Category: Faith

The Authority of the Church

One of my classes this semester is Lutheran Confessions with Dr. Wengert. He is one of the academic heavy weights at the seminary and was one of the editors of the most recent edition of the “Book of Concord.” He’s been teaching at the seminary for over twenty years, has been involved in quite a few agreements between different church bodies, is currently working on a Lutheran-Catholic commentary on the 95 thesis to be published before 2017 (500th anniversary), and has gotten quite a bit of flack recently for the “bound conscience” idea that is in the 2009 church wide human sexuality statement. He also really enjoys what he teaches, has great stories, and answers every question with “Why do you ask that question?” I sit in the very front row, right next to where he stands to lecture, and I’m usually involved in all of his lecture illustrations. Last week, I drowned in wine. It was very sad.

Anyways, part of the class requirements is to write five short essays. Each essay is two to three pages in length. We are given eight topics and are to chose five. I’ve so far done three out of the four assigned so far. Another one is due on Thursday. Dr. Wengert does not care what we think about the topic but is asking us to break through early Lutheran documents in the Book of Concord and explain what Luther, Melanchthon, and other early Lutheran reformers thought. I will admit that I was nervous when I first entered the class. I wrote a paper for him last year that was pretty embarrassing and so I didn’t know what to expect. My first paper was okay but my second paper (the one I felt very weak on), I did really well. I am use to Dr. Wengert to write complete essays in the margins of my essay or at the very end. He is very good at telling a person what he disagrees with, what they should focus more on, and what problems the person could run into. So that’s what I was looking for but I didn’t get that. Instead, I received a half a dozen one word margin notes and a one line response at the very end. Sometimes, less is more.

I have yet to receive back my third paper on “Why does the Lord appear in the Lord’s Supper?” I found it ridiculously hard to expand that answer into two pages without resorting to size 13 font or 1.25 inch margins. I was able to but it was a stretch. And it’s possible that the 2nd paper made me a little cocky – let’s see if the third paper brings me back down to earth.

What the Church expects of its Seminarians

Last Tuesday, the bishop of the New Jersey Synod delivered the Tuesday convocation at LTSP. His one hour long presentation was centered on the question of what the church expects of its seminarians and especially of its seminarian graduates. The senior class at LTSP had learned the week before which region of the country they had been assigned to and they did make up the majority of the audience. They were followed in numbers by the first years, a handful of second years, and then the professors. The bishop packed the house.

The bishop began by discussing a book he had recently read while on a three month sabbatical, “American Grace.” I haven’t read it but, from my understanding, it is mostly a book of sociologist statistics and analysis about the religious like in the United over the last fifty years. The bishop focused primarily on two things: the rise of those who consider themselves spiritual but not religious (they are now 17% of the US population and are called the “nons”) and the discrepancy between the religious principles between the clergy and the laity. Some of this information was enlightening though I noticed that several questions I would have asked were not answered in the presentation (specifically what lay members expect their clergy to believe). The audience seemed to enjoy the vast gulf of doctrines held by LC-MS clergy and LC-MS lay members.

The last third of the presentation was devoted to a survey that the bishop sent to his clergy and lay leaders. He then compiled the results and shared them with the audience. The general conclusion seemed to be that graduates should be better trained in learning how to train leaders in the congregation, to continue learning church history and confessions to educate lay members (education that lay members were asking for their professors to teach them), and help in understanding the use of technology and social networks. There was also a fourth point made but I, sadly, forgot it. There was also one set of questions shared with the audience where the beginning of each question was “Can we expect a masters-educated graduate to…” This was probably the most poignant, and over-dramatic, part of the presentation and the phrase “can we expect a masters-educated graduate to…” will become one of my many seminary related in-jokes.

But by the end of the presentation, I was very annoyed though I couldn’t put it in words at the time. There was just a tone to the presentation that irked me – though maybe my lack of sleep due to a paper I wrote the night before that turned into a rant against online-media church consultants had me on edge. Anyways, it took several days for it to stew in my brain and it wasn’t until I was actually at my internship church today that it finally hit me. The problem was that, half-way through the presentation, I knew that the presentation had nothing to do with me. Rather, it was ABOUT me – in the sense that part of the solutions/rhetorical questions were directed to what the bishop called “counter-cultural.” Me. The bishop was talking about me.

I know that I can’t fully adequately explain what it was in the presentation that made me feel off-putted – I just got a sense that by me being my very self, I was somehow a problem that the church was now struggling to deal with. And I wish I could write it better – and pinpoint where that happened – but I can’t. And I find that frustrating too. It just felt very strange feeling like I was being talked about, dissected, diagnosed, and identified as a “problem” that the church, and the graduating seminarians, are going to have to fix. There must be a better way to talk about the changing church.

