After all my musing about church, the search is over.
I am done, I have found it!
And, I get a pony.
Over the past several weeks, I have posted several pieces here on issues related to the recent troubles at my church. I had a plan to rationally describe the events that have transpired over the past months - perhaps to bring a voice of reason. I would be fair, and smart, and witty. Oh, how much I know, and how much others would be impressed with me. After all, I was right there for all of it. Very impressive how much I know. Sigh.
However, upon reflection the past couple of days, I have been impressed that maybe what the world needs less of is people trying to make a point; trying to be right, or to impress others with their knowledge of the truth. Silly self-concerned little Christian people, like me.
While there is quite a bit of history I am familiar with, it is just that; history. Old news. Tired out, sad. Depressing and tragic.
Here is what is really important, in a word. Christ. Here is another thing that is worthy of time, effort, love, persistence, and building new relationships - we have a church to rebuild! I have never felt more hopeful than I have the past month or so, as the troubles of the past have been largely resolved, and we can move forward.
Its time for me to surrender. Lay down my arms, my arrows, my bullets, and even my laptop. Time to knock it off and move forward. Time to focus on other things, on new things, on creating a new and vital community of faith. There are new books to read and then discuss, thoughts to think, ideas to ponder, a world out there to think about, reflect upon, and engage in. I am excited thinking about these things. I have lots on my mind, and this old stuff, well, it is beginning to bore me now, and really, its really not what is important.
Enough. Onward!
About 10 years ago, our prior pastor retired from Hollywood Pres, as he had been appointed as Chaplain of the US Senate. As a part of the transition, the church was charged with the task of completing a Mission Study. While our church has had a remarkable past, the present seemed a bit frightening, and the future was far less certain. And so began the Mission Study task. The process was lengthy, and involved interview, study, listening to the congregation, prayer, reflection, and thoughtful course-setting for the future.
At first glance, the concept of a "Mission Study" could sound like "churchianity" in its worst manifestation. Yikes - committee meetings. Run away! The bane of Presbyterianism! Imagine gaggles of elderly folk seated around a table, sharing lovely pastry snacks or potluck, and discussing under their breath, to one another, the evils of the new worship band at "that hippie/contemporary service" and "their collection of bar room instruments, and all the racket they make!"
Turns out, our Mission Study group was far from that. Members included a retired school teacher/mystic sudo-catholic, a gregarious real estate developer, a focused Disney executive, an energetic high school vice principle, a US Appeals Court Judge, an affable young entertainment business professional, a utility company real estate officer and father of three teenage girls, a younger seminary grad and family therapist in training, a retired nurse from the Deep South, a post college urban missionary (see HUP), a professional church consultant, and a real estate appraiser (yours truly).
We had a big responsibility, defining the future course of a large urban church populated largely by suburban members. In many ways, the task was enormous. How could we accurately communicate the mission and vision of such a diverse and unique place?
All told, four men, and seven women, ranging in age from 24 to nearly 80. I recall it seemed like an eclectic group, but in large part, that is what Hollywood Pres has always been like, hard to define, hard to categorize. And we got in fights too, just like any family does. I can remember rather terse discussions between the "process oriented" educators (one one side of an issue) and the "get the job done" executives and the judge (on the other side). The process people were happy merely with everyone just "saying their feelings", while the task-oriented folks just wanted to make a decision and stop all the talking. Welcome to family!
I can also remember one thing - laughter. While faced with a task as large as we had, our group was place of joy, fellowship, encouragement, and belonging. We laughed a lot. Even in a big church, we took the time to know each other well, love each other, ask after friends and family, and to enjoy the diversity of our bond in Christ.
For me, hidden in this memory is the primary strength of a healthy church - acceptance, joy in the task, a sense of common purpose. The love of Christ expressed in service. I also think of this, when I remember my Mission Study friends of more than 10 years ago.
Coming soon - setting the course....and loosing our way.
It's New Year's. I flipped on CNN last night, and found (as usual) thousands of people already standing in 36 degree drizzling rain, waiting for the big moment. On the surface, it sounds nuts. But you know what? Before I require a walker to get around, I told my wife I might like to be there, in Times Square on New Years Eve, right in the thick of humanity. Maybe, someday.
I have always wondered about our cultural fascination with New Years. And every year that I can remember, the press spends the last several days of the year reviewing what are considered to be the newsworthy events of the prior year. Not to be left behind, Christian news folks have their own top ten lists; see this and this.
For all 13 of you who routinely visit here, I give you the Steve Norris Top 10 List of Newsworthy Events of 2005.
As the events of the past year have shown us, the universal church is still one of the most visible forms of the Body of Christ. But often, it is not a pretty thing to look at. Not the perfect ad agency male model, nor the youthful sublime frame of a lovely female fashion star. Lots of wrinkles, bumps, bruises. Even nasty surgical scars. But other times, there are moments, even seasons of life where the church can become something stunning, almost blinding it is beauty.
Recently, I have been sharing some of my reflections on the tragic opera that has unfolded over the past several years in the church we have attended for the past 20 years. Over the next days, I will unpack my thoughts a bit more.
