Tag Archives: Pastoral Care

A Pastoral Posture toward Social Media

My undergraduate degree is in chemistry. My desire was to be a doctor, but the Lord had other plans. I’ve sometimes wondered, “Lord, if this was you plan, couldn’t you have led to me to an easier degree?!” But maybe God did that so I could learn one fact that I actually think about a lot: darkness doesn’t actually exist. Darkness is simply what it is not; it is the absence of light. When light enters into the darkness, the darkness no longer remains, because darkness cannot exist where light is.

This must be significant when we think of how many times in the Gospels that Jesus either called himself Light or said that his followers are to be a light. This is a world that has significant darkness to it. As Christians, it is our job to be light, God’s light, in those dark places.

One of the places that may seem the darkest today is social media. All we have to do is look around Facebook or Twitter or any of the other social media sites to see our worst impulses. Name calling, mocking, divisiveness, so many areas of division and darkness. I have many friends who have gotten off social media completely, and I can’t say that I blame them. The Bible warns to us avoid such pointless division. (Titus 3:9 – “But avoid stupid controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.”) So we should all log out and delete our apps, right? Maybe. But maybe not.

As a pastor, as I’ve seen more darkness and division on social media, instead of giving it over to the darkness completely, I’ve felt compelled to shine a little light, especially in the days of COVID, where my friend list will be the largest congregation I preach to. And that is what I’m doing: I preach. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I preach a little different. I may think of it as preaching, though to the average person on social media, it may not look like that. But just like every sermon I preach, I’m trying to point to Jesus, and I do the same with my use of social media. It just may not look or seem like a sermon. Frankly, I think that says more about our sermons than it does about my social media usage.

With my social media presence, I try to do a few different things.

Be transparent. First and foremost, I try to be transparent. About the only compliment I really appreciate is when folks tell me I don’t act like a preacher. What that means is that I just act normally. Folks aren’t used to their preacher acting like a regular person, and we preachers don’t always put down our guard enough to act like normal people (which we are). So, I make fun of myself. I talk about music or wrestling. I make fun of friends. I admit when I’m tired or sad or angry. I post authentic things that are actually happening. It is real. So, when I talk about Jesus, that is the same thing. Real.

Don’t take myself or life too seriously. I want to make people laugh. I believe we’ve all just gotten too self-conscious. I want to “preach” without being preachy or condescending. I never, ever, ever, want to talk down to anyone. We should point to truth with a twinkle in our eye. Many of us have forgotten how to laugh or lost our joy and our ability to find joy in life. I want people to laugh again.

Help people think. This may be my main goal. I try to never tell people what they have to do, or even what they must believe. I remind them of what Christians believe, or what the Bible says, or what our church teaches. I try to help people do their own theological reflection. If you and I impulsively react to everything nowadays, then no one thinks. One of my goals, especially on complicated and controversial issues, is to help people to think for themselves, in light of what Scripture and church teaching show us.

Focus on grace, grace, and more grace. The world is so hard today. We need beauty, we need grace. We need hope. We need peace. I want us to do what Paul wrote in Philippians 4:8 – “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” I want to help us focus on what is good.

John Wesley would go where the people were and preach to them. He preached in the fields, in the streets, wherever they were. That’s how I try to see social media. I want to shine a light: provide some biblical commentary, some laughter, some realism, but always, hopefully, a little light.

The world is dark today and has always been. But there is and has always been light and beauty. That’s the space we should operate from. We have an obligation to shine light on social media and all throughout our lives. We have a call to be salt and light in every area. May it be so.

Featured image courtesy Jon Tyson via Unsplash.

Jesus with the Pastor: What God Does with Our Dirt

When I was in seminary, I often traveled long distances by bus. Greyhound used to have a $59 ticket to anywhere in North America. The price fit my budget and the timing fit my personality. I didn’t mind a long bus ride when I had a handful of books and a day and a half to dig in. But I had to be very careful because sometimes people would get on the bus hoping to make a best friend before the next stop. Not me. I just wanted to read my books and enjoy some solitude. I discovered a trick to keep the seat next to me open. While bus-travel is best done lightly, one item I always brought with me: my pillow. Have you ever seen an old pillow outside its case? It can be a bit off-putting. Snuggling up to my uncased pillow often kept the seat next to me open. Why? Because nobody wants to sit next to a dirty pillow. We don’t like being next to dirt…at all!

Think for a moment about all the phrases that use the word “dirt” or an equivalent. Heard of a dirty movie? Given a dirty look? Did you used to have a potty mouth or been forced to do the dirty work? You might hope to become filthy rich, but you don’t want someone to dig up the dirt on you. Why? Because we hide our dirt; we clean up our minds and hearts and language. We not only put covers on some pillows to hide their dirt; we cover our souls. We worry that some parts of our past might never come clean.

Psychologist Alfred Adler said that dirt keeps people away from us. But “dirt” doesn’t just keep other people away; it seems to create a separation from God. Uncleanness was a way of describing people’s defilement before God, so the Old Testament has specific ways of helping people become ritually clean. Leviticus 12-15 describes ways of becoming clean because of impurity coming from blood, skin diseases, and other bodily fluids. Leviticus 16 describes the Day of Atonement—when uncleanness and rebellion is gathered together and cleansed. Both the Israelites and the Tabernacle (Tent of Meeting) are cleansed to be in God’s presence. This combination of uncleanness and sin comes through the prophet Isaiah, as well, who said that he was a man of unclean lips and came from a people of unclean lips (Isaiah 6:5).

Now, why this lengthy discussion about dirt? Because it gives us depth to understanding what Jesus does in John 13:1-17, the last supper. Back in John 1, John said that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us (1:14). The noun of this verb “to dwell” is the same word that the Septuagint (the Old Testament translated from Hebrew to Greek) uses for tent or Tabernacle (Tent of Meeting). Before the temple was built, the Tabernacle was the place where God would meet with his people. It was a portable location for the presence of God while the Israelites were wandering in the wilderness after leaving Egypt. In John 1:14, John is saying that the enfleshed Word is the Tabernacle, the presence of God. Of course, in John 2, Jesus says that his body is the temple that will be raised after three days. Now notice what is happening here: rather than the disciples getting cleansed to come into Jesus’ presence, the tabernacling presence/temple of God is washing the disciples. We are not cleansed before we come into the presence of God; God in Christ comes to cleanse us! How amazing, then, are the words of Jesus, “And you are clean” (v. 10)!

But this is a specific type of cleaning. Notice the posture Jesus takes: After supper, Jesus took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. The Greek word for “took off” can also be translated “laid aside” or “laid down”—exactly what Jesus said he will do with his life for the sheep (10:15). Further, wrapping a towel around his waist was taking the posture of a slave and washing feet was doing the work of a slave. Jesus maintains this posture into the next day because that’s when Jesus dies a slave’s death on the cross. In this death, God hands down the sentence for uncleanness, but also takes the sentence on himself. Or, as Isaiah says it, “By his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Jesus dies a slave’s death and the result is that he cleanses us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Jesus lays aside his clothes to take up the towel to wash his disciples’ feet and he keeps the slave’s towel to lay aside his life to wash our whole persons.

