Here's the trouble: You have been conditioned to consume. Western society has duped you into thinking that everything in life is available for your consumption; or not.
Homo sapien (wise man) has not evolved into a more intelligent species; instead, homo sapien has (d)evolved into homo consumptor (consuming man).
The fine folks at Apple are often picked on (and I'll admit I own and love more than three of their products), but you don't have to look much further than the iPhone, iPod, and iPad to know that Apple knows intuitively that you are homo consumptor. iThis and iThat; products made for individual consumption. Marketing has become a multi-billion dollar business, providing jobs for millions. We sell things to people because people are nothing more than what they buy. Gone are the days when we traded, bartered for, or (gasp!) even produced our own stuff from the stuff God gave us.
Lest you think I am some sort of Lutheran pastor luddite, I have no problem with buying things. In fact, it's quite necessary for survival in the economy and system we live in; and I even enjoy the occasional shopping spree.
Yet, my identity is not defined by what I buy. I am not homo cosumptor. I am a human being, thank you very much. I am defined by my God, who marked me with Christ's cross in my baptism and sealed me as a child of God forever. As St. Paul writes, "I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now life in the flesh I live by faith in the son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20, NRSV).
Not only has Western society mistaken our identity as purely consumer, we have mistaken ourselves for the same. Not everything in this world is made for your consumption. In fact, everything in this world is made for your stewardship, not your consumption. You are a steward.
God has given you the gifts you are blessed with to take good care of, not simply consume. As a steward cares for the goods that his lord has given him charge over so, too, do we care for the goods our Lord has given us charge over. In the garden, God gave dominion over creation. "God blessed them, and God said to them, 'Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.' God said, 'See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food. And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food.' And it was so. God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good" (Genesis 1:28-31a, NRSV).
While there are parts of creation that are meant to be consumed, i.e. the food we eat, not everything in creation is consumed. Some, most of it, is meant to be stewarded and cared for.
We watch human beings abuse the gifts they are given in endless iterations of the same, sad patterns of consumption. Consume, consume, consume. It becomes about getting my needs met. Me, myself, and I. Soon enough, me, myself, and I have become our gods and we enshrine them in the stuff we collect, setting up altars of junk.
Junk is not the only thing we insist on consuming. Everything in our lives has become something to consume. Women are asked to dress seductively so that we can photograph them, manipulate the images, put them in a magazine or on a website, and consume them with our eyes. War and action are staged and filmed; death on the big screen, put on display to view and marvel at. Worship and bible study have been something we either 'like' or 'do not like' as if the worship we offer God were somehow better in one way or another.
The last one is the one that really bugs me lately. We think worship is something to be consumed or not. "I don't like this style of worship. This hymn isn't very good. That pastor at that church isn't the kind of pastor I like. I'm just not into that kind of thing." These are all the excuses we make to dismiss worship, as if worship were something we could consume, or not.
Worship is not about you. It's about God. And worship is a gift, meant to be stewarded by us and lead us into encountering God. Not everything is made for consumption and worship is one of those things that is made to enjoy and care for.
What would the world look like if we stopped consuming and started stewarding? I suspect we'd have a lot less abuse and a lot more care for the things God has made. We'd have a lot more people in worship not to consume, but to worship.
It's not about you. It's about God. Now get over yourself and start stewarding what God has given you!
Showing posts with label ministry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ministry. Show all posts
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Friday, November 2, 2012
"...we were together"
There is a saying around here. It's an odd one for me, one that I had never heard before this place. It's the kind of saying that makes my mind wander away from a conversation, imagining the many layers of meaning in it. (I'll admit, my mind wanders easily, anyway).
The saying goes like this, "...we were together." From what I can gather, it is a saying about friendship. But it's more than that. It is about friendship and proximity. It means something along the lines of, "we were friends and we spent a lot of time with each other."
And yet, the saying seems to be even more than simply friendship and proximity. There is a particular quality about it that is hard to put into words. "...we were together," has a sense of longing, a sense of leaning into a complex history; it has a quality to it that I don't encounter when someone says, "we were friends," or, "we used to hang out." There is a past-tense quality about the saying that seamlessly transitions into a longing for the past.
I have only heard the saying spoken by some of the older members that I visit. So this leads me to think it might be more of a generational saying than regional or cultural peculiarity (it could be a combination of all of these).
In any case, I like it. Let me give you a sense of how it sounds when it is used. "I had a very good friend in seminary; his name was Nathaneil and 'we were together.'"
