On Friedman's 'The Clash of Generations'

I couldn't help but briefly comment on Thomas Friedman's 'The Clash of Generations' piece in the New York Times yesterday.  I often try to shy away from sweeping statements about generational differences, but Friedman isn't listing off subjective notions here, instead simply reflecting history and current sentiments:

Indeed, if there is one sentiment that unites the crises in Europe and America it is a powerful sense of “baby boomers behaving badly” — a powerful sense that the generation that came of age in the last 50 years, my generation, will be remembered most for the incredible bounty and freedom it received from its parents and the incredible debt burden and constraints it left on its kids. 

To be sure, we have a lot to thank the boomers for as well... the furthering of civil rights, strengthening of the environmental movement and of course some really amazing music are just a few of the things achieved by that generation.  On the other hand, there is a growing sense amongst folks my age of being left in a real tough spot by those who came before us.  It doesn't just play out in fiscal policy either (and now I guess I will indulge in a couple generalizations)... I for one think about the hold 1950s/ 60s culture seems to have on our shrinking congregations as well.  With God's help I pray we can move past the ideological hangups of previous generations (somewhat mirroring what needs to happen in the current debt debate in Washington) to find more practical and sustainable ways of living in Christian community.

I realize this is a pretty basic post, full of criticism and generalizations with no real solutions... the things I mention really deserve much deeper discussion.  It's my hope that it'll add just a bit to the ongoing conversation to find such solutions.  I look forward to your comments, please check out the Friedman article in full, and thanks for reading friends!

God's peace,
Dustin

Pastors Don't Do Much

Obviously, that’s mostly meant to be a provocative title… of course pastors do all sorts of things. Whether they’re writing sermons, attending church council meetings, visiting the sick or cleaning up the bathroom after a long hard day of Vacation Bible School, pastors are busy with a nearly endless list of tasks on a daily basis. As someone who hopes to be one of those pastors not too many years from now, the more I think about it though, in their best moments at least, pastors don’t do much.

How have I come to such a strange notion? Over the last five weeks I’ve been participating in a Clinical Pastoral Education program at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in New Hampshire. It’s been an absolutely amazing experience. On average, half of my day is taken up by various lectures and group discussions, with the other half devoted to meeting with patients. While I’m learning so much about myself and exploring the essential skills and theory for providing pastoral care, my greatest learning so far has been, once again, that at their best, those providing pastoral care don’t do much. I’ve found in fact that I spend a great deal of my time training myself to say less, to listen more, and simply to be a non-anxious presence for the patients I’m ministering to. Despite my human tendency to want to control a conversation, to always say the right thing at the right time, or to simply to help folks, most of my best patient visits have been when I haven’t said much of anything at all.

I spent some time yesterday thinking back to the times I myself experienced helpful pastoral care throughout my life, and I once again I realized, that in a way, those caring for me didn’t do that much… yet it still meant the world to me. One example is when I was in hospital nearly three years ago while recovering from surgery to remove my thyroid. I was still waiting to hear back whether my thyroid had been cancerous and was also worried about my mother who had recently been diagnosed with lung cancer. I hadn’t formally met the new pastor of my hometown congregation yet, but when he saw my name in the hospital registry he came in to speak with me. The conversation wasn’t all that long, and I did most of the talking, but in many ways that was the day I started moving towards becoming a pastor myself.

This whole phenomenon begs the question, how can doing so little mean so much to a patient, or anyone we talk to for that matter? In answering that question, one ends up arriving at the powerful mystery of how the Spirit is constantly working through all us, whether it’s with a chaplain listening to a patient or a loving parent listening to her or his distressed child. A few years from now when I’m horribly stressed out over trying to find a caterer for my congregation’s silent auction or making sure the annual Rally Day is well attended, hopefully I can look back on CPE and remember that when pastors are at their best, they don’t do much.

Hospitality As Community

Here's a rough manuscript of a sermon I gave on Matthew 10: 40-42 @ Community Lutheran Church in Enfield, NH on 6/26:

‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.’  Jesus’ message to the disciples in our gospel lesson today is a message we hear over and over again.  We hear how we’re supposed to do better: how we’re supposed to better welcome the stranger, clothe the poor and feed the hungry.  This message is so important that we conclude our worship services with the words ‘Go in peace and serve the Lord!”  Simply put, serving our neighbor and practicing hospitality is central to who we are as Christians.  Writing on today’s gospel lesson one Lutheran theologian states, “What would happen if we stopped expecting people to come on their own initiative through our church doors and instead took seriously our calling to bring the gospel to them?”

