Council Minutes

The last two days have been given to the peer review of synod minutes. A synod, in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), is the third more inclusive geographic council. The councils begin at the local congregation (session); expanding to include all the congregations in a larger geographic region (presbytery); expanding to include all the presbyteries in a multi-state geographic region (synod); expanding to include all the presbyteries and synods on a national  level. Under the auspice of a “general administrative review,” each more inclusive council reviews the actions of the lesser inclusive councils. This is a means of ensuring the lesser inclusive council is doing things “decently and in order.”

That all seems to be a very dry and boring task. In some instances, it is. Sometimes the review seems to focus on straining at gnats and swallowing camels. Jots and tittles, sometimes, seem more important that the general flow of life and faith. Sometimes, it seems form is far more important than content. Sometimes, it seems the review is more looking for “gotchas” than encouraging.

However, the minutes of the various church councils are important because they are a continuation of the Acts of the Apostles. Council minutes not only are to accurately record the proceedings of each council meeting, the council minutes record how each council is carrying forward God’s salvific mission in that geographic area. If all which was recorded in the Acts of the Apostles is that the council met in Jerusalem, it was moved, seconded and passed to approve a mission to the gentiles, we would know very little about the spread of the Gospel.

Instead, what we have is a very lively account of the early decades of the Church. We are told, of the Council in Jerusalem, who attended, what the presenting issues were, how decisions were made and carried forward. We are told, “There was no small debate among them.” I love the understatement there. What was being proposed was a radical change for the Church. If, how and under what circumstances could gentiles be accepted into the Church were the primary questions to be answered. I imagine, from the understatement about the debate, it was an extended and heated debate. Even after the decision was reached, there were those who actively opposed it.

There were those who argued that those of the Way were a branch of Judaism and “followers of the Way” must adhere to all the rites and rituals of Judaism. On the other hand, there were those who clearly saw and experienced the movement of God’s Spirit among gentiles and who argued they should not be expected to subject themselves to practices and customs of Judaism to be included in the Church. A compromise decision was reached and gentiles could be included in the Church. Following that, we have the various accounts of the spread of the Gospel.

Minutes of our councils are, but are far more, than a record of the actions of each particular council. Council minutes continue to tell the story of God’s action with and through the Church. The review of council minutes provides a consistent form for the record of the council, and provides the continuing narrative of the Church seeking to be faithful to God’s mission. I only wish there were a way to lift up the content over the form in the peer reviews.

How Much IS Enough

This past Sunday, I worshipped at one of the more affluent congregations in a presbytery near where I live. I attend their “contemporary” Two weeks ago I worshipped with the same congregation in their “traditional” service. Two weeks ago, it was a very snowy morning; I was struck by the low worship attendance, compared to what I expected. Last Sunday, the room was packed. Usually, the seating is arranged for about 120 people. The two services are held simultaneously. The traditional service in the traditional worship area, and the contemporary service in a repurposed gym and fellowship area. The pastor told me that some folks go to the service where he is preaching.

What struck me most about last Sunday’s service was the gutsiness of the pastor. His primary verse of focus was Matthew 6:24. You cannot serve God and wealth. Remember, this is an affluent congregation in a very affluent suburb. The pastor did point out, Scripture does not say “money is the root of all evil,” but it says, “The love of money is the root of all evil.” (1 Timothy 6:10). Still in all, the sermon was bound to have seriously challenged the core of the life on many of the worshippers.

The pastor did not bludgeon the worshippers with the text. He did not point to their lavish lifestyles, opulent homes or the number of Mercedes and Cadillacs in the parking lots. (Something which was obvious to me when I parked my 2008 Pontiac G6 by a very well appointed Mercedes.

The pastor’s challenge to the worshippers was around what we do with our wealth. He pointed to the recent edition of Forbes magazine which listed the wealthiest billionaires in the world. (A decade or two ago, Forbes listed the millionaires.) What does one do with a billion dollars? How many homes, cars, yachts is enough. He point to J. D. Rockefeller, who when asked how much would be enough money, who replied, “Just a little more.”