The saying is a turn of phrase that gives a weightiness to a friendship in the past that is now somehow different because either, 1) the two friends are separated by a distance or 2) one of the two friends has died and joined the Church Triumphant. In most of my conversations, I encounter the latter of the two connotations. A friend is longing for someone who has died. (*note* Nathaneil and I are still good friends and he is still very much alive; only, now we are separated by a few thousand miles).
For this All Saints Sunday, I have really been thinking a lot about this turn of phrase. It is such a unique and beautiful way of talking about a relationship that is both very meaningful, but now somehow different than it was before.
It gets me thinking about the saints of God who have gone before us, who are leaning forward into the gates of eternal life. And then it gets me thinking, what if those of us who have victory in Christ, because of God's gift of forgiveness and salvation, are simply only standing a little bit straighter, a little bit more upright than those who are leaning forward into the gates of eternal life?
Perhaps the saying, "...we were together," is simply a way of longing for a future together, not longing for the past. Perhaps there is a quality about the phrase that leans not backward into a complex history and longing for a past like I thought, but leans forward into the unknown future of God. And perhaps those who have died and gone before us are simply leaning a little bit more than those of us who are still living now.
When we say, "...we were together," about a relationship we had with someone who has now died, we are not saying that the relationship is over, but that it is different; and the difference is in the angle of our bodies as we lean into the future that God has in store for us. Perhaps, "...we were together," is a way of talking about believing in the, "communion of saints," both those who have died and gone before us, and saints/sinners who are still now living in the present. Perhaps, "...we were together," simply remembers the angle of our bodies and the angle of the bodies of those who have gone before us as we all lean toward the future God has for us.
Or, I have had too much tea and it is a Friday afternoon! :oP
The saying goes like this, "...we were together." From what I can gather, it is a saying about friendship. But it's more than that. It is about friendship and proximity. It means something along the lines of, "we were friends and we spent a lot of time with each other."
And yet, the saying seems to be even more than simply friendship and proximity. There is a particular quality about it that is hard to put into words. "...we were together," has a sense of longing, a sense of leaning into a complex history; it has a quality to it that I don't encounter when someone says, "we were friends," or, "we used to hang out." There is a past-tense quality about the saying that seamlessly transitions into a longing for the past.
I have only heard the saying spoken by some of the older members that I visit. So this leads me to think it might be more of a generational saying than regional or cultural peculiarity (it could be a combination of all of these).
In any case, I like it. Let me give you a sense of how it sounds when it is used. "I had a very good friend in seminary; his name was Nathaneil and 'we were together.'"
The saying is a turn of phrase that gives a weightiness to a friendship in the past that is now somehow different because either, 1) the two friends are separated by a distance or 2) one of the two friends has died and joined the Church Triumphant. In most of my conversations, I encounter the latter of the two connotations. A friend is longing for someone who has died. (*note* Nathaneil and I are still good friends and he is still very much alive; only, now we are separated by a few thousand miles).
For this All Saints Sunday, I have really been thinking a lot about this turn of phrase. It is such a unique and beautiful way of talking about a relationship that is both very meaningful, but now somehow different than it was before.
It gets me thinking about the saints of God who have gone before us, who are leaning forward into the gates of eternal life. And then it gets me thinking, what if those of us who have victory in Christ, because of God's gift of forgiveness and salvation, are simply only standing a little bit straighter, a little bit more upright than those who are leaning forward into the gates of eternal life?
Perhaps the saying, "...we were together," is simply a way of longing for a future together, not longing for the past. Perhaps there is a quality about the phrase that leans not backward into a complex history and longing for a past like I thought, but leans forward into the unknown future of God. And perhaps those who have died and gone before us are simply leaning a little bit more than those of us who are still living now.
When we say, "...we were together," about a relationship we had with someone who has now died, we are not saying that the relationship is over, but that it is different; and the difference is in the angle of our bodies as we lean into the future that God has in store for us. Perhaps, "...we were together," is a way of talking about believing in the, "communion of saints," both those who have died and gone before us, and saints/sinners who are still now living in the present. Perhaps, "...we were together," simply remembers the angle of our bodies and the angle of the bodies of those who have gone before us as we all lean toward the future God has for us.
Or, I have had too much tea and it is a Friday afternoon! :oP
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Learning to be a pastor
Between Christmas and New Year's Day we took a brief trip to Sioux Falls to celebrate Christmas with my folks and sister, and to relax a little. I've heard it said from many other people before, that one never really realizes how much one needs a little break until about half way into the break.
Well, my epiphany didn't come until the third day of our trip. It was then that I finally felt relaxed enough to let all the last six months of life and ministry sink into the background a little bit. It truly felt like some Sabbath time, which I have not felt like I have had yet.
