Note: Monday Morning Quarterback is a recurring post that examines personal and pastoral events of Sunday.
Today’s topic: improvisation.
One of the valuable contributions being made by NEXT Church is a push towards spontaneity and improvisation in worship. Mainline churches have relied heavily on printed orders of worship that clearly instruct worshipers in every move of a service, especially since the liturgical renewal movement of the 1960’s. That serves a critical hospitality function, as anyone who can read is able to follow printed prompts and join in printed responses.
But voices like Ashley Goff are pushing churches to drop the scripts and pick up some improv skills. To sit for 60 minutes listening passively or joining in now and again in precisely predetermined ways feels more and more out of joint for contemporary people. How, the question goes, can churches expect to incorporate the gifts of men and women who, Monday through Saturday, are blogging and DIYing their way through more and more of life when what we offer them is an hour long seminar or hymn sing?
It’s a complicated question, and there’s lots of nuance to be added, but I’m persuaded that the move to improv and spontaneity is the right one. So yesterday I tried some things. I asked for a raising of hands during the sermon. I tried the “Yes, Let’s” benediction again. But that’s not much. I still felt like I was doing a lot of one-way talking.
So here’s my question: if you’re a church leader, what are some of your favorite ways of “imrov”ing in worship? If you go to a church, what kind of balance do you expect between what the service dictates for you vs. what you’re invited to contribute of your own? And if church isn’t your thing, then what is the most invigorating kind of collective activity you participate in, and what makes it that way?
I don’t know how my most popular blog posts relate to my best ones. That’s for others to say. My most viewed posts in 2013 were “This Hurts” and “As Though We Are Being Saved.” Both of those posts were about ECO and the continuing decline of the Presbyterian Church (USA), a fact that suggests that, if yorocko.com has anything of value to offer, it’s personal commentary on those two issues. I hope that’s true. Also, those posts came out of the worst stretch of days I experienced all year (frankly, they felt a little whiney). I’m not sure what to make of their popularity.
As for the best, I’m comfortable saying that the best thing that happened in this space last year was Monday Morning Quarterback. It didn’t get done every week, but when it did it generated fun conversations and got read by people I wouldn’t have predicted. It started as an experiment in January and continued (off and on) through December. I’m happy about that.
Some things that didn’t work out this year. There was an experiment to write a post each week featuring new music releases that never generated any interest. I realized after about a month that I don’t particularly like reading about music; why should anyone else?
Also, my ambition to blog through several books in 2013 didn’t get past Mihee Kim Kort’s “Making Paper Cranes.” I guess I lack the discipline to stick to regular posts on the same book. I’m not giving up, though, because my experience blogging this book and this book were so much fun. Maybe I’ll capture something in 2014.
As for the next 12 months, I’m not sure what’s in store. Maybe I’ll focus more on writing about the PC(USA) and ECO. Maybe Monday Morning Quarterback has run its course. Maybe “yorocko” is too adolescent a title.
I value the conversation and thank you whole-heartedly for reading and sharing. Happy New Year!
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.
6:49. Shouts of “Stop it!” from upstairs. The kitten is awake and terrorizing Daughter.
7:16. Taking the time, on this busiest of days during this most hectic of weeks, to remember to spirit of the season by reading Rany’s latest blog post about the Royals recent off season moves.
7:49. Daughter singing to Wife: “Wake u-up/Wake u-up/I want to see your eyeballs.”
8:20. In the office with my scarf still on ’cause it’s cold. Head of Staff spies the scarf and calls me “Dickensian.” What? Oh, I thought you said . . .
8:31. Glancing at the schedule for the week and realizing a MAJOR conflict. Duuuuuuude!
8:33. Head of Staff has prepared slips of paper with angel quotes on them for people to take during worship this morning and reflect on throughout the week. She’s eager to show me the one from Acts 12 that says, “Get up quickly. Fasten your belt and put on your sandals. Wrap your cloak around you and follow me.” Whoever gets that one is going to have some figuring out to do.
8:51. Walk past Deacon and his young son moving presents into the sanctuary for the morning’s Adopt-A-Family dedication. Joke with the boy with hands outstretched, “Oh you shouldn’t have.” Boy’s father retorts, “No, you haven’t been good enough this year.” Nervous chuckle. What does he know?
