Much hand wringing and pessimism -- maybe fatigue? -- is evident as we seek to engage our congregations in vital, faithful, effective Adult Christian Education. Also evident are the attempts to understand how and why things are different. Contributions from those versed in demographics and sociological realities have been useful. People who study leadership and systems theories have provided keen insights into our current situation and challenges. Generational theory has been a powerful lens through which to evaluate our context and relationships. Examining postmodernity and its effects on educational ministry can be helpful as well.
This article offers some of the ideas presented at my workshop, "Brain Research Comes to Sunday School," at the Association of Presbyterian Church Educators conference in February. The good attendance at this workshop is an indication that Christian educators want to learn about brain research and ways it might help them be better teachers. In Our Spiritual Brain, Barbara Bruce wrote that religious educators need to know how the brain functions and how to translate that information into better, more usable lessons to help students continue their journey of faith.
"There you go, God, here is some Play-Doh for you," a four-year-old announced, placing a blob of yellow Play-Doh on the table and then scooting an empty chair next to her own so that both touched. She continued to roll and mash the Play-Doh, every so often adding a bit more to the handful for God until her mom arrived. As she said goodbye to one of the adult leaders, she held up her hands closed tightly together and whispered, "All you have to do is hold your hands like this and God is with you. God likes coming to Sunday school with me and he's holding my hand now to go to church with me." Although resembling the imaginary friend of a young child, God truly existed in the heart and mind of this young child. A few years later in a kindergarten through fifth grade Sunday school group talking with the leader about fears, her connection with God gave her the confidence, despite being one of the youngest in the group, to share with the others, "I know God is always with me even if I can't see him and when I am afraid at night I just talk to God."
Consider the following familiar scenario. A pastor takes a new call in youth ministry. He begins enthusiastically, on fire to gather young people into Christ's fold. Youth ministry begins to flourish over the course of the next two years, and then suddenly he resigns. The youth are devastated. The congregation is at first bemused, then shrugs its collective shoulders, and re-gathers itself for another mission study, another search committee, and hopefully a better match. Perhaps the next associate pastor will last a little longer.
As corruption clouds politics, as public figures deny and then confess, as people become increasingly suspicious of basic institutions like their banks, schools and, yes, their churches, the need for transparency becomes critical.
People don't expect perfection from their churches. They know that clergy are overworked and underpaid. They know that lay leaders are overworked and not paid at all. They know that people renege on commitments and don't give what they should. They know that weather, basketball tournaments, and human orneriness can undo the best-laid plans.
Early one Sunday morning in the spring of 2003, in the quiet hours before services would begin at the evangelical church where I worship in Charlottesville, Va., I opened files compiled by my research assistant and read the statements drafted by Christians around the world in opposition to the American invasion of Iraq.
It is very much a part of the Reformed faith to be muddling about in the public policy decision-making process. John Calvin himself wrote in the 20th chapter of the Fourth Book of the Institutes of Christian Religion, "Wherefore no man can doubt that civil authority is, in the sight of God, not only sacred and lawful, but the most sacred, and by far the most honorable, of all stations in mortal life." Scripture reminds us of the necessity to speak out on behalf of the poor, the hungry, and the vulnerable.
I once worked with a congregation whose members were divided from one another over various issues. It was, more than anything, a power struggle. Both sides knew they were right. Neither side would agree to sit down with the other. One Sunday, an elder volunteered to offer the prayer after the sermon as was their custom. She then prayed that God would make the rest of the congregation come to realize her side was right.
Of course, we all know that elder was wrong. But how often do we pray for others, entreating God to change them so they will agree with us, not necessarily so they will agree with God? I imagine we have all done this on occasion. That is why it is so important to stress Paul's (or the author's) words in 1 Timothy 2:1, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone. Paul goes on to support this by saying that God wants all to be saved and that Christ died as a ransom for all. If we, as Christians, truly believe these statements of God's love and care, the way we pray for others must be transformed from our selfish motives into legitimate love and concern for the other person, whether that person is your granddaughter or Osama Bin Laden.
