July 25, 2004.
Orthopedic shoes.
That's what I saw when I opened my eyes.
A crowd had gathered around me to offer a prayer of blessing. It came at the end of my ordination service, which happened ten years ago today.
The shoes belonged to our seminary's emeritus professor of biblical languages, the Rev. Dr. Henry Moeller. An elder American Baptist minister, he kept up in retirement with teaching for many years, including the two introductory units to Biblical Greek and Hebrew. He attended my ordination and happened to be the closest person to me when I moved to the middle of the sanctuary to kneel in the middle of the aisle.
The idea was to have the whole congregation involved in the prayers of ordination, reflecting the Baptist affirmation of ministry being carried out by the priesthood of all believers. Ordination comes from the midst of the people for Baptists, given our Free Church ecclesiology. So, with the clergy, congregants, seminary faculty, denominational officials and gathered family and friends, I found myself looking at a pair of orthopedic shoes when I opened my eyes, and I realized that Dr. Moeller's hand had been the one gently placed on my head just after I settled into the kneeling position on the middle aisle carpet.
As I look back at the last ten years, I am reminded of the itinerant nature of ministry. For example, I am writing these words while living in Albany, New York, spending most of this decade in ministry away from my native Kansas. Over the past decade, I served around Kansas City as a bi-vocational minister and a seminary adjunct instructor in theology. In 2006, we moved to Vermont where I served as an intentional interim minister (a three year call that morphed into another four years working with a church struggling with transition). And a year ago, I began serving in a Regional ministry capacity in upstate New York.
I am deeply hesitant to describe any of that last paragraph in terms of "career path". It has and always will be about pastoral vocation, the call to serve Christ and the Church. I give thanks for the past ten years, even as I can note like any pastor the sometimes crazy hours, the stress and fatigue and the challenging times where I found myself in the midst of doubt.
By and large, churches have declined over the past decade, though at least we are more able and willing to talk about it. Even back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, it did not seem we were as ready to speak about smaller churches as more normative, let alone the realities at hand where part-time is the primary way most ministers are serving churches. The Atlantic Monthly published an article earlier this month on the realities facing ministers, especially those just entering into the ministry: http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2014/07/higher-calling-lower-wages-the-collapse-of-the-middle-class-clergy/374786/
Vocation is a life long pursuit, making ministry more of an ongoing story, a plot where doubt and faith interplay and intertwine. I do not necessarily know where I am going (don't we all?), yet I am glad to be in the midst of a life that is also in the "business" of serving and enriching the spiritual life of fellow believers.
And along the way, we are reminded of the way the sacred appears in strange and wondrous ways, encounters with orthopedic shoes included.
Thanks be to God! Amen.
Sermons and occasional writings of the Rev. Jerrod H. Hugenot. (Note: The perspectives offered on this website may not necessarily reflect my employing ministry, the American Baptist Churches of New York State.)
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Book Review: Gail Irwin's Toward the Better Country: Church Closure and Resurrection
Irwin,
L. Gail. Toward the Better Country: Church Closure and Resurrection. Eugene, OR: Resource Publications. ISBN # 978-1-62564-231-8. $22.00.
One of post-2008 Recession’s reality checks has been the challenge placed on many congregations and denominations. Local churches were frail enough already, and for some, the economic downturn accelerated a series of anxious questions and difficult decisions. Churches closed. Some churches lost significant endowments while also dealing with the consequences of higher than prudent use of principle if not their dividends to meet operational shortfalls. Churches without a reasonable grasp of their financial and property management (admittedly few and far between) are still bailing out the water, often casting clergy with modest compensation and some benefits overboard in favor of part-time pastors who still are expected to keep up with the duties of their predecessors.
RESOURCES:
Gail Irwin's ongoing blog posts can be read via: http://freelancepastor.wordpress.com/.
Likewise, check out the active discussion Facebook group "Congregational Seasons", exploring churches in various forms of transition and resurrection. Log on to your Facebook account, type "Congregational Seasons" in the search bar, and then you can request to join this group and receive updates, including occasional posts from Gail Irwin!
One of post-2008 Recession’s reality checks has been the challenge placed on many congregations and denominations. Local churches were frail enough already, and for some, the economic downturn accelerated a series of anxious questions and difficult decisions. Churches closed. Some churches lost significant endowments while also dealing with the consequences of higher than prudent use of principle if not their dividends to meet operational shortfalls. Churches without a reasonable grasp of their financial and property management (admittedly few and far between) are still bailing out the water, often casting clergy with modest compensation and some benefits overboard in favor of part-time pastors who still are expected to keep up with the duties of their predecessors.
It’s been a tough few years, hasn’t
it? Working with churches as a
judicatory staff member has attuned me to the types of conversations churches
attempted over the years. The churches
who met the challenges with diligence and thoughtful planning have navigated
the rough seas as gracefully as one could expect. For others, conflicted or mismanaged
congregations are worse, not better, for the experience. Some clergy look forward with relief that
retirement can be no longer deferred.
Others ponder what ministry will be like with twenty-plus years still to
go, facing a future of primarily only bi-vocational opportunities with few, if
any, pension and healthcare provisions.
Add in the studies regarding pastoral attrition, and it’s a volatile
mix.