8:53. Urging Children’s Director to warn the morning’s Children’s Time leader to keep it short. Last time he spoke in worship a Pastor had to cut him off: “I love you, but you gotta stop.”
9:29. Using this clip to make the case for George Bailey as Joseph. Nodody buying it.
10:08. Sanctuary is full of red sweaters and little kids with garland halos. Pageant day!
10:17. Children’s Time guy commits cardinal Children’s Time sin by opening with Q&A. Noooo!
10:22. After a touching and succinct story, Children’s Time ends with Advent candle lighting. It’s still and lovely.
10:29. Pageant time! Director waking he arms and gritting her teeth to get 9 tiny angels to move.
10:30. Pageant is called “Calling All Angels.” Train? What are the odds?!
10:31. “We are!/Singing Angels!/Angels!” Yes. Yes you are.
10:38. There’s one angel not singing but sticking out her tongue. Daughter!
10:43. Angels bowing and losing their halos.
10:48. Worshipers coming forward to get their angel quotes. Daughter selects one for the family. “Get up quickly. Fasten your belt and put on your sandals. Wrap your cloak around you and follow me.” Oh man.
11:19. On the patio after worship. Church member telling me she read Landon’s and my music posts last week. “How cute!” she says. Cute? Cute?!
11:39. Somebody brought blonde brownies with coconut and chocolate chips. Eat three of them in as many seconds.
12:11. Playdate. Warning Daughter and Playmate as we walk in the front door: “Do not open this door. The cat will get out. Do you understand? Do not open this door.” Yes. Yes, we understand.
12:14. Door opened. Cat out.
12:23. Making up some Mac N’ Cheese, ’cause it’s what the girls asked for and I aim only to please.
12:47. Girls turning up their noses and the Mac N’ Cheese. The cheese is white.
1:16. Check Facebook to find that no fewer than three people have already posted pictures of the morning’s pageant. Consider how odd that would seem to someone even five years ago.
1:49. Daughter and Playmate fighting outside. Neighbors intervening. Uh oh.
2:18. Neighbor’s box of Speculoos cookies rapidly disappearing as the girls fill their cheeks.
2:39. Cat escapes for a third time.
3:35. 26 people have arrived for our annual caroling outing. Lots of kids, including Daughter, Playmate, and Playmate’s playmate. I predict triangulation drama.
4:05. During “Hark The Herald” in the retirement home, Daughter uses plastic candy cane as a prop to imitate an old person. Want to get away.
4:28. Carrying Daughter. How predictable was this?
7:08. Students arriving for high school youth group. I got no plan here.
7:19. Explaining a white elephant gift exchange to German exchange student. His smile broadens as the description progresses.
7:41. Game of Things prompt, “Things that make you giggle.” Scribble “Nipples,” then decide against it.
7:42. “Things that make you giggle” answers include among them “goat nipples.” Of course! Adding an animal in front of it makes it totally appropriate. Students rolling on the floor.
7:51. Trying to get a 9th grader to stop saying, “Damn it!”
8:45. Asserting my religious authority: “Okay, one more game, but we’re praying before we leave!”
9:01. Students scatter without praying. #pastorfail #anymonkeycoulddothis
9:12. Dropping student off at home, suggesting to him an inverse relationship between the number of a person’s dating partners and that person’s self-confidence.
9:33. Home. Consider typing up Monday Morning Quarterback. Decide to go to bed instead.
Before you begin, click play on the above playlist.
Twice this week I’ve attracted a worried, sympathetic gaze from a stranger, once while getting my mail and once while sitting at a traffic light. The cause was the same both times: Landon. Dude, I look like a dummy these days, and it’s all your fault. I can’t get “Brave” out of my head, and I can’t stop myself from dancing like the people in that video.
Landon and I are featuring one another’s favorite music of the year. We’ve swapped curated playlists of our favorite songs and the names of our top albums, and we’re taking turns this week presenting those in this space with comment. Hence my repeated listening to “Brave” (and “Settle Down” and “6AM”) and the inevitable public dancing, which, as you may have guessed, is the cause of my public humiliation.