The enemy may remind you of your dirt—the stuff you want to keep hidden. But we must pay close attention to the tabernacling presence of God, the Word made flesh, the one whose body is the temple. He has come not to remind us of our dirt, but to make us clean! And by virtue of his sacrificial death, Jesus says to us, “You are clean!”

To read more on the presence of Jesus with the pastor, see Dr. Aaron Perry’s new book out now: Kairos Care: A Process for Pastoral Counseling in the Office and in Everyday Experiences (Abingdon Press). For a sample chapter, click “Take a Look Inside” at https://www.cokesbury.com/Kairos-Care

Featured image courtesy Sandie Clarke on Unsplash.

Gathering in Worship Again: Ways to Mark Change

As many congregations return to gathering in new or partial ways after a period of virtual worship, there are both logistical challenges and shepherding challenges. Essentially, widespread change has occurred in a condensed and contentious time. Some shared rituals in worship function as rites of passage, like funerals; the loss of sharing these rituals as a community has at times been devastating. For many, the past 12 months have been marked by uncertainty, frustration, fear, loss, anxiety, stress, and relief; but not only are we, in the midst of life, in death; we are also, in death, in the midst of life. Babies have been welcomed, weddings performed, new vocations discovered. In liminal times of emotional complexity, humans crave communal markers to express the cry of the heart and to clarify seasons and meaning. Symbols can carry layers of meaning when life experiences are so tangled that mere literal words struggle to hold the weight. In Christian worship, these symbols aren’t only functions of community expression; they are received as means of grace that reveal the very heart of God. Not every Christian symbol is a sacrament, but many moments in embodied Christian worship have the capacity to serve as means of grace.

As believers begin gathering in person again, what are some practical ways a community can bear witness to the loss and hope woven throughout the past year? Surveying the sheer scope of change – good or bad – that individuals and communities have endured, how is room made for lament, celebration, and the exhaustion in between? Finding ways to mark change sits peacefully with the reality that everyone – individuals, communities, regions, countries – will re-enter familiar patterns at different paces, due to varying needs and conditions.

What are some recurring cries of the heart expressed by Christians and non-Christians, leaders and laypeople alike? Many are echoed in Psalms of lament. Gathering again stirs a variety of responses among people. There may be:

Relief, celebration, joy
Grief at the empty spaces of those who have died
Grief at the loss of daily rituals and companionship
Fear that accommodations for the disabled or home-bound will be forgotten
Distrust of others fueled by differing perspectives
Impatience for places and practices to look like they used to
Fatigue of tragedy and bad news
Relief at return to familiar space and practices
Guilt from surviving or experiencing the pandemic relatively unscathed
Anxiety from uncertainty in social interaction
Gratitude for the ability to begin gathering again, even with adaptations

Thankfully, there are some helpful liturgical resources from The Episcopal Church, the Church of England, and the Methodist Church in Britain that provide some markers to guide worshipers through the fog. From the inability to write in a coffee shop to the death of a loved one, from losing a business to losing facial expressions to educational upheaval, there is space to mark changes big and small, yet not-so-small. Jesus wept over the dead and heard the cry of the falling sparrow alike; and people who live alone, and people who live in families with children, all have something they’ve lost and found in the past year. There is room in the heart of God, and there is space in the worshiping community, for all of it – tragic fatality and kids’ disappointed plans alike.

The Liturgy of Gathering Again: Lament, Remembrance, Thanksgiving

The loss of usual funeral rituals has stolen the opportunity for loved ones to receive the healing honor of community witness. Not only have families of the deceased been affected, but communities themselves have endured the loss of sharing in these rituals. Some communities have lost many – so many it’s difficult to keep track. Health care workers sometimes lost the in-person support and services of hospital or hospice chaplains, finding themselves end-of-life witnesses. At the same time, many people have been limited in ways they can express thanks and gratitude for the many health care workers who labored often behind the scenes in very difficult circumstances.

The Church of England has shared valuable resources and reflections on opportunities to hold general services of lament, specific services of remembrance or memorial, and services of thanksgiving. For instance, on remembering and memorials, the counsel in one guide prompts that,

“The two main elements that memorial services and remembering events need to offer are opportunities to mourn and to give thanks:
• Acknowledgement of suffering, loss and death
• Gratitude for all who have helped in so many ways
• Thanks for survival, health and wellbeing
• Thanks for the life of the individual(s) who has died”

There are also insights on the value of services of restoration – a time of worship designed to bridge worshipers from crisis and loss toward renewed trust for the future. “Naming the unexpected gifts of this crisis as well as its challenges, celebrating the rediscovery of the importance of the local, and the resurgence of neighbourliness will enable the journey of renewal and restoration. Consideration may be given to bring an act of worship to focus in some sort of symbolic act of restoration, entrusting ourselves to the God who leads us into his future.”

The Timing of Gathering Again: Scattered & Together

Depending on the region or specific community needs, some congregations have not yet begun to re-gather, or haven’t started gathering again fully. One resource from the Methodist Church in Britain provides a service guide called “Beyond Exile: A service to celebrate a return to public worship.” Adaptable for local circumstances, it includes liturgy, planning notes, preaching notes, and new hymns for “a returning congregation” for situations that include congregational singing. From this service, one excerpt from the “litany of lament” questions,

“We thought we knew how the world was meant to be. We would see colleagues, friends and loved ones again, and we would embrace, laugh and share stories as we always have. How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?

And now, we know something new. We know that the world is not ours to control, and that our plans are confounded by the smallest microbe. God is teaching us a new song, for a new land.“

For places with many restrictions still in place, when believers may still be scattered or unable to provide in-person support, the Methodist Church in Britain also has adapted prayers for “the dying, the bereaved, and those who cannot attend a funeral.”

The Visual Cues of Gathering Again: Re-Entering the Public

This global moment invites people of all walks of life to re-engage with the practice of public mourning: not as a maudlin display of self-importance, but as a healthy tool of communication. But it’s been decades since people regularly wore the formerly common black armbands, like the character George Bailey when his father died in the film, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” A black piece of fabric around the upper arm is a visual cue to strangers and acquaintances alike: be kind, tread gently, this person is grieving, give some extra grace for a while. A more modern version is a simple black silicone band marked with words like, “I’m grieving” – just enough to remind the wearer and others that all is not well.

Sometimes, biblical phrasing like, “sackcloth and ashes” or “weeping and gnashing of teeth” is used figuratively – few Americans would grieve now wearing scratchy cloth or ashes. But grief and lament are not antithetical to faith. They are emblems of love, that “greatest of these.” They do not betray a lack of hope or trust; they hope and trust in God’s character, willing to express without repression. Demonstrating grief is Christlike: Christ, who groaned at Lazarus’ death, who wept over Jerusalem. (Tish Harrison Warren’s uncannily timed Prayer in the Night: For Those Who Work or Watch or Weep is a gift for the grieving and those who love them.)

For those who re-enter worship or public gathering with other infirmity, like ongoing health risk, there are other visual cues available to communicate simply with others. Wrist bands like Social Bands quickly cue an individual’s risk and desire for physical engagement. Ongoing consideration for others may well be one of the strongest notes of public witness that Christians can sound right now – consideration regardless of one’s own assessment or perception of risk.