It caused me to ask that question of myself. I have to admit, we live in a better house than I ever imagined us living in. We have greater financial flexibility than I ever imagined us having. Yes, I want to enjoy a few things in these later years which we couldn’t in earlier years. Yes, I want to leave some resources to our children and grand-children. I do, however, have to ask, “How much is enough, and what am I doing with our wealth to improve the lives of others?”

That is a question we all have to ask and answer.

Caution, Toxic Area

I just read a report about a nuclear waste dump in the area of the presbytery in which I served for 23 years. A company had established a nuclear materials facility in a flood plain and was not all that careful about the residue from their work. Some years ago the Army Corps of engineers began a toxic cleanup of the site. Over 100 truckloads of soil were hauled away to a dumping site out of the flood plain. Suddenly the cleanup stopped with the discovery of plutonium and uranium that the Corps was ill-equipped to handle. Since that time nothing more has been done with the cleanup. The dumpsite where the truckloads of material were hauled is surrounded with a tall metal fence with concertina wire atop it. At one point, military guards were stationed at the entrance with lethal firepower.

In my experience, there are some congregations which have become irreparably toxic. At some point in the past something happened. Years of effort to clean-up the mess have only removed some of the more superficial toxic residue. Perhaps the damage came in the form of sexual or fiscal misconduct within the congregation. Maybe the damage was done as the result of a congregational split. Regardless of the reason for the toxicity, in spite of rigorous efforts to remove the toxic memories, the life of the congregation has been so poisoned a thorough clean-up is impossible.

In the story of the nuclear site and the dump site, those in the town and surrounding area are fearful of the nuclear material getting into the food supply of gardeners and farmers. They are fearful further efforts to remove the even more dangerous materials might cause the materials to become air borne. This does not even begin to address how many others downstream have been or may be effected by the nuclear materials leeching into the water supply. Yet, there has been and is no mass exodus of residents. Most remain and try to carry on with their daily lives.

In toxic congregations some members hang on and hang on praying for the day a new cleanup effort might be successful. All the while, the presbytery, conference, or diocese has stopped cleanup efforts when discovering the extent of the toxicity and stuff they are ill-prepared to handle. At times members from the toxic congregation do move to a new congregation totally unaware they carry some of the toxin with them. The toxin has entered their emotional and spiritual DNA. The new congregation welcomes them with open arms. At some point in the future the toxin begins to replicate itself in the new congregation. A congregation of little conflict becomes a congregation of high conflict as members from the toxic congregation begin to react to situations or people which remind them of what happened or what might happen.

Dealing with toxic congregations is as perplexing as dealing with nuclear sites and dumps. I know of one toxic congregation which a presbytery closed, after years of trying to guide the congregation to being a nuclear free zone, and after four pastors all left within the third year of their service in the midst of high conflict. Maybe all we can do is to encase the toxicity, surround the site with high fences with concertina wire, and warn away future members and pastors.

I have no answers for this one. I have seen it in small and larger congregations; in city, suburban and rural congregations; in highly educated and barely literate congregations. There are no instant means of removing the toxicity of a nuclear site, nor of a congregation.

What Does It Mean to "Represent?"

We live in an era of what I call radical democratization, the off-spring of radical individualization. In our civic life, we expect those we have elected to make decisions which only reflect the will of the electorate or of their special interest group. If the NRA has contributed to the election of a legislator that “representative” is expected to vote in accord with the NRA. It is too bad we have perverted the true idea of a democratic republic. Preeminent in a democratic republic is not the will of the electorate, but what is best for the city, state, or country. Rather than judging the performance of a “representative” on the basis of have they acted in my/our best interest, but have they acted in the best interest of the whole. It is possible the best interest of the whole will not reflect what I think is in my personal or group’s best interest.

Our errant civic understanding of what it means to be a representative gets carried into the church. This runs through every level of the councils of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). At the local church it is expected that elders will “represent” the interest of a particular constituency (women, youth, seniors, contemporary worshippers or traditionalist and the list goes on). The same holds true as one moves through the more inclusive councils.

