Monday Morning Quarterback

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a weekly post reviewing Sunday, the busiest, most stressful, most gratifying day in the week of a pastor/parent/spouse/citizen

Song of The Day:

http://rd.io/x/QEq_K0LNvqc

6:00. Up. Snoozing is for suckers.

6:02. Hobble down the stairs, the pinky toes on both feet aching from having clipped them, alternately, barefoot, on the same chair leg the day before. Had to put the chair down.

6:41. Put the finishing (and beginning) touches on the Junior High Youth Group outline for that afternoon, and email it to volunteers, assigning the easiest parts to myself.

6:42. Breakfast of bran flakes with fiber pellets on top of shredded wheat. Whinney.

7:14. Decide against the turquoise blue tie I picked out the night before. That’s a more confident man’s tie.

8:07. Stop at the grocery store to pick up snacks for the high school Sunday school class, because the teacher who normally gets them texted yesterday that she’s sick.

8:10. Mini bran muffins and rice milk in my cart, confident this is cook kid food these days.

8:59. The other Sunday school teacher arrives, and he’s carting a box of donuts. Yeah, cool. Whatever. Those muffins were for decoration anyway.

9:22. Snap a picture from the back of the adult Sunday school class as the speaker explains, “I’ve often thought that the greatest moment in my career was writing that speech for Martin.” Measuring my life’s accomplishments in light of the awareness that “Martin” is Martin Luther King, Jr., I die a little inside and slink out the back door.

9:41. Stroll past the the church’s newly emerging coffee klatch of parents milling outside the Godly Play room. “Hey guys. I see you’re drinking some coffee. Some java. Heyyy. Drinkin’ coffeeeee.”

10:06. Giggle with the visiting Rabbi during worship announcements about the time, two years ago, when he brought a Megilah scroll to show the children and I assisted him by unrolling it so far as to nearly break it. Realize he’s not giggling.

10:08. Acolyte struggling to light the middle chancel candle. Heroically leap from my seat between the visiting Rabbi and Head Pastor, striding towards the struggling child to bring light into the wo—-oh, wait. It’s lit. I’m just gonna sit down now. I’m sure nobody noticed.

10:16. As it is our annual exchange Sunday with the local synagogue, pronounce, “The peace of GOD be with you” to a congregation conditioned to receive “The peace of Christ.” Mentally rehearse my explanation for this while I shake peoples’ hands.

10:19. Introduce the Rabbi to the children. “Children I want to introduce you to my friend Rabbi Jonathan. Uhhh, this is Rabbi Jonathan.”

10:20. Rabbi Jonathan is fumbling with the handheld microphone and the Megilah scroll he’s once again brought. Hesitate. Hesitate. Finally go to help, grabbing the microphone and holding it in front of his face like Phil Donahue.

10:46. Realize during Rabbi and Head Pastor’s sermon that this annual exchange, though sometimes clumsy, though sometimes uncomfortable and uncertain, is a good, good thing nonetheless. Wonder if anything really good is easy.

11:17. Defending the church’s openness to gays and lesbians to a church member, recalling my first job interview after seminary. The committee asked how I felt about homosexuality in the church, and I, unprepared, stuttered out some answer about The Bible not allowing it. To the committee’s great credit, they never called me back.

12:47. Lunch at a local restaurant with a new couple from church and their young daughter. Our daughters play together under the table, behind the window curtains, on top of the bar . . .

1:29. Drive home over a shrieking melody of protest from 4 year-old, who preferred to drive home with her mother.

1:43. 4 year-old still screaming, gagging on her tears.

1:56. Mommy returns with “Princess dress” from the Goodwill. Tantrum over. 4 year-old stops crying as well.

2:55. Dozing off while family watches The Rescuers Down Under, slipping into dreams of Newhart.

3:30. Head to grocery store to get youth group snacks. Forgot my wallet. Turn around.

4:44. School three consecutive junior high students in Connect Four. Can’t Touch This.

5:32. Talking to junior highers about the dangers of misrepresenting yourself online. Speak through me, St. Rushkoff

7:08. A member of the Indonesian church with which we share space hurriedly invites high school youth to join in a memorial service reception meal in the Fellowship Hall. I go. Shake a few hands, decline numerous offers of food, explaining about the youth group meeting, then leave, confident that I’ve just set relations between our churches back several steps.