At a basic level, hospitality is in part anticipating the needs of another and proactively preparing for them. Welcoming the jubilant alongside the dazed and shell-shocked means providing space and opportunity for both to bear witness to the changes in the lives of the other. In gathering, all are invited to bring the cries of their hearts to God in worship, receiving the same shared grace that offers hope, comfort, and celebration to each vulnerable heart.

Featured image courtesy Luke Carliff via Unsplash.

Where Is Our Leadership Leading?

Do you ever think about where your leadership is leading? Winston Churchill once commented that, “we shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.” Having been the pastor of a congregation which met in a barn of an Art Nouveau Gothic church building, I really understand what he meant. Yet something else also shapes how we function as the church: our understanding and resulting practice of leadership.

I entered ministry in the early 90s, so I lived through the rise of the “leadership movement” within the evangelical church. My bookshelves are now packed with books on leadership. Over the years, I attended numerous conferences on leadership and took undergraduate and postgraduate courses on leadership. Like most pastors, my email inbox is daily bombarded by invitations to read blogs about leadership and listen to podcasts about leadership. With providential predictability and irony, as I type these words, I have an email notification beginning, “Seven Signs Your Leadership…”.

I confess that I have not been just a passive witness of this rise of leadership thought in the church but also an active consumer and even promoter of it. The books, conferences, blogs – and in the early 90s, even cassette tapes – churned out by leadership writers and consumed by me have shaped my self-understanding as one called to ministry in the church. If I am honest, as a result, I came to understand my primary calling as being a leader. And my understanding of what it means to be a leader has in turn been shaped largely by models of leadership drawn from business and even the military.

Have you played the wooden block balancing game Jenga? If so, you know what happens: one by one, the wooden blocks are removed until the whole tower becomes shaky and eventually collapses. That’s what has happened to my confidence in the leadership movement over the past few years: scandal after scandal has made my confidence in it wobble; now it feels to me like it’s collapsing around my ears.

For those of us who are called to serve the church, being a leader (as spelled out in the flood of resources aimed at us) was never meant to be our primary way of approaching that calling. For his PhD work, David W. Bennett looked at the metaphors for ministry in the New Testament. One of his main conclusions was, “Jesus focused more of his attention on teaching the disciples to follow rather than giving them instructions on how to lead. The single most important lesson for leaders to learn is that they are first sheep, not shepherds, first children, not fathers, first imitators, not models.” (Leadership Images from the New Testament) This is consistent with a quick approximation that in the New Testament the words “lead” or “leader” are found about seven times but the word “disciple” appears 260 times and the phrase “follow me” appears 23 times.

Despite what we’ve heard from the leadership gurus in the Kingdom of God, everything does not rise and fall on leadership but on discipleship. We can only lead in the Body of Christ through following Christ. In fact, what makes Christian leadership Christian is that it is expressed in and through Christian discipleship. In the church, following is leading, which is why Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 11:1, “Follow me as I follow Christ.” The problem is that a whole industry predominantly focused attention on “follow me” while virtually ignoring, “as I follow Christ.” After all, have you ever been invited to a global followership summit?

To be clear, I am not questioning the need for leadership in the church. What I am questioning is from where we draw our models and our mentors for leadership in the church, and the impact that has on church culture.

In The Strength Of Weakness, Roy Clements asked three questions that go to the very heart of the issue. “Let me ask you, what is your image of a great leader? Let me ask you another question, what is your image of a great Christian leader? Now, let me ask you a third question. Did the insertion of the word ‘Christian’ into the second question materially change your answer?”

Clements forces us to think about the sources we draw on for our definition of greatness in leadership in the church. Surely, only Christ gets to define that for his Body. In his clearest statement on leadership, Jesus said to his disciples,

“You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave— just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20: 25-28)

Those words are a clear call for us as Jesus’ disciples to reject the leadership values and practices of the dominant culture rather than be inspired by them. Instead, we are to follow his example of sacrificial servanthood in how we exert influence within the Kingdom of God. Pecking orders and power plays are ruled out among his disciples. Author Lance Ford writes of these verses in Unleader, “His [Jesus] requirement is that we lay down the crown and spectre of leadership and pick up the towel and basin of servantship.” Yet I can’t shake the feeling that the leadership movement effectively encouraged me to do the opposite.

Rather than focusing our primary attention on Jesus when it comes to leadership, our focus has been elsewhere. For about two decades, Christian leaders have been encouraged to draw inspiration for their leadership from the leaders in the worlds of business and the military. As a result, many have come to approach leadership in the church as a position of power rather than a spiritual gift and an opportunity to serve. Recently, the evangelical movement has thrown its hands up in horror as a whole crop of its leaders has been revealed to have abused their power. There has been a litany of stories: leaders who have created toxic, unaccountable macho cultures, who have exploited and abused people and acted in narcissistic ways that served themselves rather than Jesus or others. In retrospect, where else should we have expected the version of leadership we popularized to lead?

It is time to admit that the power-abusing, narcissistic church leaders of recent scandals are not aberrations but the all-too-predictable Frankenstein creation of the evangelical industry’s own leadership movement. As for me, I’m turning my back on importing the leadership modes of Fortune 500 CEOs, victorious generals, and leadership gurus. Here are the voices I am choosing to listen to; here are some of their leadership maxims, when it comes to my calling:

“Follow me.” – Jesus Christ

“He must become greater; I must become less.” – John the Baptist

“Follow me as I follow Christ.” – Apostle Paul

“If anyone comes to me, I want to lead them to Him.” – Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

“The bible is a book about followers, written by followers, for followers. I am always a follower first.” – Rusty Ricketson

When it comes to leadership, which voices are you currently listening to? Where do you think they will lead you and your church?

Resilient Prayer in Escalating Crisis: Video

Are you a leader facing escalating crises on multiple fronts? Enjoy this video from Managing Editor Elizabeth Glass Turner, on resilient prayer for leaders juggling the unexpected, and recognizing signals of growing spiritual resilience. Excerpt below.

Excerpt: “The Holy Spirit not only shapes what you want or what you pray for, but how you pray in the midst of crisis, because you cannot pray for what you do not see. This is why resilient prayer begins with deliberately mindfully honing awareness. As you acknowledge your human propensity for blind spots, it allows your spirit to be sensitive to what you simply haven’t been aware of.

So when you pray from awareness of the seen and unseen, awareness of the immediate vs the eternal, the global and not just local, aware of the limits of your own control and autonomy – then you are inviting God to break into the present calamity in ways that you can’t foresee or predict. You are inviting God to put a burden on your hearts for the needs around you that the Holy Spirit helps you discern. You are inviting God to take your availability and propel it into the needs of this world, whether locally or globally, in small or in major steps.

When this honed awareness provides the basis and architecture of prayer, what will you find? Spiritual resilience that is steadfast in crisis – personal crisis, national crisis, global crisis; it may not feel like you are resilient; you may not feel confident.

So what are some signals that you are growing in spiritual resilience, whether you feel strong or resilient, or not? First, if you find that God is using you in ways you didn’t expect, that is a signal that you are praying with honed awareness. It is a signal that that awareness is structuring how you pray, and that how you pray – no matter what your circumstances – is demonstrating growth in spiritual resilience.

