lines of what Peter Bowden has suggested).
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Takeoff and Landing Turbulance
Here is something that rarely gets talked about among religious leaders, and certainly is not covered on any regular basis in seminary, but is important nonetheless: takeoff and landing. That is to say, entrances and exits, hellos and goodbyes, or integration and disintegration of leadership relationships under relatively healthy conditions.
Some religious leaders, both those who are paid and those who are unpaid for their leadership, will stay in one place for a long time and only say a conclusive hello and goodbye once or twice. Others will have a few such experiences. Hopefully for most of us, we won't do it so much that we become well-practiced at it. Therefore, for the best of the reasons, it is easy to do with relatively little grace.
I'm approximately halfway into a yearlong goodbye, and I am realizing how much I struggle with it. When I resigned from my last church in order to fly across the country, challenge myself in a new setting, and bring my wife closer to her aging parents, I had about half the goodbye time that I have now, and I dare say it was easier.
Today was one of those days when I felt myself stumbling through it all. I wasn't graceful in the least. I was cranky, whiny, and less than present. I was not ministerial in the way that I know I should and can be.
After some reflection tonight, I realized how important it is to keep regular in my spiritual practices during "takeoff and landing." Unfortunately, my spiritual practices seem to get lost during the inevitable complications of trying to adjust to a new setting or prepare to leave a setting. It happened when I came to my current church, and seems to also be happening as I leave.
I haven't been regular in my prayer practice since just before I started talking with my congregation last spring about the possibility of me leaving. And I let myself slip out of the habit of keeping a Sabbath. So tonight I did a "spiritual check-up" and realized I am experiencing spiritual disease. I had already re-determined to get back into holding the Sabbath last week during a therapy session. But after today, I am recommitting to my prayer practice too.
Takeoff and landing is, on one hand, not for the faint of heart. It can be a rough ride! But, on the other hand, even under the best of circumstances, all of us are going to do it at least once or twice. Faint of heart or not, we don't really get a choice. As long as we must say goodbye, why not do it in a spiritually healthy manner befitting of the religious leadership legacy we are leaving from our good work when we had the stability of an ongoing relationship between us and our congregations? I recommend keeping regular spiritual practices toward that end. As for me, I am getting back to mine!
Some religious leaders, both those who are paid and those who are unpaid for their leadership, will stay in one place for a long time and only say a conclusive hello and goodbye once or twice. Others will have a few such experiences. Hopefully for most of us, we won't do it so much that we become well-practiced at it. Therefore, for the best of the reasons, it is easy to do with relatively little grace.
I'm approximately halfway into a yearlong goodbye, and I am realizing how much I struggle with it. When I resigned from my last church in order to fly across the country, challenge myself in a new setting, and bring my wife closer to her aging parents, I had about half the goodbye time that I have now, and I dare say it was easier.
Today was one of those days when I felt myself stumbling through it all. I wasn't graceful in the least. I was cranky, whiny, and less than present. I was not ministerial in the way that I know I should and can be.
After some reflection tonight, I realized how important it is to keep regular in my spiritual practices during "takeoff and landing." Unfortunately, my spiritual practices seem to get lost during the inevitable complications of trying to adjust to a new setting or prepare to leave a setting. It happened when I came to my current church, and seems to also be happening as I leave.
I haven't been regular in my prayer practice since just before I started talking with my congregation last spring about the possibility of me leaving. And I let myself slip out of the habit of keeping a Sabbath. So tonight I did a "spiritual check-up" and realized I am experiencing spiritual disease. I had already re-determined to get back into holding the Sabbath last week during a therapy session. But after today, I am recommitting to my prayer practice too.
Takeoff and landing is, on one hand, not for the faint of heart. It can be a rough ride! But, on the other hand, even under the best of circumstances, all of us are going to do it at least once or twice. Faint of heart or not, we don't really get a choice. As long as we must say goodbye, why not do it in a spiritually healthy manner befitting of the religious leadership legacy we are leaving from our good work when we had the stability of an ongoing relationship between us and our congregations? I recommend keeping regular spiritual practices toward that end. As for me, I am getting back to mine!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Leaders: Say Less
One of the double-edged swords with blogging is that it is a written form of communication in the public sphere, and it is simultaneously a fairly spontaneous form of communication. We can all write whatever we want on our own blogs and any blog accepting comments, at any time, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
On our own blogs, we can go back and edit, or if we object to editing, write lengthy follow-up posts clarifying or changing our positions. On blogs that don't belong to us, once we make a comment, it is out of our hands and continues to live on the internet for as long as the blog author feels the blog should exist. I say this is a double-edged sword because it is indeed both a "blessing and a curse."
