Category: Faith

Altar Guild is Kinda Like Brunch or maybe like Happy Hour

I’ve come to realize that I probably have thought enough about the elements of the Eucharist. I mean, I think I have the beginning part down. The idea about them coming from the earth, being substantial, being part of an actual meal – that I feel comfortable with. And the whole real presence – yeah, I’m cool with that as well. But it is what happens AFTER that I haven’t thought enough about. How do I handle the elements after the service is over and I’m alone with the leftovers in the sacristy, cleaning up as part of the altar guild?

By default, my theology is to consume all the leftovers. I tend not to play the game about when it’s no longer the body and blood of Jesus but I do tend to view them as set-apart. If I don’t consume them, I then try to return them to the earth rather than throw them into the trash. For my internship site, this means opening up a side door and walking a few steps to a nearby playground and pouring the wine/dropping the bread onto one of the many bare and lifeless spots of ground in New York City. I tend to only do that when there is too much wine for me to drink or if I just don’t feel like ingesting extra carbs. I don’t feel as if there is anything necessarily “wrong” with how I handle the elements but I do know that I haven’t thought about it enough. Instead, I’m parroting advice and thoughts that others have given me.

I was thinking about this while I was prepping for the late service and I was deconstructing the altar setup for the early service. I ate the remaining pieces of bread and noticed that there were a few minor crumbs left. I didn’t feel like doing anything too wild to ingest every single crumb so I just shook out the dish over the trash. And as the little pieces of bread feel into the trash can, I wondered if a) that was okay and b) was I okay with it? I don’t know the answer to either question right now.

After the late service, I had the same thoughts. I finished off the chalices of wine and white grape juice (which meant I downed about four glasses of wine in a few minutes), wondering why just I did that. Did it make sense for me to get heavily buzzed right before a few after church meetings just because I felt the need to ingest the leftovers of the elements? Or do I just always forget that I don’t have the tolerance I had five years ago?

Or maybe I should just have had breakfast before I left for church this morning. That probably would have kept my mind (and blood alcohol level) at ease today.

Megadeth Martin Luther


publicity photo

So one of the founding members of Megadeth is on his way to seminary. Sure, he’s going into the LCMS but we won’t hold that against him. He is a celebrity and he’s joining the Lutheran Christian ministry. I have no idea but I don’t think that’s the norm for celebrity-turned-clergy. As a friend on facebook said, “It gets boring when all the ex-celebrities come to TEC [The Episcopal Church] for their priestly call.”

An article in St. Louis Today fleshes out his story. After growing up in a Lutheran family and church, he moved out to LA, formed Megadeth, became a rock star, ended up in rehab, re-affirmed his faith, and ended up back at a church in Arizona. There, recognizing his skills, his pastor convinced him to develop a contemporary worship service. He’s being called to become the pastor for that role at his church.

And, in another sense, he’s become the current face of the distance learning model approach to seminary that Concordia (and a lot of seminaries) are now taking a serious look at. I know LTSP is struggling with setting up a similar program, GTS is in the beginning stages, and Luther Seminary is already well on its way. But what I found interesting about the Concordia model is that it seems to be an OLD model of ministry training. The men in the program are specifically already called to serve in a specific ministry at a church. They do two years of distance study, are ordained (to what, I’m not sure), and then do another two years to become a full blown pastor (I think). Their home congregation pastor serves as their supervisor. It reminds me of the old fashion training of clergy in the USofA where a pastor took on a few souls to teach and train. And I’m sure that this model is also developed from the “evangelical” influence that the LCMS has been under for years. It’s an interesting idea and I’m curious how it will play out. But then I also wonder if it will just end up with a large number of clergy who are stuck in a specific church and ministry (though maybe not – but the program title seems to imply that) and if it will end up perpetuating an idea that only ordained men should serve in specific leadership roles in the church.

Yet this might be the model the ELCA will follow if the “advice” for new clergy that they should be “bi-vocational” becomes a requirement. These folks already have places to work, are supposedly getting paid through their regular jobs, and are able to pay for their education. Maybe this is the LCMS’ way of creating a bi-vocational force of clergy for their next generation of ministers. Spooky.

So that’s what it is like to host an event. Oi.