I’m less capable as a cultural critic, so I won’t suggest a worldview. I will, though, suggest a World Experience–that is, what listening to Landon’s 2013 music picks will do to your life. Once you get comfortable in your own skin, you’re gonna like it. I’ve been doing it for a week now. It’s nice.
The Playlist
In the past seven days Last.fm tells me that I’ve listened to “Brave” 22 times, “Royals” 27 times, and “Get Lucky” 19 times (not counted are the views of the videos for these songs, which have been multiple). It’s a good life. The key is major. It’s rhythmic. There’s harmony. It won’t make you want to dance outright (excepting “Get Lucky,” of course), but you will be moving: head bobbing, feet gliding, shoulders twitching.
There was a time when I would heap scorn on that kind of indulgence. But I’m older now. November was a rough month. The songs on this playlist are a tonic from the gods.
This list isn’t without heft, though. “Two Sides of Lonely” is a throaty lament, and “Epic” has this haunting rhythm guitar part that’ll make you want do don a black turtleneck and horn-rimmed glasses. And, yeah, “Royals” is nobody’s Bibbidy-Bobbidy-Boo. Landon’s songs will hook your head and your gut at the same time.
The best word for the whole list is “anthemic.” These are big songs for big places (“City Electric”). They’re reaching in their lyrics and arrangements to be the voice of a public (notably “Most People” and “Brave”), which kind of makes the whole list feel like a life statement: we the people of this music are coming after the world with confidence, ready to think and move at the same time. Stare at us if you want.
I synced this playlist to my phone last week so I could listen to it wherever I went and just swim in it. Now we’ll see how long it takes me to get out and dry off.
The Albums
Landon claims disappointment in 2013’s crop of albums, so he’s only highlighting three. We have kind of established a three-skip rule for albums in the past, which simply states that an album can’t be all that great if there are more than three songs on it that you regularly skip. I have to believe that the three skip rule kept lots of albums on the bench here.
Here are Landon’s top three:
“Random Access Memories,” by Daft Punk
This one kind of threw me, because I never took Landon for a Daft Punk fan. I’ll only say this: if you listen to this album from beginning to end you’re getting a smorgasbord of disco guitar arrangements and electronic vocalizations (including a long stretch of spoken word) that will challenge your attention span. If you can stick with it and not just hit the fun stuff (“Lucky,” “Lose Yourself To Dance”), you have a more disciplined ear than I.
“Stories Don’t End” by Dawes
Landon could sing the songs on this album, and I’m certain that’s why he loves it. This album is super simple flannel-clad rock that veers country at times. But the soul of the album is a bearded dude with a guitar writing nuanced lyrics (“Just My Luck”) crooning to a minimal backing band. No doubt Landon listens to “Stories Don’t End” and fantasizes about playing gritty bars with the boys from Jesusfish.
“Fellow Travelers,” by Shearwater
This comes out of nowhere, and I don’t quite know what to do with it. Jonathan Meiberg’s is Shearwater’s lead singer, and he has a voice like tar. It’s heavy and engrossing, but I can only take it in short doses. Those doses hit hard, though. Like, cinder block on your windshield hard. “Fellow Travelers” is snarlin’ music. That Landon loves this suggest to me that, after 2013, he could name you five people he’d kick in the chest given the chance. Go get ’em, cowboy.
So there you have it. Landon’s favorite songs and albums of the year. What does this collection suggest to you?
And does anybody know where I can get a good deal on a space helmet? I haven’t got Landon’s Christmas present yet.
As you are aware, Rocky and I (Landon) have this little love affair going on, which consists of notifying one another of any music that enters our lives that has potential to be of great importance. I dare say that music for us is a lens through which we see the world.
SONGS
I feel confident in the above assertion, for the songs playlist that Rocky sent me was modestly titled: “2013 Live-or-Die Playlist: The 10 songs from this year I couldn’t do without.” Couldn’t do without? How’s that work? Do you just curl up in a ball and cry until the song is played? I mean, man – get a grip.
But what if that music actually IS “Live or Die”? What do these 10 songs say about our brother, Rocky? What is the world like if these are the tunes needed to sustain it? Let’s find out, shall we?
Hit play on the playlist below as you read on.