Mud Pit 101: Welcome to the Spring Semester

I realize I have not updated this in awhile. I also realize that I have yet to finish my report on the Holy Land Experience nor have I reported on my first semester at LTSP or the start of my second. With a brand new schedule, five new classes, and a new travel schedule between NYC and Philadelphia, I have yet to figure out a study/work/church/family schedule that works for me yet. And I’m already behind in my reading (but just so). I will write more later but I would just like to say that I am enjoying the fact that the snow piles are finally melting and mud pits are filling the seminary campus. It almost feels as if spring is actually coming soon.

My first impression, however, of this new semester is that it will be harder than my last. I am in class quite a bit more, my responsibilities at my Field Experience site has increased, and the classes are quite a bit more challenging because we are covering areas of study that I am just not well grounded in. And I think one of the most obvious signs of this, in terms of language, is how often the phrase “in confirmation class, you did ” is used in sermons and in lectures. My first thought is always, always, “I never went to confirmation.” It’s a fun phrase that is used, usually, to ground the community in a common experience but it can also be a tad alienating. It highlights a common experience that I do not have. That is not necessarily a bad thing but it’s a reminder that I’m not just learning the language of scriptures, the language of theology, the language of pastoral care, but also the language of the “ideal” common Lutheran experience. And it’s an interesting experience especially when thought of in regard to doing ministry to people without that same faith language. It’s quite easy to get stuck in that language unconsciously. And I think I fall into that trap more than I should.

The Twitter Church

Last Sunday after service, the church where I am an intern, held their annual meeting. New members to the church council needed to be elected, a budget for 2011 needed to be passed, and the annual report for the congregation (60 pages!) needed to be read and accepted by the congregation. But the church decided to do something different this year with the bulk of our time together devoted towards strategic planning. Earlier in 2010, the church council had organized a committee to begin thinking about how the church’s mission should look 3, 5, 10 years from now. At the annual meeting, members of that committee organized small groups and led an open discussion on a survey of 14 questions (or so) about what the church is doing right, what it is doing wrong, and where the church should be going next. I had a great time and I think the information that was gathered will most likely be very useful as the church spends 2011 re-evaluating its mission in the local community, NYC, nationally, and internationally. It is just different being at a church where high level planning can be tdone. I’m use to congregations where staffing the current ministries is difficult and where just surviving day-to-day is the real challenge. The church I’m interning at use to be that way a decade ago. But after ten years of hard work, of ministry, of embracing the community and being God’s people, they’ve moved on to the next stage of their life. They’ve leveled up and the congregation knows it. They’re excited and I’m sure that the conversations that were had stimulated the minds, hearts, and energies of the people there. So, at the moment at least, there is a level of energy in the congregation that wasn’t there a week ago. That’s great though I’m curious how long that will last (and what the church leaders – including me – can do to keep that energy level up while the strategic planning committee takes time to digest the information they gathered). And I’m sure that one area that is going to be addressed is the website, the online presence of the church, and how exactly communication resources can be used to enhance, extend, and push the church forward.

The church, however, has no online presence (beyond a basic website). I’ve taken it upon myself to revamp their website, update its content, and spend a few moments just getting their online presence to the point where someone else can move in and take it to the next level. I’ve already heard from some folks who participated at the Annual Meeting about their ideas for the internet presence of the church and one technology that has been brought up is Twitter. Plenty of churches have signed up to Twitter to broadcast their messages in 140 characters or less and this church should as well. Twitter is, like all social media, seen as something that the church should be on RIGHT NOW. But without a developed or thought out online strategy, there is real risk in a church to merely hop from one technology to the next, never taking the time (or having a person that is designated to take the time) to see how this technology serves the church’s mission. I know, from my own experience, that if I see a church on a social media site but if that church fails to use that site, then I am merely reminded of what that church CANNOT DO rather than what it CAN DO. Barely using something can be more problematic than not using it at all.

But there can also be another problem with Twitter and other social media sites that churches who jump onto social media tend to ignore. When Jay Cutler left the NFC Championship game on Sunday with a knee injury, he was immediately attacked by NFL players on Twitter. These opinions then helped fuel further questions about the integrity of the Chicago Bears organization, Jay Cutler, the coaching staff, and further tarnished Jay Cutler’s reputation (which wasn’t very good to begin with anyways). And all of this was developing while the game was still being played! By the time the post-game press conference was held, the Bears were caught off guard and had no effective way to just respond to what had been said on Twitter because they had not spent the time (and money) to put in place a basic apparatus on how to live in a world that no longer allows a post-game news conference to manage the PR of the team. The time an organization has to create a statement is approaching zero. Social media means that the audience can talk back and it will sometimes say things that you just won’t like.