She’s right of course.  Practicing hospitality is central to who we are, and despite our best efforts, its something we can always do more of.  Our lesson from Roman’s today agrees with this notion… Paul is explains that just because we’re saved by God’s grace that doesn’t mean we can just sit back and relax, doing whatever we want… BY NO MEANS he exclaims.  Rather, because we’re saved by God’s grace, out of love for God we are to recognize the face of Christ in our neighbors, going out to serve them and welcoming them into our community.

You’ve heard this all before though… and sometimes it can be a hard sort of message to hear.  When we’re busy getting through school, supporting our families or simply working through what life throws at us, hearing that we need to do more to welcome our neighbor can be a difficult message to swallow.  There’s good news though friends… what I’ve spoken of so far is only half of what Jesus is telling us in the gospel lesson today.  Hospitality, especially Christian hospitality, isn’t just something we do for another person… it’s a relationship.  Sometimes we’re like the disciples in this gospel lesson, but more often than not we’re like the little ones… desperately in need of a cup of cold water.  While we are commanded to better the lives of others and serve them as Christ its important to recognize how others may be doing God’s work in our own lives as well.  So often in a bid to stay in control, save face or maintain a safe distance from others we end up refusing the very help and comfort that we pray for.

I’m not saying we should just get lazy and expect others to do our work for us… self-reliance is a great quality on one level and something folks from New Hampshire are of course admirably known for. Rather, I’m speaking of the little things.  I touched on one good example of such things in the children’s moment this morning… I can remember almost every day when I would come home from school my mother would ask me how my day was.  At best I’d begrudgingly mutter, “Good.” back to my mom before running off to turn on MTV or to chat it up on the Internet... sometimes I’d simply ignore her.  She was practicing true hospitality though… she genuinely wanted to know how I was doing and instead of spending quality time talking with my mom I pushed her away… almost every day I missed an opportunity to experience community, to share in a sacred moment.

It doesn’t change when we grow up either… church coffee hours are a great example of this.  Who here in the congregation today has sort of been having a bad day, or maybe even had a bad week?  I know I’ve had a pretty rough one… I’m downright exhausted.  In the midst of having some baked goods, planning for a committee meeting or trying to get our kids out the door, how often at coffee hour do we genuinely tell our friends and neighbors that we’ve had a rough week when they ask us how we’re doing?  Sometimes of course people are in fact just saying hello when they ask us how we’re doing, but often they genuinely mean it… how often do we shrug off such hospitality… how often do we miss invitations to sacred moments where God’s love can be experienced in true community?

The really good news in the midst of all this is that despite our tendency to push each other
way, there are still moments when God’s saving love shines through and is experienced as we serve each other in community… at a place named Community Lutheran Church it makes sense that such moments seem to happen pretty regularly.  I was up here to help out with the Easter Vigil service and a few days later after returning to seminary I took part in a conference with a well over a hundred pastors.  The question, “When’s the last time you experienced God’s love?” came up for discussion and after a brief silence I sprung up and told the whole room about a little church I was at in New Hampshire where almost everyone in the congregation seemed to take some sort of role in the Easter Vigil service.  Whether serving as an acolyte, singing in the choir, or helping plan for Easter breakfast the next morning everyone was contributing and appreciating each other’s contributions, and I for one was very touched by the experience.

I think it’s often in moments like those, when people are serving in community, committing acts of genuine hospitality and accepting the hospitable actions of others, that we most profoundly experience the good news of God’s saving love for us.  It’s in those moments when love can conquer our fears and when we can step outside of our anxieties and loneliness, feeling the embrace of God’s love.

Only Offering A Prayer

Here's the manuscript from a temple talk I gave last Sunday to my home congregation of Emanuel Lutheran in Manchester, CT:

When Pastor Cady asked me to speak here today about my experiences so far at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, I knew I wanted to be brief, but wow… I also knew that there is a lot I could talk about. My first semester at LTSP has been an amazing opportunity to grow, learn and discern God’s call. The academics have been rigorous, the community has been amazingly supportive, and the worship life there has been greatly nurturing. I’d go into how I’ve benefited from all those things in great detail (and I’d be happy to do so if you want to chat more after worship), but really, and in the interest of brevity; one quick story sums it all up.

Right across the street from the seminary there’s a Wawa, a typical convenience store that I often head over to during a late study night or the occasional evening when dinner isn’t very good at the refectory. There’s one man I’ve seen a few times there in particular, sitting on a curb in front of the store, asking for spare change. For my first couple months at LTSP, I’d occasionally give him a quarter if I had one, but more often than not I’d awkwardly mumble that I had nothing to give. A few weeks ago on my way into Wawa, I was asked again by this man to spare some change. Almost automatically I told him I could offer no money, but I could offer to pray for him.