8:11. Students planning for next week’s Souper Bowl of Caring. They want to perform a parody soup song in church. They’re considering “99 Bowls of Soup on The Wall,” “Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six Hundred Soups,” and, my personal favorite, “Aye, Aye, Aye, Aye! Yo Quiero Sopa!” Adult volunteer’s suggestion of “Gizpacho, Gizpacho Man” goes politely unheeded.

9:39. Gleefully reading Matt Schultz’s blog post on the outrage that is Commercial Dad.

10:14. 4 year-old is still awake, crying now for the stuffed animal she left in the car (see video above).

10:21. Return to bed with stuffed animal. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Monday Morning Quarterback

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a weekly post reviewing Sunday, the busiest, most stressful, most gratifying day in the week of a pastor/parent/spouse/citizen

Song of The Day:

http://rd.io/x/QEq_K9BrFQ

3:04. Awake. Why?

3:30. Still awake. Why not? Spouse is awake too, and coughing. She’s watching American Idol. Conclude to take 4 year-old to church with me in the morning.

6:00. Alarm sounds. Snooze.

6:20. Alarm sounds again. Snooze again.

6:40. Alarm sounds a third time. Up, cursing the notion that the snooze alarm set at 20 minute increments instead of 10 makes for more a more rested awakening.

7:12. Spouse shuffles downstairs and asks if I can take 4 year-old to church with me. I’m way ahead of ya.

7:56. 4 year-old, eager to get to church and “help” me get ready, opts for a granola bar in the car for her breakfast. Happy for her churchy zeal, I acquiesce.

8:26. 4 year-old gives her stamp of approval to my plan for Children’s Time.

9:17. Play the “I Have A Dream Speech” for the high school Sunday School class, using my new portable bluetooth speaker.

9:43. Impressed with high school students’ recognition that, with respect to race in America, there’s still much work to do. For the Tickler File: a youth-led interracial worship service.

10:17. Trying not to appear desperate, race to the back of the sanctuary during the Passing of The Peace to greet a new family with a teenager. High five the Parish Associate on the way back to the chancel.

10:20. Children’s Time=Martin Luther King, Jr. + Moses + Ordination of Elders and Deacons=blank stares. Forgive me, Nancy Lammers Gross.

11:18. Community Life Team meeting in my office. 4 year-old and her playmate are pressing their faces against office sliding glass door. Grateful for her playmate’s dad, who is tracking their movements across the church while I’m in here.

11:41. Playmate’s dad interrupts meeting with an offer to take 4 year-old home for an afternoon play date. Yes please. Grateful, grateful, grateful.

12:53. Stop at the grocery store to get spouse some ice cream and lemons.

1:06. Hit Panera to get spouse French Onion Soup.

1:43. Lay down for rare Sunday afternoon nap.

1:47. Up. Who sleeps on Sunday afternoons anyway? Off to grocery store.

2:39. Grocery Store encounter with long-absent church member. Pause in the conversation, and I decline to ask the question we both know I want to ask. In a second, she’s gone. Alternately curse and congratulate myself for that bit of . . . restraint.

4:47. Digital media conversation with junior high students. Stunned by their accounts of teachers using cell phones and playing video games during class. Can this be true?

5:44. Playing Wii Just Dance to Nicki Minaj with junior high students. Impressed with their moves. Decide that this is not the time to teach them Safety Dance.

8:36. Cross the line in my impression of another youth leader.

8:38. High school student crosses the line in his impression of . . . me. I don’t whine like that!

8:48. Youth group game over. Have to be convinced by the other adult leader to skip the second game in favor of Bible study.

8:50. Commence 10 minute Bible study. Worst youth leader ever.

9:17. Stop at pharmacy to get Therflu for spouse. The flu medicine shelf resembles the Wal Mart electronics aisle on Black Friday. Only store brand flu remedy available. Yep, it’s flu season.

9:58. Go to bed.

10:12. Out of bed, warming leftovers and watching archive of AFC Championship game.

