The economic news in Dayton, Ohio, isn’t good.
Long a manufacturing hub, the city has acutely felt the national financial woes. One in 10 workers are unemployed, and job loss is among the highest in the state.
But leave it to the Episcopal churches there to find a silver lining.
For the past 2 ½ years, the wardens of the Dayton area have met quarterly. Note: the clergy meet for clericus gatherings as well. That’s pretty common. But what is unusual is the lay leadership committing to regular meetings to find creative ways to collaborate during these troubling times.
Herb beckoned for my husband to come to the bus door.
My daughter found this book for me, Herb said. It is really amazing. I’m learning all kinds of new things.
Have you ever seen a book like this?
The words “Holy Scripture” scrolled across the hardcover. The book had seen some use, with nicks at the corners and a few dog-eared pages. On the inside flap was a publishing date from the early 1930s. It was part of the Episcopal Church's Teaching Series.
What’s your dream?
I spent the past 2 ½ days dreaming with the board of Forward Movement, an organization dedicated to reinvigorating the church. We did board things like approve the financial report and talk about policies, but we also spent a good chunk of this meeting imagining how the 76-year-old agency might serve the Church.
Under the helm of the new executive director, the Rev. Scott Gunn, the organization is exploring new ways of helping form disciples, from its bread-and-butter business of daily devotionals and tracts to multi-media content and creative partnerships in and beyond the church. Being invited to brainstorm – in a safe place where no answer is wrong and no suggestion undoable – unleashed innovative ideas and boundless enthusiasm. While many of our dreams may never reach fruition (an Episcopal-like Words for Friends game, anyone?), some of these ideas will come to life. And, through the Holy Spirit, perhaps they’ll play a role in transforming the church – and people’s lives.
Roscoe opens his hand to reveal the pair of earrings.
The tarnished hoops look small in his calloused hands.
I found these in one of the trash bags I was sorting through, he tells me. I cleaned ‘em up real good for you.
I take this widow’s mite and thank him.
For me, church was always done a certain way: Until I began going to a new church.
For the first 40+ years of my life, taking communion meant walking to the front of the church – when prompted by the usher – and kneeling at the altar rail. This was my normal. It was a private act between God and me.
Imagine my surprise – and discomfort – when I began worshiping at St. John’s Chapel on the Episcopal Divinity School campus and discovered that their ‘normal’ was inviting the congregation to gather around the altar for communion.
I love how God flips our expectations upside down.
Sixty years separate the two couples. The first couple is in their 90s, the husband dapper in a tie and white slacks, whose likeness to Bob Barker always requires a double take. He steadies his wife as she climbs the three steps to the altar rail. She steadies him right back when he rises from kneeling.
The other couple just started coming to church in the past few months. She’s a bit shy but bright. Her husband teaches English and wears the Three Stooges down his tie. Their son is nearly 2 and so busy, eager to explore.
The older couple has faithfully attended the Episcopal church for nearly a century. On this Sunday morning, they carry in Tupperware containers of cheese spread and fruit, crackers and cookies.
I was ready to boycott ABC.
The news struck me hard. The network was cancelling All My Children.
How could they? What did they mean that ratings were down? What about all the people who recorded the show, or watched it on SoapNet or the Internet?
How could they pull the plug on Erica Kane?
They could and they did. On Friday, September 23, the last episode of All My Children aired on ABC. And, I’m not boycotting ABC. What changed? What does the cancelation of a soap opera have to do with church?
We should send a thank you letter to Netflix.
After all, the company is providing a great example of what happens when there’s no communication plan.
To catch you up: Basically Netflix, a mail-order DVD rental company, made huge changes in what it offered to customers – asking for more money and delivering less – without a thoughtful communication plan.
Faced with declining resources, denominational judicatories -- and parishes – could take some lessons from Netflix’ public fall and half-hearted mea culpa, dubbed by the Washington Post as the “World’s Worst Apology Letter.”
Four months. It seems to be the right interval. Is there anything biblical about this number? Nope. Anything magical or theoretical? No. Arrived at by trial and error, it’s just the timeframe that emerged for planning my life these days. I can handle four months chunks.
Here’s the deal: I’m in transition. Thankfully my job is stable and fulfilling, but so much else is shifting: home life, interests, church community, social networks…. It started a few years ago. I’m at that part in a change process some call the “liminal” phase. My term for it: the messy middle.
The biblical analogy is the wilderness, when Moses and the Israelites wandered after the exodus from slavery yet before they reached the promised land. I and others on this website have written about transition before (see this article and end note resource by William Bridges about the biblical analogy). But the topic of change, and how we live through it, is so important I’m not shy about raising it again. If change isn’t happening to you now, it will be at some point. And it’s not just a mental exercise about planning for or “managing” change. It’s emotional and spiritual work, too.