Thursday was a long day. I left the apartment at 7:30 am and got back at 10:00 pm. When I got home, I poured myself a glass of wine, sat on my computer, and floated in and out of consciousness before finally giving up and going to bed. I was exhausted.

I knew it was going to be a long day for a variety of reasons. During the day, I was playing “host” to a social media bootcamp at the church I intern at. After that ended, I was going to help lead a confirmation class. And I was also involved in our Thursday night service. I was so wiped by the end of it that I couldn’t even publish the blog post I was hoping to write and I woke up on Friday with a headache. It was one of those days.

And I’ll admit that I stressed out about the day for weeks before hand. The social media bootcamp had been planned since September. A company based in the Mid-west puts these events on throughout the country. We offered to host one for Lutheran clergy. And, as the intern, I got involved. I never really hosted an event like this before or planned anything of this sort. And even though I wouldn’t be responsible for collecting fees or anything, I would be involved in recruitment. Recruitment isn’t my strong suit and outreach is still my weakest skill (I’ll probably write something about that in the future but, luckily, I don’t think it’s something I can’t learn). The event was located in the back of my head for months and I stressed about it. And the closer we got to the event, the more worried I was about it. Would anyone come? Would the wireless network hold out? How would it go? Would people enjoy it? Would it work out?

I’m a worry wart it seems.

Overall, the event turned out fine. The wireless network did not handle the presence of 25 people in the church. The cost of lunch was more than we originally planned. But the leader was engaging and people seemed to learn a lot from him. I was hoping that the event would be more about framing social media strategies for clergy and churches (which is what I care about) but it tended to be more about demystifying various social media tools (which is what most others care about). At the end, people seemed engaged, people enjoyed it, and I was worn out. I spent most of the time being, well, the intern. I setup the space, welcomed people, picked-up lunch, did tech support, sat in the back managing anything that went wrong, and tore it all down at the end. And that was rather exhausting for an event that I’m not sure I got a lot out of. The event, in a sense, wasn’t for me.

But I did learn some things. I learned how to do outreach. I learned how to talk to the deans of the synod. I learned how valuable personal invitations and personal networks were to get the event populated. I learned what people need at an event like this, what engaged them, and what was problematic. I also learned that, because of personal referrals on how good this event was, people were willing to travel to this event from all across the Northeast. I also learned what it means to host an event when another competing synod event was going on at the same time and nearby. I also was lucky in having good people around – people willing to help who were at the church for other reasons (Kate, Brian, and Julie – I’m thinking of you all here). And I also learned how to make coffee with a different type of machine – a skill that one of my colleagues said “is one of the most important skills in ministry to have.”

When the event was over, I was left feeling a little deflated. The blog post I originally wrote about everything was a tad negative because I focused a lot on what I didn’t get out of it. I didn’t really learn much from the speaker in terms of content and substance. He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know. Instead, I learned a lot about structure and form and…to be honest…I’m not sure how much that interests me at the moment. You would think, with my engineering background and my love of systems and systematic thinking, that the structure of the event would be where I found joy. But I didn’t. And I think, mostly, it’s because of what contrasted with this event: confirmation class and the Thursday night service. It was in those later events where I felt that substance, content, and structure were more intertwined and I had more…opportunities to combine those things together. I got to be involved in the content, in the substance, in what was being said. And, for the social media bootcamp, I didn’t feel the same connection.

I think, in the end, I’ve got to learn a lot about event planning but, well, it doesn’t speak to me very much. I wonder how much that will influence my future choices in ministry. Hmmm.

So that is what Supply Preaching is like

Well, today was a big day: I lead worship as a supply preacher for the first time. And I was paid too! Hotdog! It’s like I’m a professional now or something.

A friend of mine took some time off to visit her family and asked me to step into the pulpit for her today. She’s recently ordained and has started a new call up in Westchester. Last week, I ordered and picked up my first set of vestments (an alb – nothing fancy but hey, it is a start), wrote a sermon and a children’s message, and got ready to lead a service of the Word (no presiding over the Lord’s Supper for me quite yet). This morning, bright and early, I headed to the Metronorth station in Harlem, boarded the train, and away I went.

