United Church of Christ

GS27: Leadership development

Eboo Patel addressed the UCC General Synod today, calling on our church to be a community of bridge-builders, developing and growing a structure of leadership for today’s pluralist America.

He encouraged the church to “build young people who are interfaith leaders.”  With all due respect to Eboo (whom I have met on a number of occasions and am deeply infatuated with his work), I’m wondering if he’s met many of the congregations in our church.

With around 2% of our clergy being under age 35, we certainly don’t have a lot of young people in pastoral ministry.  With one of the highest average ages among American church groups, the United Church of Christ has occupied itself with many of the issues that face its demographic position: ’60s and ’70s style community organizing, ’60s and ’70s style justice issues, ’60s and ’70s style leadership development.

We’re open-minded, non-scripturally-literal folk — we don’t focus much on ecumenism and inter-faith efforts not because we’re closed-off, but because we simply don’t know how. After it was apparent that we would not be a United Church as in other places like Canada, Australia and India, where a majority of the national Protestant bodies came together to create one unified church structure, we moved on to other things.  We quit talking about our own faith.  Rather than attempting to explain what we are, we took up our identity as what we are not: we became an anti- church.

And so we developed the status quo.  We continue doing what we do because we simply don’t know what else to do.  People died off, and we wring our hands in lament over a society that doesn’t refill the pews like it used to.  Hot damn, we actually have to do something to get people to come in the doors!  (Even scarier, we might even have to go outside them ourselves!)

I was reading a study not too long ago (I’ll Google it sometime and link from here) about how the majority of clergy surveyed identified as introverts.  In the same study, lay church members placed the primary responsibility for outreach, membership development and recruitment (I hate the word “evangelism”) on the pastor’s shoulders.  Hello?  Does anyone else see a disconnect there?

Growing up, I learned the two things one doesn’t speak about in polite conversation are politics and religion.  As I went through college, the two most popular topics among my peers were politics and religion.  In the case of the latter, we all were finding our own ways in the world, accompanied by our own canons of experiences, books, and resources, because so many people didn’t know where to go!  I have a number of under-30 friends who sought out advice and counsel from Christian pastors, only to end up claiming Buddhist and Muslim labels for themselves and initiating themselves in those faiths because their laypeople and clerics would speak directly to their beliefs! What a telling statement about so many of our churches today.

To the UCC, I hope that we keep Eboo’s challenge to us as we reimagine our church.  The early Christian church of Paul’s day was deeply influenced by its encompassing Hellenistic culture of the time.  Our own UCC has been deeply influenced by the American culture of the 1960s and 1970s.  What does the church of the 2010s look like, and how do we build our leadership and structure our organization for the rapidly-changing, quickly-evolving future?

(Side note: this article and its follow-up from the Massachusetts Conference are over eight years old, but I believe a good, quick read to illustrate the demographic and financial structural flaws of our current system in the UCC and why it is absolutely imperative to change tracks.)

The real story of seminary debt

An open letter to judicatory heads, seminary financial aid administrators, and all those connected to faith-based leadership.

When I graduate from seminary in 2011, I may have a cumulative $97,300 (1)  in student loan debt.  Based on an extended 30-year repayment plan, an average 6.80% interest rate and zero loan fees, my monthly payment will be $634.32 and amount to $131,058.98 in interest payments over those 360 payments.  In order to afford that monthly payment, according to federal financial aid guidelines, I should earn an annual salary of at least $76,118.40. (2)

As a Student In Care of the Southeast Wisconsin Association, should I graduate and secure a call in an “average” Wisconsin Conference congregation paying moderate guidelines, I can expect a salary of $33,039 (3), or  $43,079.40 less than the recommended salary for my debt load, representing a 56% reduction. (4)

I grew up with a commitment to the church and have felt God’s call to ministry tugging on me throughout my life.  Despite facing rejection from the church in the past, I continue forward in faith that God will provide.  I find myself today receiving affirmation of my strong candidacy for ordained ministry: a pastoral identity, experience as professional communication staff in a middle judicatory office, a commitment to community-based ministry, a unique perspective from my generational location.  I received my undergraduate degree from a church-related institution, and am building up my resume in seminary through two distinctive international experiences.

Yet as I look at the hard numbers, I feel I am forced up against a wall facing another round of rejection from the church in lack of financial support.  Due to budget constraints at my school, McCormick Theological Seminary, my individual financial aid package was reduced from covering 88% of tuition to 55% for 2009-10.  I must now take out an additional $5,000 in student loans to cover the shortfall, pushing my debt even higher.

