You know the saying: “We plan; God laughs.”  I’m not big on anthropomorphic imagery for the Divine, but I sure get the idea.  I’ve learned over and over again that my big ideas and plans can be changed at any time by God, Goddess, Spirit, the Universe, the Tao, the Holy One – however you want to name the creative force at loose in the world. Years ago, all the church growth gurus were telling us that we had to have a long-range plan in order to be a “successful” church. Personal growth gurus were peddling the same advice, asking: “Where do you want to be in 5 years? In 10 years?”  A book title said it all: If You Don’t Know Where You’re Going, You’ll Probably End Up Someplace Else.

Now believe me, as an Uber-One on the Enneagram, I love making plans, creating agendas, checking things off to-do lists. But in so many ways, in spite of thinking that I knew where I was going – both personally and professionally – I have ended up someplace else. And God laughs – because it’s all better than what I had so carefully mapped out.

My favorite “God laughs” story is from my pre-seminary days. I had just gotten a new job at Westminster Press as a result of my Big Plan to get into publishing after working in retail bookselling for many years. Visiting former coworkers back at the bookstore, I crowed about my cushy new 9-5, Monday-Friday hours: ”I will never have to work on Sunday again!”

Can’t you just hear the Divine giggles?

And now it seems that my congregation is being pulled into a new kind of ministry. Not only are we continuing to live into this new Lutheran/Episcopal partnership, we’re also being offered an opportunity to be part of a new outreach to the “Nones.” At the same time, I’m feeling called to get serious about writing my book.

None of this was my plan. But it’s all good.

I still create agendas and lists and think about where I want to be in 5 years, etc.  Planning is necessary, however there is just  one stipulation: when you hear God laughing, get out of the way!

We used to call it evangelism.  Sometimes we’d go out and knock on doors, inviting people to come to our churches. We subscribed to the definition of evangelism as ”one beggar telling another beggar where to find bread.” Mostly though, we relied pretty heavily on people finding their own way to our doors and becoming assimilated into the culture of the congregation.

Then we started talking about church growth. When Baby Boomers began to face the challenge of GenX and subsequent generations, the “church growth movement” went into overdrive.  We learned how to create “seeker services,” incorporating contemporary music and simpler messages in order to attract people who weren’t interested in traditional ways of being church. “Entertainment evangelism” came into our language and was both embraced and reviled.

In the 90′s, I went to a workshop presented by Community Church of Joy, which was at that time THE model of how to grow the church. CCoJ had grown from 200 members to 1200 and we all wanted to follow their example (or in the language of the day, their paradigm shift). Now, however, even some of those who were in the forefront of that movement have recognized the flaws in the model.

And now we’re talking about how to reach out to the “nones,” the “spiritual but not religious,” the “unaffiliated,” the “church alumni society.”  So what’s our strategy today?

I don’t think we have one. And I think part of the problem is that we still want to be the ones doing the talking, the telling, the convincing. It’s inherent in our understanding of evangelism, i.e. “telling the Good News.” But if we’re serious about reaching out to people, not as a strategy to fill our empty pews or offering envelopes, we’re going to have to learn how to listen.

The author of the quote about beggars finding food is D. T. Niles (1908-1970), a Methodist pastor from Sri Lanka, who also said that “the Western pot must be broken and the gospel planted in the native soil.” He could have been talking to us today, not about foreign mission, but outreach in our own communities. We need to listen and learn the context of the people with whom we hope to develop a relationship.

What this means, though, is that we too will be changed in the process. The church will be changed. And for that reason, many won’t be able to make the necessary shift. They’ll be too busy circling the wagons. But again, D. T. Niles comes through (I’ve really enjoyed learning about him!), and again he’s speaking to us today: “Authentic Christianity never destroys what is good. It makes it grow, transfigures it, and enriches itself from it.”

Are we willing to grow, to be transfigured and enriched? Perhaps evangelism today has to begin with us. Only then will we be ready to offer others our bread.