“Mother” by Said the Whale – Sometimes we’re all a little bit bad, but we want to be good. Just don’t tell our mothers ’til we’ve figured it out. Sassy indie rock, begging you to love it. And you do.
“Hey Rose” by Houndsmouth – Coming to terms with the things we want ain’t easy, but we gotta reassure the folks we leave behind that we ain’t leaving for good. Honky tonk. Honky. Tonk.
“Running Around” by Rilo Kiley– The people we leave in our wake as we go get the things we want know we’re full of crap. New-wave throwback, full of vim and vigor.
“Oil Slick” by Frightened Rabbit – Unless we’re committed to changing, whatever we give to the ones we think we love is going to hurt more than it helps. Brutally honest, gut churning Scottish Rock.
“You Can’t Save ‘Em All” by Big Harp – As a fool returns to his folly, so a dog returns to its vomit. But you don’t have to be there when they do. Lou Reed and Rufus Wainwright had a love child, and they are so proud of their honor roll student.
“Born at 5” by Bombadil – At some point, you just grow up and get your shit together. More authentic than The Lumineers. Is that possible?
“Recover” by Chvrches – Once you get your shit together, you can start imparting the lessons you learn to the world. Call it tough love. Call it boundaries. Or call it the simplicity on the other side of complexity. Electro-pop at its finest.
“Man” by Neko Case – One of the lessons you get to impart upon discovering the simple maturity of life is that loving another is the measure of who you are. Gritty, dirty, and full of punch.
“Blackout Days” by Phantogram – Regardless of how mature you become, the ghosts will come. Just shove them away. They don’t own you anymore. Dido decided to imitate Sinead O’Connor.
“Most People” by Dawes – These truths are the same for all of us. A perfect folk-rock song.
Okay, I concede. That’s “Live or Die” stuff, indeed.
ALBUMS
Now, while it’s easy to be a bit cheeky about a list of songs, a person’s love of an album is another matter altogether. More than just a collection of songs, an album is a world that one is invited to live in for a while. It is an immersive experience; a complete work.
Here are Rocky’s favorites of the year:
Heartthrob by Teagan and Sarah – If you need a thick, dense sound that transports you to 1990, this is the album you want. T&S come through again, but this isn’t the punk you’ve come to expect. There’s a maturity here that will take your breath away.
The Bones of What You Believe by Chvrches – You met Chvrches in Rocky’s song list, but the whole album is just as good. This is decidedly not my genre, but it still feels so good to listen to. A Chvrches show is one I’d pay money to attend.
From the Hills Below the City by Houndsmouth – This album makes me uncomfortable. It’s dirty and unrefined. I conjure images of the Patrick Swayze epic Roadhouse as I listen through my speakers. Beer bottles are flying, and I am loving every damn minute of it.
Pedestrian Verse by Frightened Rabbit – I love these guys so much. Their previous offerings have been some of my faves of the last few years. But the raw anger of this collection is almost more than the average bear can take. However, their track “Holy” should be required listening for any Christian boy or girl who thinks the Faith still matters. You’ll cry yourself to sleep on your huge pillow.
Stories Don’t End by Dawes – If I would have been in the same physical space as Rocky when I listened to this album, I would have kissed him for introducing me to the most refreshing music of my year. Perfect folk-rock. Not much more to say, in my opinion.
And now, I yield the remainder of my time back to the gentlemen from Claremont.
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.
6:13. Wake up. Alarm is set permissively for 7:00, since sermon wasn’t done til 2:00 am. Drifting back to sleeeeeee . . . .
6:43. Eyes open again. Forget it. I’m up.
7:14. Foregoing further sermon edits at home in favor of getting to the church, where I’ll edit from the pulpit in an empty sanctuary.
7:49. Quick-and-dirty design of a “thank you” postcard for the youth bake sale after church. On to sermon.
7:50. Children’s Director: “There’s a dead cat in the street outside. Can you come with me to see if it’s still breathing?” Me: “Sure. I love dead cats. Wait. Are you serious?”
7:52. Spot the felled feline from about 100 yards. That thing is dead, dead, dead.
7:53. Suggest to the Children’s Director that we should call animal control. Start back to the office. Stop. She asked me to come with her; I should be less of a jerkface and actually do what she asked. Kitty death march resumes.