Besides tuition, there are myriad other costs related to theological education: books, transportation, insurance, housing, food, communication, photocopies, etc.  I changed my permanent residency to Illinois in order to qualify for government assistance in the form of food stamps, which has helped my bottom line each month somewhat.  I work three jobs just to try and make ends meet, yet I still rely heavily on student loan money to cover housing and part of my insurance costs. (5)

I have sought out and applied for a number of grants and scholarships, including from our United Church of Christ National Offices, and either have not qualified for or been rejected from each and every one.  I gratefully received a $500 stipend from the Association last year, along with $400 from my congregation (Plymouth, Milwaukee.)  I appreciate the generosity of McCormick donors for providing a substantial portion of my education costs, yet as my loan balance inches closer and closer to the $100,000 mark, I become more apprehensive and concerned.  Where is the church supporting me?

I ask not for a golden parachute, but as we as a church look at our future, we need to look closely at our future leadership.  How we invest in our leadership, the requirements we establish for education, and the support we offer directly relates to how well we can attract and retain highly-skilled, motivated, and qualified individuals for our pulpits and ministries.  Even more, it demonstrates our commitment to a Christ-like labor justice.

Notes: (1) Based on current financial trends; includes $23,000 in private loans from undergraduate education, $14,300 in subsidized and unsubsidized Stafford loans from undergraduate education, and up to $60,000 in subsidized and unsubsidized Stafford loans from seminary. (2)  See financial aid calculator at http://www.finaid.org/calculators/loanpayments.phtml  (3) For comparison’s sake, my first professional job following college, which required only bachelor’s-level education and was professional staff within the church structure, started at $31,250 in 2006.  Based on real 2008 dollars, the UCC salary is actually less than my 2006 salary adjusted for inflation: $33,039 versus $33,345.75.  (4) According to the US Census Bureau, the average salary for those with master’s degrees is $62,300.  (5) Average monthly expenditures of $1,435 versus income of $650.  Loan transfers to balance average $785.

Annual Meeting faux pas

I’m currently at the 2009 Wisconsin Conference Annual Meeting. (Click for official AM blog.)  Some people would describe it as a sort-of family get-together, others would compare it more to a professional conference, and I’d agree in part with both of those descriptions.  Basically, for those who are in church denominational structures, the annual judicatorial conference makes sense, because they are all the same just with a different title attached.  For those who aren’t, there’s no adequate description that makes sense, because it just seems to be a bunch of old church people looking for an excuse to drink coffee and eat ice cream and fight about… something.  (And, for the record, that description is partly correct, too.)

This is my first UCC Conference Meeting, and for the most part its been fun.  I’ve enjoyed making new connections and getting to know more people in this adopted church of mine.  People have asked me how I’m liking things, and I’ve usually responded, “A church meeting is a church meeting.”  But I’ll admit to being a little bit of a junkie for things like this and letting my extroversion combine with a complete dorkiness for church polity.  My confusion about UCC structures still abounds, but its nice to see that I can hold my own as I get closer and closer to that 2011 prime time.

I did, however, commit a little faux pas yesterday.  As one enters the meeting space, there is a giant ceramic bowl filled with water, to call us to remember the waters of our baptism no doubt.  As a sacramentalian, even with a memorialist theology, I was overjoyed to see it.  There’s a comfort in ritual for me, and I always whole-heartedly support ways to keep the sacraments front-and-center in all forms of our worship life — and, as we’ve touched on slightly, all of life is worship.

I was excited.  I was comforted.  And then I did it: I dipped my fingers in the water.

And I crossed myself.

What normally comes with a feeling of humility, a reminder of my lowly place in the grand scheme of things, of a connectedness with millions of people throughout the ages and spaces of time was instead a grand recognition of where I was at that moment, caught with wet fingers and spots on my church in the crosshairs of death stares from some of those in one of the most low-church, non-liturgical Christian traditions.

What did you just do? was the question from their eyes.  Do you think we’re Catholic?

But do you know what — I was a communion server, and noticed a couple of people cross themselves as they partook of the elements.  Body of Christ, given for you takes on a different meaning when coupled with that simple forehead-belly-chest-chest-heart action.  Its not a meaning of the substance of the elements, at least not for me.  Its a meaning of ritual, of remembrance.  Its a meaning that, no matter how many times I try to rationalize my mind away from Bloody Jesus of Substitutionary Human Atonement, the cross is still an unimaginably brutal form of capital punishment.  Its a meaning that, no matter how many times I try to rationalize my mind away from the re-creation of that sacrifice for salvation and the idea of real presence in the meal, that this celebration is more than a snack of grain and fruit.