The church I am interning at has been able to grow and do God’s work without social media but that doesn’t mean that social media cannot be used by the church. In fact, I personally feel that the church SHOULD branch out and embrace social media. And I’m sure it will. But it shouldn’t embrace that technology without spending the few moments to actually understand how that media impacts its mission, how it can further that mission, and how it can continue to be used if the person responsible for its use steps down. A pastor that is in charge of the social media does a disservice to their congregation if they leave and no one exists to take over their work. A Twitter account that was last updated six months ago is just as bad as a website that still lists Christmas services on their front page. And a church that doesn’t understand that the use of social media implies that their audience is, and will, talk back to it, is a church that is out-of-date no matter how Web 2.0 their online presence is.

The Holy Land Experience Part Two: The Never-Ending Supper

While we waited in line for our next “experience”, I noticed several people walking around eating giant turkey legs and having their pictures taken with the Roman guards. For a minute there, I was bummed that I settled for a corn dog rather than a turkey leg but then I realized that this wasn’t a Renaissance fair – this was the Holy Land by golly! We have no need for turkey here! What we needed was terrible crackers and grape juice. The HLE delivered.

Hanging around the table

The Last Supper experience was held inside the “Quram Caves,” a a space that was suppose to be an exact copy of the Upper Room as it was refurbished during the Crusades. At the entrance, we were given a broken cracker and a little chalice made of olive wood supposedly grown in Israel. The room was much darker than my picture shows. The seats at the table were already taken so K and I moved to the side next to some African-American ladies and an Asian family with young kids who kept trying to get onto the table. K noticed that no matter how ridiculous this thing was going to be, the number of different races and ethnicities was amazing. It would be hard to find a church with this much diversity.

The lights dimmed a bit and a woman next to me picked up her cell phone and made a call. Everyone seemed to be attempting a strange balancing act by trying to take pictures with their cameras and hoping to not drop their mini-chalice and cracker. And then the show began with John, wielding a Garth Brook’s microphone, coming out from a side room.

John is telling us to get ready to do the sinners prayer

John welcomed us, talked about how great of an experience we’re about to have, and then – for some reason – led us in the Sinner’s prayer. I guess the unbelievers needed to be cleansed before Jesus would arrive. John pointed to the loaves of bread in front of him (that we were not going to share in) and also took the cup and waved it about. There was quite a bit of conviction in his voice and in his mannerisms – a level of conviction that felt overacted. With the last supper explained and our hearts “cleansed”, John stepped to the side and the main man himself walked onto the stage. But could this really be Jesus? It was not the same man who we just saw in the Passion Play!

Jesus is holding the cup

Jesus, it seemed, had gotten younger and seemed to be very tired. He had an annoying habit of needing to brush his hair from his face every few seconds. While he began his prayers and his chats, I stood to the side clicking away on my camera. The woman who had made a phone call a few minutes earlier kept receiving phone calls (and did not know how to put her phone on silent) but it didn’t seem to bother Jesus. Jesus was in a zone and had a role to play! And John did as well. At appropriate times, he seemed to be there specifically to remind the audience when to praise Jesus, where the dramatic parts of the story were, and when we were suppose to feel the proper forms of reverence. And being the person that I am, the thought running through my mind was that Jesus was “doing it wrong”. Even ignoring my own high sacramental views of the Eucharist, there was no community in the experience. Maybe the folks who were able to sit at the actual table had a level of intimacy with the actor to actually feel something but I felt nothing (short of annoyance). We were, in a sense, being talked at and blessed at. We weren’t participating in this act, either passively, actively, receptively, or in any other way. This was a merely a cheap ride without the 3D glasses. I found it to be quite silly.

Listen up! Jesus be prayin'

The bread was blessed and broken. The grape juice was blessed as well. And we ate, drank, and I tossed my little chalice in my bag to get it out of my hand. And then Jesus did something I didn’t quite expect. He came out from behind the table and squeezed through the small crowd touching everyone on the shoulder. Jesus didn’t say much, just tapped my shoulder, pushed by me, and then moved onto the next person. I hoped he wouldn’t whack into all the DSLR’s hanging from people’s necks or have his eyes poked by the few people who raised their hands in praise. It’s possible that, at this point, John led us in a praise song but I don’t remember. And once everyone was physically touched, Jesus exited from where he had originally come and John told us that the chalice was a “gift” for all of us, a reminder of our time at the HLE. And then we all shuffled our way out into the sunshine and K and I planned our next move – Christian Karaoke.