His Name was Wild Bill

Our community was blessed with the presence of a man named Wild Bill. For two years, Bill was a regular: at times hugging, loving and wise; at times drunk, incomprehensible, and loud.

That was Bill. When he was with us, really with us, our community was enriched with knowing the love of Christ through Bill. When he wasn't fully present, our community was enriched by having to share that love of Christ with someone who wasn't always so lovable.

Wild Bill had lived on the streets of Chattanooga, under a bridge, for more than a dozen years. It boggles my mind and stretches my heart to think about all that means. He survived a dozen winters, outside. He slept under a bridge, with cars whizzing by, over his head. He camped with friends, who he called brothers, developing relationships of interconnectedness deeper than many of us ever will know.

I first met Wild Bill, who told me that was his name, at Southside Abbey's worship on a Friday evening. Soon after, I was doing my best to make him feel welcome at Southside Abbey and I kept introducing him to people as Bill. He stopped me: “My name is Wild Bill.” As our relationship grew, I asked him: “Why Wild Bill and not just Bill?” He told me, “of all the children my mother had, I was the wildest, so she called me Wild Bill.” He let that sink in for a most pregnant pause, before he let me in on the joke – he was an only child. That was Bill, excuse me, Wild Bill. Full of love, ready with a smile or a joke.

We've been working with Wild Bill to get his back Social Security Disability. He had injured himself years ago, walking up the large concrete incline that led to his “home.” Several surgeries later, he told me that he, “couldn't get through the metal detector at the courthouse.” This was one of the the many things that had slowed down Wild Bill's progress in navigating the bureaucratic waters of Social Security. I'd like to think we were close to actually making a breakthrough.

A few Fridays ago, Wild Bill blessed us with his presence one last time. He arrived at Southside Abbey and as I went to shake his hand, he pushed my hand out of the way and flung his arms around me. As he did, I could smell the alcohol. This wasn't new for Wild Bill, but our rule is: drunk is okay (not ideal, but okay), belligerent is not. Wild Bill was never belligerent.

He left worship a little early to get back “home” to his bridge, before it got too cold. The cold bothered Wild Bill, especially the metal rods in his leg and back. He died that night – crossing the highway above his bridge in the cold and the rain – Wild Bill was hit by a car.

The weeks that have followed have seen little change in Chattanooga. One bridge in town is without its Wild Bill. He died without fanfare. No legislation to change or end homelessness. No crowd-sourcing or fundraising in memorial. As I start to wonder if anything will really change because of Wild Bill, I realize that I have been changed, our Southside Abbey community has been changed, and I think of all those lives that were touched by knowing Wild Bill.

This season of Advent, we wait expectantly for the coming of Christ. We remember Christ, coming to us as the most vulnerable and we await Christ's Reign, where God's will is known and done on earth as it is in heaven. Many of us in the Episcopal Church can fool ourselves into thinking that we're already there, or at least pretty close to the Kingdom of God in its fullness, that progress has made things better for everyone. Our lives are pretty great. I, myself, enjoy my gluten-free bread at $5 a loaf.

But we're not all there yet.

There are still some places of wilderness out there, places that have wild people, people like Wild Bill. I used to think that it was the Church's job to save people like Wild Bill, but it may just be that they are saving us. Happy Advent from those still waiting.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on December 22, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

In All Things, Give Thnaks [Sic]

Nope, it's not a typo.

The pressure is on us, those of us attempting to follow Jesus, and it's a performance pressure. The World and the Church are watching and both institutions are all too ready to fire the initial servo at us when we get it wrong.

I really enjoy Richard Rohr's daily meditations. Recently, he argued we have a lot to learn from the twelve step traditions, especially the way they approach spiritual formation and maturation. The Church, aligned with the imperial culture of the Western, has taken a top-view of these issues, rather than a bottom-view. We are trying to work our way up into spiritual health and wellness, when dwelling in Christ at the bottom might be more Christ-like in approach. Rohr muses that it is, “as if Christianity has been saying, 'We have the perfect medicine for what ails you: grace and mercy. But the only requirement for receiving it is never to need it!'” As our former Theologian-in-Residence, Nik Forti, wrote in our crowd-sourced piece for ECF's Vestry Papers, “The Church isn't called to serve the poor. The Church is called to be the poor.”