What you wrote off or thought nothing of, you now discover yielding unexpected good things. Maybe someone comments, or says, “you have no idea how much I needed to hear that.” Maybe what you underestimated instead blossoms and flourishes. If you find that God is using you in ways you didn’t anticipate, pay attention; you are praying with honed awareness, and how you pray is demonstrating growth in spiritual resilience – because you were faithful to small moments that seemed insignificant.”

Practicing Covenant Leadership: The Virtues of Christ

In our particular cultural moment, have you noticed a longing for values or traits that may seem absent in public life? Warren Bennis famously outlined key leadership characteristics, identifying vision, inspiration, empathy, and trustworthiness as essential leadership characteristics. We long for leaders who model them; this longing seems innate in us. In Scripture we quickly see that Jesus modeled these qualities. As the ultimate Servant, Jesus also modeled listening, empathy, healing, awareness, persuasion, commitment to the growth of people, and building community (see Robert Greenleaf’s work). Have you had the space to reflect on what characterizes your own leadership during this season? Let’s take up the challenge to examine our leadership in light of Christ’s teaching by better understanding covenant versus contract leadership.

There are many examples of contract leadership. For instance, Dr. Richard Gunderman, M.D., a professor of medical humanities, might argue that the United States was founded on a contract. James Madison, author of the Bill of Rights and considered a father of the Constitution, understood the voluntary nature of contract leadership when he wrote about the restraints on, and rights of, the government and citizens of the country. As suggested in a 2011 lecture by Dr. Gunderman, contracts are required because of a lack of trust. Contract leadership characteristics may include concern for profit, narrowly defined responsibilities, and expectations of performance. The transactional nature of contract leadership requires adherence to rules and procedures and does not insist upon supererogation.

Regarding transactions, the way in which rational people relate to each other through economic terms is sometimes referred to as homo economicus. Within the realm of homo economicus, the primary desire is the acquisition of wealth and the primary ability is the choice between means (Gunderman). John Stuart Mill suggests that humans desire to accumulate the most necessaries, conveniences, and luxuries with the least quantity of labor, which is the modus operandi of homo economicus.

For example, many employment relationships operate with this paradigm. When employees do not perform, they are in violation of their employment contract, and the employment is terminated. In this sense, contracts limit relationships, have expiration dates, and are concerned with personal benefit. Contract leadership seems to be a form of transactional leadership. This can be effective in some contexts, but Dr. Gunderman suggests that we find a better word than greed and a better idea than economic transactions on which to base our leadership.

In fact, he challenges us to “not be concerned with writing our personal story, but discovering the larger story of which we are part.” This suggests that a worldview change is required to be a covenant leader. Covenant leadership is an other-focused leadership style which is transformational, as opposed to transactional contract leadership. Transformation or metamorphosis is expected by the covenant leader: that followers and leaders would become something more than they were previous to the relationship. As opposed to contract leadership in which breach of contract might mean loss of employment, Dr. Gunderman cites the parable of the prodigal son to illustrate breach being met with forgiveness, healing, and celebration. For the covenant leader, concern is for the relationship and the wholeness of the covenant, not on the breach of contract.

Where homo economicus operates assuming lack of trust, Dr. Gunderman calls leaders to operate in the mode of homo ethicus, relating to each other through principles. Where homo economicus operates out of greed, homo ethicus operates out of sacrifice and generosity. Although many non-Christian examples may illustrate the sacrificial, transformational leader, many examples are found in Scripture.

Considering covenant in Scripture, one can begin with the creation of humanity through inspiration, the breathing in of divine influence. Humans are to imitate God’s creative nature, needing inspiration – the breathing in of divine influence – “to be fully alive, and to help those around us to be fully alive.” The biblical arc is full of examples of the characteristics of covenant leadership: trusting like the Good Samaritan, bestowing blessing like Isaac to Jacob to Joseph’s sons, being transformational like Jesus to Lazarus (called back to full life), and being changed like Paul on the road to Damascus.

As a physician and leader in the ethics of health care, Dr. Gunderman calls organizational leaders to choose covenant leadership, issuing a challenge to assess whether we operate according to homo economicus or homo ethicus. We must evaluate what is most important to us and what we are striving to become. In the domain of homo economicus, work is punishment, a means to make money so that we can afford to do the things that we enjoy outside of work. In the freedom of homo ethicus, we work because God worked as a creative Being, creating not from necessity but from joy. Relationships within the work environment are to be enjoyed and used to generate transformed, better lives.

For covenant leaders operating from an assumption of homo ethicus, there is real opportunity to make a substantive difference. This is true even in a short time constrained by the brevity of working relationship. This leadership style is an active, ongoing choice.

Each moment, the organizational leader who desires to operate from the values of a homo ethicus approach must think of the sacred in the other, sacrifice selfish desires, and commit to the kind of creative, transformational covenant leadership found in the Creator’s actions throughout Scripture.

Using the practice of covenant leadership as a guide, pastors and church leaders can endeavor to choose a homo ethicus approach as a consistent emblem of our servant leadership. When we cast vision, is it for the growth and transformation of those we influence? Do listen with awareness so that we can inspire people to Christlike character? Do we exercise empathy in healing, restorative, community-building ways? Are we trustworthy as we steward the leadership to which God has called us? What choices might you need to make in order to live as a covenant leader rather than a contract leader? Can you identify obstacles to this calling?

See Warren Bennis, On Becoming a Leader

See Dr. Richard B. Gunderman 2011 lecture Leadership: command, contract, or covenant?

For more from Dr. Richard B. Gunderman, consider We Make a Life by What We Give. His new book Contagion: Plagues, Pandemics and Cures from the Black Death to Covid-19 and Beyond is available now in Great Britain and is scheduled for publication in the U.S. in early 2021.

The Cost of Preaching Pastorally & Prophetically

In a previous essay, I reflected on the fact that this is a unique and glorious time to preach the Gospel. The demands and upheaval brought on by the mysterious coronavirus were far more than most of us ever contemplated as pastors. Seeking to be faithful in preaching, teaching and pastoral care, many ministers were exhausted, spiritually depleted because of the intense and demanding changes. Then came the murder of George Floyd, and a social justice struggle more vividly felt and shared publicly than anything like it since the Civil Rights Movement.

On one hand, the preaching demands during the coronavirus pandemic are primarily pastoral and theological. Where is God in all of this? Is God responsible, what is God’s character? How do I live in community as a “good neighbor”? But on the other hand, the national response to George Floyd’s murder – demonstrations, calls for dramatic restructuring of our policing protocols and systems – adds another, more demanding prophetic layer to our role as ministers, requiring a certain, confident dimension to our preaching and leadership.

Sixty years’ experience in ministry leads me to describe our preaching task as both priest (pastor) and prophet. As Christian leaders, we speak to God for the people, and we speak to the people for God. Within my own responsibilities, I’m beginning a mentoring program with eight young clergypeople. Our conversations will center on the demands for pastoral and prophetic leadership in these days of demonstrations and the pronounced cries for racial justice.

The truth is, we really have no option; we must speak. Paradoxically, even our silence is speaking.

In the late 50’s and early 60’s during the Civil Rights Movement, I was a young minister in Mississippi; my ministry was shaped significantly by the issues raging around that movement. Our Wesleyan Accent editor has asked me to share about that time.