Yes, I’m finally getting down to business and writing the book that’s been bugging me to be written for the past 10 years. The working title is:  “Pluralism in the New Re-formation: what does it mean to be Christian in a religiously diverse world?”

Most of us have had the experience of encountering a person of another religious tradition. As we listen and learn about what others believe, it’s natural to have questions about our own teachings, biblical interpretations and worship practices. My goal is to create a practical book that will help Christians wrestle with these questions around being respectful of other religions while remaining faithful to their own.

When I was working on my doctorate 10 years ago, I had several inter-religious groups that helped me explore that question. But a lot has happened in 10 years, and I’d really love to get more input from both clergy and lay folks.  So here’s what I’d be interested in hearing from you:

1.  Has your experience or knowledge of other religious traditions raised any questions for you about your own? If so, what are they?

2.  In light of your own interfaith awareness, are there Bible passages that are problematic for you? If so, what are they?  (you can paraphrase)

3.  In light of your interfaith awareness, are there other Christian teachings that you wonder about? If so, what are they?

4.  In light of your interfaith awareness, are there parts of hymns or liturgies that raise questions in your mind? If so, what are they?

5.  Are there any other questions or comments on this subject that you’d like to include?

You can respond here or email your answers to pastorsusan@fulc.com. I won’t use you name unless I get your permission later on in the writing process. Thanks in advance to those of you who will participate!

Since tomorrow is Trinity Sunday, it might be wise to heed the advice of whoever created this Facebook post. But, in fact, there are several ways I could go:

 - Fall back on the old water/ice/steam illustration
– Throw up my hands and declare the Trinity a “mystery”
– Ignore it altogether (go with the kittens)
– Try to re-imagine this idea of God as Three-in-One

A lot of people I talk to seem like the ‘ignore it altogether’ option. In fact, when we sold our church building six years ago and rented space at the Unitarian Church, people would ask, “Why don’t you just become Unitarian?” I would answer, “Because we’re not Unitarians,” not meaning any disrespect to our landlords. I knew the comments came from the fact that our two congregations shared many of the same beliefs and commitments to social justice issues. But the fact remained that every week we begin and end our liturgy in the name of God: Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Just because we insist on inclusive language doesn’t make us any less Trinitarian.

I’m all for the re-imagining option. And by that, I don’t mean just making up something new. So much of what progressive Christianity is doing is reclaiming ancient truths and redeeming them from the bonds of rationalized doctrinization. So, for instance, we can go back to the concept of perichoresis, imagined by theologians as early as the 4th century. The word, from the Greek ‘peri’ (around) and ‘chorea’ (dance), means ‘to dance around.’

Think choreography. Or imagine the circle dancing at a Greek wedding, where dancers weave in and out in a beautiful pattern, moving faster and faster and faster, eventually becoming just a blur, yet remaining in sync and relationship with each other. The early church mothers and fathers observed this movement, this relationality, this intimate intricacy and said, “Aha! This is what the Trinity is like!”

Scientists today are discovering the same kind of wonders. From neutrons, protons and atoms to  planets, stars and galaxies, there are similarities of patterns. There are relationships between them, which Richard Rohr calls ‘the flow.’  He says, “The flow is where the life is at . . . the energy in the universe is not in the planets or the protons or neutrons, but in the relationship between them, in the space between them, in  the movement between them – in the Dance itself.”

So it looks like I’m going with option #4. No more literalized and wooden doctrine of the Trinity for me. I’m going to go with the Flow and join in the Dance – in the name of the Holy One: Creator, Redeemer + and Sustainer.

In August of 2002, on my journey cross country, my traveling companion and I decided to stop and see the sights in Salt Lake City. Checking into the motel, one of the first ‘sights’ was a sign taped to the wall by the front desk: KIDNAPPED. It was a flyer for 14-year-old Elizabeth Smart, who had been abducted from her bedroom on June 5. She wouldn’t be found until the following March, so at the time I saw that flyer, Elizabeth was in the midst of a horrific ordeal of sexual, physical and emotional abuse.