I was a tad nervous about the whole experience but it went smoothly. A member of the congregation came and picked me up from the station. The church is small but is a beautiful space, recently redone, with great lighting and just a great location. I, sadly, did not have enough time to take a picture of the church (I know, that’s shocking, but I had to leave right after the service to catch my train back into the city). I was warned that the pews wouldn’t be filled at the start of church (10 am) but most people were there by 10:15. About thirty people filled the pews, four young boys came up for a chat, I delivered the sermon, sung some hymns, and blessed the audience a couple of times. What worried me the most wasn’t the sermon or standing in front of everyone – it was doing the cross movement correctly. I’m still not sure if it looked great but, hey, I’ve got time to practice.

The service only took fifty minutes and, afterwards, everyone was very gracious and kind to me. Everyone thanked me for coming and wished me luck on my future studies. I thanked them for having me, chatted a bit about the church itself, and even did a little pastoral care as well. And I even snuck a clementine away during coffee hour! It was delicious. I heard some of the history of the church, talked to some of the old ladies, and thanked everyone (over and over again) for having me there. Another church member took me back to the station to catch my return train at 11:17 am. I was back in my apartment by 12:30, in plenty of time for today’s playoff games. Talk about time management.

Anyways, below is the text of the sermon I delivered today. My children’s message was about New Year’s resolutions (and trying to convince the kids that they should try and clean their rooms once a week – their parents were excited about that) and the promises that God gives to us in Baptism. I went further into that theme through the main sermon. I’m not sure how..robust..my sermon was (I wrote it in a few hours on Friday morning) but I’m happy with how it turned out and how I delivered it. I knew very little about the congregation except that it was small and had recently encounter a lot of change. But I did find it strange to write a sermon for a group of people I didn’t know and for a physical space that I knew nothing about. In fact, I’ve never been to that part of Westchester before. It was all brand new to me. But I made it a goal of mine to try and not be so wooden in my delivery. I’m getting better at it.

Today’s Readings: Genesis 1:1-5, Psalm 29, Acts 19:1-7, Mark 1:4-11.

Let us begin in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Why baptize Jesus?

I mean, it seems strange, doesn’t it? Jesus, the Son of God, the Messiah, goes to John the Baptist, who is out in the wilderness, and gets baptized. Sure, he wasn’t baptized in the way we are all baptized in the church – John never said “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” but that word – baptize – it is the same word we use. For us, it means so much, I mean, it stands for the deepening of our relationship with God. For us Lutherans, we see Baptism as God coming down to us, reaching out to us, and changing us – beginning the process of making us right with God. So why would Jesus, the Son of God, need that? And why would we, as a church, decide that every Sunday after Epiphany in the Church Year, we’ll talk about Jesus’ baptism? Sure, it’s important to the story; it’s in all four gospels. And it’s also important because every gospel writer struggled with it – there are enough differences in each narrative to see that each writer was a little weirded out about the whole thing: and then later in Mark chapter 11, that whole discussion about Jesus’ authority and authority being tie to who baptized him – that shows that the strangeness of this event didn’t just go away. But what about us? Why is Jesus’s baptism important to us, right here, right now, today?

While doing some research, I discovered that this question – it’s been a question that every person in every place has had to wrestle with. The meanings that come from this little incident – well, it’s kind of endless. There is no easy answer here because it is a strange event. And the meaning is, well, it’s like water. It’s fluid, liquid, it seems to move around a lot. In the fourth century, an archbishop of Constantinople, Gregory Nazianzus, preached on this very issue. And he said something that spoke to me. He said that “[Jesus] needed no purifying rites himself – his purpose was to hallow water.” Jesus’s purpose was to join with the water – to be tied to the elements that we use in our own baptisms and make it holy. For Gregory, the point wasn’t about who was doing the baptizing but rather what Jesus was doing when Jesus entered the water; when he felt it poured on his head; when he he was touched by the waves – and Jesus was changing it. He was making it different. The water was no longer just water but something new.

And that seems to me to be more like the story of Jesus that we know, that we share in, that we are joined into in our own baptisms. That seems more like the Jesus we proclaim – a Jesus not afraid to enter into lives, into our experiences, into our world, and to get a little dirty, a little messy, a little wet, and change things. God doesn’t enter our lives as if we live in a vacuum. God doesn’t erase what is there, or act like we’re a blank slate or as if we don’t live in the world we call home. Instead, God takes a look around, sees who we are, where we are, and enters into a relationship with us by being included into the world, not apart from it. Jesus didn’t turn the water into something other than water. Instead, he hallowed it, he made it holy. He entered into a relationship with it – and brought it to its full potential.