Last week I found myself in a “messy middle” episode, beset with frustration, anger, and disappointment. While I would rather deny these unpleasant emotions, they kept rearing their heads. What was I frustrated about? I was sick of change, and unable to figure out how to get what I wanted, or even know what I wanted. Acting like a psalmist, I lamented: how long will this last, O God?! Where is Your help?!
You bore me.
That’s the conclusion of a UCC pastor in her superb, pointed commentary.
I’m not normally a Facebook re-poster, but her blog was so compelling that I thought it was worth sharing. Who knew that it would ignite?
Friends and acquaintances from various points on my personal timeline chimed in. Some lauded the author: Preach it, sister. But others took her to task, calling her snarky and judgmental.
It’s not loaves and fishes. But considering that some Episcopalians regard coffee hour as the eighth sacrament, this is close.
An entrepreneur, Jonathan Stark wasn’t planning an experiment about the kindness of strangers. He was exploring “broadcast mobile currency—how to transfer money or pay for goods with your phone. He wondered if he could share his Starbucks account just by sharing the image.” (Check out the whole story here)
He loaded $30 on his Starbucks card and posted the image online to see if friends could use it. The idea was that they would download the image, take it to Starbucks and see if they could purchase their favorite grande beverage using their mobile phone. It worked – and within a few hours, Stark reloaded the card.
Here comes the fascinating part: this time, it didn’t run out. As word spread on the Internet, more and more people downloaded the image and used it as currency at Starbucks. But instead of draining the card, about half of the people voluntarily reloaded it – put more money on it so that others could use it as well.
Earlier this month, more than $3,500 passed through the card in just 48 hours.
The website, www.good.is, talked with Stark.
“As Stark points out, it's "kind of silly to give people who can afford an iPhone a free $5 coffee," but this can lead to something better. "I would like to see something like this around a CVS pharmacy to share money... [something that lets people] donate in an ad hoc way instead of going through large organizations" to help seniors or even fellow pet owners pay for necessities, he suggests.”
How can we translate this experience of a benevolent social contract into our churches? And what are the implications of this for direct ministry in our communities? Could we launch a drugstore card that allows people to help in paying for prescriptions or a Wal-Mart card for back-to-school supplies?
This is such an exciting concept to me -- let’s brainstorm together! Share your ideas here.
Bring on the routine.
In 12 days, the kids begin school for the fall, and our family settles into a regular schedule. Homework, dinner, a little TV. Piano practice, art lessons and for the first time, maybe karate.
I say maybe, because the nearest karate class in our small town is offered on Wednesdays – the same day as our Saints Alive dinner and formation programs. If we don’t sign up for this class, it means a drive of 25 minutes to the next town.
Scheduling our lives around our priorities isn’t easy. Even for me, a priest’s spouse and a church employee, sometimes I consider convenience over obligation.
I think this is one of the great challenges facing our churches: How do we get people back into the routine? How do we compete with soccer practices and drama club – and karate lessons?
Part of it requires a willingness to put God first. Why should learning how to tackle or launch a crisp spiral throw take precedent over an evening of fellowship and Scripture? We know in our hearts that it shouldn’t, but it’s easy even for those of us committed to the church to relegate Bible study or weekday worship to last on the list. After all, God will understand. Right?
I think it becomes our responsibility to model priorities – to keep sacred our Sunday mornings, Wednesday nights – or whatever time your congregation gathers. This may require sacrifice and inconvenience but it’s a witness to our community that faith matters.
At the same time, I’m cognizant that not everyone can or will make the same decisions. And that’s where we also need to be flexible and creative. A church in my diocese will offer WEBible classes this fall, an online Bible study. They’re using WebEx, which allows for video, audio and shared documents or screens, so the class will be interactive while giving people the option to participate at home, on the road or at the church building. Our diaconal program, now shared between three dioceses, will also use the system. Their weekly formation gatherings will be virtual, with in-person meetings throughout the year.
How is your congregation managing the balance of routine and flexibility? In what ways are you modeling priorities -- and how are you developing programs that accommodate the frenzy of fall schedules? Share your creative solutions here.
I’ll read them after checking on the kids’ progress waxing the mini-van. If they can’t take karate lessons, pointers from The Karate Kid will have to do. Wax on. Wax off.
Discernment is like dating.
Those early butterflies. Conversation that burrows a little deeper with each chat, by turns both exuberant and awkward. The not knowing how much to reveal: I like you. I want to serve here. I want to move forward together. The anxious moments between each meeting (and transition process steps). Will this work? Is there chemistry? Is this what God is calling me to – or is it just what I want?
In my life, I’ve been through a number of transitions – both dating and job-wise. I’ve learned a little each time.
Every diocesan office, every church staff has some superstars.