Called into the midst of ministry in
these times, the Rev. L. Gail Irwin, an ordained minister and freelance writer,
offers some deeply pastoral words for persons who love the local church yet
struggle greatly with the challenges of stricken stewardship, waning relevance
and buildings leaking and creaking in rural towns and inner cities. Through this book, Irwin summons us to
remember the God who turns mourning into dancing, seeing new possibilities
where decline, decay and death have seemed the only viable futures available to
some congregations.
Irwin speaks as a minister well
acquainted with the faltering churches of our day. She shares earnestly of her pastoral and
personal frustrations and heartache as congregations she served could not
embrace healthier ways as well as moments when she could see a far greater
narrative at hand than the dispirited faithful could tell about their
future.
Irwin’s forthright prose speaks to the
truthfulness of congregational longevity.
History is marked with the rising up and the drawing to a close of
countless congregations, yet in our post-Christendom funk, we feel ourselves
particularly challenged. Irwin observes,
“The decline we are seeing now in the life of institutional churches is part of
the greater story of how God keeps nudging us out of our comfort zones and on
to that better country. It is our task
to keep moving forward with trust, even when we’re not sure where we are
headed” (p. 21).
The book offers wise words for all who
love and toil within the world of congregations: congregants, lay leaders,
pastors and denominational staff. Irwin
invites us to address the depth of our grief when hard decisions loom. Taking stock of the psychological and
spiritual toll difficult times place on church leaders is encouraged as
well. I found her chapter on
“Expressions of Grief in the Faith Community” especially helpful as I work with
congregations, and I admit her thoughts helped me process some unresolved
matters still lingering within my own pastoral journey with struggling
congregations.
Irwin challenges churches to have a
clear understanding of the possibilities before churches aware that they are
nearing an ending. Understanding the
community around a congregation and realigning the church’s mission may move a
closure situation into revitalization. Irwin offers laity and clergy the
opportunity to consider several pathways into the future rather than the “boom
or bust” mentality far too familiar. She reminds the reader that hard decisions
are best made within the faith community together, not just deferred to a few
key leaders or the clergy (or the bishop/judicatory official, etc.). While we struggle, it is helpful to remember
that the facing of the future is communal as much as it is inevitable! Irwin wisely observes, “Once we are able to
face the change that is already happening around us, we may open our hearts to
the possibility that God is yet at work in our struggling churches” (p. 38).
Reading the book slowly and thoughtfully
will give you the opportunity to hear the wisdom of persons interviewed by
Irwin and assure you that your church’s challenges are very much relevant
issues among many churches. The
questions accompanying each chapter offer a number of thoughtful reflection
opportunities for individuals as well as small groups. Pastoral collegiality groups would find this
particular helpful, as the book addresses many situations of church transition
and challenge commonly experienced at some point over the years of ministry, if
not already!
The book also addresses the fruitful
ways churches can opt for closure. The
way in which a church plans its last wishes, divesting of all assets, can be a
time of building up a lasting legacy.
Practical advice helps difficult decisions be ones of great joy,
reminding us that one congregation’s ending is the beginning of something else
God will plant and bring to flower.
Resurrection, we are reminded, comes in many wonderful ways, bringing
new life where it was thought to be otherwise!
Thursday, July 10, 2014
The Growth of Intention (Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23)
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The St. John's Bible illuminates the NRSV text with the Sower parable. Amusingly, a scribal error left a line out of this particular page, so they added the omitted line of text in the lower margins, showing it being towed back into place by one of the parable's birds. http://www.artsmia.org/illuminating-the-word/selected-pages-3.cfm |
So you buy the best seed you can afford, you hope to have a good season of the right mix of rain and sun, you hope for a decent price when it’s time to sell to the grain elevator. You go to extraordinary lengths trying out the latest techniques (or locally, the latest cannon). But deep down, even the most religiously indifferent farmer will say muttered prayers, “Please, O Lord, no hail. No floods. No drought. No grain price crash. That’s all I ask. Amen.”
The parable of the seed scattered is not a good one to tell. It gets worse before it even thinks about getting better. New Testament scholar Warren Carter points out that of all the seed scattered, three-quarters of that seed “will come to naught.” This is not a story I pick up the phone and call my retired farmer dad to say, “Have you heard this one?” The seeds that “come to naught”, besieged by birds, thorns, stony ground, none of that really makes for delightful conversation with dad. Instead, the parable reminds a farmer about those times when you glumly survey the dashed dreams of a bumper crop just disappearing before your very eyes.
It makes that one quarter of seed, the seed that produces considerable crops, that much more important. Go down to the grain elevator and listen to the old timers, retired from running combines, but not from running their mouths, holding court over greasy glazed doughnuts and stout coffee in mugs marked “John Deere”. Then you will hear of the “little seed that could”: “Oh yeah? Well, I put in that seed in the worst land I had, Roy, and I came away with the best yield ever.” “Earl, you got eighty bushels an acre? Try ninety two!”