By all accounts, Elizabeth appears to have made a remarkable recovery. She’s become an activist in supporting  sexual predator legislation and the AMBER Alert system. In 2011, she founded the Elizabeth Smart Foundation to (according to the mission statement) “prevent and stop predatory crimes,” and was the keynote speaker at the 2011 Crimes Against Children conference. Now married, Elizabeth Smart-Gilmour has also critiqued the religious teachings that negated her sense of self-worth and advocates for sex education that focuses on how to avoid becoming a victim, rather than on purity.

She has also become a voice of empowerment for others who have endured similar horrors. She responded to the news of Jaycee Dugard’s rescue with words of compassion and wisdom for Jaycee and her family. And now, both Elizabeth and Jaycee are speaking out to the three women in Cleveland, reminding Amanda, Gina and Michelle that it will take time to heal and reconnect with the world. And, perhaps most important of all: this was not your fault.

We all need to hear these messages. And we need to resist our society’s proclivity to “blame the victim” from entering into any of our thoughts, discussions, assessments, blogs, comments, etc. about this case. We need to look to these strong, resilient young women who have endured trials beyond imagining and know that they have a powerful story to share – not of victimization, but of strength. Our hope should be that Amanda, Gina and Michelle will emerge from their time of healing and become equally strong voices and advocates of girl power.

 

I thought it would be rather anti-climactic. First United was going to be welcomed at our Sierra Pacific Synod assembly. I wondered whether, by delaying our decision to rejoin the ELCA as long as we did, the moment had passed; people just wouldn’t be interested any longer. After all, we voted to rejoin the denomination last summer. Our service of reconciliation and healing was in October. What was left to be said?

I needn’t have worried. After the bishop called council president Steve Johnson and myself up to the podium, the response of the assembly was overwhelmingly warm and affirming. It looks like I’m scowling in the picture, but I wasn’t. I was feeling a sense of awe as the sustained applause washed over us. It was a satisfying finale to the long journey of this congregation through expulsion and readmission.

And now we’re back. But to what have we returned? I must say that this year’s assembly had a different feel to it. Maybe it’s because we’ve moved on from debating endlessly about sexuality. Maybe it’s because most of those who were opposed to full inclusion have left. In any event, the theme of ‘Re-formation’ was front and center.

It was refreshing to hear a key-note speaker addressing the reality of declining church membership in a way that didn’t whine or reminisce about the ‘good old days.’ Instead, David J. Lose, Director of the Center for Biblical Preaching at Luther Seminary, encouraged us to avoid  beginning from a negative, problem based position and to reframe our situation – using our imagination and creativity to be a church that is able to connect to the needs of the people in our communities.

A few of the memorable quotes from David J. Lose, Director of the Center for Biblical Preaching at Luther Seminary:

• “The bad news: there is no plan. The good news: there is no plan.”
• “Seminaries are the repositories of the best practices of the last generation.”
• “Let the youth lead.”
• “We’re writing a new chapter in Acts.” (via Ruben Doran, ELCA Director for Development of New Congregations)

Lots to think about. Lots to do. All in all, it’s good to be back.

In many churches, next week will be the annual observance of Pluralism Sunday. The first one, sponsored by the Center for Progressive Christianity (now ProgressiveChristianity.org), was Pentecost 2007. Since then, it’s observed on the first Sunday in May.

Pluralism Sunday addresses one of the “8 Points of Progressive Christianity” -
By calling ourselves progressive, we mean we are Christians who affirm that the teachings of Jesus
provide but one of many ways to experience the Sacredness and Oneness of life, and that we can draw from diverse sources of wisdom in our spiritual journey. 

