The importance of place

We are working on our parish mission statement. I pointed out at a recent vestry meeting that the current version, and the drafts we are working on are disembodied, general, not particular. When we have conversations about Grace’s mission, inevitably we talk about our location, on the Capitol Square of Madison, but our location hasn’t been articulated as part of our mission. The sense of place we have has not been clearly defined for ourselves and others.

Jeremiah Sierra had a brief reflection today that addresses the “sense of place.” He talks about his sense of sacred space, memories of the scent of his church in childhood, and the nomadic existence of the church he now attends, which meets in a Zen Center in Brooklyn. He concludes:

It’s useful for every community to periodically reflect on its relationship to its place (and not simply by asking whether it is time for another capital campaign): What kind of space best serves your community? Can you use your building to nurture other worthwhile organizations? Could your community survive without its building? How is your community welcoming others into its sanctuary or parish hall?

 

Read it all here.

Craig Bartholomew has some similar things to say is working on a theology of place. Here’s an interview with him.

Among his comments:

What we are experiencing in our world is a wide sense of displacement, which does not lead to human flourishing. Outside Christian circles, the literature on the crisis of place is huge, but within Christianity, it’s only starting to get attention.

Contemporary life roots against this deep implacement through the speed of culture, technology, the automobile, and the state of economics. The middle class is always on the go through places and are not generally deeply rooted in a particular place.

 

And this:

The diagnosis is that we have lost a robust doctrine of creation. Place is rooted in the doctrine of creation. If we recover that doctrine of creation and see the wonderful redemption in Christ as God recovering his purposes for his whole creation, then suddenly all these issues—like city, home, gardening, and farming—are spiritual and thus not second-rate.

Of the several hundred thousand churches in the United States, many are property owners. Just imagine if each of these churches attended closely to their property as a place and develop it in healthy—not necessarily expensive—ways. This would make a major contribution to the commons of our culture and bear plausible witness to Christ. Just as the creation constantly declares God’s goodness and power (Psalm 19), so too our places would continually bear witness to this extraordinary God who has come to us in Christ.

Bartholomew connects the importance of place to the doctrine of creation. But it’s also a matter of the Incarnation. How do we incarnate the body of Christ in this particular place, at this time? One of the important challenges to Christianity in the present context is the rise of social media and technology which can create virtual community across wide distances. Yet ours is an embodied faith, an embodied religion, and there must be a way to express our faith concretely, and to experience the sacraments in their materiality.

Thinking clearly about the budget: What questions should we be asking?

Crusty Old Dean has offered his careful analysis of the Episcopal Church budget, pointing out those areas where funding is being slashed, like youth and young adult ministries, and those areas where, in spite of the deep decline in anticipated revenues, spending will increase. The Curate’s Desk is even more succinct in pointing out these areas.

Crusty Old Dean has also observed that this is a budget that restructures the church in some fundamental ways, whether or not there has been a conversation about that restructuring. Power is being focused more totally in the central offices (should we begin to call it the Politburo?). He also points out a deeply flawed process.

But where do we go? The budget narrative claims that certain fundamental questions have been asked including, “what ministries and programs are done more effectively on the provincial, diocesan or local level, rather than on the national level?” As I tried to point out with my example of the General Ordination Exams, the idea that assessment of ordinands is done more effectively on the diocesan rather than the national level is patently absurd. I could imagine a very different way of administering GOES making better use of technology, but that each diocese should come up with its own process is ludicrous.

So what questions should we be asking? First and foremost should be, what is the purpose of a national denominational structure? Does it exist to create a central bureaucratic repository for certain administrative functions? Should it exist to provide, develop, and express a coherent denominational strategy for mission and ministry and provide resources for carrying out that ministry and mission? Does it exist for itself, or does it exist for the dioceses, congregations, and people who make up the church, and those people whom we are trying to reach with the good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ?

Perhaps the answers to these questions are clear. There are certain canonical requirements that seem to demand a central office–can we imagine an Episcopal Church without a Book of Common Prayer or parochial reports? Certain functions might best be done on a national level: Episcopal News Service and other communications efforts come to mind. But what about the rest? Apparently some people can imagine an Episcopal Church without youth, young adult or campus ministries.

I think we’ve got to tackle the central problem head-on. We are a hierarchical church in a culture and world that is rapidly flattening out. Precious resources are bled from local congregations to dioceses and ultimately to the national church. There’s a tacit assumption that this is the way things ought to work–largely because they’ve worked that way for much of the last century. But in a culture in which people are relating very differently to one another and to institutions than they did fifty or a hundred years ago, and a culture where the importance of religion in general continues to decline, we need to change radically.

Our national church structures are based on a hierarchical model, no matter how much we protest that they are democratic. The problem is not just that we have bishops. We are a church based in a particular model of how a church relates to society. Unfortunately, that society has changed almost beyond recognition in the last half-century. We need to reconceive ourselves and our church to adapt to a post-Christian, post-Constantinian era. We need to give up our power and privilege at the center of the nation (including, symbolically perhaps, 815), give up the power and wealth that accrues from periphery to center, and embrace a different model of being God’s people in the world.