But back to “Thnaks.” Giving Thnaks is on mind this season. A few Thanksgivings ago, a friend of mine sent me a picture of the marquee sign of a little baptist church just up the road from us. In the South, we revel in these signs and hope for the best. Occasionally, we are not disappointed. These signs will have something profound or funny to impart, like:

Read the Bible – It Will Scare the Hell Out of You

God Wants Full Custody, Not Weekend Visitation

Remember, Even Moses Started Out as a Basket Case

Do Not Judge Others Because They Sin Differently Than You

God Expects Spiritual Fruit, Not Religious Nuts

To Those Who Robbed Us, We Forgive You

There are Some Questions that Can't Be Answered by Google or Siri

What's Missing from CH__CH?

Honk if You Love Jesus. Text While Driving if You Want to Meet Him

But this little church in the aforementioned picture, had the words on their marquee: “In All Things, Give Thnaks!” I laughed a little at first and then I felt bad for doing so. Here is a church giving thanks as they are able, proclaiming to the world where they are and where they want to be. How many of us engage in such heartfelt evangelism? How many of us make ourselves vulnerable to the ridicule of the world? How many of us take ourselves just a little too seriously?

I'm aware that this is a time of year of thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is central to who we are as Eucharistic people (it's what that word means after all). We are not called to put on perfect lives for the benefit of friends and neighbors. We are not called to tacit deeds of charity to help the so-called “less fortunate.” We are not called to wear the mask of perfection. We are called to be thankful for our imperfection.

This holiday season, I invite you to join me in living a little more eucharistically, a little more thankful that God chooses such imperfect ways to reach us – oil, salt, the land, water, bread, and wine. And as you are shopping, fulfilling your holiday obligations, and spending time with those you love, those you like, and the increasingly rare intersection of the two, remember: “In All Things, Give Thnaks!”

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on December 17, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

The Best Teachers Money Can't Buy

I've been in school a lot. This is not self-promotion. I'm not trying to say what a great, studious priest I am, as is plainly evident to anyone who reads what I write. I just mean in my thirty-six years on the planet, I cannot remember a time when I am not in school. I hold three advanced degrees and am close to two more. Again, don't be impressed. I spent seven-and-a-half years in undergraduate education. I also like to have a lot of fun. Despite all this schooling, I'm not a a scholar.

But no place are the deficiencies in my vast education more evident than at Southside Abbey. Those experiencing homelessness and hunger on the Southside of Chattanooga don't care that I've got letters after my name. Their needs are far more immediate than that.

And so, as it turns out, are mine.

I have written before about how my faith has been changed by the faith of those I serve. I remember vividly the interaction of a man experiencing homelessness for twelve years who handed me a money order for $250 – the exact amount we budgeted for weekly food at the time. I was so worldly I tried to talk him out of it. He said, “Don't take this gift away from me! I want to buy dinner for my friends this week!” Hmm. Clearly I still had a lot to learn about faith.

And it turns out, I still do.

A few weeks ago, we saw one of our regulars at worship on Friday night. He had been away for several weeks and I was starting to worry about him. Also, he lived in an abandoned building that was recently torn down. So, I was more than relieved to see him. As I was talking to him, I noticed that he was a little scuffed up and had more than the typical bruises. Like any good seminary-educated-pastor, I asked him, “Where've you been? We've been missing you.”

He told me that he had been in the hospital, because he had been thrown off a bridge where he was staying. He also told me that the two guys who did it added insult to injury by stealing all his stuff as he lay there injured. Then he dropped quite a bombshell... The two guys who perpetrated this dastardly act were in worship with us that evening at Southside Abbey. They were withing twenty or thirty feet of this conversation as it was happening! I went into papa-bear mode and wanted to know who did this to our friend. He wouldn't tell me no matter how I pressed. Then he laid it all out:

“I can't tell you who they are, because I know you and you'd ask them to leave. I don't want them to leave, because they need Jesus just as much as I do.”