Ho, hum. Just another day in the San Francisco Bay bubble? I don’t think so.
Consider the reactions of many Muslim Americans after the Boston Marathon bombings: ”Please don’t let it be a Muslim!” They knew very well what was coming: the ignorant stereotyping, ranting and fear mongering; the calls for barring immigration from Muslim countries, outlawing women’s headscarves and other curtailing of religious freedom.

On a link from the Pluralism Project at Harvard University, the title says it all: “This Is What It’s Like to Be A Muslim in Boston Right Now.” As a 22-year-old office worker said, “My heart was beating fast, just praying that this person didn’t turn out to be Muslim. I knew that if they were, all was going to break loose.”

Journalist Glenn Greenwald called the aftermath of the bombings a “political event” because “it was infused with all kinds of political messages about Muslims . . .

Because when the person is a white Christian or a white American, there’s an attempt instantly to assure everybody that it’s simply kind of a one-off. That it doesn’t have a political content, that the person is mentally ill, that they’re a lone actor, that they just snap, is usually the jargon, to assure everybody that there’s no political conclusions that ought to be drawn.

When the person though is Muslim, everything reverses. So there’s no consideration to the possibility that they were mentally ill, that they simply snapped, that they were being driven by political considerations of alienation or frustration about things in their lives. Instead, there’s an assumption that this bolsters the idea that we face this grave and potentially even existential threat from radical Muslims against whom we’ve been fighting this decade-long war. And it really bolsters the premises of that war by ratcheting up the fear levels and by reaffirming the political convictions in which it’s grounded.

This is why it’s even more important to observe Pluralism Sunday this year – even if you don’t agree with all the details of the ’8 Points’ statement about other religions (it’s not meant to be a creed, but a starting point for discussion). So have a discussion.  If you don’t know any Muslims, contact your local ecumenical or interfaith council and ask to be introduced. Inquire about a visit to a neighboring mosque. Then extend an invitation to visit your place of worship. Eat together. Share some music and stories.

We’ve all got to take responsibility for combatting the misinformation and other irresponsible behaviors that pass for patriotism.  Pluralism Sunday is a good way to begin.

The title of the new thread on a conservative discussion board was “Here We Go Again” and the participants once again went at each other over the burning question of whether it’s proper for a Christian pastor to participate in an interfaith service.

The ‘again’ was in reference to the fact that it had been just a very short time ago that they were commenting on the news that a Missouri Synod Lutheran pastor had been forced to apologize for taking part in the interfaith prayer service held in Newtown, CT after the shootings at the Sandy Hook Elementary School. And once again, the majority of those chiming in agreed that it most definitely had not been appropriate.

Granted, they expressed compassion and the need for pastoral care of victims, families and the community. These are not heartless people. But their theology is so bound to the belief that ‘Jesus is the only way to salvation’ that praying with those who don’t believe that is akin to consorting with godless heathen.

They needn’t have worried. This time around, the LC-MS pastor declined the invitation to take part in the service organized by groups including the Massachusetts Council of Churches. Laura Everett, director of the council, said they hoped to represent the breadth of religious traditions in the city and find “a common language for us to pray together.” The pastor of the church in Cambridge decided either that they don’t have any common language in which to pray or that it wasn’t worth the fallout that would come from doing it.

It’s too bad. Diversity isn’t going to go away. Unfortunately, neither is the need for community response to tragedy. It is possible to be a Christian and participate with integrity in interfaith services. When we held our ‘Healing the World’ conference several years ago, we told all the groups who were leading worship services or meditations to do so according to their tradition, no watering down of who they are or what they do. The same held true for the Christian service on Sunday morning. I don’t have to deny my faith in order to respect someone else’s. Attendees had the choice to participate in as much of a particular service as the felt comfortable. There was room  for a broad spectrum of spirituality and tradition.