Monday Morning Quarterback

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a weekly post reviewing Sunday, the busiest, most stressful, most gratifying day in the week of a pastor/parent/spouse/citizen

Song of the day:

6:13. Get out of ~~bed~~ couch as house guest opens the front door, thunking it against the latched security chain and cursing, on his way to Starbucks to finish the morning’s sermon (house guest is also the guest preacher for the day). Threaten to beat him senseless (house guest is also a close personal friend).

6:15. Fire up the computer to the cold reminder that the Broncos blew their playoff game the day before. Wonder: if losing in the divisional round is all the same, wasn’t it more fun with Tebow?

6:17. Decide I’m over football.

6:57. Put the finishing touches on the youth group outlines for later in the afternoon. High school outline consists only of “Check In (possibly by student),” “Game,” “Bible.” Oddly, calm.

7:33. House guest returns and we leave for church, I in a snazzy purple shirt and tie I got for Christmas. Also, my new tie pin.

8:12. Return home with house guest to retrieve his preaching robe. Carry it to the car like Mr. Bates. Insist on the correct pronunciation of “Valet” for the rest of the day.

9:04. Introduce house guest to adult Sunday School class, listing all of his credentials except his 13 year tenure as a church pastor. Next time . . .

9:13. Watch house guest lead class on the inclusion of LGBTQ people in the church. Savor the sudden realization that all is well: my friend is doing God’s work out in the open without fear.

9:48. Joke with Head of Staff that house guest packed three white stoles and needs help choosing one. She puts on hers, a white-with-green-patterned one she got in Jerusalem. Joke: “Good choice. Surely [house guest] doesn’t have one like that.”

9:52. Advise house guest to wear the white-with-red-patterned stole he got in Jerusalem.

9:58. Insist that the acolytes wear white cinctures instead of the green they’ve donned. For Heaven’s sake, it’s Baptism of The Lord.

10:16. Enlist house guest in Children’s Time, sliding baptismal font halfway across the chancel like an old couch. Tell kids we do “some things” with the font, then correct myself, “Well, we really only do one thing with it.” Decide to push it a step further: “youth group games notwithstanding.” Stop. Just stop.

10:42. Listen to house guest bring the Word.

12:34. Finish lunch as another football game is finishing. Note that earlier decision to be over football was foolish.

1:38. Text from student: “if someone were to throw the baptismal font and accidentally break it…how much would it cost to replace?” Resolve to can joking during Children’s Time. Delighted, though, that students were there and paying attention.

3:01. Bid goodbye to house guest. Make plan to stew in sadness for the rest of the afternoon.

3:30. Get to work on jar salads. Allow 4 year-old to assemble two of them (mom will get those ones). Vegetables chopped, dressing made, and 10 salads done in an hour. Clean up not so much.

4:43. Discover I’ve come to jr. high youth group without my lesson plan. Deputize staff volunteer to lead youth group.

4:53. Students share uniformly that their favorite thing about church is youth group and their least favorite thing about church is worship. Wonder what to do about that.

5:22. Marvel at the commitment and skill of youth group volunteers.

7:18. High School student announces, “It’s not littering if you don’t throw it!” Must write that down.

8:41. Lead lectio divina with Isaiah 43. Glory. Precious. Honor.

9:23. Back home, put 4 year-old in bed to loud protestations, listen to her scream for 37 minutes before falling asleep.

10:12. Decide I’m over football.

Monday Morning Quarterback

Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a weekly post reviewing Sunday, the busiest, most stressful, most gratifying day in the week of a pastor/parent/spouse/citizen

Song of the day:

6:00. Out of bed to look over the order of worship for the first time all week and put some thoughts together for Time with The Children. Instead, spend the time commenting on Landon’s blog. Brewed the last of the Klatch Roasters Flavored Christmas Blend. Christmas 2013 come soon!

9:00. Respond to Jr. High student’s suggestion of a “Nerf war” at youth group with, “Sure, sounds good.” Consider it worth entertaining overt gun violence for the sake of student leadership.

9:15. Sit in with the high school Sunday School class to learn that my presence makes the volunteer teacher nervous. Spend the rest of the day wondering if my newly shaved head transforms me into a menacing spectacle.

10:17. Introduce the guest musician during Time with The Children without warning him. He looks up from his last minute preparations flustered, obviously happy to be here.