The parable goes from bad (birds, thorns, rocks) to overwhelming (100 fold, 60 fold, 30 fold). The parable adds an unexpected plot twist to end the story of harsh reality (the likelihood of crop damage, low yield, and crop failure) on a much different note. The seed that could have failed just as easily as all the rest, but it did not. Instead, the retired farmers drop their doughnuts on the floor as the young whippersnapper shows up with a truck overloaded with seed. “How many fields did you cut to get all that?” one asks. “About half of the first one. I’ve got three more fields just like it.” With that, the John Deere coffee mugs clink together like champagne glasses on Wall Street.
The parable of the seed reminds me of the concept of “euchastrophe”. You have heard of “catastrophe”, where everything that can go wrong goes wrong. The British writer JRR Tolkein, author of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, suggested that there are stories that end on unexpected but abundantly good notes. The parable plays out the story of a sower who scatters the seed, the unfortunate reality that not all seed takes root or really has a chance of growing, let alone being harvested. Then there is the seed that literally hits pay dirt. An abundant harvest is the last thing that you are prepared to hear when everything else is a tale of woe. Then “euchastrophe” strikes, and you couldn’t be happier!
In the words of parables scholar Bernard Brandon Scott, the parables of Jesus offer the listener a chance to “reimagine the world”. You know the world of crop failure all too well, but this notion of an abundant crop, even with the odds against you, well, that seems to require a bit more engagement on our part. We have to take what we know as “how the world works” and see God in the middle of that world, pretty much disrupting it. Abundance in times when there ought to be not much at all is not the stuff of reality. This parable presumes that with God in the fray, things will go according to an altogether different plan!
Hence, we have the conversation after the parable. The parable itself could have been just there to hear and interpret, but Jesus offers a bit more insight about this parable. He tells the crowds who gather that you might think you have listened to the parable, but many of you have not heard it. If you have to ask, you might not get it at all. Then, he whisks away to talk with his inner circle, leaving the crowds to mull what he has said.
The parable of “a sower goes out” appears in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, however, each one of them puts their own spin on the parable. Here, Matthew adds quite a bit of interpretation about this seed and the mostly bad, save one, places where it was sown. Jesus tells the disciples to pay attention to where the seed never took root. The seed is “the word of the kingdom”, in other words, Jesus’ message of the Kingdom of Heaven, this vision of what Jesus’ ministry was bringing into the world. Those who take it deep into their hearts, the results are amazing. Jesus says, “ But as for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”
Have you met someone who lives out this parable? We can name the saints, great and small, who have contributed greatly to the cause of the Gospel and the mission of the Church. Scattered with astonishing liberality, the seed works in mysterious ways. You see it germinating as that person who has “no time” makes time to ladle soup at a homeless shelter. The seed takes root when a retiree finds that it’s kind of fun to read to kids down at the library. The seed buds when that youth on a mission trip becomes less of a vacation and more a summons to a vocation.
Just like scattered seeds, the Word does not flourish everywhere it is given. Whether it is sin, apathy, or temptation, some folks simply will not hear the Word and take it to heart. We can also name some folks that we know who have not lived out this parable, who, for a variety of reasons, have very little interest in the faith, keeping it, living it out, or confessing it. For every baptism, every confirmation class, every parish record book known to be on file throughout the Church universal, it might seem that this parable’s mulling over crop failure seems a bit apropos.
Then I recollected a sermon I heard years ago given by Fred Craddock. Craddock turned this parable into a very careful reminder that we should not get too caught up in labeling folks as to whether or not they were likely to be crop failure. He reminds us that it is God doing the work, not us, so we would best leave things alone. What looks like crop failure instead might turn out differently, might be the seed that caught on and created a good yield by the time that the harvest rolls around.
Fred Craddock observes, “No farmer puts a seed in the soil and then screams at it, ‘Now, come on, get up!’” Instead, we take a step back and let the growing process happen. It is not for us to question whether the crop will fail or show a big yield. We could try to shout at the seed and the soil to perform, but again, it’s that curious mystery where we cannot predict the yield, only to take Jesus at his word that with attentiveness to God, great things become possible.
Some folks might want to prejudge the crop even before the seed is scattered. Others might think that the soil will never be good enough, or there is always too many birds and rocks and thorns to contend with. Instead, let the sower do her work.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
The Prosperity of a People: Celebrating 225 years of Ministry in Hartford New York
Around New York, many of our American Baptist congregations share a denominational affiliation with another Baptist denomination (particularly the National Baptist Convention and the Progressive National Baptist Convention) or another mainline Protestant denomination (United Methodist, Presbyterian Church/USA, United Church of Christ, Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), etc.). Federated churches, union churches, and churches who "share" together (aka "yoke" in older language) a pastor or other key staff or congregational resources help our churches strengthen their ministry through creative partnerships.
Among these churches is the Hartford Yoked Parish (ABC and UCC) in Hartford, NY, which just marked its 225th year of ministry when the former Hartford Baptist Church was founded in 1789. A great summary of the church's ministry and its historic church facility and grounds can be read via: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hartford_Baptist_Church.
Celebrating these continuous years of ministry and their latter day partnership with the UCC congregation, the Hartford church members celebrated with an outdoor BBQ and picnic and then a service of celebration. I was honored to speak on the ABCNYS Region's behalf with the evening message:
[PSALM 92 was read just beforehand. To read this Psalm, click on this link: http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=psalm+92.]