7:55. Moment of silence. Children’s Director getting emotional. I’m still thinking of my sermon edit. What’s wrong with me?
8:12. Problem: printing quick-and-dirty postcard on cardstock. Not so quick: printer jam.
8:13. Jam extricated. Printing again. Jammed again.
8:16. After four jams, give up on the postcard in favor of getting a manuscript draft printed. Will edit by hand.
8:17. Printing sermon manuscript. Jammed again.
8:19. Head of Staff walks in to find my arm swallowed by the printer. “Um, good morning?”
8:31. Printer fight rages on. Children’s Director and Head of Staff have tagged in. Children’s Director wrapping scotch tape around the blunt end of a large plastic candy cane to try and retrieve rogue paper scrap.
8:35. Paper retrieved. Surprise! It’s not from my manuscript. It’s a shard from a mailing label last seen in 1868.
8:36. Printer still says it’s jammed. Rebooting. Stalking to office to edit on the laptop.
8:43. Manuscript finally emerges from the printer. Half of it is on the green cardstock meant for the postacard. I’ll redo it later.
8:45. Checking up on adult education class leader. She needs a DVD player. Facilities guy can’t find it. Only other option: my laptop. So much for redoing the manuscript.
8:56. Laptop threatening to install software updates while I’m fighting with to play the DVD.
9:11. Slip away from adult education class after facilitating one DVD clip. Pretty sure the laptop will restart while I’m gone.
9:19. Drop green sermon manuscript in the pulpit. The color is the most interesting thing about it.
9:28. Arranging items for youth bake sale.
9:39. Return to adult education classroom. Computer indeed restarted. Spend six minutes trying to play the second clip.
9:52. Recruiting jr. high student to acolyte and turn on graphic for sermon.
9:55. Text from high school student I recruited to lead the Children’t Time: “On my way.” Checking watch. Oh man.
10:06. Acolyte calling the congregation to worship with a full voiced “Hear the good news!” That’s what I’m talking about!
10:07. Spy my high school student during the opening hymn. Acknowledging his presence (dude rode his bike. Uphill)
10:11. Daughter belly crawling beneath the front pew. The acolyte next to me is amused.
10:18. High school student killing the Children’s Time. Beaming. I know that guy!
10:19. High school student: “My mom is a strong woman, just like I’m trying to be.” Relishing the thought of ribbing him about that later, then deciding not to.
10:21. Daughter and her playmate “sneaking” off the chancel, scooting their bottoms a foot at a time til they get to the steps. High school student unfazed.
2:23. Escaping #somlive to fold laundry. Best bad option.
3:48. Wife suggest some “Punkin’ Chunkin'” to get rid of rotting pumpkin decorations. Daughter hurling produce from atop a stepladder onto the sidewalk? What could go wrong?
5:28. Jr. high students playing “the box game,” led by adult volunteer. Students roll a dice in turn. When it lands on six, you put on a pair of gloves and try to open a wrapped present before the next person rolls a six. Easy enough.
5:29. Oh. The gloves. I get it now . . .
5:30. Student curses and hurls present across the room.
5:32. Finally roll a six.
5:34. Roll my second six. Get into that package like a beast. Win. Win. Win.
7:20. Explaining summer work trip to high school students. They’re hung up on the charter bus piece. Specifically, they’re worried about the bathroom situation on a charter bus. In the desert. In July.
7:57. Dusting off my copy of Soul Pancake for this discussion prompt: Why do we hate? Students responses are thoughtful, which is not surprising.
8:34. Volunteer proposes playing the game he just bought. Funny or Die. First thing I see is card that reads, “I’m not naturally this flexible.” This could be trouble. Ask volunteer if game is PG-13. He smirks and doesn’t answer.
8:43. Students crying with laughter at game. Dropping resistance.
9:21. Home to find tree lit. Ahhhh.
9:28. Putting Daughter’s uniform in the washer for tomorrow morning.
A couple years ago Landon and I shared our favorite songs and albums on our respective blogs (see here and here) . We didn’t do it last year, but we’re constantly texting each other music recommendations. In fact, our now defunct magazine may or may not have started as a text about Arcade Fire.