On one hand, we can regret something we say and not have the control necessary to go back and make it right. On the other hand, it can also be a record of our growth, our changing thoughts, and most importantly, *what was really said.*
Last spring, I walked into the center of a heated debate on a blog. Though I tend to process information through conversation, I also often prefer to do so in small gatherings of company rather than in the public sphere. For this reason, I am usually fairly careful about what I say out loud while trying to make sense of things. I definitely didn't mean to end up in the center of the debate, to say the least.
Once I said what I said in this particular blog debate, however, the focus shifted to me and my arguments, and I couldn't extricate myself. I was in the center. The blogger wrote what I felt was a scathing post in response to my comments. At the time, I was hurt. I felt what I said had been misconstrued. I felt false assumptions had been made about me. I felt misunderstood, misrepresented, and humiliated. I felt like I'd received a verbal lashing...and I still felt *right*!
I tried to respond, but my comment ended up being too long. I hadn't saved it, so I couldn't paste it into my own blog and post a comment on the other blog with the link. I thought about writing it again on my own blog, but my energy had been sapped, and I decided to just be done.
Some things really are best left unsaid.
Something a close friend mentioned to me today reminded me of the debate, and I had a tiny temptation to email her a link to my "lashing" to show her how terribly I'd been treated (Who me? Licking wounds?!). I knew that was something of a triangulation-type response to hurt feelings, though, so I decided not to give into temptation. Instead, tonight I got online and pulled up my original comments and the response post.
You know what? What had been said wasn't unfair. It was super harsh, maybe even a tad unkind, but it wasn't unfair. There was something I needed to learn from the rebuke that had been offered, and it wasn't until my feelings weren't so raw that I was able to see it.
When I read the response again, I found it a well-reasoned set of arguments. I didn't agree with everything said, but I could understand why the blogger had come to the conclusions she had and why she felt so strongly about them. In one or two cases, the arguments she made were in fact stronger than my own, and the points she made more important. In other words, in at least a thing or two that I had said originally, I was wrong.
Thank goodness my response to the blogger's response was rejected by her blogging program as being too long. It would have sounded defensive and fearful. If I wanted to write a new response now (I don't! I've moved on to other debates LOL), it would be a more knowledgeable, more thoughtful, more complete and better reasoned response because of the things the blogger had said. This is a good reminder for me in my relationship with my congregation.
Good leadership, to me, is in large part, deep listening.
In the church, there can be a lot at stake. Liturgical issues, theological questions, budget decisions, staffing matters...the list goes on. Religious leaders are bound to feel strongly about a thing or two! We could, of course, through the sheer brilliance of our arguments demand the solidarity of others...win people over to our points of view. Surely then, if everyone did things exactly our way, the church could be saved, the people of the congregation all the better for it. Right?!
Perhaps.
But that is not the kind of leadership to which we are called in the religious setting. In the religious setting, leaders nourish discernment in people of faith. Discernment is fostered through the thoughtful back and forth that occurs when a leader says, "what is so urgent that we cannot slow down and truly hear one another?" Discernment is fostered by leaders who do not allow themselves to be seen as the "go-to answer people."
Leadership is not lawyership. Winning people over isn't a sign of good ministry. In fact, you don't have all the answers and nor should you. Leaders: say less and less frequently. God can't be heard when your own voice is doing all the talking.
On our own blogs, we can go back and edit, or if we object to editing, write lengthy follow-up posts clarifying or changing our positions. On blogs that don't belong to us, once we make a comment, it is out of our hands and continues to live on the internet for as long as the blog author feels the blog should exist. I say this is a double-edged sword because it is indeed both a "blessing and a curse."