10:36. Curse myself for giving away my worship bulletin to the acolyte. We’re singing off the inserts, music the guest musician has written himself. He notices my hands are empty and he lifts his hands from the keys to retrieve a song sheet from his Bible, peering over his glasses and offering it to me. Shuffle over to the piano. Retrieve it. “Thanks.” Tuck tail back under robe.

10:43. Nudge Parish Associate towards the piano to retrieve the next song sheet we don’t have. I had my turn.

10:52. Offer communion. “The cup of salvation.” The cup of salvation.” “The cup of salvation.” “The cup of salvation.” “The pup is dalmation.” “The cup of salvation.”

11:43. Family grocery store run. Wife peels away to get a B-12 shot. That’s a thing, right? Shots in the grocery store? Sure. Okay. I’ll get some peas.

1:27. Assemble four jar salads from ingredients wife has carefully selected, chopped, and arranged in a grid on the kitchen table. Woman of Valor!

2:17. Recline on the couch, dishes to clean yet, droopy-eyed, and mutter into a pink Disney Princess walkie-talkie: “This is daddy. Need a nap. Over.” Four year-old obliges, coming downstairs to retrieve the radio from my fake sleeping chest and covering me with a blanket. Burst with delight.

2:35. Text high school students about youth group: “I’m cool. Please think I’m cool. Please come to youth group tonight so I don’t feel like a useless stooge. Ha ha.” Or something like that.

4:53. Dive into the Digital Literacy and Citizenship lesson with junior high students. Screaming, yelling, arguing, dog-piling (translation=good lesson). And this video:

5:41. Cut junior high student leader loose to orchestrate his Nerf war. 17 minutes of set-up followed by three minutes of the war. Good activity. See you guys next week.

7:08. Atone for jar salads with two slices of pizza, six cookies, and a Coke. Youth group food will kill me.

7:34. Catch my breath. Riotous laughter with high school students and adult leaders. Note in the moment gratitude for this community of 10 or so people who genuinely like each other and who have only come together since September. Wonder how this happened.

8:41. Attempt to lead students in Lectio Divina reading of Isaiah 60. Watching one student sleep, open-mouthed, reclined on a couch through the whole exercise. Not watching the time. Parent arrives for pick up during last reading. Resolve to replace batteries in youth room wall clock.

9:02. Adult leader pats my shoulder and says, “That was good” on his way out the door. Esteem tank, full.

9:17. Cajole gas station attendant into turning on the air compressor for free. No cajoling needed; she’s happy to do it. People are basically good and kind. Squint at tire print for max PSI. Can’t see it. Use phone as light. Use phone to look it up. Dummy.

9:34. Watch highlights from day’s football games, recalling the days when I could actually watch them. Note prior self-pity over this arrangement mostly gone. Mostly.

Monday Morning Quarterback, Senior High Edition

Our High School Youth Group has a new motto:

Follow Jesus or Die.

It emerged from our study of Mark 8:34-36, where I asked them to paraphrase what Jesus is saying. One of our adult leaders offered “Follow Jesus or Die,” and for the rest of the night the phrase was a mantra. I’m not encouraging it, but I’ll give it it’s own legs and see where it goes.

In a telling contrast to the junior high students who thought “deny yourself” meant to do something you’re not supposed to do, the high school students get this. In fact, our study followed an enneagram panel, where four 9’s were given hypothetical situations and asked to respond to them. It gave us an opportunity to talk about self-denial in the interest of peace and group cohesion, since that’s something 9’s are prone to. Healthy 9’s, these authors suggest, learn that self-assertion is not aggression. They begin to stand up for themselves rather than deferring to everyone else as a way to effect the peace they long for.

Would Jesus have us sublimate all of our wants and desires to those of others in every situation? Is it ever okay to assert your will?

One student reported that Jesus’ exhortation to self-denial made her think about her own quest for jazz band supremacy in a new light.

Then someone shouted, “Follow Jesus or Die!”

I’ll take it.

(BTW, thanks to Danielle and Eddie for the enneagram idea)

Monday Morning Quarterback, Session Edition

Something clicked for me at the session meeting last night: much of the ministry at our church is being carried out by highly-committed teams that have only emerged in the last year or so. The commission/committee apparatus is not carrying all of the missional water at our church anymore. A few examples.