There came the time when violence against our Black neighbors was so widespread, events so dramatically demanding Christian witness, that three fellow ministers and I felt compelled to speak together. Each of us had sought to be faithful in our preaching and teaching in our local churches. The violence toward Black citizens was boiling over throughout the state. We four were young and had no significant institutional voice. We hoped that our bishop and other conference leaders would speak out in response to the rising tide of violent expressions of racism and oppressive prejudice; but the silence was deafening. We knew it was past time for someone to say that not all white Mississippi Methodists would continue to live silently in the closed, segregated society taking its destructive toll on our state.

When the four of us gathered on Monday, October 15, 1962, none of us even faintly guessed what might happen as a result of what we were about. What we did know, and what drove us in our decision and action, was that it was a time when remaining silent would have been irresponsible on our part, and we would’ve betrayed the Gospel we were committed to preaching.

For two days, we reflected, prayed, and talked together; then, we drafted a statement titled Born of Conviction. We engaged 24 others to add their signatures, and the 28 of us together issued the statement to our Methodist Church in Mississippi – and then, “all hell broke loose.” Twenty of the 28 signers of the statement were compelled in different ways and by different circumstances to leave the state. I was among the 20 compelled to leave my home state.

As I have confessed, I am painfully aware of my shortcomings during those days and since; yet despite where I feel I failed, there are lessons to be gleaned from that experience that may be helpful in these days.

There Are Times When We Must Speak

First, there comes a time when we must speak. In our ongoing ministry, we must seek to be faithful in speaking to God for the people and speaking to the people for God. If we are guided by Scripture, the content of our preaching will always have aspects of the pastoral and the prophetic. Yet, occasions come when either the pastoral or the prophetic will become more pronounced.

For instance, we would not be faithful in the context of the coronavirus if, in our preaching and teaching, we were not responding to the pastoral needs and theological questions this new illness raises. With the overlay of social justice concerns dramatically brought to the forefront with George Floyd’s murder, we have an equally demanding prophetic call.

Few pastors find it easy to balance those two dimensions in their week to week teaching and preaching. Some are more pastorally inclined; others more prophetic. Our current situation sets a unique stage for balance. This is a moment when we must speak to both these issues that are defining our times.

Speaking Publicly Invites Pastoral Interaction

Second, speaking publicly sets the table for more honest and fruitful pastoral sharing. There is a sense in which the virus and the demonstrations together should make it easier for a congregation to “hear gladly” a word from the Lord. Pastoral awareness will not allow silence on either issue. Speaking on these challenges will stimulate deeper sharing in personal relationships between pastors and laypeople. When this happens, listening is far more important than speaking on the part of the pastor. If we need to speak, we need to speak clearly and honestly, as transparently as possible. In the midst of controversy, to try to hide something undermines understanding and reconciliation. If we have listened, and if we speak respectfully with and to those who disagree with what we are saying and doing, then we can move forward with energy and without apology.

Counting the Cost Is a Spiritual Exercise

Third, “counting the cost” can be a positive spiritual exercise. There is cost no matter what the setting and challenges are. In most local churches, preaching on social issues will raise questions and opposition. I have been in settings where no one questioned my speaking on abortion but resistance to speaking on fair housing was heavy.

The “cost” varies. In the United Methodist Church of which I am a part, ordained elders of an annual conference are guaranteed a pastoral appointment. Many of our Wesleyan Methodist ministers serve in denominations in which local congregations call and vote on their pastors. Your consideration of cost is a different kind than mine.

Yet there was no question that there would be cost when I shared authorship and signed that “Born of Conviction” statement in Mississippi decades ago. I think of my wife Jerry. One can imagine how it felt on long nights; she knew what we were seeking to do. She was a 23-year-old with two babies; the cost – a move to California far from her mother and father, seeking to express friendship, to witness, and to share in developing a new congregation. But there was the cost in the long months after we issued the statement, before we moved to California. She knew about our friend – the doctor who had delivered our babies – calling for my resignation; she knew the anger and frustration stirring in the congregation, the unnamed people making angry telephone calls.

There is cost, and it is not all immediate. I often wrestled in my conscience about leaving Mississippi. Even after many years, I found myself in spiritual turmoil, thinking: if the church had been different…if there had been episcopal and other leadership that had supported us young clergy who were seeking to faithful…then I could have stayed.

There is cost, and we can only seek to make our decisions on the basis of faithfulness to our calling, perceived through prayer and the best counsel we receive from Christian conferencing with persons we trust. We must acknowledge that every person’s faithfulness will not be expressed in the same way.

There will be pushback to our preaching, the level of resistance determined by our individual settings, and how long and in what ways we have served our congregation. We can only measure the cost as individuals in very particular settings. If our congregational leadership is earnestly seeking to be faithful to Scripture and to Kingdom principles, we can negotiate specific actions and responses. Only the pastor on site can determine what it means to be faithful today, in this time and setting.

The people we lead are “souls committed to our care.” The very thought of being responsible to speak to God for them, and to speak to them for God may and should make us quiver inside. We must trust no longer in our own capacity but in God’s power.

Days like these clearly demand some witness from the church. That witness from the church to the larger community begins with the witness clearly shared within the church. When our people have experienced the genuineness of pastoral caring, speaking to God for them, they are more apt to listen to our speaking to them for God.

Reflecting on 60 years in ministry, whatever the costs have been, I relish memories of specific occasions when I have tackled prophetic preaching which was effective because of pastoral attention.

Visits through the Distance: Pastoral Presence

Raise your hand if you are a pastor who inwardly rejoiced when hospitals closed their doors for pastoral visits because of Covid-19. If only a fleeting moment, did you whisper a sigh of relief because Covid regulations meant you did not have to (a) make an already long day even longer with an afternoon stop by the hospital before heading home, (b) make small talk with a sick patient you hardly knew, or (c) enter a life or death situation where the family counted on you to say words of comfort? Maybe the coronavirus took away the “have to” of hospital visits, freed you from a late day of work, and released you from any perceived pressure to enter the room of a very sick patient and pray “the right words” for the family.

Raise your other hand if you inwardly rejoiced because finally you were given permission not to enter nursing homes. Covid stopped that, too. And hold up a foot if you relaxed, free from having to visit in anyone’s home. Quarantine, self-isolation and social distancing became your favorite vocabulary words as you stayed more in your office, inwardly loving the extra time to study or write your next sermon. And what about that particularly annoying church member who wants visits every day, often, and most of the time? Now you have a medical excuse. Just put on your mask, hold up a bottle of hand sanitizer, and tell her, “it’s for your own good.”

And actually, it is. It’s for your own good, too. If we listen to anything at all on the news, we recognize that Covid-19 is not something for you to ignore. It promises not to ignore you.

However, before we ever heard of this pandemic, there were pastors who felt the call to preach but not the call to reach. Visiting members and guests can be a treacherous journey outside of one’s comfort zone, into a new and frightening place. It can feel so intimidating that you want to run, so scary that you question your calling. After all, God does not give you multiple choice questions of what you would like to do or not do in ministry. For most pastors, there is a divine and very real pull from God, so strong that it cannot be ignored. It’s a call to preach.

Your part is a simple yes or no.