To the saints of the Hartford Yoked Parish, whose witness continues as with your forbearers, gathering faithfully to offer praise and thanksgiving to God, made known to us in Christ Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit, I bring you greetings on behalf of the 294 churches of the American Baptist Churches of New York State and our Executive Minister, the Rev. Dr. Jim Kelsey.
The reading of the 92nd Psalm is quite intentional on a church’s anniversary celebration. Of the 150 Psalms, this one is specifically noted as a psalm befitting the Sabbath itself. In this Psalm, we learn of the core belief of ancient Israel: God is at the center of all, and those who follow God shall know the rich and full life that the righteous humbly seek while the wicked chase after the life that is thought be good yet fades away. In the midst of the Psalms, which are a veritable kaleidoscope of praise and lament, this particular Psalm is given for the Sabbath, where Israel takes its rest from the fields of toil and life’s worry and gathers before God in reverent praise. Sabbath is at the heart of biblical worship, even if we struggle to make Sabbath the heart of what *we* worship.
Therefore, those who call upon the Lord in all times and seasons of life find great strength in those things the world might find trivial or weak. To be a person of prayer makes little sense to those always driving hard at a deadline. To offer a humble act of compassion might not be understood in a world where barreling ahead with little regard for others is thought to raise your profile.
What happens when you step out of the rapid pace of culture and economics and globalization and spend time in a wooden pew, listening to the words of long-dead prophets and a peasant rabbi from first century Palestine whose teachings spend most of their time dismantling the world’s frantic self-
serving priorities?
Among these churches is the Hartford Yoked Parish (ABC and UCC) in Hartford, NY, which just marked its 225th year of ministry when the former Hartford Baptist Church was founded in 1789. A great summary of the church's ministry and its historic church facility and grounds can be read via: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hartford_Baptist_Church.
Celebrating these continuous years of ministry and their latter day partnership with the UCC congregation, the Hartford church members celebrated with an outdoor BBQ and picnic and then a service of celebration. I was honored to speak on the ABCNYS Region's behalf with the evening message:
[PSALM 92 was read just beforehand. To read this Psalm, click on this link: http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=psalm+92.]
To the saints of the Hartford Yoked Parish, whose witness continues as with your forbearers, gathering faithfully to offer praise and thanksgiving to God, made known to us in Christ Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit, I bring you greetings on behalf of the 294 churches of the American Baptist Churches of New York State and our Executive Minister, the Rev. Dr. Jim Kelsey.
On this splendid evening of food, fellowship and worship,
we gather to celebrate the two hundred twenty-five years of ministry. It is a grand occasion to celebrate the
bounty of years, yet we realize that we only came to this night of celebration
due to the steadfast determination of a parish to keep worshipping week after
week, year after year, decade after decade.
To make it to the 225th year of ministry, this congregation
has gathered for many Sundays, literally 11,700 mornings when the Sabbath was
kept, hymns and prayers were offered, babies presented, persons confessing the
faith and entering into the waters of baptism.
Over eleven thousand Sundays, sermons were preached (and sometimes
undoubtedly repeated by pastors or slept through by congregants) and the
worship of God in the midst of this community created a place where the Good
News could be heard faithfully in word and deed alike.
The reading of the 92nd Psalm is quite intentional on a church’s anniversary celebration. Of the 150 Psalms, this one is specifically noted as a psalm befitting the Sabbath itself. In this Psalm, we learn of the core belief of ancient Israel: God is at the center of all, and those who follow God shall know the rich and full life that the righteous humbly seek while the wicked chase after the life that is thought be good yet fades away. In the midst of the Psalms, which are a veritable kaleidoscope of praise and lament, this particular Psalm is given for the Sabbath, where Israel takes its rest from the fields of toil and life’s worry and gathers before God in reverent praise. Sabbath is at the heart of biblical worship, even if we struggle to make Sabbath the heart of what *we* worship.
Long-faithful congregations like the Hartford Yoked
Parish become like the mighty cedar or the palm tree (even if they would find
the imagery of Mediterranean ancient Palestine a bit strange in the
Adirondacks). Congregations can enjoy
the sweetness of many years of faithfulness, a counter balance or grace note to
the realities that congregations also have histories where conflict, discord
and ebb and flow also factor into the telling of a church’s history, if it is a
truthful telling.
To a congregation where so many years have been given
faithfully to the worship of God, certain sweetness accompanies these words of
praise that only the deeply faithful can appreciate. The longer one abides in God, the less attractive
or distracting the rest of the world becomes.
The Psalmist calls us to praise in the brightness of day and the lonely
hours of nighttime, our hearts and minds given over to the assurance, no matter
the world’s direst times or life’s lowest moments, the God who brought a people
out of Egyptian captivity, whose authority is strangely unlike any ruler this
world has known, shall be steadfast in love, mercy, redemption and grace.
Therefore, those who call upon the Lord in all times and seasons of life find great strength in those things the world might find trivial or weak. To be a person of prayer makes little sense to those always driving hard at a deadline. To offer a humble act of compassion might not be understood in a world where barreling ahead with little regard for others is thought to raise your profile.
What happens when you step out of the rapid pace of culture and economics and globalization and spend time in a wooden pew, listening to the words of long-dead prophets and a peasant rabbi from first century Palestine whose teachings spend most of their time dismantling the world’s frantic self-
serving priorities?