And without that cross, the meaning of the ritual would be irrelevant.  It would be simply water in a bowl, perhaps some sort of consecrated water for ritual washing, but plain old tap water in a bowl nonetheless.  The actions and meanings of our ritual matter.

But even beyond this, the promise of the United Church of Christ is not alignment with a heady, cold, militant, imageless Protestantism of the Reformed tradition — though certainly we owe a great deal of our heritage to that tradition.  The promise is to be a place like the American concept of a melting pot, a place where a variety of theologies, doctrines, and practices can find support and people don’t need to check their minds or their Christian practice at the door.

So even though I know I committed a certain faux pas, I do not apologize, and even though I’ve been trying to “de-liturgize, de-Lutheranize, de-formalize” myself in order to fit in this new church family of mine, I’m not going to try to do so as much anymore.  (Though to do this I’m going to need to instead work on “de-self-consciousizing” myself.)  I’m going to cross myself, both at the font and when partaking of communion.  I’m going to say “sins” instead of “debts” in the Lord’s Prayer.  (I already do most of the time anyway because “debts” just feels so awkward still.)

That’s supposed to be the promise of this church of mine.  And, if anything, it provides just one more avenue of opportunity for conversation and engagement, to meet more people and create more connections in my adopted church family.

Letting go

A story in this week’s Chronicle highlights the shifting change in communication strategy for college and university admissions in light of electronic social media.  (For anyone with some sort of interest or connection to higher education marketing, Brad J. Ward, who is referenced in this article, is a great resource.  Check out his blog and his company.)  I can’t help but connect this to a similar shift in the structural church.

How does the church do church in a social media world?  How does the church do church in a social media world when fewer and fewer of its participants are millenials who expect a democratic communication process?

I was having a conversation with someone a couple of days ago about this very problem.  An organization we are both affiliated with was following the typical prototype of so much church planning and communication: the leadership team makes a proposal, seeks the silent involvement of clergy, the two groups make a final decision in a closed meeting, and announce the results in a newsletter article.  Even those of us who are supposedly knowledgeable of the situation are lost and confused.

I, only quarter-jokingly, added that if the church just ignores what goes on around it, the problem will fade away — you know, because the Vatican proved that model successful after that troublesome monk in Germany started spouting off 500 years ago.

Last Sunday I met with my congregation’s in care committee, a group I relate to as I progress through the ordination and education process.  I shared with them one of my greatest fears for the church — that we continue on our path of being generally 50-60 years behind the mainstream society, which as we go forward will have the social impact of being 150-200 years behind.  Technology now changes on a daily, hourly basis.  Its not a matter of getting e-mail to solve the problem.

The creativity that is shaping up in these admissions offices requires no small part of letting go, of recognizing that the university as a social institution must change and adapt to its new role.  No longer is its voice the “expert opinion.”  Just as much, this is a wonderful opportunity for the church and religious organizations to step forward and model this new behavior, to let go of complete message control.  Especially for those of us in traditions which emphasize mutuality and covenant, democratic governance and the universal priesthood, anything less is simply anathema to our theological understanding.

UCC Series: We Play Well With Others

One of the things that attracted me most to the UCC was its diversity of thought within the denomination, and its deep and abiding partnership with other traditions both inside and outside the Christian faith.

In other countries like ours, the 20th Century included a number of united and uniting church movements.  The United Church in Canada included the vast majority of Presbyterian, Methodist and Congregational churches in that country — and there was even talk and preparation for the Anglicans to join in.  The Uniting Church in Australia has a similar story.  The United States, though, never fully realized the movement.  That’s OK.  We’ve still got room in the UCC even for those who cling to their own labels and definitions.

Some challenge us because we have no prerequisite acquiescence to a set theology or creed.  But how wonderful it is to join together with those who do!  We are able to teach and learn from each other as we are on the great pilgrimage of faith.  On Sunday mornings, one is bound to find as many theological outlooks as there are individuals in the pews.  But we are not a group of individuals, instead we join together to fully engage and employ our God-given intelligence to attempt to understand God better, to more fully be about God’s work in our lives and in the life of the world around us through our discipleship.  In a community like ours, how can we help ourselves from reaching out across sectarian lines?

So, yeah.  We play well with others.  Its a really neat thing.

UCC Series: We’re a Creative Bunch

Read the first installment of this series.