God sends no divine list with that divine calling. He does not ask if you are shy or bold, happy or melancholy, a “people person” or not. God doesn’t ask if you have counseling skills, if you know how to keep a confidence, or if you know how to laugh and cry with your sheep. God doesn’t ask if you would like to do a funeral. You will do a funeral. God doesn’t ask if you can speak before a congregation. You will speak before your congregation. He doesn’t ask if you can handle late nights or early mornings. All of this is tucked inside of those initial words calling you to preach the Gospel.

I have my own reasons to be grateful that I don’t have to go into hospitals or nursing homes right now. Though I’m not the pastor who does not want to visit, I am secretly thankful for permission to stay out of the heat: the burning-South-Georgia- summer-heat that falls all over me, ironing itself to my clothes and burrowing into my skin, pulling the life out of me. Covid saves me from a hot summer car that I would drive to my hot summer pastoral visit. (You’re the first person I’ve told, so please don’t tell.)

Actually, if we are truthful, there has been a sliding away of pastoral visits in recent years. I don’t know exactly when it started, but I do remember two conversations I had a few years ago with two elderly women. Both women’s comments moved into my heart and left a memory that gave me impetus to grow in my own resolve about visiting.

The first woman told me that years ago her pastor went out visiting church members’ places of business when their doors opened in the morning. She was a hairdresser, and she looked forward to the many days her pastor stopped by just to say hello and offer a prayer before he went to the next member’s workplace. I was impressed, and she was too. The pastoral visit at a business or in a home was expected and welcomed. I felt a little tug at my heart when I recognized pastors used to make in-person visits a priority. What changed?

But it was the second lady’s question that has stayed with me, sitting down in my heart and refusing to budge. I come back over and over to what she asked me, and if my heart could shed tears, I would keep a puddle in my heart’s lining. She was in my denomination but not in my church. In her 70’s, she sought me out at a store, and asked, “BJ, are they teaching at seminary that the pastor does not have to visit the older members?”

I was floored. She was kind, but serious. Had things gotten so bad in her church that she supposed not visiting was actually on a syllabus and would be covered in class?

She added, “We are the ones who give the most money. Many of us know about tithing, whereas many of the younger members don’t. Yet, we are the ones who are neglected.” There was no self-pity or anger in her voice. She was serious and very concerned. The look in her eyes and the sincerity of her question went home with me that day. I ate her words at supper. Every now and then, they appear on my dinner plate again, and I question if I am part of giving this wrong impression to our older adult members.

God have mercy.

Who will stand up for those who feel unloved and uncared for in our churches? That would be you, the one called to preach and proclaim the message of Christianity.

However, this is nothing new. Ignoring certain groups goes as far back as the beginning of the church in Acts. The Grecian Jews complained against the Hebraic Jews because their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food. Every human being feels unnoticed and left out at times. I love my John Wesley Study Bible notation for John 4: “Somewhere in the courts of the outcasts, Jesus is always waiting.”

When pandemic closings caused pastors to look for innovative ways to stay in touch, we were offered many. You, like me, are now likely able to Zoom, FaceTime, Facebook Live, and You Tube. I’ve learned how to tune in to an online Sunday School class and to teach an online Bible study. I must admit – I feel a little smug standing before our congregation and listing the several ways they can have church now – virtual church, of course. (I wish just one person from Generation X, Y or Z would hand me a gold star for my efforts or even better, send someone to me to model these new technological endeavors.)

But as good as technology can be, there is nothing that takes the place of one on one, eyeball to eyeball, ear to heart listening when someone is hurting, lonely, sick or facing isolation that can lead to panic and depression. Pick up the phone. Sit down to write a note of love and appreciation.

Our congregants are lonely for their church family. They are frightened over news reports. They long for a pastor to reach out with warmth and love over the phone or through email, text or regular mail. Be that pastor who feels the loneliness in your congregation. Be the pastor who reaches out to help those who are missing church.

It’s a great time to educate your sheep that church never was a building, anyway. Church is made up of warm souls coming together to know more about a very warm, very alive and very loving Christ who wants to sit by your side and give you a great big hug. Not a virtual hug. A real one that sends waves of peace into your heart.

The Holy Spirit also has something to say during this pandemic. God wants to remind you of his dynamic power in the first few verses in the book of Genesis: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” (Genesis 1:1-2, NIV)

That actually describes our current situation. There is an emptiness that causes divisions and strife in this earth. There is darkness due to what we have done to God’s beautiful creation and darkness inside of us due to our questions and fears with this pandemic. Yet, the Spirit is still hovering over you, and God says: “Let there be light…”

There will be an end to this current dilemma. You will find the light. Get still and sense the Spirit hovering.

Lord, hear our prayer.

Priscilla Hammond ~ How to Communicate Change in Church Policy during Chaotic Times

If you are you struggling to make decisions about policy and how to communicate those decisions to your church during this chaotic time, you are not alone. In this new normal of remote church, much consumes our day-to-day activities. It is difficult to plan and communicate future steps, sometimes even seemingly futile given the rapid changes occurring around us.

In his book In the Leadership Mode, Don Dunoon provides a helpful path forward, beginning with the difference between leadership and management communication. One is not better than the other. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens,” both leading and managing.

There are times when a leader has to put on a management hat and focus on processes. Right now, many pastors are engaged in process management. The tasks of initiating online services and producing content each week have taken precedence. Management mode focuses on “things” – technology and systems, strategies and plans, and the measurement of how well those things are working. Completed tasks become a measure of productivity that help managers to feel effective. Management problems are solved through technology and a focus on the explicit problem at hand. Managers rely on their formal authority to get things done, delegating tasks and taking action. For example, in Exodus 18, Jethro gives great advice to Moses about delegation and decision-making.

There is a lot of management required during this time of change in the church, but leadership is needed even more. Dunoon has created a process for leading through contentious change, and one could argue that there is no time more contentious than the present. The rate of change has been increasing exponentially. It took over a millennium for the church to embrace the organ as a worship instrument, and another millennium for some churches to be convinced that it is not the only instrument that can be played in church.¹ But along came the coronavirus, and it only took a few weeks for church leadership to figure out that the internet was a positive way to connect with parishioners.

Interestingly, many pastors during this time of Covid-exile say they most miss relationships, but relationships are often the one thing absent from our decisions about what to do next. If we operate in management mode, we may appear to be detached, problem-solving machines. In leadership mode, we comprehend that the problem isn’t technology, systems, or the need for a new plan, but the problem is perception, paradigms, and relationships. People don’t need to just understand the explicit problem (e.g., “we can’t meet in person”); change is needed in behavior and thinking. And if the church tries to change systems, people get defensive (if you don’t believe me, try changing from the organ to electric guitar), and defensive people defend systems.

Dunoon’s process to work through contentious change is ARIES: Attending, Reflecting, Inquiring, Expressing, and Synthesizing. It’s a relational process, and managers struggle with this because listening and reflecting doesn’t get the content produced for the next livestream. But if pastors spend some time processing what is going on within people instead of video content to push toward people, you will make better policy decisions that will be received, not without pushback, but definitely with more understanding.

Attending

Dunoon encourages us to set aside our achievement orientation and truly connect with others. Attending requires interaction. There is a setting aside of our agenda. Instead of producing a weekly church service, a daily devotional, and online small group interactions next week, could you have a town hall Zoom meeting where members can communicate what they’ve been going through and their perceptions about how the church could respond to this crisis? Could you make some calls? Attend to the perceptions of those in the church.