Eleven thousand, seven hundred Sundays may seem a drop of
the bucket, given the millennia of human history, the rise and fall of empires
and kingdoms, let alone the gale force winds of change and progress known to
every generation. What difference does a
Sabbath make in the midst of the days that race by? What happens when you choose to be a people
who keep the Sabbath and therefore find your rest, despite the urge to push
ahead?
Eleven hundred, seven hundred Sundays. Might have missed a few due to snow
fall. Some sermons might have been
repeated (or even slept through). Yet
the Sabbath has been kept and kept holy by a Sabbath people. May we give thanks for a faithful witness,
two hundred twenty five years and counting, and may we keep the Sabbath yet
again tomorrow, with renewed understanding that indeed, we gather before the Lord,
to whom we shall sing praise by the morning’s light and the night’s
shadows. AMEN.
Friday, June 27, 2014
A Mission Opportunity to Bring Health and Hope
When we moved to Albany a year ago, my wife and I worried about a lot of things. Some of it had to do with arranging furniture. Some of it had to do with orchestrating all of the real estate matters and bank matters. One thing we did not even think about was access to water.
For many readers, the ability to turn on a tap and have plenty of drinkable water instantly is a given. Yet for many people around the world, water sources are few, and even then, not necessarily safe for human consumption.
The American Baptist Churches of New York State are working together with the AMOS Health Project (http://www.amoshealth.org/) to bring new sources of water filtration to rural communities in Nicaragua and other vital ministries meeting the basic human needs (healthcare access, economic support, etc.). In April 2015, a mission trip opportunity is available to persons interested in traveling to Nicaragua and working with AMOS staff to bring water filtration systems for communities where very little useable water can be counted on.
To learn more about the ABCNYS mission trip, visit the special trip page via: http://www.abc-nys.org/programs/missions/nicaragua. A brief video featuring Dr. Roberto Martinez explains the aims and objectives of bringing health and hope to Nicaraguan communities.
NOTE: A special call-in opportunity will be offered on Roberto will be hosting a conference call on July 1st @ 7:00pm. Call in, hear the amazing mission in Nicaragua & ask questions...all from the comforts of home! Contact Christy Siau, csiau@abc-nys.org or 315.469.4236 x12 for call instructions.
Please note a trip deposit and a deadline factor into expressing your interest in participating. Certainly, anyone is welcome on this trip, so you can invite others to join in this missional effort, regardless of their affiliation with an ABCNYS related church. All skills and talents are welcome!
The ABCNYS Mission Trip is seeking donors to raise $6,000 to support the trip's expenses. A tax deductible donation can be sent to ABCNYS' Region Office (www.abc-nys.org).
For some perspective on the global water issues, access recent United Nations' special reports via: http://www.unwater.org/publications/world-water-development-report/en/
For many readers, the ability to turn on a tap and have plenty of drinkable water instantly is a given. Yet for many people around the world, water sources are few, and even then, not necessarily safe for human consumption.
The American Baptist Churches of New York State are working together with the AMOS Health Project (http://www.amoshealth.org/) to bring new sources of water filtration to rural communities in Nicaragua and other vital ministries meeting the basic human needs (healthcare access, economic support, etc.). In April 2015, a mission trip opportunity is available to persons interested in traveling to Nicaragua and working with AMOS staff to bring water filtration systems for communities where very little useable water can be counted on.
To learn more about the ABCNYS mission trip, visit the special trip page via: http://www.abc-nys.org/programs/missions/nicaragua. A brief video featuring Dr. Roberto Martinez explains the aims and objectives of bringing health and hope to Nicaraguan communities.
NOTE: A special call-in opportunity will be offered on Roberto will be hosting a conference call on July 1st @ 7:00pm. Call in, hear the amazing mission in Nicaragua & ask questions...all from the comforts of home! Contact Christy Siau, csiau@abc-nys.org or 315.469.4236 x12 for call instructions.
Please note a trip deposit and a deadline factor into expressing your interest in participating. Certainly, anyone is welcome on this trip, so you can invite others to join in this missional effort, regardless of their affiliation with an ABCNYS related church. All skills and talents are welcome!
The ABCNYS Mission Trip is seeking donors to raise $6,000 to support the trip's expenses. A tax deductible donation can be sent to ABCNYS' Region Office (www.abc-nys.org).
For some perspective on the global water issues, access recent United Nations' special reports via: http://www.unwater.org/publications/world-water-development-report/en/
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Of Endings and Beginnings: First Baptist Church of Cambridge NY (1843-2014)
On Sunday, June 8, 2014, Christians around the world celebrated Pentecost, the day of the Spirit coming to breathe life into the newly formed Church. Early Christians experienced this day as a day when the Christian message began to accelerate, fueled by the Spirit and Christ's call to go to the ends of the earth.