One of the things that I love about the UCC, and that I think we do exceptionally well in comparison to the other mainline denominations, is we’re creative.  Now before the Lutherans start litigating about their creative forces, and the Presbyterians start pontificating about their artistic following, let me remind you I’m not here to start a war.  This isn’t an all-or-nothing summarization.  But you’ve got to admit, the UCC is creative.

Our structure breeds creativity.  Worship is not standardized among the congregations in our church; you’re free to use (or avoid) the UCC Book of Worship… or the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, or the Presbyterian Book of Common Worship, or the Evangelical Lutheran Worship, or Joe’s Book of Pub Rules, or Sally’s Order for School Playgrounds.

Furthermore, Christian Education is equally diverse.  And there’s a growing movement for bringing in the visul arts  — probably because after centuries of whitewashed walls, we’re ready for some living color.  And then there’s our national structure itself.  Describing it as *creative* would be an understatement!

We’re a denomination leading the way for the use of technology in evangelism, mobilization and advocacy.  Church House is twittering, facebooking and blogging.  And for heaven’s sake, we’ve successfully replaced an image of suffering and death (the cross) as our church icon with a comma.  A comma!  It signifies not the end, but a continuation; not resolution, but open-ended freedom.

As a denomination committed to social justice, it makes sense that we breed creativity.  Tough decisions require creative solutions.  The UCC is definitely a place where the right brain need not check itself at the door.

Critic by association

“If you believe love should be uncritical, you may soon be thinking that I do not love this church. But my experience has been that to be a member of the United Church of Christ is, almost by definition, to be a critic of it. To be uncritical is to be the real oddball in this church. Perhaps to be uncritical is to be un-Christian”. -From “The United Church of Christ Tomorrow”, THEOLOGY AND IDENTITY: TRADITIONS, MOVEMENTS, AND POLITY IN THE UCC (Pilgrim Press: 1990), ed. Dan Johnson and Charles Hambrick-Stowe

I have a love-hate relationship with institutional church.  For any of those people who know me even slightly well, they will attest to the convoluted paradigm that is my absolute devotion to structured religious practice within the covenantal church standing next to the uncompromising commitment to the institutional ideal — what should be, what could be, what ought to be instead of what presently is.

To be certain, I have faced my own personal series of dark nights where the church was little more than a cannon aimed in my direction.  But the enduring power of the faithful assembled wouldn’t let me go.  Time and again I come back to this place with all of its faults and failures, roll up my sleeves, and say to those around me, “Let’s get to God’s work among God’s people.”

Because of my commitment to that ideal, I couldn’t in good conscience remain in the faith tradition of my upbringing.  As a confessional tradition, it takes its cues and inspiration from ancient statements of faith, 15th and 16th Century methods of interpretation and practice, and holds a certain suspicion to those models which emphasize freedom in the Gospel.  I don’t say this to reject that community’s faith; far from it, there are myriad good and faithful people who work to build the Beloved Community on earth there, and I am shaped and molded by their tradition more than I can ever unravel.  But in the end, my instinctive understanding of religious freedom for the sake of Jesus Christ led me down a different path of searching and discerning before I arrived in my home in the United Church of Christ.

I love the UCC.  I love that I can walk into two local churches sitting next door to each other and receive a completely different message.  I love that I can talk with two UCC members and receive eight different opinions.  I love that I can be about faithful risk, challenging the structures which define us, while maintaining solidarity with those around the edges.  I love that I can (even ought to) challenge church leadership yet stand side-by-side at the wonderful Table of Grace and receive heavenly food to sustain each of us.

I love the ideal of the UCC: a church rooted in no fewer than four Christian traditions in North America but affected by so many more, that celebrates its diversity in all of its forms while requiring uniformity of none.

There is much to celebrate in the UCC, but yet I am constantly reminded of where we fail.  In our attempts of inclusion, we fail to name — and even sometimes reject outright — those who we are purposely or indirectly excluding.  In our attempts of promoting religious freedom, we reject those who, in their freedom, subscribe to or promote a more conservative Christian faith.  In our attempts of promoting diversity, we provide a narrow definition rather than subscribing to the comprehensive whole.

One of my requirements as I work toward ordination is to take a course on UCC History & Polity.  I’m enrolled in that this semester and after one class period, I can speak with certainty that its going to be one of two classes that will pull me and stretch me in ways I can’t name now.  Over the course of the next few postings here, I’m going to address first three things that are cause for celebration in our beloved church, followed by three things that hinder us in our work.

For those who are “church people,” especially who might be involved in the life of the UCC, I hope that you will join the conversation.  For those who are “people of the world,” I hope you will also join the conversation and keep us grounded in the here-and-now of our work together.  Finally, for those of you who can’t stand church talk, I hope you, too, will join the conversation and let us know what it is we have done to push you away.