And that’s God’s promise to us in our baptism.

Now, like many of you I’m guessing, I don’t remember my baptism. I don’t remember when the water poured over me. Pictures were taken, of course, and I’ve seen them. I’m all wrapped up in this white poofy thing that’s way too big for me. And in the pictures, my parents are holding me and my brother, and my grandparents are around them too. The priest is there, and so are members of the congregation. And the font – it was just this little old thing. More like a silver bowl than a fountain. But it was there, in that little bath, when I was only six weeks old, that in the water, God made a promise to me. God promised, in the Word and the Sacrament, to nourish me, to embrace me, to standby me, to rebuke me, and to not give up on me. And Lord knows, that’s not a promise I’ve been very good at living up to. When the Holy Spirit descended onto Jesus, and he heard a voice say “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” – how many of us can live up to that? How long does it take for us – to break that statement – when we wake up in the morning? An hour? Thirty Minutes? Or maybe – if you’re like me – you only really get to that point, to be the beloved, after your first cup of coffee. Before that – Lord help us.

But that’s the beauty of this baptism – a promise from God that doesn’t depend on us. It doesn’t depend on our behavior, or who does it, or when it happens. It doesn’t even depend on whether we fully believed when the water was poured over us. Our relationship with God comes fully from God. It’s God taking the initiative, to reach out to us, and to declare to us that we are beloved. We don’t come to Jesus but rather Jesus comes to us. Jesus comes to the water, Jesus makes it holy, Jesus heals, Jesus preaches, Jesus shares in the Kingdom of God, and it is Jesus who ends up on the Cross, crucified, despised, ridiculed, showing that God doesn’t work the way we expect, that God doesn’t do the things we assume God does, but that God enters into those places where we least expect and shows that God hasn’t given up on the world and that Jesus Christ hasn’t given up on us. Jesus is willing to make us new. Jesus is willing to enter into our lives, to see what is there, and to break down the barriers so that we can live out the promise that God has given to each and every one of us.

Now, we know that Jesus was baptized once. And for each of us who have been baptized – it happened to us once too. We don’t do it over and over again even though it might seem right to do so. We’re gonna screw up, we’re gonna make mistakes, we’re gonna end up falling far short from the promise of love that God has given to us. It might seem reasonable for us to rewash ourselves, to try and get that God mojo working on us again, over and over. But baptism – as much as it is an ending, it is really more a beginning. It’s a beginning of our relationship with God, the beginning of when God’s promise reaches out to us and where God claims us as God’s own. It’s not a one-time event as if it’s a magic trick or a power or a force that only hits us once. The dove that descended on Jesus doesn’t leave him. It lives in him, with him, through him. And in our baptism, we are bound to God through, with, and in Jesus Christ. We’re going to feel like we need to have our baptism renewed every day – but that promise of God is given to us unconditionally. We’re going to fall short – but God isn’t. Instead, we’re given the tools to feed us, and nourish us, and refresh us, and help our baptismal promises grow. We’re given the church, we’re given the Bible and the Scriptures, we’re given these four walls, the bread and wine, and the affirmations of our baptism – an affirmation that we will all share in very shortly.

And we’re also given each other.

And that’s the beauty of our baptism. It doesn’t belong only to us. Look around – our baptism is our neighbors baptism. When we’re baptized, we are not baptized to only ourselves. We’re baptized into Christ and into the church – the community of faith that, at its best, prays for us, walks with us, and loves us. And we do the same for others. Sadly, it doesn’t always seem like that – like ourselves, the church has failed to live out it’s own baptismal calling – it’s own calling to proclaim Christ, to love all, to include all, and to share that love with our neighbors, no matter who they are. Because that’s the invitation that we are all given in our baptism. When the water is poured over us three times, and when the community arounds us says the creed, we are invited – in the words of Martin Luther – to be little Christ’s to one another. Because what happens when Jesus is baptized? For Mark, that is the beginning. When Jesus is baptized, the road is set. Jesus’s ministry begins. He leaves the wilderness and reenters the world. He calls and trains disciples. He preaches the Kingdom of God. He welcomes all to his table. He forgives sins. He breaks bread with those who society say are unworthy. He heals the sick, he preaches good news to the poor, he tells all that God has not given up on them. He, above all, loves. And that love – that love that we are given freely – that’s grace. That’s what saves us. And that love – well – since we are loved first – we are invited to reflect that love into every aspect of our lives, into our relationships, and into our world. It’s one of the ways, through us, through our hands, that God helps make this world holy.