Way Too Many Operas
I think I have recently discovered an interesting (ok, humor me) metaphor for what I have been experiencing over the past year.
Over the past month or so, I have been reconnected with my half-brother, who, after serving in the military for many years, has semi-retired and moved over seas. Our reconnection was brought about by the moving of my parents into an assisted living facility - and we have started a lively exchange of emails. I really like him, he is an honest, gregarious, and forthright fellow. And he has quite a bit of history with organized religion, namely the church. Over the past 30 years or so he has witnessed firsthand some sad and even bizarre dysfunction within otherwise well-meaning Christian folk. This lead him to a place of complete distaste for the Christian faith. He has described the years he spent going to church as "hating opera, but going twice every week". He finally decided, years ago, that he was done with the opera.
He is not particularly bitter, but he has decided that he will very likely not ever become "born again". I wonder, do Christian folk sometimes become participants in an opera that is meaningless to those looking in from the outside. This idea makes me sad, but I continue to correspond with my half-brother, the relationship is rewarding and challenging. Perhaps I can shed a beam of light....
Through all this, I still see evidence that the church can sometimes be something wonderful, lovely, and pleasing to God. Sometimes.
This is our house, last night, Christmas Eve. Several years ago my sweet wife, ever the initiator and go-getter, proposed that our entire block participate in the Mexican tradition of Christmas Luminarias. And now, every house on our block is part of this simple beauty.
This humble method of placing lighted paper bags mimics the 16th-century Spanish tradition of the bonfires that led the way to midnight Mass on the last night of Las Posadas, which celebrates the biblical story of Mary and Joseph's search for a place to stay. European missionaries introduced Catholicism to the indigenous people of Mexico in the 1500s, spawning Las Posadas processions that re-enact Mary and Joseph's trek through Bethlehem.
At our home, the luminarias come right up to the front door. If we can, and its not too cold out, we might leave the front door open. Hopefully, Joseph and Mary would be welcome in our home, as would the precious baby Mary carried for nine months of wonder. Wondering "why me, what is going to happen, what will he be like?"
As I bent to light each luminaria last night, it became an act of simple worship. Joseph and Mary, and Baby Jesus, come by here. Please, come by here.
May it be so, with each day, with each challenge of the coming year. Merry Christmas!
The past year or so in the life of our church has been really difficult. This is something that is hard for me to write about, as over the course of the past months, I have lost good friends, felt like I can't worship in peace and joy on Sunday, and felt anger in my soul that made me think I would burst a vessel. Our family even needed to take a six month "vacation" from our church and worship elsewhere. All of this over a deep and painful split in the church, First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood.
Kind, good, gentle and genuinely loving people have been deeply hurt, accusations of all sorts have been made, there has been shouting and booing at congregational meetings, angry public pronouncements have been made, and finally and sadly, two senior-most pastors have resigned.
Recently, a friend emailed me to let me know that Hugh Hewitt had a link on his website with the title "now that's a train wreck" and linking to a bitter resignation letter on the web, posted by a member. It has been a train wreck. Completely. Blood on the tracks, people screaming, blame being made, lives hurt, jobs lost, lives seemingly wrecked.
Clearly, nobody won. Nobody. And most sadly, the cause of Christ lost. We blew it. All of us.
The church has been hurt, and she appears silly, petty, and irrelevant in the eyes of a watching world, a world that already mistrusts much of organized religion.
Perhaps in the next several posts, I can talk a bit about my view of what has transpired, outline places where mistakes were made, and perhaps point to ways that we can all behave more like grown-ups in the future. People growing-up in Christ.
When I started this post yesterday, my initial thought was to "get even" with the negative tone of the Hewitt link to the "train wreck" post. But after a long conversation with my wife and a dear close friend (who, as it happens is in seminary seeking ordination in the Presbyterian church), my heart and mind have been changed.
Here is what I want. I want our church to be healed. I want our church to be whole. I want it to be a place that will draw people to the person of Christ - because He is really all that matters. All. Everything. I don't want to win anything. I don't want to have the corner on truth and justice. I want Christ to be honored, proclaimed, and lived out. Lived out in ways that are real and transformational. And my prayer, as I type, is that I would not hinder this by anything I might say.
What should a church, our church look like? What is the ideal? I have to quote the words of my good friend, Tod Bolsinger, who said recently:
And so, with each word I might write in the next post or so, may the words of my laptop, and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord."I believe that the goal of every church must be to so grow in Christ, so mature in faithfulness, so increase in love and wisdom and justice and peace that if any person was to ask you what you think heaven will be like you could someday actually say, "Do you want to know what heaven is like? Come and see. Come to my church and hang out with my friends and see the way we live, worship and serve together. Come and see."
What can I say?
A song about a very strange love.
They are at it again.
I just want to know what is with the guy in the background?