Since that day I’ve had a couple brief conversations with him, which have led me to consider poverty and homelessness from a deeper theological perspective than ever before. Saying a prayer for someone in a convenience store parking lot isn’t all that amazing… it should be a common occurrence, its something we should all be able to do as Christians and its something that we’re called to do. That said, only after spending time at LTSP was I empowered to get up the courage and speak with that man on a deeper level than apologizing for not having any change… recognizing Christ in “the other.” While this simple act wasn’t amazing, the community at LTSP and my education there is proving to be, and I greatly look forward to continue growing and exploring my call to public ministry while there. Thanks for all of your continued support, and God bless.

A Long Journey, Amazing Blessings

It's been a long journey since I last updated this blog in April.  I spent this past summer at Camp Calumet Lutheran in New Hampshire, where I was greatly blessed in helping thirty-four amazing teenagers learn how to be camp counselors.  Camp ended, and after two days home in Connecticut, I began my seminary education at the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia.  It's been pretty great experience so far, full of learning, growth and discernment.  Except for a brief hiking trip over Labor Day weekend, this past week was my first time back home.  It's been an interesting week rambling all over New England; visiting friends in Boston, catching a Bob Dylan concert at UMass and spending Thanksgiving at a close friend's home in New Hampshire provided me with a great opportunity to rest and reflect over all that I experienced in the last few months.

Having had such a busy summer and a packed schedule at seminary, I didn't think much about posting again until recently.  A couple weeks back it occurred to me that it might be interesting for folks to hear about my seminary experience and have a little bit of a deeper view of life there.  Right around the same time, I got an email from Tim Dalton, who runs Theology Degrees Online.  The website in general is a really great resource for those looking into all levels of theological education.  I've found Tim's blog section particularly helpful too, as it catalogs all sorts of blog on a given theological topic.  At any rate, Tim was emailing to let me know that Only A Northern Blog was named one of "The Top 50 Lutheran Blogs" (it's number 35). What an honor! And what an impetus to start this up again!

I'm going to try and post here at least weekly, and at least over the next few weeks, I'll try to unpack everything from both this past summer and my first semester at LTSP for all of you.  Check back in soon!

God's peace,
Dustin

Creating Space for the Authentic

Also posted on the Christ the King, Wilbraham website:

Now in the last week of my Project Connect Immersion Experience at Christ the King, I’ve really started to reflect on what I learned during my time here.  While I’ll soon make another post about that topic in a general sense, I wanted to devote this space to one lesson I’ve learned in particular:

A couple nights back I was reading through some of the Psalms and thinking about my immersion experience when I came upon the following verses in Psalm 139:

Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!  Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.  You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.  You saw me before I was born.  Every day of my life was recorded in your book.  Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed… Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts (Psalm 139 14 – 16, 23).

Over the past couple months I’ve spent a lot of time working through what it’s going to mean to be a pastor while still being a real person.  If public ministry is a vocation where you’re “on” in some way almost all the time, balancing being a professional and a leader while still being a less than perfect human being (especially if you’re a pretty goofy guy like I am) seems like a daunting task.  On the other hand however is the fact that I feel very affirmed in my sense of call to be a pastor…  If I am correct in discerning God’s call, then it would logically follow that I could be a successful pastor without having to pretend to be something I’m not.

In the end I’ve arrived at the decision to be as authentic as possible going forward.  I imagine that no matter how well one acts to perfectly “fit the mold” of being a pastor, not being authentic could likely put a large barrier between myself and whatever congregation I’ll be working with.  In a world where we all feel pressured to fit various molds in various situations, I think in the end people crave authenticity.  While folks might appreciate authenticity in others, people crave even more for space to be authentic themselves. 

I’m sure my train of thought seems a bit dis-jointed here, but in conclusion the greatest lesson I’ve learned from immersion experience is that a central part of my ministry will be helping to create that space for others and guiding congregations in seeking to do the same.  Helping others to show that wonderful complexity and workmanship spoken of in the passage above can’t be a bad thing… and perhaps in doing so it’ll help me be a little more authentic myself.

God’s peace,

Dustin

Celebrate!!

Manuscript of the sermon I preached this Sunday @ Christ the King, Wilbraham.  Enjoy!!