Reflecting

After we hear people, we need to reflect on what was unstated. Are there ways that people of faith are expected to act, in order not to be judged, that leave gaps in our depth of understanding of true feelings? People need to have a safe space to think, process, and continue the conversation. Is there a path you can create for congregants to communicate their fears to you? Can they tell you how they really feel about what might change about the church, moving forward? Create a safe space for those in the church to reflect.

Inquiring

Leaders often feel pressure to have all the answers. People come with us with questions, not for questions. Managers have answers because they have been given formal authority over systems that are static. But in chaotic times, we don’t always lead with answers; leaders ask questions. Contentious change means there is no perfect answer. There are myriad perspectives represented in the church, and by asking relational questions, shared meaning is developed. Inquire, listen, and allow the congregation to teach you and communicate back with you.

Expressing

In our sermons, the goal is to preach truth. But generally, pastors don’t just get up, read the lesson, and sit back down. We spend time fashioning our words in a way that will help the listener understand that truth. We give the history, the context, tell stories, and offer take-aways. We care enough about each person that we take the time to craft our message in order to persuade them of this truth. The message matters because the people hearing it matter, and this is the case for all church communications, not just Sunday morning. Expressing involves building a shared meaning, including our own views, so that individuals know they have been heard and are a part of the solution. Everyone’s view matters, including our own. Policy changes that result from this process are not dictated by managers, but rather develop as expressions of our collective fears, assumptions, and hopes that demonstrate a relationship with leadership.

Synthesizing

Task-focused decisions about things like systems and policies that are communicated from the top-down will be met with defensiveness. Even decisions that are made through relational processes as described above will not be received without pushback. There are no perfect answers, but when problems are solved together and people feel they’ve been heard, the solution can be communicated as a shared vision for moving forward. Ongoing discussions about the changes will continue in relationship because, even though everyone may not agree, they know there is a safe process for them to participate in church leadership.

¹ See https://westfield.org/programs/curious-facts/ for fun facts about the organ in church.

Wesleyan Accent ~ Soul Posture for the Socially Distanced

Among many angles of spiritual formation during societal and global upheaval, these reflections from church leaders examine dynamics like community disruption and anxiety; the illusion of security in leadership best practices; pastoral wisdom from the Congo; and a community guide for praying during pandemic.

INDIVIDUAL SOUL POSTURE

Disruption, Solitude, Anxiety

How is it with your soul right now? Rev. Ashlee Alley Crawford, Clergy Recruitment and Development Coordinator for the Great Plains Conference of The United Methodist Church, took to social media to encourage reflection on the state of our hearts. She writes,

“The chaos of the external world means we’re all going to be staying home more in the weeks ahead. That’s perhaps a bit of a scary thing-not to mention that for many, that means loss of income and loss of essential connection with others. Is there a gift in the disruption of our rhythms? I absolutely believe there is, but it will not be easy. Thinking about those most financially fragile and finding ways to cultivate hospitality and generosity in this time will require something of us.

Not to mention that we’re likely going to be alone with our own thoughts a bit more. Solitude and silence as spiritual practices are the best teachers, but it can take a while to make friends with them. These new disruptions and the anxiety they produce tempt us into creating a hurry of a different sort.

But I’m convinced that this season of cancellations and more time on our hands-even though it’s most unwelcome-has a gift for us.”

Rev. Crawford’s insights on disruption, anxiety, community, and mindfulness are a timely call to lean into silence, or solitude, or self-awareness.

Deepening Character when Strategy Implodes

Meanwhile a gripping narrative has emerged from The Wesleyan Church, pivoting from personal quarantine to profound reflection. Rev. Ben Ward, Asia-Pacific Area Director and Director of Development and Communication for Global Partners, discusses imploding plans and emerging realization:

“On March 9, I was issued a home quarantine order from the Ministry of Health here in Singapore. This means I essentially can’t leave my bedroom for the next eight days. I was on a flight from Istanbul to Singapore on March 3. Apparently, a fellow traveler developed COVID-19 symptoms on the flight. The government began contact tracing to identify those who had close contact with the passenger, issuing quarantine orders. They tracked me down.”

Aside from the personal impact, Ward goes on to share the frustration of watching teams sent home and cancelling a major event that had taken months of resources and planning. With gracious transparency, he teases out a moment of clarity:

“Beyond the inconvenience the Coronavirus has created for me, it is also causing me to rethink what effective Christian leadership looks like.

I used to think an effective leader set a plan and then implemented that plan no matter what circumstances arose. Thinking through scenarios that could derail the plan and creating contingencies were essential leadership practices. If unforeseen events occurred and derailed the plan — well then, the leader must not have planned well enough.

But no one saw the Coronavirus coming. My best-laid plans were shipwrecked.

Ward goes on to share the keen awareness that,

“Planning is harder in the majority world than in the developed world. My Christian sisters and brothers in developing contexts have many more variables to consider that can derail their plans. I have enjoyed more stability than the majority of the world’s inhabitants. I repent of my arrogance, for thinking my hyper-planned-out approach to life is superior. I have more grace for my colleagues who keep loving, learning and leading in contexts marked by uncertainty and instability.”

He concludes with a sharp call to new perspective: “the thwarting of strategy is an invitation for God to do a deeper work of character.” (Click here to read Rev. Ward’s piece in its entirety.) What a beautiful posture toward spiritual formation when our best-laid plans go out the window.

When Lent Means Fasting from Easter

Over the weekend I saw comments online wryly expressing that people hadn’t meant to give up quite this much for Lent. Today (March 16), tired pastors woke up to new CDC recommendations for the next eight weeks and realized that Sunday gatherings may be suspended over Easter. When I saw the comments on fasting and Lent, a memory stirred: last spring, Rev. Carolyn Moore asked me to write for her series on the Lordship of Christ, and I sent her “Jesus is Lord of the Valleys,” which expressly calls out what happens to fasting and Lent during upheaval, unpredictability, and loss. I wrote,

“Out of the corner of our eye, we have peripheral awareness of how close to being faith consumers we really are. We choose to go to a conference so we can grow spiritually. We choose to show up to Bible study so we can grow spiritually. We choose to read a book so we can cry or become more efficient or grow spiritually.

We choose.

We choose the parameters of our growth. Where we next discern/feel/think that God is leading us. What we will “give up” for Lent. The problem is the insidious mindset that is entangled in our approach to faith: that we set the table, invite the guests, and choose the menu of our own spiritual growth. That we can choose what outcomes we want to see in our spiritual life. That we control how we want to be made Christlike. Lent changed from practices I chose to something outside my control, and I didn’t like it.

God allowed my chosen self-denial to be replaced with real desperation. I can’t guarantee you stability in this life. I can’t guarantee you won’t face tragedy. I can witness to the goodness of God, though…”

When the shape of spiritual formation is taken out of our hands – what is left? Grabbing onto Christ, proclaiming the goodness of God.