Next week Landon will pen a post here featuring five albums and 10 songs I sent him as my favorites of the year. He’ll add some commentary elucidating my obvious musical sophistication, perhaps working in a lament about his inferior facial hair. Later in the week I’ll write a post about his top music of the year in which I will make some recommendations of forthcoming albums that might finally fill the hole that N’Sync left in his heart.
For now, he’s some music we talked about a lot and really liked, but didn’t make it onto either of our year-end lists (and, yes, we’re still open to suggestions–use the comments)
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.
5:53. Awake from a dream that I was in prison and was going to stand up my mother, visiting from out of town.
6:00. Awake to the alarm.
6:02. Turning on the oven to bake the cornbread stuffing that’s been chilling in the fridge overnight. There’s a Thanksgiving-style meal after church today, and my stuffing will be the talk of the event.
6:43. Enjoying my coffee while reading this article. Painfully recalling high school.
7:12. Removing daughter’s crock pot concoction to a pie dish: lentils, potatoes, broccoli, and carrots, all congealed into an orange mash.
7:15. Daughter tastes her dish. “I don’t like it, but I want to take it to the pot luck, because other people might like it.” How can you say no to that?
7:58. Ready to walk out the door, two casserole dishes of stuffing in one hand and daughter’s mash in the other, and daughter begins to plead, “Can I come to church early with you? Pleeeeeeease?”
8:10. Daughter and stuffing in the car. Daughter is drinking prune juice, ’cause, you know . . .
8:18. Children’s Director tastes daughter’s dish and issues a gleefully muffled, “Itsh derishioush.” Grimacing.
8:23. Typing agenda for post-worship Adult Education Committee meeting. Who calls a meeting concurrent with a church meal? I do.
8:47. Printing the Junior High Youth Group lesson for this afternoon. Daughter conscientiously retrieving papers from the printer in the next room. She demands I stay put and allow her to bring them to me. Empowerment or secretary training?
8:56. Chatting with a friend who’s giving the charge at another friend’s installation later today. My advice: incorporate the word “awesome.”
9:35. I’ve got an honest-to-goodness high school Bible study going in my office. Three students and me. And Philippians.
10:00. Acolytes today are old pros. I ask if they can light the candles themselves and they roll their eyes.
10:11. Call to Confession. Daughter is in the front row. Her playmate is rebelliously climbing under the pew. Daughter is fighting the temptation to follow her by smacking herself on the head.
10:12. Silent Prayer of Confession. Daughter whispering, “Daddy. Daaaddy.” I should be irritated, but I love this.
10:16. Time with The Children. Daughter clutching my arm, then mimicking my every movement. At least she’s not picking her nose.
10:17. Explaining to children that God wants all of us and realizing how menacing (and hopelessly abstract) that sounds.
10:21. Reading Psalm 100. “He” and “His” are all over this thing. Trying hard to emphasize all the words right after each masculine pronoun: “Enter his gates with thanksgiving/and his courts with praise/Give thanks to him, bless his name.”
11:14. Looking for daughter. Church is out, her mom’s not here, and I’m running all over.
11:16. Find daughter, crying because she doesn’t know where I am. Father of The Year over here.
11:38. Planning Adult Education programming for January and February. Anyone up for a sensitive conversation about race?
12:09. Finally joining the potluck. Happy to see there’s some stuffing left.
12:11. Plate is full, but there’s a disturbance. There’s a kid in here whom none of us know. He’s crying. He asks to use someone’s phone to call his mom. Won’t tell us who his dad is.
12:17. Crying kid taken care of. Enjoying stuffing.
12:22. Second crying kid.
12:34. Seconds on the stuffing.
1:22. Home cleaning casserole and crock pot dishes.
2:39. Daughter: “Where’s my beer bottle?” What the?!
3:23. Playing Hide-And-Seek with daughter for a bit before I have to leave for youth groups. It’s the least I can do.
4:34. Junior high boys arrive and immediately begin assaulting each other with pool noodles left on the floor. Completely ignore my stern directives to S-T-O-P!
4:48. Shooting a quick video with students for next week’s premier of our Advent worship series on Christmas movies. Today’s challenge: film an illustration for the sermon featuring the line, “You’ll shoot your eye out!”