On one hand, we can regret something we say and not have the control necessary to go back and make it right. On the other hand, it can also be a record of our growth, our changing thoughts, and most importantly, *what was really said.*
Last spring, I walked into the center of a heated debate on a blog. Though I tend to process information through conversation, I also often prefer to do so in small gatherings of company rather than in the public sphere. For this reason, I am usually fairly careful about what I say out loud while trying to make sense of things. I definitely didn't mean to end up in the center of the debate, to say the least.
Once I said what I said in this particular blog debate, however, the focus shifted to me and my arguments, and I couldn't extricate myself. I was in the center. The blogger wrote what I felt was a scathing post in response to my comments. At the time, I was hurt. I felt what I said had been misconstrued. I felt false assumptions had been made about me. I felt misunderstood, misrepresented, and humiliated. I felt like I'd received a verbal lashing...and I still felt *right*!
I tried to respond, but my comment ended up being too long. I hadn't saved it, so I couldn't paste it into my own blog and post a comment on the other blog with the link. I thought about writing it again on my own blog, but my energy had been sapped, and I decided to just be done.
Some things really are best left unsaid.
Something a close friend mentioned to me today reminded me of the debate, and I had a tiny temptation to email her a link to my "lashing" to show her how terribly I'd been treated (Who me? Licking wounds?!). I knew that was something of a triangulation-type response to hurt feelings, though, so I decided not to give into temptation. Instead, tonight I got online and pulled up my original comments and the response post.
You know what? What had been said wasn't unfair. It was super harsh, maybe even a tad unkind, but it wasn't unfair. There was something I needed to learn from the rebuke that had been offered, and it wasn't until my feelings weren't so raw that I was able to see it.
When I read the response again, I found it a well-reasoned set of arguments. I didn't agree with everything said, but I could understand why the blogger had come to the conclusions she had and why she felt so strongly about them. In one or two cases, the arguments she made were in fact stronger than my own, and the points she made more important. In other words, in at least a thing or two that I had said originally, I was wrong.
Thank goodness my response to the blogger's response was rejected by her blogging program as being too long. It would have sounded defensive and fearful. If I wanted to write a new response now (I don't! I've moved on to other debates LOL), it would be a more knowledgeable, more thoughtful, more complete and better reasoned response because of the things the blogger had said. This is a good reminder for me in my relationship with my congregation.
Good leadership, to me, is in large part, deep listening.
In the church, there can be a lot at stake. Liturgical issues, theological questions, budget decisions, staffing matters...the list goes on. Religious leaders are bound to feel strongly about a thing or two! We could, of course, through the sheer brilliance of our arguments demand the solidarity of others...win people over to our points of view. Surely then, if everyone did things exactly our way, the church could be saved, the people of the congregation all the better for it. Right?!
Perhaps.
But that is not the kind of leadership to which we are called in the religious setting. In the religious setting, leaders nourish discernment in people of faith. Discernment is fostered through the thoughtful back and forth that occurs when a leader says, "what is so urgent that we cannot slow down and truly hear one another?" Discernment is fostered by leaders who do not allow themselves to be seen as the "go-to answer people."
Leadership is not lawyership. Winning people over isn't a sign of good ministry. In fact, you don't have all the answers and nor should you. Leaders: say less and less frequently. God can't be heard when your own voice is doing all the talking.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
On Economy and Church Part III: Who Among You Is In Need?
This is part of an ongoing exploration of the economy and church. To see part II, where I cover some fundamentals of American economics and the current American economic condition (some of which may be applicable in some form outside of the United States) click here.
Let's now talk a little about "class."
First, the "knowns." My source(s) here is not a primary source and is six-years-old, by the way, but my blogging practice is to post sources if (1) they are either primary or can be backed up by primary sources if I took the time to do so, and (2) most of what is said in the source still applies at the time I am posting it. Here is some of what we know about class, as outlined in a 2005 New York Times series called "Class Matters." I especially recommend that first full article in the list.
Making our responsibilities even greater, in addition to that, there is an emerging need among a whole new group. This need is found in the middle class folks, especially the lower-middle class folks, who have gotten themselves in over their heads with house payments and so forth that they can't support with post-recession levels of income and inflated costs of living. Even if our country recovers and we can eventually return to the "status quo" (which I questioned in part II of this series), it may very well take years. Though the need is probably less urgent than among the "working class," the suffering is largely silent. The reasons for this include:
If I am right, what does this mean for us as a people of faith?