They need Jesus just as much as I do. That's faith. I don't lament my formal education by any stretch of the imagination – clearly I've loved every expensive minute of it. But now, I've got some new teachers, and they're the best teachers money can't buy.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on November 11, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Moments of Grace

Southside Abbey is a small church. We can't offer much in the way of pomp and spectacle. (Unless by spectacle you mean chaos). We rent our space, and so we worship around art that is not necessarily religious. The nightmarish teddy-bear with claws comes to mind as a prime example. It can be a bit noisy, and yet, even with the noise, the artistic oddities, and the unpredictable people, there are moments of striking beauty and grace. In fact, these moments are essential to Southside Abbey. They are our ministry. A bunch of strange people get together and there are little hints that life could be another way. Maybe God is Love. Maybe Jesus is the Lord of the Cosmos. Maybe we should actually do what Jesus tells us.  Maybe we are saved by grace. Maybe we are all forgiven. It isn't always spoken, but you can see it, if you have eyes to see.
Here are some moments that have struck me:

Sudanese children blessing the eucharistic host with the priest

An ex-convict, ex-motorcycle gang enforcer leading worship

Lutherans, Episcopalians, and dis-enchanted Baptists singing in unison

Praying over pizza crust to become our communion bread

A drunk asking for quiet during the sermon

Repeatedly reminding a man with a traumatic brain injury that he is, in fact, one of the saints of God

A formerly Mormon wild-woman bringing the cookies every week

A sermon from a quiet and kind policeman asking us to reflect on how we respond to suffering


You can't make this stuff up.
What are some moments of grace that have struck you?

A Mission of Relationship

I find myself thinking about relationship lately.  We live in this world that increasingly allows us to choose our communities and ignore the people who live near us or who challenge us.  I have been teaching and preaching on the Johannine Epistles and the Gospel of John.  I am inspired by Jesus’ initial engagement with followers as he first invites would be partners-in-ministry to, ‘come and see,’ (John 1:39 and following).  This is how ministry with the Christ begins, as an opportunity to come and see; to move into relationship. I have wondered about what such a command/invitation to relationship might mean for practical ministry and mission in Chattanooga and in my community.

What would our ministry and common life look like if we simultaneously followed the example of Jesus, inviting others to ‘come and see,’ while at the same time following the command of Jesus to come and see what Christ is doing in and through others.  What if we became a missional people who majored in relationship and only supported that with money? What if we began to believe that what we have to give is not from our power, or our money, or our ideas, or our strengths, but instead from our very selves?  What if our mission was to become vulnerable to others, a mission of relationship, community, and reconciliation?  

I think this would mean creating the opportunity and space to eat with, hear the stories of, and share our own stories with those who find themselves ostracized from us and from each other. I believe that the Missio Dei (mission of God) is partly expressed in the redeeming work of building community by connection in vulnerability.  The examples of the life of Jesus are centered on sharing: meals, experiences, ministry, worship, and conversation, all with striking vulnerability.  Jesus gave up everything to be in relationship with his human community.

A mission of relationship is about life changing engagements, about finding the Divine in the face of those who we are estranged from.  Lower socio-economic school aged youths might encounter parents, educators, and college students.  Fathers behind on child support (some 50% of those court mandated in TN) would enjoy conversation with parents struggling to understand their children.  The refugee from Sudan might share a meal with an undocumented immigrant working at a local chicken plant.  Those struggling with mental illness might find companionship in an alcoholic/addict.  The over worked, over committed business woman might find herself in the life of a homeless person. Conservative/evangelicals might explore God's identity and work in the world with progressive Protestants.  The services that might be provided: tutoring, social work, mental health care, 12 step, housing, food, outreach, worship, are all secondary to and a result of relationship.

What is the Church?

Let's start by defining what we do not mean.

1. The Church is not the building
Many folks would assume that the church is the building. Many folks would be wrong.
A body without blood ceases to be a body. It is a corpse.

2. The Church is not the people
There are those who think that church is whenever their buddies get together and pray a bit. They may have a point, for Christ is present, but they are also missing out on a lot: eg. the Eucharist.

3. The Church is not the institution
It is foolishness to conflate God's redeeming work in the world with human power structures. Such confusion causes people to claim that their denomination, and their denomination only, is the true church. The Holy Spirit is not beholden to any organizational chart or doctrinal point. The wind blows where it will.

So there we have it. The church is not those things.
However, we should also define what we mean by church.