Four members of our church have attended a week-long training called Clean Water U to learn how to install a water purification system in communities without clean water. This is part of a presbytery mission initiative in Ayacucho, Peru, and by the end of November, all four of those folks will have been to Peru at least once. Neither of the pastors have been yet.
A stable of almost 10 Godly Play teachers has been leading the Sunday morning children’s program since January. Not only do these teachers lead independently each week, they can often be seen in the Godly Play room during the week practicing for their lessons, and they come to quarterly “confabs,” where they practice upcoming stories and troubleshoot classroom management issues.
A steady group of youth ministry volunteers come each week to help run Sunday School and youth group programming. They also meet regularly to discern the shape of the church’s youth ministry, to plan, and to pray. Five adults went on last summer’s work trip, a sweltering week in south Louisiana.

Each of these teams is supported or overseen in some way by an existing commission. But none of these ministries would be doing the good work they’re doing if the existing business structures of the church were asked to create them. Instead, staff and commission leaders have tried to lay the groundwork and create the conditions where teams of volunteers can emerge to do very specific things in ministry.

The word “do” there is important. These folks are given serious responsibility to lead and make things happen. The word “specific” is also critical. Godly Play teachers may be a bit wary, for example, at the amount of work involved in that role, but it’s clearly communicated, and they’re confident “others tasks as assigned” won’t just pop up.

This observation is reminding me of a distinction between committees, teams, and communities highlighted in an article by George Bullard (and related by Joseph Myers in his book The Search to Belong—reviewed by Pomomusings way back in 2003!). Some quotes from that article:

Committees tend to be elected or appointed in keeping with the bylaws, policies, or polity of congregations. Teams are recruited or drafted to work on a specific task or set of tasks. Communities are voluntarily connected in search of genuine and meaningful experiences.

Committees focus on making decisions or setting policies. Teams focus on maturing to the point that they become high task performance groups. Communities add qualitative relationships, meaning, and experiences to the organizations, organisms, or movements to which they are connected

Committees focus on making decisions that are lasting and manage the resources of the congregation efficiently at the best price. Teams focus on debating the strengths and weaknesses of the various choices to complete a task, and typically end up with the highest quality product or outcome. Communities dialogue, engage in discernment activities, and arrive at the best solutions for a particular opportunity or challenge.

Our church has grown a nice little crop of teams. I don’t agree with the title of Bullard’s article, that we need to “skip teams” so that we can “embrace communities” (nor do I think we can “abandon committees” without doing serious damage). I would suspect that in a healthy church organization, all three of those structures are employed to their best ends: committees make decisions and give ongoing oversight, teams effectively carry out important work, and communities connect people to the bigger picture. No one of those instruments is better than the others, per se, only better-suited for the particular thing it’s being employed to do.

I love seeing the teams emerging at our church. Some of them function in some very community-like ways, and all of them benefit from competent committee structures behind them. That seems healthy to me.

Monday Morning Quarterback, Presbytery Edition

Last night, at a called meeting, the Presbytery of San Gabriel adopted a Gracious Dismissal policy. This policy lays out the process that will be followed if one of our member churches ever seeks dismissal to another Reformed denomination. It was drafted at the urging of the 218th General Assembly that presbyteries create such policies in order to demonstrate how they will exercise their constitutional responsibility to “divide, dismiss, or dissolve congregations in consultation with their members.”

A few bullet points about the policy we adopted:

It’s a theological document. It sees gracious witness in times of conflict as a missional imperative for congregations and presbyteries alike.
It dislikes litigation. The process described seeks to avoid lawsuits over church property and expresses a commitment on the part of the presbytery to not react punitively towards churches seeking dismissal from the denomination
It’s a process. When a church seeks dismissal, a presbytery team is assembled to meet with the leadership and the congregation and first seek reconciliation; the congregation elects a special committee to negotiate terms of dismissal with that team, attending to all relevant property issues; those negotiated terms are presented to the congregation at a called meeting for a vote; a 75% or greater vote on the part of the congregation is “validated” by a vote of the presbytery at a stated meeting.