We’ll see where this goes.  I’m excited.

Long title

Today I became a Student In Care of the Southeast Association of the Wisconsin Conference of the United Church of Christ.  Luckily, I don’t really have to ever use that title.

The In Care relationship between a student and the student’s Association is part of the formal process leading to ordained ministry in the UCC.  As I journey through the three years of seminary, I will have a number of checkpoints along the way as the denomination seeks to prepare me for ministry in the congregations.

Below is my first sermon, given at my home church, Plymouth UCC in Milwaukee two weeks ago.  I wanted to wait to embed it here until I was officially In Care.

The Pope is coming! The Pope is coming!

Alright, I know the Pope is already here, but “The Pope is here! The Pope is here!” doesn’t have the same connection.

A couple of people have asked me if I’m excited about the Pope’s U.S. travels.  Usually, I gently remind folks that as a Protestant Christian, I’m not all that interested in the comings-and-goings of the Roman Pontiff.  The last Pope, John Paul II, I would have been excited for.  I might have even tried to find a way to go out east.  But Benedict XVI doesn’t strike my interest.

There have been a few thoughts I’ve pondered surrounding the Pope’s visit, however:

  1. There is a lot of talk about this being such an “historic” event.  Yes, a religious leader traveling is important, and genuinely something to garner interest and excitement.  But historic?  Its not the first time a Pope has visited the United States.  JP2 came in 1995.  Listening to much of the media coverage, I’d think The Vatican had just perfected the technology to move the popemobile.
  2. The Pope’s response — or lack thereof, depending on your vantage — to the clergy sex abuse cases.
  3. Massgate 2008.  The eleventh commandment, “Thou Shalt Not Scalp Pope’s Mass Tickets,” is apparently landing some people in the confessional.  For this guy, the ticket is more meaningful than just getting a glimpse of the sixteenth Benedict in person.  Of course, worship is about community with Christ and fellow believers, so shouldn’t there be ample overflow for blocks around?

On the news this morning, however, was the key story I’d been waiting to see: the greatest “crisis of faith” Christianity has ever seen.  This one is certainly so big it will fell the institutional church for good.  Fewer people in church on Sunday, a generation coming-of-age which would rather sleep than worship.  We’re baptizing fewer babies, confirming fewer youth, marrying fewer adults.  Those adults are having children later in life and not raising them in the church.  In 40 years, the church will simply cease to exist, since the last member will have died and no one is filling their pew.

Puh-leeze.  Such a crisis has been plaguing folks since… well, since the High Priests condemned Jesus for working on the sabbath.  Or talking to gentiles.  Or radically changing the social agenda.

To be sure, churches never looked older than they are today.  Generation Y, even less than Generation X preceding it, attends church so sporadically that its hard to get solid statistical data in some denominations.  A growing pluralism and globalization in society is blurring the distinctions between faith traditions, let alone between sects and denominations within those traditions.

But this isn’t a crisis of faith — its is a need for reformation and transformation for how we’re used to doing church.  A couple of examples:

  • In the time following Hurricane Katrina, the vast majority of the relief response has been from faith-based agencies.  College students, those heathenistic GenYers, from all across North America took their spring breaks the past three years to travel to the Gulf Coast to assist in the clean-up and rebuilding.  Ask them why they’re doing it, and they’ll often point to an intangible spiritual experience of helping others, building community and connecting with humanity.
  • My own denomination, the United Church of Christ, offers a “virtual chapel” of sorts, called i.UCC, providing Bible studies, prayer connections, devotions, meditations and more for those who want to be part of a community, but disenfranchised from church.
  • Last week at my fraternity chapter’s annual retreat, I facilitated a workshop on spirituality and meditation.  Beyond the numbers that attended (a mixture of both alumni and undergrads), the conversation and reflection built in a way I didn’t expect.  The connection to external powers outside the self is very real, very motivating.

I often say “survival mode is exactly what will kill the church.”  It is painful to disconnect from what we know, to detach from the safety of tradition.  But change will happen.  It is inevitable.  To be bold in our radical witness, an extravagant welcome, an unparalleled commitment to the other in society will mean being more concerned about action than worship attendance, more concerned about relationships than right doctrine, more concerned about justice than structure.

Sounds a lot like that crazy, long-haired dude who pissed off the establishment 2,000 years ago, doesn’t it?

Church pictures

I’m working on a project for class and snapped a few pictures at my church.