1. Sometimes the church is the building
Or put better, churches are places. A building isn't necessary, but a place is. People live in place and place shapes our spirituality. In that same vein, art and architecture shape our spirituality. Having a beautiful building in which to worship God means something. It means that we associate God with beauty. It meant something when God told the Israelites to worship him in a tent. It meant God can be worshipped anywhere. Place matters.

2. Sometimes the church is the people.
In prayer, in the ministry of their daily work done well, in the love of their neighbors, in their care for the poor, the people in the pews act as the body of Christ in the world. This is where the rubber meets the road. It is one thing to love all of humanity, abstractly and safely. It is another thing entirely to love the person next to you.

3. Sometimes the church is the institution
If there are no sacraments, if there is no process for ordaining leaders, if there is no tradition, no carryover between generations, no capacity to meet the needs of the community, then you may not be involved in the church. It is mostly likely a dysfunctional bible study. Organization brings stability, and stability keeps people safe. God likes that sort of thing. It gives him something to work with: eg. the ordinary means of grace.

So the church is not these things, but the church is definitely these things. The church is a mysterious intersection between the people, the place, and the institution that is somehow more than the sum of its parts. It's a mystery, and you can bet the Holy Spirit has got something to do with it.

Now some rational types may be complaining at this point, ''C'mon, I can't throw a rock without hitting another so-called 'mystery' in Christianity." The rational types can chew on those rocks for all the good it will do them. Reality is mystery. Truth rests on paradox. And the beauty in that reality is that it releases us from determinism. Logic won't let us see all the way to the end of where this whole cosmic endeavor is going. Love maybe, but not logic.

Social Media: Who Are We Promoting?

I've been thinking and writing recently about social media. Two posts ago, I mentioned that when I go places to speak, I am asked – and it is assumed – that we have social media guidelines in place at Southside Abbey. Well, no we don't. What we do have – when we are at our best, which is not always – are how to treat one another guidelines. We all have access to these guidelines in the life and ministry of Jesus and his followers and the prayers that shape our corporate lives.

A lot of social media conflict that I have seen fits into a question that I consider a lot: Would you rather be right or would you rather be in relationship? Much of the conflict on social media occurs between folks who want to be right, often at the cost of relationship.

Social Media is still young. We might even think about as having some maturation ahead. We are coming from an internet of anonymity, to posts with real-life repercussions. Maybe we've all got some growing up to do in this arena.

At Southside Abbey, we are about growing spiritual maturity (which requires social maturation). This is a good time to consider our social media posts with another question: Who are we promoting? Are we promoting ourselves, our parishes, or Jesus. These things are not necessarily mutually exclusive, but the pictures and posts that point to our savior are the ones that disarm in the best of ways.

Posts are tied to language, so we want to be careful there. At Southside Abbey, we have banned the words “help” and “outreach,” because for our community, these are words that can reactivate the pain of the great one-way exchange of the church and those “helped” by the church. We tend toward words like advocate and share that point to the fact that we are in this together. These words of terror might be different for your community. Have some fun with the discernment of these words as a spiritual exercise that can inform you social media flow of information.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on August 21, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Social Media in Times of Crisis

It happened two weeks ago today, at the time I send this for publication, and I still can't believe it. An armed gunman opened fire on United States military recruiting offices in our town of Chattanooga.

I think a lot about my identity as a priest in the church. Let's call that discernment. One of my thoughts is that, in some ways, I am in the business of believing. I try live my life in such a way – believing so “loudly” in peace, love, family, relationships, and God – that hopefully others are drawn to that way of life. At least, that's my working theory. So to write that I cannot believe something is tough for me. In the weeks I have had to reflect, I think what I cannot believe the most is tragedies like these are always happening somewhere in our country.

According to an article in the Washington Post), there have been as many mass shootings in the United States this year as there have been days so far this year. That's what I cannot believe. My two hometowns – the one where I was born and the one where I live now – are Charleston, SC, and Chattanooga, TN – were both hit a month apart. News coverage can paradoxically simultaneously draw attention to the sensationalistic aspects of while shortening our memories of the events' impacts on the lives of those left in the wake of senseless violence. It can all get to be too much some times.