There were several amendments proposed to the policy, all of which made it better in my view and most of which were defeated. An amendment was proposed to strike a clause citing I Corinthians 6:1-11, as in, when churches take each other to court they “violate” said scripture. It was defeated. A subsequent amendment was proposed to truncate the last three verses of that citation, leaving off references to the “Fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, sodomites, thieves, the greedy, drunkards, revilers, robbers” who won’t inherit the Kingdom of God. It was defeated. An amendment was proposed to add a paragraph guaranteeing a forum for a loyalist minority of whatever size to press its claim to the presbytery that it has the resources and vision to soldier on as a PC(USA) congregation. It was defeated.

Arguments against the policy seemed to be based on an a priori opposition to congregations leaving the PC (USA). I too oppose such situations, but my experience has been that when congregations and their leaders get up a head of steam to do that, it’s much better to have some process in place for the presbytery to respond than to have nothing at all. Whether it’s an Administrative Commission or a non-litigation policy, you’d better have something, because the orchestrations of dismissal typically plunge presbyteries into unchartered waters where the lack of a navigation plan can cause great harm.

I voted for this policy. There are things about it I don’t like, but I think that, for where we are, it’s a serviceable document. I can live with it because, for all of its aversion towards litigation, it does not restrict the right of the presbytery to seek that in a particular case if it deems it necessary.

Thanks to those who worked hard on it, and pray, God, we don’t actually have to use it.

Monday Morning Quarterback, Junior High Edition

When youth groups end on Sunday night my brain is buzzing with critique of what we did and, sometimes, awe at things that happened. It often takes me a few hours to go to bed. So this Sunday night, I’m composing my first “Monday Morning Quarterback” to share with y’all my sense of what went down with our Sunday youth groups and to hear some of your thoughts about it.

For our second week of youth group, there were five 7th or 8th grade students present. That’s five out of nine junior high students on the whole church roster. Three of these students are 7th graders, meaning they’re new to our youth programs. I’m pleased those students have decided the youth programs are worth a shot, but I’m more interested in making it an experience they wish to repeat over the course of the year.

One thing that may help in that pursuit is the Indonesian church that has been meeting in our building on Sunday afternoons since we started youth group. That church is enjoying its fellowship time right next to the youth room at precisely the same time that our students are arriving, and those folks have showered our students with hospitality by urging them to share in the food that has been prepared for their fellowship. So the new church meeting in our building is sharing table fellowship with our students who have grown up in these rooms and corridors; it seems to be a very cool Kingdom of God type thing that is happening.

As for the rest of the time, I continue to structure youth gatherings (and most everything else I have responsibility for) around Moving Beyond Icebreakers: a name exercise, a warmup question, a springboard activity, the work, and a summation. For youth groups, the springboard activity is typically a game, and tonight I caved to the popular demand for Grog (see No. 4 on this list). After the extended meal, the game took us almost to the end of our youth group time, so the work (a quick study of Jesus’ saying about taking up one’s cross) got badly truncated.

Two things I noticed. The warmup question was simply a high point/low point review of the previous week, and the things that count as high points are vastly different for different students. Two boys talked about things they accomplished in the previous week, while another talked about a gift he received, another about a sleepover with a friend, and the fifth about a Friday afternoon spend wrapped in a Snuggie atop a body pillow playing video games.

Also, phrases like “take up your cross” and “deny yourself” have no meaning to a junior high student, and it’s very, very difficult to explain them. Students thought “deny yourself” meant to do things you know you shouldn’t do. This seems to me to be a demonstration of formal operational thinking struggling to emerge.

Part of the difficulty is my own desire to protect students from a normative description of Christian faith as suffering, so expositions of “take up your cross” like the video below don’t fit the bill. Also, that’s not the norm set by the congregation they live in; the saints of our church are not martyrs. We may need a nudge in that direction, but the point is that our students don’t experience a community of Christians who equate a phrase like “take up your cross” with burden-bearing.

In the end, I suggested that “deny yourself” means going without something so that someone else could benefit. I’m only now realizing the missed opportunity to point to the Indonesian church’s treatment of us as a concrete example of, among other things, self-denial.

Kids started leaving, so I said we’d get into this further next week.

Any suggestions as to how to do that?