Caption: "Santa has clearly had enough, after a 13 hour shift at Feldman's Discount Appliance Barn. By secretly applying a 250 volt cattle prod to the unsuspecting hindquarters of his guests, St. Nick realizes that he can cut down significantly on the chronic Santa problem of "lap overload". Seen here, in the green coat, 4 year old Susie was the first to feel the jolt, while her brother Sam, age 6, is caught right at the moment of "prod-contact". Still to understand the implications of electric shock applied to pants is sweet Sara, age 10."
I had lunch today with a new friend, a recent graduate of Fuller Seminary, with a Master of Arts in Christian Leadership. My friend, Michael and I discussed his vision of his future vocational and ministry calling. I have not been so energized by a lunch discussion in some time.
Michael has a vision for beginning a ministry to recent college graduates, living in community, very much similar to the original vision of Hollywood Urban Project, a ministry I had the priviledge of being a part of a number of years ago. Living in community, sharing lives, learning about the calling of Christ, and figuring out what in the world this means in the context of modern life.
One of the topics that we discussed was the way in which the church seems to often be so irrelevant to our lives today. Here I was, with a Fuller grad, agreeing on the irrelevancy of the church. We agreed that the church is good at sending missionaries overseas, of equipping pastors, of teaching the scriptures, but is completely inept at reaching the world of commerce. The world where so many of us work each day. To coin a phrase, what is with THAT?! Seems like the secular world needs to be affected by the people of the Cross in a way that is new, engaging and affecting.
Can our work be holy? Can we do things at the office that have the same eternal merit as things we do in church or in other ministry settings? Can we make a Kingdom Difference in the real world?
I mentioned in our conversation, that if I could say just one thing to "The Church", I would likely stand on the top of a pew during the hushed silence of an otherwise reverent moment, and shout:
"Please.....Be Relevant!"
Michael and I are starting a relationship, that I hope goes places, blesses people, and brings the Kingdom together more. And maybe, it might just be relevant.
As we approach the Holidays I want to share with you the joy of Christmas, as seen by a child. I wonder if this Santa ever returned to the ranks after this experience? I am sure that his beard was actually straight prior to the 500 decibel scream that emanated from this sweet little girl; the sound shock curled the beard. Note that she had the presence of mind to NOT drop the free candy cane. Good job there, little Susie!
I have other holiday thoughts I that are knocking around inside my semi-balding head that I will share soon, including my low budget review of this book.
Only 23 more shopping days....
As perhaps most of you know, the most important college football game of the year will be happening this weekend. As typical, I can make a connection between the most mundane things of life and the things of the spiritual world. And of course, God is a Bruin.
And as well all know, football is only a metaphor for the spiritual battle of real life. Really. I am not kidding. Shown here is a classic album that illustrates my point. You think I am kidding, go here to listen to what the real meaning of football is all about, and try and keep a straight face.
Update: The link to the sound file appears to have broken....another act of Evil!
Pictured to the left is the "No Nombres", my 11-year old daughter's AYSO soccer team. No Nombres translated from Spanish is "No Namers"; the girls thought this would be a funny name. Sorry for the blurry photo, my cell phone can only do so much. This is a great bunch of young ladies.
Today was the last game of the season, and the game was decided in the last minutes of overtime. My daughter Heather was the goalie during those minutes. This is a story about winning and losing and people of character.
The No Nombres have had a less than stellar season. Their season record was something like 1-11, but they had fun in every game, and rarely lost by much. They never stopped smiling, or enjoying time with each other on the field and at practices. They laughed lots.
This team also had a wonderful coach. Coach Scott has been a friend of mine for more years than either of us wants to remember. We are also professional friends, both owning small businesses in the same discipline of commercial real estate. Scott is a wonderful guy, the type of fellow you can always depend on. There are not many Scotts out there in the world. He is also the father of three girls, ranging from 11 to 18 years old; all of whom are lovely young ladies. Coach Scott made sure that every girl played equally, had fun, was valued, and participated. For Scott, winning was definitely not what it was all about. Thanks, Coach Scott - job very well done!
The winning goal went in with about 2 minutes left in overtime. It slipped past Heather, and she immediately crumpled to the ground in tears. Her entire team surrounded her and offered words of encouragement. "Its all my fault", she kept repeating - and I thought my heart would break as well. She got her emotions together, and finished the game, but then fell apart again afterward. Final score 1-0; my shirt got very wet from tears. Sometimes it is hard to be a kid.
Tonight, after the end-of-season swim party was over, and we had settled in back at home, I asked Heather if she had learned any lessons from the day. "Yeah, I think I learned that it wasn't just my fault, you win as a team and lose as a team".
And who says kids can't teach us lessons?
Rest on the Flight into Egypt, David Gerard, 1510, Bruges
Those living in the early centuries lead lives surely full of struggle, hardship, turmoil, and a constant awareness of the tenacity of life. Through the centuries, as lives became more comfortable, those Bible stories, the narratives of real life, and the remarkable life of the Savior tend to fade in importance.
The Artist's Garden at Vetheuil, Claude Monet, 1880
We have become too comfortable in our aristocratic lives, in our gardens fair, in our inventions and society. We don't need those old stories, we have made a new story that is fairer to the eye, and more easy to digest. I think I fear for our modern society. We have forgotten from where we have come.