Let's now talk a little about "class."
First, the "knowns." My source(s) here is not a primary source and is six-years-old, by the way, but my blogging practice is to post sources if (1) they are either primary or can be backed up by primary sources if I took the time to do so, and (2) most of what is said in the source still applies at the time I am posting it. Here is some of what we know about class, as outlined in a 2005 New York Times series called "Class Matters." I especially recommend that first full article in the list.
- There is a class system in the United States.
- The "American Dream" of upward class mobility is more dream than reality.
- Upward class mobility is declining such that my generation became the first generation that will probably and almost uniformly make equal amounts or less than our parents, unlike the generations that have come before us for quite some time.
- The chasm between rich and poor is indeed growing.
- Consumer debt is rampant among all classes. In fact, in some cases it may be how we Americans have tried to equalize ourselves among class levels (just compare average house sizes from 1950 to 2004).
- Lenders have historically preyed on folks in vulnerable positions.
- Across the country, individual rates of debt have far exceeded our rate of savings.
- In many areas of the United States, unemployment is still a big problem.
- Even in places where there are jobs, economic contractions from the recession have not lifted. People who have jobs are often working fewer hours, at lower rates of pay, for fewer benefits, with reduced levels of compensation for costs such as health insurance.
- Despite some loan modifications, for the most part, the great many people who have jobs but who are working fewer hours, at lower rates of pay, for fewer benefits, with reduced levels of compensation still have their pre-recession mortgages or close to pre-recession rental costs. They also have greater health care costs (not only have benefits lowered, but prices have continued to increase). And the cost of food is up. So as a whole, we are trying to stretch less into more.
- Folks are shouldering these burdens on top of their high rates of consumer debt and low rates of savings.
Making our responsibilities even greater, in addition to that, there is an emerging need among a whole new group. This need is found in the middle class folks, especially the lower-middle class folks, who have gotten themselves in over their heads with house payments and so forth that they can't support with post-recession levels of income and inflated costs of living. Even if our country recovers and we can eventually return to the "status quo" (which I questioned in part II of this series), it may very well take years. Though the need is probably less urgent than among the "working class," the suffering is largely silent. The reasons for this include:
- The problem surfaced in part as the result of high debt levels, and people feel ashamed. While high debt levels have never been part of good financial management, the truth is that what seemed to be reasonable debt to the majority of Americans five or six years ago no longer seems reasonable. Consider the mortgages some of us were willing to pay (hey, even me just back in 2007, which is after the "bubble" started to burst).
- Because the issues are so entwined with debt for this particular class level, these are people who are not qualifying for the safety nets available to the "working class." Until they lose their jobs, despite lower incomes than pre-recession and higher costs, they can't get foodstamps, their children don't qualify for free or reduced lunch programs at school, they won't likely receive utility assistance even when the power is turned off or the oil company refuses to deliver, and the food banks may not serve folks from their zip codes.
- A committed, pledging single member or family (with or without children) of your church has bounced checks trying to make a pledge payment.
- Someone you know in a middle class profession is skipping lunch to make sure their kids can have dinner.
- A seemingly middle class family in your church has had the electricity or heat turned off or nearly turned off sometime in the last month, and fears CPS would be called regarding their children if anyone finds out.
- A parent you know in the so-called middle class isn't eating fruits and vegetables (is putting their own nutrition at risk) in order to ensure that produce is available for their children.
- Someone in a middle class neighborhood near you (maybe even your own) is calling the water company to make payment arrangements this month so they can afford to pay enough of the natural gas bill that it won't be turned off. Meanwhile, they haven't paid the phone company in two months and are waiting for the inevitable cancelation notice.
If I am right, what does this mean for us as a people of faith?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
"Sympathy is our strongest instinct"
I think this video gets really interesting around the 2 minute and 50 second mark. I am looking forward to exploring this very soon in a newsletter column or sermon.
It's worth watching, religious leaders. Pay special attention to what is said at the 4 minute and 30 second mark, and then consider possible implications for religious leaders in the church context. What do you think?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
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