But I got to witness something recently. In the aftermath, our city, Chattanooga – still fragmented by the aftereffects of segregation and institutionalized racist policies – is trying to come together... and it is happening through social media.

Not long after the attacks, the hashtag (#chattanoogastrong) started showing up on posts and pictures from our town and in support of our town from all over the world. And I want to believe. I don't want to go to my dark, Generation X, cynical place. I don't want to think about the ways that this sentiment will be used to sell us stuff, or “prove” some side is right, or anything like that.

I want to believe that this will be the thing that changes all the things. I want to believe that our state – which not-too-long-ago changed laws to allow for guns in corporate worship, giving new meaning to the phrase “The 'piece' of the Lord” – can change. I serve the Prince of Peace, THE thing that changes ALL things. I want to believe that this will spark a church-wide grass-roots movement where we can talk about race, reconciliation, and guns.

Will this be the tipping point? I want to believe, I am, after all, in the business of believing, but my believing won't make change. Social media has proven its ability to affect real change. It has strengthened relationships, it has changed policies, it has shamed corporations into doing the right thing, and it has even toppled governments. Is it possible the Holy Spirit can move through this moment and this medium?

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on August 5, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Social Media & Face-to-Face: What Works for Us

I have been booked several times now to speak about Social Media in the Church. Friends and family who know me well find great humor in this, as do I. Asking me to speak at a conference on social media is a bit like asking a videotape to parse Latin sentences in the presence of ocelots.

When I am booked for such work, I try to talk the person booking me out of it. The truth is: I am not a big social media person. This is when the person booking me tells me that she or he is up against a deadline or that really they just wanted to hear Southside Abbey stories and their only free slot was in this social media. This is not to say that I do not think Social Media is important, because I do. I really, really do. The Apostle Paul used all the media at his disposal: he talked to people, he spoke in public (sometimes in chains), and he wrote letters. We have to be using every type of media at our disposal too.

Let me explain. Southside Abbey has a fair number of people who do not have cell phones or computers or anything like that as an ever-present part of their lives. This may be due to social location, geographic location, educational location, or temporal location, but it is there as a reality. We also have a fair number of people who post a lot of pictures, quotes, videos, articles, and the like. These two groups have kept me from 1) relying on social media for communication with our entire body and 2) kept me from learning a lot about social media because I am surrounded by people who like to do engage that way and who do it a lot better.

This may sound like a digression, but one of the things that I have been asked for more than once is a set of Social Media guidelines. When I have asked as a followup, it is because Southside Abbey's facebook presence (Group for locals and Page for the diaspora) has so far been free from back-and-forth arguments that plague some churchy digital domains.

I can't give what I don't have, but I do have noticed some trends that work for us. My first and foremost rule is that email is for factual transmission only. If an email is as long as this blog post, the information contained therein is probably better shared over a cup of ice cream or the telephone.

The second trend ties deeply to what we are about at Southside Abbey in terms of formation. We do a lot of leadership development, in tandem with working toward spiritual maturity. Social maturity is a prerequisite to both of these, so we work on social maturity too. This work is paying off in our digital space, but may have as much to do with who we are promoting: not ourselves or our way of doing things, but Jesus.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on July 22, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Innovative Leadership Rounds Explained

Perhaps I got ahead of myself with my last blog post. It happens. I am often guilty of: “Ready. Fire. Aim.” In mentioning the Minnesotans' trip to Southside Abbey, I mentioned the Innovative Leadership Rounds, without really unpacking what that program is.

First, the Innovative Leadership Rounds program is made possible by the generosity, support, and faithfulness of the Episcopal Church Foundation's Fellowship Partners Program. For those who had not heard, I am humbled and honored to be named a Fellow for 2015. I am humbled and honored beyond words, which is rare for me – to be without words, that is.

This reality calls to mind the speech the character Kevin makes at the end of an episode of the television show, The Office. Kevin, who is not known for his knowledge or wisdom, is part of a team that has just won a trivia competition. Upon reflection, he offers: “Look, I know it's easy to say tonight was just a fluke, and maybe it was. But here's a piece of trivia: A fluke is one of the most common fish in the sea, So if you go fishing for a fluke, chances are... you just might catch one” (The Office, “Trivia”). That's some deep theological stuff right there. How often are we in the presence of the Holy Spirit, present in the ordinary, and we just miss it?