They are creative thinkers – and doers – with boundless optimism and energy. Their job is a ministry, a calling, and they pour both their ability and heart into the work. And it shows.
But, I wonder, how often do we praise this good work? Or do we more often let it pass without comment?
In an article in Newsweek about winning strategies, Jack and Suzy Welch make the point that too often organizations and leaders focus their attention on the bottom third, troubled employees who are having a hard time meeting expectations. The middle are left to flounder, without encouragement or mentoring that might enable them to rise to the top. And the superstars? Well, eventually, they “become disaffected and leave seeking more appreciation, either in the soul or the wallet, or both,” according to the article.
When we survey ECF Vital Practices readers about the topic they’ve needed the most help or guidance in during the past six months, “change” is regularly near the top of the list. The word ‘change’ shows up again when we ask folks to tell us what area they’re most interested in learning more about.
But what exactly do we mean by the word ‘change’?
Within the Episcopal Church, I regularly hear us talking about “fear of change” and that our congregations need to “change their mindsets.” I’ve heard individuals call themselves “change agents”, and the most effective of these leaders will push and pull their congregations with “change processes” in mind. More recently I’ve heard people discussing “theory of change” and how every congregation holds core beliefs about how they are changing the world.
For my blog post today, I’ve written a few notes on three of the ways I’m hearing people talk about change. I hope to write about “change processes” and “change theory” in a future post. That said, I’m more interested in hearing your thoughts on this topic. How is your congregation talking about (or refusing to talk about) change?
To print or not to print.
That is the question facing many dioceses and congregations as they consider how to cut costs but maintain connection with members.
Print costs money – paper, copying, and postage. And the Internet is free (essentially). So, say the money-crunchers, it’s an easy swap. Stop printing a newsletter and start sending out all of your information online.
Behold, all of your budget woes will be solved. Right?
Well, not so fast.
We’re definitely moving – and quickly – to an all-digital age. We hold computers in the palm of our hands with access to the world (or at least the world wide web). In congregational development circles, including this one, the mantra is to get online, 'like' Facebook, 'connect' on Linked In, 'tweet' on Twitter. And I agree, those are all important tools and any well-rounded communication plan needs to explore the full range of web opportunities.
But I still believe that we’re in a both/and world.
I tested this theory recently with a communications survey through my diocese’s Constant Contact electronic newsletter. (So, yes, my sample was biased from the beginning – these were folks who, after all, already were connected by e-mail, used to receiving regular updates about diocesan events and announcements). I sent the note to nearly 5,000 subscribers. About 1,000 opened the e-mail (20 percent – industry average). But the click-thru rate went through the roof – more than 350 people responded to the survey! (Industry average: 3 to 5 percent versus my robust 33 percent).
Based on the response, I learned several things.
First, clearly people were hungry to offer input.
They also offered clear direction about what they wanted and didn’t want in a communications strategy on the diocesan level.
The air conditioner repair guys were lazy.
They took the shortest distance to install the exhaust pipes – straight from the basement to the outside wall, right beside the entrance.
Don’t be alarmed: this is being fixed. Today. The National Historic Register and the people of the parish wouldn’t have it any other way.
But still, I think there’s some interesting commentary about how we clean up our messes in the church. Do we take the easy way out – avoiding conflict or perhaps more often, letting off steam in the sidewalk or parking lot conversations? Or are we willing to do the much more difficult work of rooting out the problem, talking with each other, and finding some solutions that may require sacrifice?
The parishioner just couldn’t accept the word “mass.”
In a long, terse letter to the rector, he decried the use of the term Mass. It’s a worship service, he said. We’re not Roman Catholic. We shouldn’t be using their terminology. "Service" is more specific and reflects the Protestant aspect of our Anglican tradition.
It came out of left field.
We were in hour two of a three-hour softball game for 9-10 year old girls. After a spring of flash flooding and rain-outs, the weather turned to summer overnight, and our shirts were sticky with sweat. My daughter walked up to the plate.
In the next instant, I was thumped. My shoulder felt like someone took a baseball bat to it. I was half-right. While we were watching the softball game, a power hitter in the next field slugged a baseball over the fence and into my shoulder. I didn’t even hear the heads-up warning until the ball bounced off me and onto the metal bleachers.
No, no, I’m fine, I shrugged. Really, I’m OK, I told the bystanders, all the while knowing I was tettering on the edge of body-wracking sobs, the baseball adding to what already had been a grueling and anxious week.
A domain name is pretty much like a tattoo. Once you get one, you better plan on keeping it for life.
Otherwise, prepare yourself for some pain.
I speak from experience. Several years ago, I received an email asking why the diocesan youth website was promoting adult-oriented, online dating.
I didn’t know until then that the youth minister had decided to launch a new site with a new url. He decided not to renew the old address and planned to promote the new one in all of the materials.