5:08. Struggling mightily to teach “Up Jenkins” to junior high students. Mostly, they’re just yelling at each other.
5:24. Finally get students calm enough to do a Bible talk.
6:06. Debriefing junior high youth group with volunteer staff. Deciding the challenge is growing the maturity of some and the immaturity tolerance of others.
7:12. Filming the high school version of the “You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out” video.
7:48. Check in tonight involves summarizing Bible stories with a Facebook status update. My favorite: “That moment when you realize your kids are hiding from you in the garden” (my entry–“That moment when you turn to see the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and get turned into a pillar of sa–” does not fare well).
8:12. Watching a clip from Despicable Me and concluding that Gru is Jesus and we are Jesus’ Minions.
8:54. Quick game of Camoflogue in the sanctuary. 9th grader’s never played before and messes up. Leaves angrily. #pastorfail.
9:36. Home and making a list of all the things I need to get done tomorrow. On my vacation.
I’m 37. I’ve been ordained for nearly a decade, and I’ve only ever known decline in my denomination. I started my seminary training the week of the September 11th attacks. The rapid, unpredictable change gripping the church and the world has been my constant companion from day one. It has neither surprised nor troubled me. I have taken change as a given in my vocation and have thought condescending thoughts toward those who lament or, worse, resist it.
Defending the status quo is not a vision for ministry.
But neither is embracing every change.
It’s becoming increasingly clear to me that our calling in times of changing patterns, mores, and norms is to discern which changes ought to be resisted and which ones embraced. To ask together: which changes promote bonds of community and which fray them? Which elevate virtue and which vice? Which compel compassion and which apathy?
Neither fighting for nor fighting against Change is a good unto itself, and the choice between the former and the latter is false. Today’s rebel is tomorrow’s bore.
I’ve written a bit in this space about Youth Ministry 3.0, Mark Oestreicher’s provocative vision for youth work published in 2008. Its description of the changes shaping youth culture compelled me early in my present call to cultivate a menu of student programs, each of which might appeal to different students in the church and community but none of which would have central importance.
Out went The Youth Group and in came youth groups–two on Sunday afternoons and two on Wednesday afternoons. Also, special events became opportunities to engage particular groups of students in ministry and not another thing The Youth Group is expected to show up for. Scheduling a youth retreat does not cancel the weekly youth group.
Specifically, I heard clearly Oestreicher’s plea for smallness:
Smallness is both a value and a practice, though the value has to precede and continue on through the practice. Smallness values community in which teenagers can be truly known and know others, rather than being one of the crowd (even if it’s a really fun crowd). Smallness champions clusters of relationships rather than a carpet-bombing approach. Smallness waits on the still, small voice of God rather than assuming what God wants to say and broadcasting it through the best sound system money can buy. Smallness prioritizes relationships over numbers, social networks over programs, uniqueness over homogeneity, and listening to God over speaking for God (emphasis mine).
Clusters of relationships. Social networks. That’s what I’ve nurtured these past four years.
Today, though, I’m looking at these clusters and feeling acutely what they’re not doing. They’re not making much of a claim on student’s passion. They’re not holding up well to the carpet-bombing approach of homework and soccer and band and debate and water polo and A.P. classes and college applications. They’re not growing student’s knowledge of the Bible. They’re not compelling commitment to the gospel of Jesus.
Maybe they’re not experiential enough. Maybe they’re not fun enough. Maybe they’re badly led.
Or maybe the splintering changes gripping young peoples’ lives today shouldn’t be accommodated by championing smallness. Maybe these are changes to resist. Maybe bigness and uniformity gave where they appeared to be taking.
Could the last four years have been embracing changes they ought to have been resisting?
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.
6:00. Awake. On the couch. For the fifth straight morning. Mom and In-Laws are in town for Daughter’s big theatrical debut and I’m rockin’ this couch like I’m in college.
6:43. Throwing together junior high youth group lesson on “friendship”: 1 measure of Proverbs+1 measure of Ruth & Naomi+2 measures of games=mediocre youth ministry.
8:21. Head of Staff arrives at church to say she’s not feeling well. Start preparing a sermon in my mind. On the Apocalypse.