In short, ECF has been gracious enough to see the Holy Spirit present in the work that Southside Abbey is doing and supportive enough to offer that work as a resource to others engaged in similar work around the Church. This is what the Innovative Leadership Rounds program, which is funded by the Fellowship, is all about.

The Innovative Leadership Rounds are based medical rounds, which demonstrate the best analysis and treatment of real patients to groups of physicians, as these patients personally share their stories. Observing, sharing, and inquiring in groups can teach more than one-sided lectures or presentations. The Innovative Leadership Rounds Project will invite missional church lay and clergy leaders to participate in Rounds with other like-minded leaders from across the Episcopal (and Lutheran) Church.

The Church will tangibly benefit by having leaders developed and learning documented and disseminated. The Rounds project could be a resource for dioceses contemplating starting missional communities, or in early stages of such work. Leadership of dioceses not yet engaged in this kind of work might even be more supportive of an emerging community with an established model and program, like Southside Abbey and the Rounds project.

In a broader sense, the Church will benefit by having more current clergy and lay leaders thinking missionally and communally about spreading the good news of Jesus. People who haven’t traditionally been raised up as leaders will also have an opportunity to participate in the growth and future of the Church, benefitting creativity, diversity, and strength.

Southside Abbey is not the model of the Episcopal Church moving forward. We are a model. The Rounds project is mutual learning. Hopefully the Episcopal Church can learn much from Southside Abbey and the communities with whom we partner. Look for the fruit of this labor to be shared on Southside Abbey's website under our Open Source tab in the coming year, as well as continued sharing through ECF's Vital Posts.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on June 23, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

The Minnesotans are Coming! The Minnesotans are Coming!

Well, they actually have already come, and gone. One of the blessings of being an ECF Fellow for 2015 is the opportunity that it affords Southside Abbey to grow with other communities that will come visit us as part of the Innovative Leadership Rounds Program. Our time with the Minnesotans was a pilot of that program, graciously put together by Missioner Steve Mullaney and the Episcopal Church in Minnesota.

Nine Minnesotans descended upon Chattanooga's Southside late Thursday evening. I don't know what any of us thought would happen, but I can share what did happen. Somewhere along the way the Holy Spirit showed up for each one of us.

While it certainly helps that Steve brought a fantastic group of faithful followers of Jesus with him, I know that this special weekend is one that I will treasure for a long time to come, as it continues to feed me days later.

This time together was an opportunity to learn from one another. We at Southside Abbey were able to share with our new friends what we are doing, while at the same time seeing Southside Abbey's mission and ministry through fresh eyes.

During our time together: We ate, we prayed, we shared our hopes for the trip, we slept, we went on a “reality bus tour” of Chattanooga's Southside, we ate, we met immigrants and those experiencing homelessness, we shared Christ's table with them at H♥ART Gallery, we ate, we jubilee-ified (now a word) a laundromat – providing quarters, pizza, soap, and hope, we were part of house blessing of a man who had lived on the streets for more than a dozen years, we ate, we worshiped in “traditional” Episcopal ways, we worshiped in “non-traditional” Episcopal ways, we shared stories, we talked, we processed, we ate, we wrote a compline liturgy together (which still requires some editing and permissions, but will soon be up on Southside Abbey's website under the “Open Source” tab), we sang, we prayerfully walked the neighborhood, and we said “see you later.”

Most importantly, during our time together we got to know one another and ourselves, deeply. Our community was formed so strongly that tears were shed when we said goodbye. It felt like camp before cell phones or video games if that makes any sense at all.

One of my favorite phrases to come out of the weekend was uttered by Southside Abbey's Claire LePage. Claire, along with her brother Graham (who happens to be Southside Abbey's lay missioner), grew up in Kenya. As such, she got to see a lot of “mission trips” from the point of view of those who stay behind after the mission trip is over. Claire reminisced that: “the weekend offered everything that a mission trip is supposed to do, but rarely ever does. It built real relationships that will last and we all learned from one another.”

I'm excited to share here a small part of the collaborations that the Innovative Leadership Rounds will bring. The Tennesseans invade Minnesota in the fall...

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on June 10, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Take a Chance: This is Opportunity Time!