On this particular Pentecost, the small town of Cambridge, NY, near the Vermont border, found Christians gathered for a bittersweet Pentecost celebration. The First Baptist Church of Cambridge, NY, voted to close its doors on Pentecost Sunday. While a difficult decision, the church was gladdened greatly by the support of their community. Two sister congregations (United Presbyterian and the Coila Community Church) opted to join with them in the final worship service, and the other two churches provided the hospitality and some of the food to allow the seven remaining active members of First Baptist (and all those who returned for the last Sunday celebration) to focus on the day's festivities. Out of such kindness and community effort came a beautiful day of reflection, grief, laughter, music and thanksgiving. It was my privilege to share the sermon that morning. Here are my remarks, referencing the Acts 2:1-8 passage as well as some wise words about dying and rising in Christ from the writings of Paul (1 Corinthians 15:53-58):
In rural England, you encounter a variety of old churches, built many years ago and part of the charm tourists find on vacations where they leave the hustle and bustle of London and the other great cities for the open fields and beauty of the English countryside. In the small village of East Coker in the southern part of Somerset, the village church is the final resting place of a noteworthy poet.
The ashes of T.S. Eliot, the celebrated 20th century poet, are interred there with a plaque that reads: “In my beginning is my end. Of your kindness, pray for the soul of Thomas Stearns Eliot, poet. In my end is my beginning.”
As I read these words, I became quite curious. Many gravestones and memorial plaques simply list a person’s name, dates of death and birth, and perhaps another brief note (i.e. the name of a spouse, the deceased’s affiliation with military rank and service or perhaps a fraternal symbol such as the Masonic Lodge or a symbol of faith such as a cross, a dove, or a Bible).
The words chosen by Eliot (or perhaps one of his family members) create a different sort of memorial, reminding the beholder to remember that a place of burial is a sacred site, not merely for the noting of the last resting place of a famous (or just ordinary) person. A sign saying “Here on this spot is buried” is a bit too unseemly for my liking, something for a tourist coming to gawk rather than a guide to the pilgrim, reminding us in a graceful way to recall a beloved child of God, buried with the most humble of notices that here is his resting place.
Part of the plaque’s text is drawn from Eliot’s own poetry. We hear two lines: “In my beginning is my end.” and “In my end is my beginning.” The first line “In my beginning is my end” would be the most logical sounding of the two. We understand that life begins and it ends. Despite our best medical treatments and procedures, we cannot get out of death alive. Our beginning must have an ending, enough said.
And today, we find ourselves dealing with the complex grief of saying good-bye to a church. Established in 1843, the First Baptist Church of Cambridge, NY, came together when Baptists around the locality decided it was time to have a place they could gather to worship together (and have countless potluck dinners!). The church knew adversity like any other church: pastors arrived and later departed (hopefully never in the middle of the night, destination unknown). Children were entered onto cradle rolls by beaming parents, learned the gospel’s stories and followed Christ obediently into the waters of baptism (the cold water of local streams and ponds likely reinforced their sense of joy when brought back up out of them!). People were born, baptized and married in the midst of the fellowship, first in the original building down the street and in later decades here in this place. And in the end, those who were faithful to Christ were buried, interred in other places, yet mourned most keenly by their “other” family: their brothers and sisters in Christ.
An abundance of ministry happened in the 9000 Sundays (and the days in between) for the gathered people called “First Baptist, Cambridge”. Yet, we acknowledge humbly with the poet, “In my beginning is my end”. We know that no one congregation keeps going forever and ever. Every church has a life span, a finite amount of time.
When I served in Vermont, I read the History of Baptists in Vermont, published in 1913 on the “centennial” of Baptist churches forming in our neighboring state. Even then in 1913, the historian noted a number of churches that formed and were no longer worshipping within the span of 100 years (a short time considering some churches can number their years in centuries, let alone decades). Nonetheless, the truth remains: no one congregation is infinite.
Like the humans worshipping within its four walls, even churches come to an end. Yet as we mourn the closing of First Baptist, Cambridge, we also realize that there’s no “final word” on this day’s events until God has given it. For even as the doors will close, the building will cease to be the gathering place of a congregation that will disperse, a good number of things will come to pass well beyond this moment.
Christians realize that Eliot spoke the truth twice over. “In my beginning is my end” we must say with due awareness of the limits of life. Yet with our faithful witness to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we can join Eliot in saying (perhaps even shouting aloud), “In my end is my beginning”.
If preaching is about speaking the truth in love, so must this day not end with mourning. Grief is certainly part of the subtext of a church’s final act of public worship, yet the text of church worship is not “death” but affirming the promised end that not only surpasses death, it destroys it fully. In our hope of the Resurrection, we see that the closing of one congregation’s doors is a time to remember with thanksgiving, tears and tremendous joy the 171 years of worship, witness and welcome that the generations of this church has provided here in this community. We realize that today is a day to cry yet it is also a day to celebrate, for we worship the Lord who turns our mourning into dancing.
“In my end is my beginning”, boldly states the poet’s epitaph. So the church members will disband yet join up with other area congregations.
“In the end is my beginning”, so shall the church building and grounds become something new and hopefully continuing in its service to the community.
“In the end is my beginning”, so shall the church’s physical and financial assets live on in service through the congregation’s legacy building investments in the future of this community and the Gospel.
As this day neared, I would mention to colleagues that I was preaching a church’s “last sermon” on Pentecost Sunday. In addition to the sadness the news brought to them, there were also some confessional moments of befuddlement. How can you close a church on Pentecost? After all, it’s the day of celebrating the beginnings of the church, when the Spirit of God moved in the midst of the disciples, igniting the gifts of the many for the glory of God and the sending forth of a movement that would fulfill its mandate to go to the ends of the earth. On such a day of high celebration and birth, why would we bring up the sorrowful note of sorrow and closure?