In a few short months the General Assembly will meet. The gathering of commissioners, at its best, is a deliberative and discerning council. In plenary there are too many items for the commissioners to enter into extensive deliberation and discernment. The majority of deliberation and discernment takes place in the committees which then make recommendations to the plenary for vote. On the floor of the plenary, the pros and cons around the particular recommendation are presented in a two or three minute sound bite appeals. When all is said and done the actions of the Assembly will be judged on how those decisions square with “my” particular perspective. We may decry, “They sure don’t represent ME, I’m out of here to join with others who think like I do.”

As members of this particular portion of the Church we have an official corrective to the common understanding of who the elders (teaching and ruling) are to “represent.” In the Foundational section of the Book of Order we find, Presbyters are not simply to reflect the will of the people, but rather to seek together to find and represent the will of Christ. (F-3.0204) This does not mean the elders completely ignore the ways and thoughts of those who elected them or of their special interest group. That voice is a piece of the data which goes into the voting of the commissioners, but it is not the only basis for making a decision. If Moses had made decisions solely on the basis of what the people wanted, he would have turned around, gone back to Egypt, and recommitted to the life of slavery under the task masters, making bricks without straw.

When the elders gather, whether as a session, presbytery, synod or General Assembly, they are to seek together to find and represent the will of Christ. That is a far weightier responsibility. We should expect the gathered elders to represent the will of Christ rather than our particular will. When their decisions do not match up with our wants, desires or expectations, we should ask, “How is Christ speaking to the church, the world and ME in the decisions which conflict with my personal perspective?”

We do not hold the decisions of the church councils as infallible. Now though it will easily be admitted that all synods and councils may err, through the frailty inseparable from humanity, yet there is much greater danger from the usurped claim of making laws than from the right of judging upon laws already made, and common to all who profess the gospel, although this right, as necessity requires in the present state, be lodged with fallible men. (F-3.0107) It is therefore, possible that a future council may consider the same issue and reach a different, if not opposite decision than previous gatherings of the councils.

In our civic and ecclesiastical life, we must drill down to the radical meaning of who and what those we elect are to “represent.”

Heavy Is the Head Which Wears the Crown

Many years ago, when I was a pastor of a congregation in the Greater St. Louis Area, I was blessed to have a mentor/coach/friend who was willing to listen to my belly-aching about frustrations in the pastorate. Yet, often I heard his refrain, “Heavy is the head which wears the crown.” The actual quote comes from Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part 2, Act 3, Scene 1. Feeling the burden of leadership, the king bemoans, How many thousand of my poorest subjects are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, . . . Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

There is a significant burden in being a leader. This is true for parents, pastors, and presidents. Yes, there were times when I lost sleep as a pastor. I lost more nights to sleeplessness when serving as an executive presbyter. I cannot begin to imagine how many sleepless nights presidents of our nation have lost to that burden of responsibility. In the book Executive Orders, President Jack Ryan asks lead Secret Service Agent Andrea Price who she talks to for advice and counsel. She responds, You know, they told me at Quantico, at Basic Officers’ School, that command could be lonely. Boy, they weren’t kidding. They really weren’t kidding. . ..There’s always supposed to be somebody smarter than you. The person you go to when you’re not sure. Now, they come to me. I’m not smart enough for that. (Executive Orders, Tom Clancy, G.P. Putman’s Sons, 1996, pg. 278)

There are times when we as ministers become trapped into having all the answers. The trap can be self-sprung thinking since we are seminary trained we are to have all the answers. The trap can be set and sprung by congregational expectations. Believing we are to have all the answers or being expected to have all the answers leads to sleepless night with an uneasy head. How do we avoid that trap?

In the early 1970s the Presbyterian church school senior high material, Christian Faith and Action, pointed to the necessity of maintaining a “comic perspective” about life and self. It is important for us not to take ourselves too seriously. Not only are we not to believe we have all the answer, we DO NOT have all the answers. It is perfectly acceptable to say, “I don’t know.” It is far better to say that then to make up or give an errant answer.

What about the expectations for congregational members that we will have all the answers? As we maintain a honest comic perspective about our self, we are able to help congregational members loosen up on their expectations of us. We can admit we do not know and offer two options. We can volunteer to try to find the answer. We can enlist them in joining us to find the answer, if there is one.