Often the purpose of a sermon is to explain a detailed theological concept based on the day’s readings or perhaps to invite us to deeply explore an aspect of our faith. Whatever its purpose might be, a sermon can often get complicated, frequently trying to explain a somewhat nuanced message. In stark contrast however, I think the message of today’s readings is a refreshingly simple one: let go of your perceived limitations! Celebrate where you are! In this joyous season of Easter celebrate the glory of the risen Christ! Celebrate God’s work that has been done… and celebrate God’s many blessings! Even if everything isn’t perfect, know that in Christ, anything is possible… and celebrate that fact! Whether it’s in our own lives, the life of the congregation here at Christ the King or the life of the wider church, it’s important to recognize both the positives and negatives of life, both past and present. Recognizing past missteps allows us to release and grow past them; celebrating God’s continued triumph through our lives brings greater clarity to some of the amazing opportunities God’s calling us to.

 

Next Sunday marks the completion of my immersion experience, and while there’s still a week to go, I’ve already begun to reflect on the invaluable experiences I’ve had and the amazing people I’ve met at Christ the King. The major goal of any Project Connect immersion experience is to help people decide whether or not they are called to ordained ministry… and I’m happy to say that you guys haven’t scared me away! In fact, my time spent here has completely reaffirmed my sense of call and I’m extremely excited about my future… things are going great, there’s certainly a lot to celebrate, and it’s in part thanks to all of you.

 

As I continue to reflect on my time here and celebrate my successes however, it’s also important to recognize that this period of discernment didn’t always look so great. In particular I have a crystal clear memory of one night this past September. I was sitting by the water at York Beach in Maine, about half an hour from where I was still living in New Hampshire, and reflecting with a close friend about how scared I was of the future. I had decided to leave Thrivent Financial for Lutherans about a month earlier to work in a job that would allow more time for me to actively discern whether or not I wanted to go into ministry… and my careful crafted plan for that period of transition had completely failed. After many expensive car repairs and dealing with a job market that was even worse than I expected, I was facing the issue of being nearly broke with no job. With my apartment lease soon up, I was also dealing with the prospect that I’d have to move back to dad’s house, something that I felt pretty ashamed of at the time. I was really beginning to doubt my decision to leave my well paying job with Thrivent, and more importantly I thought I had many personal limitations that wouldn’t allow me to be the great pastor I wanted to be.

 

Looking back on it, that evening was one of those rare turning points in life… standing on the edge of a sort of spiritual precipice I was presented with one of two options. I could easily step back from the edge, give into my perceived limitations, and follow that all too human need for comfort in what’s familiar… or I could celebrate who I was, have some faith in God’s call, and take that leap into a future of amazing opportunity.

I don’t think of that story as at all unique to me however… we all have those moments in life. We all have our own “road to Damascus moments”, where much like Saul, as we let go of our perceived limitations, the scales fall from our eyes, allowing us to celebrate… who we are. Only with that recognition and celebration of who we are can we step into the amazing future God is calling us to. In today’s gospel story, even after seeing all the amazing miracles of God’s love through Jesus, Peter still had denied Him… Peter stepped back from that spiritual precipice and just went fishing. Unlike some of the other gospels, there’s no definitive timeline in the Gospel of John… we really don’t know how long Peter went back to the comfortable familiarity of fishing. However long it was though, in Jesus, God still met Peter where he was… whether it is was four weeks after the crucifixion or four years. Sometimes in our lives, or in the life of our congregation, we might be right up on that spiritual precipice and decide to step back… and sometimes I think God might be calling us to do that too. We still should take the time let go of our perceived limitations, celebrate God’s very real achievements through us… but then rest in that joyful celebration. And even if we’re not following God’s call by stepping back from that spiritual precipice… through faith we know that God’s still going to meet us wherever we are.

Going quickly back to the example of my own life, while I may have taken that leap of faith six months back, I have no intention to do so again for at least the next few months… soon after I’m done here at Christ the King I’ll be heading back up to Camp Calumet for my eighth full summer on staff. After taking a leap and having a period of extreme turbulence in my life, I think it’s really important to celebrate what God’s achieved in me with the people I care most about. That doesn’t mean I won’t experience any new challenges at all this summer or that I won’t still be working hard… far from it, as I finally found out I’ll be running the Counselor in Training program for the first time… but it does mean I’ll be recharging for what’s ahead of me at seminary in the fall… and that’s what in the end celebrating is really all about. Whether we step back from that spiritual precipice or not, recognizing and celebrating who we are allows us to know why we’re stepping back… are we stepping back from God’s call because we’re afraid of the future or are we stepping back to recharge for what God really is calling us to do next?