In the end, the problem with the budget is that it pays lip-service to restructuring and to this new world in which we live, but in fact it is fundamentally shaped by that old model and worldview and seems to assume that doing things in pretty much the same way (in fact, throwing proportionally more money than before toward the centers of power in New York and Washington) will serve us well for the next three years). If this is the budget that is passed at GC this summer, I may well get on the bandwagon of those who propose motions at diocesan convention not to fund the 19% asking by the national church.

Take up your cross–A sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent, Year B

March 4, 2012

The news recently has been full of stories about the intersection of religion and politics. There’s been all the talk about Mitt Romney and debate whether a Latter Day Saint can be president. There’s been Rick Santorum and his criticism of JFK’s famous speech. We’ve heard the Roman Catholic bishops complaining about the implications of healthcare reform for their faith, and their claims that their religious freedom is being violated. We thought the presidential election was going to be about the economy, and it turns out after all, that it’s going to be another front in the culture wars. Continue reading

Mission, Ministry, Restructuring, and Budgets–The disfunctional Episcopal Church

We’ve been debating restructuring in the Episcopal Church for some time now. As General Convention approaches, things are livening up. Yesterday, the proposed budget for the 2012-215 triennium was released. It’s shocking because of the priorities it sets, the lack of transparency, and the lack of conversation about where the church should focus its energies. Information about the budget is here. Tom Ferguson’s passionate, thoughtful, and provocative take is here.

I don’t have the expertise, time, or inclination to read the budget as carefully as Tom has, but I’m not sure it isn’t a deliberate in-your-face to all those of us who have been advocating a thorough restructuring. There’s more money for the Presiding Bishop’s office, more money for the General Convention office, more money for the Chief Operating Officer’s office. Meanwhile, funding for formation, youth, and young adults, is slashed. These things, the budget documents say, can better be done on the diocesan, provincial, or local levels. Perhaps. As Tom points out, if the national church can do anything, it can provide resources that are of use throughout the church, rather than forcing us on the diocesan or even parish level to come up with our own.

The misguided nature of the budgeters’ thinking is even more obvious in other places. There will be no funding for General Ordination Exams. This, too, the budget suggests can be better done on a local level. This is absurd. I suspect we will have one or two candidates for ordination in the Diocese of Milwaukee. How much time and energy, how many hours will be taken up in 1) trying to figure out how to assess candidates’ competencies in the canonical areas, and 2) actually doing the assessing? How much time and energy, therefore will be diverted away from ministry and mission on the local level in order to do the assessment that will have to be done in every other diocese across the church? It’s nonsensical!

But let’s increase funding for the Washington office so the Episcopal Church can do more advocacy. Why isn’t it more appropriate for such activities to take place on the local level? Or for our interests to be expressed by our ecumenical partners? Does every denomination need a Washington office?

Can we have a conversation about where the national church should focus its efforts, which efforts are more appropriate for dioceses or parishes (spare me the whole idea of provinces), and yes, about restructuring? Why don’t the central offices–Presiding Bishop, General Convention, COO, begin by decreasing their budgets by the percentage decrease in total income. Let’s talk about mission and ministry priorities only after they’ve done that.

 

The Sign of Jonah, Biblical Archaeology, and Lent

I came across an article broadcasting the latest “amazing find” in biblical archaeology–a report of the discovery of an ossuary with an image of a whale spewing something out, and an inscription suggesting something about revelation. The story of the discovery is actually quite interesting, involving a tomb that was first excavated in 1981, then sealed up because of a building constructed on top of it. Using a high definition camera, archaeologists were able in recent years to explore the tomb and make pictures of its contents. Images of the tomb are available here. I’m not qualified to comment on either the archaeology or the inscriptions, but if you want to know how scholars are reacting, the blog at the American Society of Oriental Research is the place to explore. Needless to say, they’re skeptical. And frankly, to me the image doesn’t much look like a whale or fish.

I’m more interested in the coincidence. Yesterday was Wednesday in the First Week of Lent and the daily eucharistic readings focused on the “Sign of Jonah.” We heard Jonah 3:1-10, the story of Jonah’s proclamation and Nineveh’s repentance, and Luke 12:29-32, Luke’s version of Jesus saying concerning the “sign of Jonah.”

For Luke, the sign of Jonah has nothing to do with his survival for three days in the belly of a whale, which was how Matthew used it and explains why Jonah became a popular iconographic image in early Christianity. Instead, what Luke cares about is the power of Jonah’s proclamation, and the response of Nineveh, both human and beast. Jesus contrasts that response with the response to his own preaching.

Lent invites us into repentance, but I’m not sure how comfortable we are with that idea in the twenty-first century. But if we think about it in somewhat other terms, as an opportunity or invitation to experience God’s power to change our lives (change your mind is the Greek root of “Repent”), we might be more receptive. What burdens do we carry with us? What habits, attitudes, past experiences and actions continue to weigh us down and prevent our full experience of the love of Christ?

Jesus used the “sign of Jonah” to point out the amazing power of the good news. Can we see in that message good news that can change our lives just as powerfully?