There are many burdens in being a pastor which can cause sleepless nights. Thinking we have to have all the answers does not need to be one of those burdens.

Are We Willing To Take a Risk?

I have been thinking about the parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14-30. We know the householder had distributed a certain amount of money to each of three servants. To one he gave ten talents (minas), to another five and to a third one. It is recorded that upon his return he was very pleased that the two with the greater amount of talents when they doubled the amount they had been given. It is recorded that he was greatly displeased with the one who carefully protected the one talent and simply returned it to the householder.

As I read this parable, I am seeing it as two were risk takers and the one avoided risk. “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.” (Mt 25:24-25 NRSV) He was afraid of taking a risk.

I wonder what the reaction of the householder would have been if the one with ten talents had lost the ten talents in a venture capital investment? “Master, for many years I have watched and studied your investment practices. Using your methodology, I saw this opportunity as a possible way of not only doubling the talents you entrusted to me; having investigated this opportunity as thoroughly as possible, it seemed you could have realized a tenfold return. The day after I made the investment the stock shot up like a stone hurled from a sling. After a month it plateaued. Then the value dropped like a rock.  I am sorry to report the project failed and I lost your ten talents.”

Would the householder have had the servant flogged and thrown out into the street? Would he have demanded restitution? (A talent was worth about thirteen years wages for a servant.) Would he have praised the servant for the willingness to run the risk, even knowing how harsh the householder was? We know no risk, hiding the talent in the ground, produced no reward. But what if there is a big risk which produces no return?

What is the balance in our ministry between no risk and no reward and high risk with the possibility of either a great reward or losing everything? As I look around, I see the church and those who serve it as becoming more and more risk adverse. We feel we are in a desperate situation seeing our survival slipping away. All the data tells us we are decreasing in numbers and in financial resources. We cringe at the thought of the church councils making any decision which might upset those in the pews.

Our willingness to take a risk depends on how we answer the question of how the householder would have responded to the servant who lost the ten talents. Are we willing to take the risk, or are we like the servant who was afraid and hid the talent in the ground? Avoiding risk did not work very well for that servant.

Have we become idolatrous in fearing for our survival? Have we elevated survival above faithfulness? In the Foundational section of the Book of Order (PCUSA) we read, The Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.
(F-1.0301) Do we believe the words of penned by Daniel Towner in 1886, “Trust and obey, For there’s no other way To be happy in Jesus, But to trust and obey?”
(http://www.hymnal.net/hymn.php/h/582#ixzz2lOTR8mQr) 

Maslow tells us survival is the base in the hierarchy of needs. Fear for our survival makes us very risk adverse. The first question and answer to the Heidelberg Catechism carries the same encouragement as does Roman 14:7-8, We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live in the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

 
So, in answer to the question, “What would have been the householder’s reaction to the loss of the ten talents by the servant willing to take a huge risk on behalf of the householder?,” I believe the willingness to take a risk would have been rewarded. What do you think?

What Is the Next Move?



As the screen shot above reveals, I was idly playing solitaire and it dawned on me that in life and in ministry each move dictates options for future moves. This is true in chess, checkers, baseball, football, or any other human endeavor including ministry.

In the game above there are multiple choices for the next move. Do you move the ten of hearts to the jack? The four of hearts to the five? The seven of hearts to the eight? As is clear, there are many options. Some options cut off the possibility of a future move. Others open multiple options. Hidden from our sight are the cards which are face down. Those cards are very much like the unknown responses or reactions of others involved in the congregation.

One of the things I discovered, in other games, is staring at the screen often blinds us to moves which are right there. Looking away and coming back to the screen suddenly the move is clearly there. “Why didn’t I see that before?”

As I reflect upon ministry, there are many times when the present move sets up a whole series of subsequent moves. Many times the moves may be made without thought or regard for what would be opened or closed as a result of that move. In retrospect, I wish I had taken just a bit more time to consider how the present move would dictate the next move or bring an end to the “game.”

I cannot help but ask, “How would my ministry be different if I would have taken the time to consider what the consequences a potential move might influence possible future moves?