Life as a pastor is interesting in this way. There are days when I get to church and time just goes; the day is spent doing office work, visiting, getting the mail, doing more office work, visiting more, going to a meeting, etc, etc, etc. These days FLY by. Yet, on these days there is not much tangible, visible evidence that things are getting done. I feel exhausted at the end of the day, but I don't see the fruition or accomplishment of something tangible.
I often have this sense that I haven't even done anything, or I have completely wasted my entire day. That's probably the hardest emotion to deal with: the feeling that I've wasted a whole day. I know that this congregation has blessed us with a great salary, benefits, an absolutely beautiful house to live in; so with this in mind, I feel like the end of the day should not produce a feeling of waste.
And then there's another feeling that creeps up that I don't like. I have feelings of guilt when I spend an entire day in the office, doing work that hopefully keeps the organization functioning well. I know that one of my tasks as pastor is to administrate an "organization" that hosts a weekly event of about 100-115 people, in addition to all of the other activities happening throughout the month. Yet, whenever I give an entire day to doing this work, I'm always worried that I haven't given enough time to the more typical (or at least the more stereotypical) work of a pastor, such as visiting. I don't know where this feeling comes from, either.
There, that feels better. It feels good to have it out on paper or a screen where I can see it all. Perhaps these are normal feelings; perhaps I'm not the only one who deals with them. But even if they are normal, it's still important that I know that I am feeling them and I can air them out a little bit. It feels good to give these feelings a little air, even if it is only here.
With all this said, it is also important to hear that I am forgiven for my monumental waste of time and my guilt about doing the ad-ministration. Ministry must be done in all sorts of forms, and sometimes it will be a waste of time, or at least feel like it. But, I'm learning. I'm learning to be a pastor. Seminary can teach Bible, systematic theology, pastoral care theory, even some leadership; but it cannot teach a person to be a pastor. That is learned right out here. And sometimes it causes these feelings. Yet, God forgives and calls me into this life of ministry each and every day, even when it feels like a monument waste of time, I know that God is bringing about the forgiveness of sin in the world and making all things new through Jesus Christ. So, thanks be to God. Even when it feels like a waste.
Well, my epiphany didn't come until the third day of our trip. It was then that I finally felt relaxed enough to let all the last six months of life and ministry sink into the background a little bit. It truly felt like some Sabbath time, which I have not felt like I have had yet.
Life as a pastor is interesting in this way. There are days when I get to church and time just goes; the day is spent doing office work, visiting, getting the mail, doing more office work, visiting more, going to a meeting, etc, etc, etc. These days FLY by. Yet, on these days there is not much tangible, visible evidence that things are getting done. I feel exhausted at the end of the day, but I don't see the fruition or accomplishment of something tangible.
I often have this sense that I haven't even done anything, or I have completely wasted my entire day. That's probably the hardest emotion to deal with: the feeling that I've wasted a whole day. I know that this congregation has blessed us with a great salary, benefits, an absolutely beautiful house to live in; so with this in mind, I feel like the end of the day should not produce a feeling of waste.
And then there's another feeling that creeps up that I don't like. I have feelings of guilt when I spend an entire day in the office, doing work that hopefully keeps the organization functioning well. I know that one of my tasks as pastor is to administrate an "organization" that hosts a weekly event of about 100-115 people, in addition to all of the other activities happening throughout the month. Yet, whenever I give an entire day to doing this work, I'm always worried that I haven't given enough time to the more typical (or at least the more stereotypical) work of a pastor, such as visiting. I don't know where this feeling comes from, either.
There, that feels better. It feels good to have it out on paper or a screen where I can see it all. Perhaps these are normal feelings; perhaps I'm not the only one who deals with them. But even if they are normal, it's still important that I know that I am feeling them and I can air them out a little bit. It feels good to give these feelings a little air, even if it is only here.
With all this said, it is also important to hear that I am forgiven for my monumental waste of time and my guilt about doing the ad-ministration. Ministry must be done in all sorts of forms, and sometimes it will be a waste of time, or at least feel like it. But, I'm learning. I'm learning to be a pastor. Seminary can teach Bible, systematic theology, pastoral care theory, even some leadership; but it cannot teach a person to be a pastor. That is learned right out here. And sometimes it causes these feelings. Yet, God forgives and calls me into this life of ministry each and every day, even when it feels like a monument waste of time, I know that God is bringing about the forgiveness of sin in the world and making all things new through Jesus Christ. So, thanks be to God. Even when it feels like a waste.
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