Amen.

Merry Christmas, Merry Merry Christmas: Photobombing the CBS Christmas Special

So, on Christmas Eve Night, the CBS Christmas special was shown. It was actually filmed in early November at my seminary (General Theological Seminary). Even though I didn’t do anything during the service except sit in the audience, if you watch closely, you’ll see my lovely face all over the place. And, lucky for you, the entire thing is on youtube! We’ve still got a few more days in this Christmas Season so enjoy.

Letters of Call

There isn’t a whole lot of religiousness in my family tree (except for a 16th century saint). The same isn’t true in my wife’s family however. Two of her great-grandparents were clergymen in the free-church/baptist traditions. And during this Christmas trip, I got to see their letters of call.

I’ll admit that, ever since I entered seminary, I’m a little nosey when it comes to letters of call. I’ve seen a few but I want to see more. I’m curious what the differences are between pre-ELCA letters of call and the current letters. I want to know if they change every year or if they are the same. I want to know how they’re formatted, what font they use, how easy they are to frame, what kind of paper they are printed on, what kind of inks are used, and how elaborate (or boring) they appear. I’m sure once I get my own (God-willing), I’ll have a few answers to share. But, for now, the letters of my ancestors-by-marriage will have to do.

The first up is my wife’s grandfather’s father. He was a preacher in England and was good friends with Billy Graham. He helped setup Billy Graham in England, organized crusades, and even answered some of Billy’s correspondence. In December 1933, he was added to the ministerial rolls of “The Baptist Union of Great Britain and Ireland”.

Letter of Call
Click the image to view it at a larger size

Next up is my wife’s grandmother’s father. He never received an M.Div degree, was educated at the Moody Bible Institute, and was called as a minister by 9 “messengers” from 5 congregations in December 2, 1921. I love the title of the piece “Set for the Defense of the Gospel.”

Letter of Call
Click the image to view it at a larger size

Although both letters are not part of my denomination’s tradition, both are letters of call issued by different bodies of the wider church. I find these pieces of paper, and what they mean and symbolize, to be just fascinating.

UPDATE: After posting, my father-in-law informed me that there are other folks in the their ancestry that were called towards authority in religious communities as well. My wife’s great-great-grandfather was a Yeshiva student in the Ukraine who was murdered (in front of his family) by a pogram in the 1890s.

I keep checking for my grades at least three times a day

Even though it is only December 28, I keep checking to see if my grades have been posted online. My fellow students told me to not even bother checking them until mid-January but, well, I can’t help it. I want to see how well (or how poorly) I did.

My vacation in Florida has been going well. I’ve been spending most of my time eating, visiting family, drinking diet soda (since Florida’s tap water is a little rough), and reading. In fact, in the week I’ve been here, I’ve finished one book (Biography of a Mexican Crucifix) and started and read three more (The Pastor: A Spirituality, God’s Battalions, The Tiger’s Wife). I’ve got one more left in my queue and then….I don’t know. Maybe I’ll actually pick up a few of the books I bought for classes last semester that never actually ended up being assigned (wasting money – grumble grumble).

Talk talk talk

Tonight, while visiting with my aunt and some family members on my wife’s side, my aunt noticed that I was much more talkative than normal (i.e. wisecracks, wisecracks, wisecracks). I thought about it for a bit and I think she’s right. I’ve been chatting more, joking a lot, and not minding throwing my opinion around. In my wife’s words, “they’re getting to know you like I know you: you don’t shut up.” I think the wine helps but I also think that my CPE experience has helped a well. I’ve had to chat with folks who died, kids who were sick, etc. After that experience, I guess I don’t mind running my mouth anymore.