We celebrate this day that Pentecost is not a day’s events from long ago. We celebrate the tremendous winds of the Spirit of God always moving in the midst of the people of God. The places of worship may ebb and flow, open and close, yet the worship of God never ceases. The membership may rise and fall with one parish roll, yet the Body of Christ is always growing with abundance.
May we remember this day fondly and prayerfully and honor the tears as they flow. May we walk from this place, knowing that the band of believers goes onward to join up with others around town and in the nearby communities. May we remember that this day celebrates as all the other days before it and yet to come, that the story of First Baptist, Cambridge, is not finished, for it is part of the greatest story still unfolding: the gospel made known through the witness of Christ and his saints.
May we remember as pilgrims each time we think of this church’s ministry in the community, of its 171 years of faithful witness, just as those who pass another country parish church elsewhere in the world and behold the good word of a beloved poet, whose words we gladly revise this day to read:
In my beginning is my end.
Of your kindness, pray for the legacy of witness of the First Baptist Church of Cambridge, NY.
In my end is my beginning.
AMEN.
On this particular Pentecost, the small town of Cambridge, NY, near the Vermont border, found Christians gathered for a bittersweet Pentecost celebration. The First Baptist Church of Cambridge, NY, voted to close its doors on Pentecost Sunday. While a difficult decision, the church was gladdened greatly by the support of their community. Two sister congregations (United Presbyterian and the Coila Community Church) opted to join with them in the final worship service, and the other two churches provided the hospitality and some of the food to allow the seven remaining active members of First Baptist (and all those who returned for the last Sunday celebration) to focus on the day's festivities. Out of such kindness and community effort came a beautiful day of reflection, grief, laughter, music and thanksgiving. It was my privilege to share the sermon that morning. Here are my remarks, referencing the Acts 2:1-8 passage as well as some wise words about dying and rising in Christ from the writings of Paul (1 Corinthians 15:53-58):
In rural England, you encounter a variety of old churches, built many years ago and part of the charm tourists find on vacations where they leave the hustle and bustle of London and the other great cities for the open fields and beauty of the English countryside. In the small village of East Coker in the southern part of Somerset, the village church is the final resting place of a noteworthy poet.

As I read these words, I became quite curious. Many gravestones and memorial plaques simply list a person’s name, dates of death and birth, and perhaps another brief note (i.e. the name of a spouse, the deceased’s affiliation with military rank and service or perhaps a fraternal symbol such as the Masonic Lodge or a symbol of faith such as a cross, a dove, or a Bible).
The words chosen by Eliot (or perhaps one of his family members) create a different sort of memorial, reminding the beholder to remember that a place of burial is a sacred site, not merely for the noting of the last resting place of a famous (or just ordinary) person. A sign saying “Here on this spot is buried” is a bit too unseemly for my liking, something for a tourist coming to gawk rather than a guide to the pilgrim, reminding us in a graceful way to recall a beloved child of God, buried with the most humble of notices that here is his resting place.
Part of the plaque’s text is drawn from Eliot’s own poetry. We hear two lines: “In my beginning is my end.” and “In my end is my beginning.” The first line “In my beginning is my end” would be the most logical sounding of the two. We understand that life begins and it ends. Despite our best medical treatments and procedures, we cannot get out of death alive. Our beginning must have an ending, enough said.
And today, we find ourselves dealing with the complex grief of saying good-bye to a church. Established in 1843, the First Baptist Church of Cambridge, NY, came together when Baptists around the locality decided it was time to have a place they could gather to worship together (and have countless potluck dinners!). The church knew adversity like any other church: pastors arrived and later departed (hopefully never in the middle of the night, destination unknown). Children were entered onto cradle rolls by beaming parents, learned the gospel’s stories and followed Christ obediently into the waters of baptism (the cold water of local streams and ponds likely reinforced their sense of joy when brought back up out of them!). People were born, baptized and married in the midst of the fellowship, first in the original building down the street and in later decades here in this place. And in the end, those who were faithful to Christ were buried, interred in other places, yet mourned most keenly by their “other” family: their brothers and sisters in Christ.
An abundance of ministry happened in the 9000 Sundays (and the days in between) for the gathered people called “First Baptist, Cambridge”. Yet, we acknowledge humbly with the poet, “In my beginning is my end”. We know that no one congregation keeps going forever and ever. Every church has a life span, a finite amount of time.
When I served in Vermont, I read the History of Baptists in Vermont, published in 1913 on the “centennial” of Baptist churches forming in our neighboring state. Even then in 1913, the historian noted a number of churches that formed and were no longer worshipping within the span of 100 years (a short time considering some churches can number their years in centuries, let alone decades). Nonetheless, the truth remains: no one congregation is infinite.
Like the humans worshipping within its four walls, even churches come to an end. Yet as we mourn the closing of First Baptist, Cambridge, we also realize that there’s no “final word” on this day’s events until God has given it. For even as the doors will close, the building will cease to be the gathering place of a congregation that will disperse, a good number of things will come to pass well beyond this moment.
