Category: Personal and Introspective

On Being (Totally) Honest with Our Congregants

I just started reading Bishop John Shelby Spong’s Jesus for the Non-Religious, and this quote from the first chapter really struck me:

Critical Biblical scholarship, having now passed through several generations, forms the frame of reference in which the Christian academy works, dramatically separating the Bible from the assumptions held by the average pew-sitters in our various churches. Yet clergy, trained for the most part in the academy, seem to join a conspiracy of silence to suppress this knowledge, fearful that if that average pew-sitter learned the content of the real debate, his or her faith would be destroyed- and with it, more importantly, his or her support for institutional Christianity.

jesus for the nonreligiousBishop Spong really gets a one of the things that drives me towards ministry and Biblical scholarship. It drives me absolutely crazy that ministers go to seminary, and spend years getting MDivs and Doctorates and learning so much great theology and scholarship, and then when they get placed with a congregation, they bring almost none of it with them.

This has always been something that bugged me since I get back into church six years ago. As I studied and learned on my own, I always wondered why pastors never seemed to bring challenging, scholarly stuff in, stuff I knew they had learned and believed and trusted.

I resolved, when I felt a calling in my own life, that I would never fail to share what I learned in seminary with the congregants I serve. Even if it was uncomfortable and challenging and hard, even if it meant a church and I needed to part ways, I never want to sugarcoat or lie hold things back or lie. I never want to compromise my own belief and theology and faith for the sake of not making waves. If I believe that stuff I learn to be true, then I have an obligation to share it and stand up for it.

And it’s not just a hard-nosed or stubborn opinion of mine. I have too much respect for and trust in my future congregants, in their honesty and intelligence and good will, that I don’t want to lie to them, or take it easy on them. I want to challenge them, to make them think and disagree and debate, because that’s what I want, and that’s what people deserve. They deserve the truth, and they deserve to contemplate and accept or reject new ideas on their own, instead of at my discretion. They deserve a religious leader who will engage honestly and intellectually with them, no matter what.

That’s something I admire about Bishop Spong. And that’s why I really couldn’t agree more with his point here.

On Being a Writer

I had the opportunity to meet and learn from the poet and social activist Andrea Gibson this last week, as a result of the hard work of some of the students at the Little Blue House at TU, where I work. They brought them* in to perform and give a writing workshop. It was an amazing two days.WP_20151015_21_44_53_Pro

If you haven’t seen Andrea perform spoken work poetry, look them up on Youtube. It’s amazing. But I want to just ruminate on the workshop, and some thoughts I had as a result.

Andrea, at the beginning of the workshop, asked who called themselves a writer and I raised my hand. Being a pastor (or a pastor-in-training, in my case) is in large part being a writer. For me, the blogging I do here is so important to my development as a spiritual leader, and I don’t intend to ever stop writing in a public forum like this. It hones my arguments and makes me think things through, as well as sharpens my writing skills.

Doing sermons is also, in a large part, writing. Taking the time to sit and craft a message, and do it in a way that is accessible and interesting and coherent; that is what sermon writing is all about. I take pride in my sermons, and I want each one to make sense, to tie together beginning and end, to be something people want to hear and read again.

And, the way I like to preach, it also becomes something of a performance. I’m not a stand-behind-the-lectern kind of person; I like to walk and gesture and interact with the congregation. I generally have my notes on a small music stand in front of me. I want to bring that element of performance into giving a sermon, because I want my sermons to be more than just an academic lecture. I know that I have a tendency to get technical and long-winded at times, and so by making it engaging by my presence and cadence, I can pique interest and hopefully fill someone’s senses in a way that they feel enlightened and reenergized by what I am saying.

Seeing Andrea perform, and also recently Evan Koons and Rob Bell, it confirms for me that speaking in front of people is something I want to do for the rest of my life. It feels right, you know? And just the opportunity to not only teach and convince, but also to perform in a way that touches people, there is such value in that.

And finally, for me, I want to continue on into my doctorate and write and teach and speak one day, and so being a writer is, in reality, the career path I have chosen.

Writing has forced me to be more introspective and vulnerable, to make sure what I believe and think is rational and coherent and accessible. And I’ve come to realize that when I say I want to be a pastor, that I want to give sermons and teach and lead, that I am in essence saying I want to be a writer.

I’m not really going anywhere with this, other than just to get some thoughts down in writing for future contemplation, and for public feedback. Thoughts?

*Andrea is genderqueer, and does not use gendered pronouns, preferring to be addressed as “they” or “them.”