During the children’s moment today, we took some time to recognize and say thanks for the many ministries you’re all a part of at Christ the King… to celebrate all the good stuff God has going on here. I imagine you may be wondering why it was decided to do so. Here’s why: I made it a major goal for myself over the past few months to take in as much information as possible from everyone here and in doing so I wanted to provide some legitimate outside perspective of congregational life at Christ the King. Through many talks over dinner, conversations during coffee hour or time spent at adult forums, a few common narratives seemed to develop. First, I heard how the congregation had come a long way over the past few years and how a lot of tough stuff has been successfully worked out. Second, I heard a lot about how while things were in general going good at Christ the King, there were still a lot of challenges: how there was a budget deficit, how there were more jobs than people to fill them, etc. Third, I also heard about what some of the strengths of the congregation were: a great music program, and great ability to welcome guests, and of course a great pastor.

There were two things I didn’t hear however that sort of surprised me: first, what I perceived as your greatest strength wasn’t often mentioned. As I look out at the congregation today seeing all your smiling or perhaps bored faces… it’s been a long sermon, it’s easy to realize that everyone I see here is actively participating in one of the many ministries of Christ the King. Everyone’s doing something! At least compared to the other congregations I know of, that’s a really incredible thing and I think its something to be recognized and celebrated.

Second, while I heard about many amazing individual ministries here, I don’t think I really heard a general sense about what was next… where God was calling the congregation to use its many gifts. It might be that Christ the King is called to celebrate the successes of recent years and rest in that celebration… or it might be that you’re on that spiritual precipice and God is calling you to soon take that next leap of faith. I myself have no idea what’s next for everyone here, but I do know there’s should be one common denominator: recognize your gifts and celebrate where you are… you deserve it! God’s peace.

Care of Creation

As posted on my blog at the Christ the King, Wilbraham website:

Throughout the season of Lent at Christ the King, we’ve been exploring the many different faces of Christian stewardship… we’ve talked about being good stewards of our talents, our time, the Sabbath and our communities.  This past Sunday we concluded our Lenten adult forum series by talking about stewardship of God’s creation, a topic many of us were particularly passionate about.  There’s a lot involved with that sort of conversation, much more than we could ever cover in one hour, so our first issue was figuring out where to begin.

We could have talked about how to “green” the church or perhaps about how to get folks to stop using Styrofoam coffee cups and start drinking fair trade coffee, and while those are important conversations, it seemed like that would be getting a little bit ahead of ourselves.  Instead, we really wanted to start at the heart of the matter, discussing why (and even if) God calls us to care for the environment as Christians.  We all quickly agreed on the importance of environmental stewardship, and the conversation next turned to addressing why we don’t always seem to focus on that call.  It’s a topic that many folks are talking about nowadays, often by asking, “how can Christianity begin to address preserving the environment?”

After thinking quite a bit about it over the past week, I wonder if part of the problem is that we’re asking the wrong question. While I’m not a historian or a theologian, it seems like for much of its history, Christianity was very concerned with the environment.  Check out this quote from an actual theologian:

Some people, in order to discover God, read books.  But there is a great book: the very appearance of created things.  Look above you!  Look below you!  Note it.  Read it… God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink.  Instead he set before your eyes the things that he had made.  Can you ask for a louder voice than that?                       - St. Augustine (354 - 430)

And this one:

All creation is a symphony of praise to God. - Hildegard of Bingen (1098 - 1179)

And also this one (my favorite):

God writes the Gospel, not in the Bible alone, but also on trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars. - traditionally attributed to Martin Luther (1483 - 1546)

If the trees and the flowers are important expressions of God’s love (perhaps almost as important as the Gospel), it seems to logically follow that we should preserve those things.  To be fair, Martin Luther and St. Augustine never talked about reducing your carbon footprint or using light bulbs that look like curly fries, but care of creation was still a part of their message.  Perhaps then, the question should really be, “Why have many Christians turned away from caring for the environment in recent decades and how can we get back to where we were?” Asking the question phrased in that particular way for me really results in some interesting answers.

To start, I think saying “the environment” isn’t a good thing.  Much like referring to “climate change” as “global warming,” referring to God’s creation as “the environment” doesn’t fully express the concept… the environment seems like something apart from us, something “out there” (and increasingly distant).  Most Christians however, would consider themselves part of God’s creation.  I myself can’t wait for it to get warmer so I can get out in the woods or play Frisbee in the fields… the environment doesn’t seem like something I can enjoy sitting in this coffee shop.  God’s creation though is something that seems much more all around me… he even created the chocolate chip scone I’m eating right now (and very much enjoying).  If we can begin to see caring for God’s creation as caring for something we’re a part of, maybe it’ll seem a little more important. St. Augustine didn’t lock creation up in a park or wilderness preserve… he wouldn’t have seen himself as separate from the creation that he so applauded at all… why should we?

God’s peace,
Dustin