Of course, I know that kind of event just won’t fly with my conservative sisters and brothers. And again, it’s too bad. By isolating themselves from the public square when their brand of religion is not recognized as the only one, they miss out on both the richness of the religious tapestry – and the opportunity to present a unified front of compassion and pastoral care to a hurting community and world.

I HATE MOVING!!!  OK, now I’ve got that out of my system I can tell you that I’ve moved – again. Not my residence this time. The church office. We’ve left our suite of offices in a funky Victorian walk-up and moved over to where we worship. For the first time since 2007, our offices are at the same address as our worship space.

If you’re unfamiliar with First United’s recent history, here it is in a nutshell:

• Sold building at 30th & Geary for a very good price – just before the real estate market crashed!
• Began worshipping in the chapel at First Unitarian Universalist, SF
• Shared office (literally a closet with no windows) with admin/music director across the street in Urban Life Center
• After one very claustrophobic year, moved into new digs about 5 blocks from the church
• Last summer, moved in with St Cyprian’s Episcopal Chuch, but kept offices off-site
• This weekend, desks, boxes, copier, files, music, etc. now piled in new offices

As much as I hate moving and the chaotic aftermath of settling in, this was the right thing to do. Not only will I no longer have to schlep stuff back and forth from office to church, it will also give us a more visible presence in the neighborhood. It’ll also make it easier to meet with my Episcopalian counterpart and other staff at St. Cyprian’s.

This move also reminds me yet again of the nature of the church of today. We have to be open to creative ways of being and doing – beginning with the use of our church buildings. We no longer have the luxury of being isolated pockets, tucked away inside our own walled castles. Instead of bemoaning the plight of the church, the demise of denominational loyalty, shrinking membership, the glory days of big youth groups – how about if we put our energy into exploring what a truly collaborative church might look like.

I can tell you this: it can be messy. Sharing a space with another congregation, trying to forge a partnership between the two, navigating the  shoals of ownership, territoriality, trust-building, leadership styles, worship styles, denominational polity, etc., etc., etc. . . messy!  But it’s the right thing to do.

So tomorrow I’ll turn in the keys to my old office and brave the chaos in the new. Metaphor alert: isn’t this just what we’re being called to do in this thing called the church of the 21st century?

Yes, it’s Easter. Alleluia! The celebration continues through the Great 50 Days all the way to Pentecost.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean that everything is now hunky-dory and we all should be happy, happy, happy.

Because for some people, the stone has not yet been rolled away. For some, it’s still Holy Saturday , that in-between time twixt death and resurrection. Something has happened – death, tragedy, illness, job loss, financial woe, family crisis – and hope for anything positive coming out of it is dim at best.

If you’re not feeling the Easter joy, I have just two words for you: it’s OK. The point of Easter isn’t that there’s one particular day when your tomb will be opened and your problem will be resolved. In fact, Easter isn’t about time at all. Yes, we celebrate a particular time in history, when a man named Jesus died and – in some inexplicable, mystical, controversial way – was experienced as being alive again.

But the point of Easter goes way beyond that event 2000+ years ago. Resurrection, that is, impossible possibility, is available to us as well. All the time. Just not usually in a neatly packaged time frame of three days. In fact, there is no time frame for the experience of being entombed.

That doesn’t mean, however, that we need to feel hopeless. Recognizing our situation, feeling the pain, sitting quietly with it, being very gentle and kind to ourselves is part of the in-between time. No guilt about not being in ‘the Easter mood’ or not dying any eggs this year or not caring that the ‘Alleluia’ has returned to the liturgy.

It’s OK. Because Easter is about hope. Even if you don’t feel any.

It would be wonderful to be able to make promises about how our problems will all get resolved and in three days, no less. We know that’s not how it goes. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a very real impossible possibility with the power to roll our heavy boulder away.

The blessing of Holy Saturday – for however long it is for each of us – is peace in the midst of pain, hope in the midst of despair, a community of support even while feeling terribly alone.

The stone will be rolled away. In time.

In the meantime, it’s OK.