Christians realize that Eliot spoke the truth twice over. “In my beginning is my end” we must say with due awareness of the limits of life. Yet with our faithful witness to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we can join Eliot in saying (perhaps even shouting aloud), “In my end is my beginning”.
If preaching is about speaking the truth in love, so must this day not end with mourning. Grief is certainly part of the subtext of a church’s final act of public worship, yet the text of church worship is not “death” but affirming the promised end that not only surpasses death, it destroys it fully. In our hope of the Resurrection, we see that the closing of one congregation’s doors is a time to remember with thanksgiving, tears and tremendous joy the 171 years of worship, witness and welcome that the generations of this church has provided here in this community. We realize that today is a day to cry yet it is also a day to celebrate, for we worship the Lord who turns our mourning into dancing.
“In my end is my beginning”, boldly states the poet’s epitaph. So the church members will disband yet join up with other area congregations.
“In the end is my beginning”, so shall the church building and grounds become something new and hopefully continuing in its service to the community.
“In the end is my beginning”, so shall the church’s physical and financial assets live on in service through the congregation’s legacy building investments in the future of this community and the Gospel.
As this day neared, I would mention to colleagues that I was preaching a church’s “last sermon” on Pentecost Sunday. In addition to the sadness the news brought to them, there were also some confessional moments of befuddlement. How can you close a church on Pentecost? After all, it’s the day of celebrating the beginnings of the church, when the Spirit of God moved in the midst of the disciples, igniting the gifts of the many for the glory of God and the sending forth of a movement that would fulfill its mandate to go to the ends of the earth. On such a day of high celebration and birth, why would we bring up the sorrowful note of sorrow and closure?
We celebrate this day that Pentecost is not a day’s events from long ago. We celebrate the tremendous winds of the Spirit of God always moving in the midst of the people of God. The places of worship may ebb and flow, open and close, yet the worship of God never ceases. The membership may rise and fall with one parish roll, yet the Body of Christ is always growing with abundance.
May we remember this day fondly and prayerfully and honor the tears as they flow. May we walk from this place, knowing that the band of believers goes onward to join up with others around town and in the nearby communities. May we remember that this day celebrates as all the other days before it and yet to come, that the story of First Baptist, Cambridge, is not finished, for it is part of the greatest story still unfolding: the gospel made known through the witness of Christ and his saints.
May we remember as pilgrims each time we think of this church’s ministry in the community, of its 171 years of faithful witness, just as those who pass another country parish church elsewhere in the world and behold the good word of a beloved poet, whose words we gladly revise this day to read:
In my beginning is my end.
Of your kindness, pray for the legacy of witness of the First Baptist Church of Cambridge, NY.
In my end is my beginning.
AMEN.
Friday, June 13, 2014
First impressions: Skype and search committees
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Remember: Blinking is a bad idea. |
So what happens next? In the space of the following five seconds, the candidate fidgets, trying to prepare a response on the fly. Feeling a bit nervous, the candidate squirms in the chair, coughs (for time) and then addresses the question trying to project as much calm in vocal tone as possible (all while the brow is furrowed in tense concentration).
If this moment happened over the phone, most of what the candidate did to prepare for answering the question would not be seen. For many clergy, search committees are asking for first interviews by Skype or similar platforms, beginning to adopt to available technologies yet changing how a candidate is perceived by adding "face" as well as "voice" to their formation of a first impression of a candidate. The nerves, the fidgeting, the furrowed brow: all are literally on display in that brief moment!
The advent of free video conferencing programs and apps has created a challenge for clergy to learn new interviewing skill sets not necessarily fathomed that long ago. In the older way, churches would have the first interview with several candidates, selecting a smaller number to come and visit "face to face". Church consultant Bill Wilson notes that the economic savings to church search committees is tremendous. "The old days of loading up the mini-van and driving around the country to hear preachers doesn't happen, unless you choose to ignore the obvious sort of resources available to you." (SOURCE: Recent Skype interview with EthicsDaily.com, available via: http://vimeo.com/57164816).
With new tech tools at their disposal, churches are now moving toward a hybrid "first interview" where the first impression is via Skype or similar platforms. It's up to the candidate to think through more than just the way we sound. Being at ease "on camera" makes a lasting impression. Ill prepared candidates may find the first search committee interview is the last interview!
Some resources to help you understand the planning needs for Skype interviews:
A video with specifics
discussed on creating a “backdrop”:
http://content.time.com/time/video/player/0,32068,46937715001_1933401,00.html
The full interview with Bill Wilson on search committees:
http://vimeo.com/57164816
For the resources available to ABCNYS churches for Regional Enhancement (aka "pastoral search and call support), contact Rev. Jerrod Hugenot, Associate Executive Minister at 518/380-4510. More information is online via:
http://www.abc-nys.org/who-we-are/regional-enhancement-team/ret-resources
The full interview with Bill Wilson on search committees:
http://vimeo.com/57164816
For the resources available to ABCNYS churches for Regional Enhancement (aka "pastoral search and call support), contact Rev. Jerrod Hugenot, Associate Executive Minister at 518/380-4510. More information is online via:
http://www.abc-nys.org/who-we-are/regional-enhancement-team/ret-resources
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