COMMUNITY SOUL POSTURE

Shared Prayer Guide for the Coronavirus Season

As we see the season of Lent turned inside-out, one way to witness to the goodness of God is through the discipline of shared prayer. Early on Rev. Pete Grieg shared a prayer resource as a community guide for praying about the impact of Covid-19. At the time, the likelihood of Coronavirus disruption had barely punctured American consciousness, but Grieg is quite in touch with global developments – the 24/7 prayer movement he helped to found stretches around the world. What seemed a bit early was, in retrospect, very timely: a lesson in itself perhaps. (Checking the calendar, “a bit early” in reality was just a week and a half ago.) Here is an excerpt:

“JEHOVAH SHALOM, Lord of Peace, we remember those living in Coronavirus hotspots. May they know your presence in their isolation, your peace in their turmoil and your patience in their waiting. Prince of Peace, you are powerful and merciful; let this be their prayer – ‘May your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need. Help us, God our Saviour, for the glory of your name.’ (Ps 79:8)

JEHOVAH RAPHA, God who heals, we pray for all medical professionals dealing daily with the intense added pressures of this crisis. Grant them resilience in weariness, discernment in diagnosis, and compassion upon compassion as they care. We thank you for the army of researchers cooperating towards a cure – give them clarity, serendipity and unexpected breakthroughs we pray. Rise Sun of righteousness, above this present darkness with healing in your rays. You are powerful and merciful; may this be our prayer – ‘Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you.’ (Jer 32:17)

(Click here for downloadable slides for the entirety of this excellent prayer guide to use in community prayer – even if praying together occurs in virtual worship, and not in person.)

Spiritual Formation Lived in Shared Membership Vows

For congregations, Rev. Andy Stoddard reinforces community spiritual formation through the lens of membership vows, organizing congregational communication and resources through prayers, presence, gifts, service, and witness, with resources linked in each. He writes,

“There’s an old hymn of the church that reminds us: “The church is not a building; the church is not a steeple; the church is not a resting place; the church is a people.” We all believe that, we all know that, but in a season of “social distancing” it can be really hard for us to remember what it means to be connected. That, in many ways, is my worst fear. We need each other. And we need the church. The church will continue to be at work, and we each can continue to do our part, and remember vows that we made on joining the church. In this time, in this moment, we continue to need God and need each other. I love our memberships vows, and I believe that in this time, as we keep faithful with our prayers, presence, our gifts, our service, and our witness, these vows will hold us together more and more. I want to share some useful resources that can help you and me live into our calling in this and every season. This will be a growing list in the days to come.”

What a great way to order posture for the days to come: to remind people of who they are, what they have committed together, and who the church will continue to be.

When Prudence and Cooperation Are Spiritual Formation: Wisdom from the Congo

Often community is pictured locally; but people of faith constantly affirm the unity of the global church. We are part of a local-global connection tying us to believers around the world. We all follow Jesus: it’s that simple.

While weighing the challenges of Coronavirus-related restrictions, Rev. Beth Ann Cook reached out to a clergy friend from the Democratic Republic of Congo; he has pastored people, “in the midst of war, economic and political unrest, and a cholera epidemic.” She expressed, “I was so very grateful to be able to ask, ‘what do I do?’” He responded,

“In such a situation we ask people not to panic but to be prudent.

Help people as Christians to turn our faces to God in prayer and ask for his wisdom to face the situation.

Mobilize the community and congregation to follow instructions given by health authorities.

Develop an excellent communication network.”

The posture suggested by a pastor who has led during war, economic dives, and cholera? Be prudent rather than panic; help people turn to God in prayer and to pray for God’s wisdom; use influence in your region and congregation to follow health authorities; and invest in a strong communication network.

If energy spent in helping people to be a non-anxious, careful presence or promoting health authority protocol seems separate from spiritual formation, it’s not. Centuries ago, the Apostle Paul wrote to Christ followers on the edge of the Mediterranean, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

As we form and grow, Paul – and a pastor from the Congo – remind us of the value of practicing mental habits and choices that the Holy Spirit can empower and illumine: in the middle of difficult circumstances, we can take joy, let gentleness be evident to everyone, resist the nagging call of anxiety, and in every situation, present our requests to God through prayer with gratitude. These postures are both individual and communal, hammered out personally and corporately.

In Matthew 22, we read, “Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not?” But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, “You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?” “Caesar’s,” they replied. Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”

Building a posture of humility includes mindfulness about Christians’ presence and witness in “the public square.” In times of outbreak, a response of simple humility might be, “of course we may have the right to do something, but we love our neighbors with the sacrificial love God has shown for all of us, and our actions must not ever be only about our own interests, real or perceived. And for the sake of our congregation and our community, we happily submit to anything that does not require us to deny Christ. We can easily worship Christ in our homes just as easily as we can in one building. We have nothing to fear by worshiping at home and serving safely wherever we can.”

The Discomfort of Spiritual Growth in an Outbreak: Wisdom from the 1500’s

About two weeks ago, Wesleyan Accent shared an adapted piece written during the Ebola outbreak, on Martin Luther’s pastoral responses to contagion in the form of the plague. People of faith don’t only have global connections during crisis; we affirm in the Creed, “we believe in the communion of saints…” The Body of Christ stretches across space and time and sometimes there is wisdom to be found from voices through the centuries.

“Even if people are accustomed to relative health and ease – or especially if they are – it is impossible to insulate any life from certain realities: illness, vulnerability, lack of control, mortality. Pastoral care during outbreaks is in part the quiet calming of deep existential fears usually ignored, avoided, or drowned out by many people in the Western world.

In addition to taking sensible precautions and exercising common sense and good cheer, we can outfit ourselves with wisdom from church history. Perspective is never so valuable as in a time of panic, warranted or unwarranted or somewhere in between. So let’s inoculate ourselves against denial, on one hand, and fear, on the other, with a visit to the Book of Common Prayer and a cantankerous German monk, Martin Luther.”

Luther gives counsel on the shape of prayer in the face of contagion; he offers frank advice on the social and ethical responsibilities of serving others if it puts you at risk; and he comments on pragmatic angles of dying well – a deeply ignored element of spiritual formation in the U.S. Despite the difference in what we now know of disease spread, a great deal of his insight translates remarkably well – and sometimes with unexpected kindness toward those who feel themselves faltering.

A Note to Tired Pastors

There are times that church leaders are tempted to grow discouraged; we know how much energy ministry can take when things are going well; will people turn toward their faith if there is no Sunday gathering, if the activity calendar suddenly goes silent? But activity and spiritual growth are two different things.

The question of whether people will grow or wilt may be thrown into clearer relief when business as usual is disrupted; but it’s not a new question, it’s an old question. And there is nothing that pastors have ever been able to do to guarantee that the people who often sit in the pews will push deeper into their faith in moments of chaos.

Fear that people will fall away from church because a time of outbreak occurs is the same fear that a person will fall away from faith because of a cancer diagnosis. We cannot inoculate believers from loss, challenge, or hardship. Some people may have casually engaged with faith communities, and they will become more invested, more active – they may even discover a call to ministry through this time. Others may have casually engaged with faith communities, and they will become less invested, less active – their belief may diminish in the face of self-preservation or trauma.

In your work to strengthen communications, encourage prudence over panic, support health initiatives, and lead into deep and regular prayer, be at peace. Do your best to support spiritual formation in the face of quarantine, and trust that while the congregation may look different when all is said and done, you will have new and more reasons to witness to the goodness of God than you can imagine right now. The well-being of your congregation and community is not all on your shoulders; so commit with boldness to stretches of rest, and let your spirit be formed.