8:47. Head of Staff discussing the morning with Children’s Director and I. She stops mid-sentence and swallows hard. Children’s Director and I both take one step back, to protect our shoes.
8:52. Text from wife: “Daughter still sleeping. Not coming to Sunday School.”
9:01. Adult Education leader arrives with her delightful daughter.
9:05. We have one Adult Education participant.
9:08. We have three Adult Education participants. Realize that my family’s absence has cut the attendance by more than half.
9:34. Adult Education leader throws a stack of papers all over the floor. On purpose. Why don’t I ever do cool stuff like that?
9:54. Grab unsuspecting 2nd grader to be the morning’s acolyte.
9:57. Head of Staff: “Your wife is looking for you.” Uh oh.
9:59. Wife: “Your mom is sick. She’s not coming to church.”
10:08. Acolyte struuuuuugling with the middle candle. The wick’s got bent back, and there’s no fixing it. I got this.
10:18. Daughter straight up picking her nose during the Children’s Time. Reflexively cover her face with my worship bulletin.
10:19. Children’s Time = demonstrating the superiority of singing by reciting “Hallelujah” vs. singing “Hallelujah.” Years of training, people.
10:20. Realize that I’m singing “Hallelujah” right into my lapel mic. There goes my “hidden” talent.
10:29. Head of Staff choking her way through the sermon. On standby, ready to be on vomit duty. Then begin to wonder: is she sick or emotional?
10:38. Sermon over. Whew! I work with a warrior.
11:18. Looking for Daughter in the tangled mass of patio fellowship. Find her in the Fellowship Hall directing her playmate in a number from yesterday’s play. Playmate’s a good sport, but I feel Daughter’s clipboard hurtling and swearing is a step too far.
11:29. Daughter informed it’s time to go. Wailing and gnashing of teeth.
11:44. Stop by hotel to check on sick mom. She’s dizzy and lightheaded. Decide to run to urgent care.
12:28. Urgent care waiting room is a cesspool of sick. It’s The Walking Dead in here.
1:12. Urgent care verdict: nothing irregular. Sinus congestion only.
2:04. Arrive back home just in time to enjoy a beautiful lunch laid out by wife and In-Laws: salad and cheese and bread. Relaxing a bit . . .
2:08. Music for lunch is the cat howling from it’s bathroom penitentiary.
3:07. Daughter attacks Wife with sword and shield. Wife: “No fair! I’m unarmed!”
3:08. Daughter bounds down the stairs with a second sword and shield. En guard!
3:15. It’s my turn to sword fight Daughter. Let me work in some Monty Python jokes. She’ll love those.
3:16. “None shall pass.” Daughter=stone-faced.
3:17. “‘Tis but a flesh wound!” Daughter=sticking out her tongue.
3:18. “I’ll bit your legs off!” Daughter=”Daddy, are you serious?”
4:04. Off to junior high youth group.
5:03. Youth group exercise: students share what a friend would have to do to lose their friendship. One student says, “Make me angry.”
5:12. Another youth group exercise: students create a job description to be their friend, including Qualifications and Duties. 6th grader chuckles at “Duties.”
5:15. Leading Qualifications: “cool,” “popular,” and “has money.” Oh. My. God.
6:09. Quick stop back home to pick up In-Laws and take them with me to an event I’m partially responsible for, a talk by this guy at the local Jewish temple that we’re co-sponsoring.
6:15. Leaving for event, and it’s the last Daughter will see of Grandma before the latter flies home in the morning. Daughter refusing to hug Grandma. I’m fuming.
6:52. Meeting the speaker. Resist the urge to say, “Nice to finally meet the guy who’s been calling me weekly since June.”
7:38. Audience member interrupts speaker to challenge him on a minute detail of his talk. People squirming.
8:48. Enjoying the always-excellent baked goods provided by the Temple. They put Presbyterians to shame here.
9:07. Back home. Daughter wants a snack. Sigh.
9:34. Discussing the ills of the world with In-Laws over a late microwaved dinner.
10:02. Looking for replay of Broncos’ game. It’s not up yet. Cursing professional sports and media.
10:03. Collapse on the couch. The Broncos will wait until morning.
YoRocko! 