"I don't believe that change comes from the top down," Barack Obama has said throughout his presidential campaign. "It comes from the bottom up."
Voters are debating whether Obama has the experience necessary to be president, but he certainly has experience as a community organizer. In the mid-80s, he was hired by a small group of churches on the south side of Chicago to organize low-income people. He helped them to define their mutual interests, work together to change their communities, and improve their lives. He came to believe that real change comes "from the bottom up."
Can human rights survive secularization? Nicholas Wolterstorff really wants to know, because he's not sure they can.
Wolterstorff, the Noah Porter Professor Emeritus of Philosophical Theology at Yale Divinity School recently presented a lecture at the National Church in Washington, D.C., to address this question. Sponsored by the Reformed Institute of Metropolitan Washington, his comments reflected research presented in his most recent book, Justice -- Rights and Wrongs (Princeton University Press).
Not everyone processes information the same way. Few of us receive it the first time we see/hear it.
Some hear, some read words, some see images, others do best with word of mouth. No one method catches everyone.
The National Anthem's lyrics gained fresh meaning five years ago when the United States attacked and invaded Iraq. On TV we saw Baghdad aflame with bombs exploding and tracer bullets lighting the night sky. With apologies to Francis Scott Key for revising his lyrics, "The rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was firmly planted in Baghdad." For maybe 100 years, say John McCain.
Why did our nation invade Iraq?
President George W. Bush, soon after occupying the White House, boldly announced he "had a clear vision of where I want to lead America." Sometimes he fumbled syntax and mispronounced words. The late arch-critic Molly Ivins, who rarely came to his rescue, told mocking pundits, "You can usually tell what he meant to say."
Many Protestant congregations have gotten trapped in a "culture of smallness."
They don't value growth, they resist change, and they look askance at megachurches. True virtue, they want to believe, lies in the small, in face-to-face intimacy, in the pastor who knows every story well. Some of this attitude is defensive, of course. Their churches aren't growing, so they develop an ideology of non-growth.
No institution exercises greater impact upon the life of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)'s retired church professionals than the Presbyterian Board of Pensions. Outlook editor Jack Haberer sat down to talk about that with BOP President and CEO Robert Maggs.
JH: Rob, when it comes to retirement, the first thing that comes to mind for most of us is, "How am I going to survive?" That puts a lot of weight and responsibility upon the administrators like yourself for pension programs. Tell me about that.
RM: I think that first thing we have to do is to get people thinking about retirement early on. I like to say, "Start thinking about it the first day you have your first job." So our job is really to educate people, especially our plan members, from the time they're in seminary right through their career until they have filed that application to receive a pension. The pension is going to be a good pension. Someone said this is the best pension plan in America. That was a "Jeopardy" question, I think. But the pension alone doesn't do it. So our job is to explain to people all the risks and rewards and joys and concerns that can happen during their life, how it's going affect their financial future and what they should be doing to hedge those risks, if you will. That includes savings through a retirement savings plan. It includes good financial planning. It includes programs that help people take care of their mental health, their physical health, as well as their financial health so that they can have productive careers.
We all know that it's important to care for our health and finances as part of retirement planning. However, we often neglect more obvious, but no less significant, issues, such as where we will live and what we will do with our time. As one Board of Pensions seminar asks, "If you are what you do, who are you when you don't?"
Entering this new stage of life can be a challenge, especially if you don't start thinking about it until you're already retired. Consider this example from Jeri Sedlar and Rick Miners' book Don't Retire, REWIRE!
[Bill] had come to realize that a traditional retirement like his father's was not for him. He wanted to do something productive -- but he didn't know what. He just knew that he didn't want anything as demanding as the 24/7 existence he had been living for the past three years (xi).1
The Board of Pensions of
the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.):
www.pensions.org
Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.):
www.pcusa.org
Presbyterian Association of Homes
and Services for the Aging:
www.pahsa.org
Presbyterians across the church have had July 2009 marked on their calendars for years, in eager anticipation of the 500th anniversary of the birth of John Calvin. Or perhaps not.