Sometimes the Holy Spirit can be inconvenient. There we are going about our lives when, bam! Something happens. I easily produce list after list of the rotten stuff, but that's not for this venue. Besides, often the rotten stuff turns out to be the foundation for living into a new creation. The list that is much harder for many of us to populate is the list of those “bam” moments when we are blindsided by the Holy Spirit and the possibility that death really does not have the last word.

But what about the ordinary? I love the dual nature of the word ordinary. Ordinary, as in the everyday or commonplace and, as in that which is set apart (same root as ordained). God can use the ordinary, yes even our ordinary stuff. In Southside Abbey's small groups, we engage the spiritual maturity muscles. These are required to build a practice of thankfulness for all that “was, and is, and is to come.”

Why might I be writing about these things? I am awakening to the possibility that stuff is not nearly as bad as we thought, that God is still using the ordinary. As I mentioned in my last post, I was gifted with the opportunity to mold the minds of some students at the School of Theology at Sewanee. I shared with them some of the realities the world is facing and how the church might be impacted or be impactful, and how they, in partnership with the Holy Spirit, have a hand in building a church that is passive or proactive.

I have read that between sixteen and seventeen trillion dollars (yes, trillion, with a “t”) is about to change hands. As the last of the Greatest and Builder generations meet their reward and the Baby Boomers retire, the world will see the largest transfer of wealth, ever. That amount is about what the U.S. owes our creditors, but I digress.

The point is: this is opportunity time! The Episcopal Church is primed. We are not a Johnny-come-lately, say-what-we-think-people-want-to-hear-so-we-can-draw-them-in, splash-in-the-pan outfit. No. Society is catching up to us. We have been on the forefront on issues of civil rights, gender equality, and sexuality. Don't get me wrong, we still have lots of work to do here, especially on issues of those who are differently-abled and those who are poor. But, we are standing on a foundation of centuries of theology, scholarship, prayer, and relationships.

I took much from my time with those seminarians, many of whom are young, really young. I, for one, am really excited about their ministry. What great and wonderful things does the Holy Spirit have in store for the church that they will lead?

I have seen it in practice in the microcosm already. Ministries, parishes, and dioceses that have taken a chance on someone who is totally unqualified, by traditional standards, to lead them are rockin'! Which leads me to to wonder: just who is qualified to do this work? To lead in this movement we are required to believe in the impossible, love the unloveable, be present where most people would not be bothered. We give away everything we are given. We rely not on our own understanding. Who better to do that than a bunch of kids?

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on April 30, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Maybe It's Not So Bad Out There

It has been a few weeks since my last post. I have been doing that quintessentially Fringe Episcopal Ministry thing: traveling around telling Southside Abbey's story in hopes that money will come our way. While we fell far short of our fund-raising goals, we did deepen some relationships, and that is impossible to put a price tag on. There was also a wonderful side effect, I've come to accept that maybe it's not so bad out there.

Earlier this month, I was blessed to teach a class at the School of Theology at Sewanee and preach at a parish in a Toronto suburb. I don't know what I was really expecting either place. The last time Sewanee was foolish or brave enough to unleash my brand of this-is-how-it-is on their students, I was not invited back for two years. I found that two-year-ago class utterly naïve to, or in denial of, the realities facing the Church.

This year's class was very receptive to my dispatches from the frontline of missional/emergent ministry. They are aware that in the next fifteen years 17 Trillion dollars (with a “T”) will change hands, and the Church is pretty low on the list of where benefactors are distributing said money. The students are aware that the Church is shrinking, as individual churches and as a denomination. They are aware that there are no jobs, especially for those seeking full-time employment. Seminarians know these things and they are there, studying to be priests anyway. They are there, giving themselves to God in service to the Church.

A few short days later, I found myself preaching in front of a parish in the greater metro area of that oh-so-secular city, Toronto, Ontario. Not only will that appearance double my fee for speaking engagements, as I am now internationally-known – 2 x $0 is still $0 – but it also was a great opportunity to visit a country that, by all counts is about a generation ahead of us in terms of Church decline. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at a worship service full of worshipers, Canadian worshipers. I thought that everyone in Canada played soccer on Sunday morning or something like that. Did these people not get the message? Had they not heard that Canada was like Europe and no one goes to Church anymore? Some very friendly Canadians informed me that they had heard these things, but that they were there anyway. Every week they are there, in spite of trends, projections, and statistics. They are there, giving themselves to God in service to the Church.

I don't know about you, dear reader, but Lent was very long for this writer. I needed some Resurrection in my life and this was the Holy Spirit's gift to me this Easter Season, this Season of Resurrection. Maybe it's not so bad out there. Maybe we just have to trust that the Holy Spirit is right in the middle of all that is going on, as the Holy Spirit has been since the Church began. It certainly takes a lot of the pressure off.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on April 23, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.

Three Blogs on Stewardship: #3 "Buy" the Numbers

Okay, so my last post about paid and unpaid, professional and amateur Christians sparked some discussion. I need to be clear about something from the beginning. I am not a cynic. I know that it is tough to discern tone from prose, but am not jaded, fed up, or otherwise done with the Church. In fact, I love the movement that Jesus started. I am spiritually fed by what people would consider “typical” church worship. As we have been clear from the beginning, Southside Abbey is not a move away from anything, but rather a branch of the same limb.

The reality of the numbers is stark. What are the two largest expenses facing every Episcopal church in the land? Property and Personnel. Southside Abbey is a model of another way to be church without a building. Notice I said “a” model, not “the” model. We are providing one solution to the problem of the expense of a building.

Now what about that other expense? Can't you just feel the collective sphincter tightening at the very mention of this issue? In the Episcopal Church, we like our priests. We like to have someone up there we can point to as the expert on God, someone who will interact – on our behalf – with those we don't want to see or know.

Let me break it down in our context. The Diocese of East Tennessee's minimum compensation package for full time employment is $47,000. Church Pension adds eighteen percent, or $8,460. Include (as we must for full time work) health insurance to the tune of $11,148 for the cheapest plan for a couple. Including the life and disability insurance offered by our diocese adds another $1,036. That makes a total of $67,644. If we are to take the Church Pension formula, the math is similarly inflated. Their minimum compensation for full time work is $18,500, which costs $34,014. Now that you know the context, let me put it in perspective.

Southside Abbey's budget for 2014 was $33,811. For that amount we:

• Kept the seasons of the Church Year, engaging in liturgical worship with our community.
• Served over 3,000 meals as part of that liturgical worship.
• Celebrated St. Nicholas' Day with presents & meals for 175 neighborhood children & families.
• Shared 250 pounds of Epiphany pickles as a way to hear our neighbors' stories.
• Shared 400 cups of homemade soup as an excuse to visit retired folks in section 8 housing.
• Gathered over 200 pairs of shoes & socks for the local elementary school on Maundy Thursday.
• Held a chili cook-off with with about forty gallons of chili from members of our community.
• Made over 210 lunches for neighborhood children on fall break, shared at an Oktoberfest.
• Housed a theologian-in-residence who worked with us while obtaining an STM from Sewanee.
• Were brought under the 501(c)(3) umbrella of the Episcopal Church.
• Became a Jubilee Ministry Center of the Episcopal Church.
• Raised nearly $50,000 to be spent on outside ministries as part of the Southside Jubilee Fund.
• Were featured in articles from Christian Century to the Chattanooga Times-Free Press.
• Mentored three Education for Ministry (EfM) groups.
• Trained leaders, forming 4 postulants, 1 aspirant, 2 seminarians & a lots of lay ministers.

We did these things with help, particularly from the Holy Spirit. We also had some terrestrial partners, perhaps too many to mention, but look at what we were able to do with $34,000 – $34,000 that did not include a clergy compensation package! Such a package would either double or triple our budget depending on which “minimum” we can get away with.

This reality is what makes it difficult to “buy” these numbers. I realize that I am an important part of this ministry, but am I really that much more important than all of my brothers and sisters in Christ who follow Jesus just as faithfully but do it at no cost to Southside Abbey? That is what we as a community and I am personally wrestling with. This is a really cool possibility. I just have to be brave enough to say “yes” to the Holy Spirit. Your prayers are most welcome.

This post was originally published on the Episcopal Church Foundation's Vital Practices Vital Posts blog on February 27, 2015. It has been reprinted here with permission.