Lutherans adore Martin Luther. Methodist hearts are strangely warmed by John Wesley. Anglicans even have a sardonic fondness for Henry VIII. But Presbyterians are uncertain at best about John Calvin and his legacy. Calvin is not a Reformed idol.
Our reluctance to venerate John Calvin would have pleased him. Calvin did not want the reverence of future generations. Among other safeguards against idolization, he specified that he be buried in Geneva's common cemetery in an unmarked grave. Although there is a Rue Calvin in Geneva today, his house no longer stands, and no one knows quite where it was.
Introduction
The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A) experienced a reunion in 1983 of what are commonly referred to as the Northern and Southern Presbyterian churches. This article gives a brief account of what has happened in ecumenical relations in the PC(USA) since its reunion in Atlanta, Ga., June 1983.
The common designation of the previous churches as "southern" and "northern" is an inaccuracy. The northern Church, UPCUSA, was a national church with congregations and presbyteries spanning the USA territory. One can surmise that this designation began at the time of the separation of these churches in the 1860's over issues relating to the holding of Negro slaves, a subject of great interest, though this article is not intending to address it.
In my current days of age, I have come to believe that there is another aspect of learning, and worshipping.
It is the presence of motion, and the use of the body in praise. I call this Christian sign language. Oh, you say, "This fellow is off on a Pentecostal kick!" Perhaps there is a suspicion brewing that I have sold out to ecclesiastical "rock and roll".
(PNS) LOUISVILLE -- This is a good year for Easter to come early!
The date of Easter this year, March 23, is the earliest it has been for almost 200 years. With all of the pain and suffering in the world, the conflict in our church, and the deep yearning for the good news that can only be answered by the resurrection of Jesus Christ, an early Easter is just what the world needs.
In 2003, Robert Jenson and Carl Braaten edited a little book entitled, In One Body Through the Cross, challenging churches in North America to discover their unity in Christ. In that book, Jenson and Braaten note that congregational life in the United States "often proceeds with little sense of contradiction between division from others and life as a realization of one church of Christ."1 We are no longer offended by denominational differences and indeed regard such variations as normal, i.e., as "the natural expression of a Christian marketplace with churches representing different options for a variety of spiritual tastes."
As one fascinated by the future and its possibilities, I find scenario planning -- creating stories of possible futures, and watching for signs as to how the future is unfolding -- to be a stimulating framework for observation. Peter Schwartz, in The Art of the Long View, and his consulting firm, GBN Global Business Network, popularized this planning technique that is used in for-profit as well as non-profit and governmental organizations. I like to think that my passion for scenario planning both honors and invokes the tradition of the Bible's visionaries and dreamers, whose own scenarios of what God's future would hold were awakened by the touch of the Spirit in their respective contexts and cultures.
Cleopas asks Jesus, Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days? (v.18). But Cleopas himself appears to be uninformed about the transformation that took place among the multitude at the Cross.
The popular mind thinks that there was a murderous mob around the Cross crying, "Crucify him! Crucify him!" But such was not the case. The city of Jerusalem was and is relatively small with limited public space. Pilate's judgment hall could not have held more than a few dozen people. The High Priest and his supporters were naturally present for the political trial of Jesus. There is no hint that the supporters of Jesus were allowed into the room. On that occasion the High Priest's men (in the hall) responded to Pilate with the cry, "Crucify him." But on the street it was a different matter.
To worship is to be open to mystery,
The unexpected,
The soul before unknown,
The darkness of the light, and
The lightness of the dark
To receive what can only be given,
never taken, never controlled,
For good or ill.
If ministers have the fortitude to greet arriving and departing worshipers on Sunday, they will find themselves whipsawed between conflicting needs.
Longtime members want the pastor's attention and believe, quite justifiably, that they deserve it. Visitors, new members and those not yet incorporated into church life need the pastor's attention, too.
On a recent Sunday, I talked with a needy member at the front door and watched helplessly as a dozen newcomers left church without any connection. We didn't get their names or e-mail addresses, or say a word of welcome, or convey a desire to embrace.
If I had focused on the newcomers, of course, it would have been the member who left feeling ignored.
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