A Message from the Next Generation

by the Rev. Nancy Christensen, Mission Director, ELCA Southeastern Synod

“Let’s face it: the synod e-news is largely irrelevant. The items posted are mostly ‘fluff,’ and no one reads it anyway.”

This statement was made by a young adult at a recent synod gathering, and my immediate response was, “Yikes.” Is this how people really feel about the communications they receive from our synod office? Are the subscribers to this network wishing for more substance, or for different kinds of information? Are they pushing the “delete” button, rather than reading what is posted? Are blogs (like the one I’m writing now) just a waste of everyone’s time?

It’s easy to feel defensive, as one of the people who regularly provide news and information to these weekly issues. I think I can speak for the whole staff when I say we try hard to use this vehicle to communicate clearly, and often, about those items that we hope are relevant to folks. We also seek out information from countless people throughout the synod, inviting congregations to send material that can be shared, and asking individuals and agencies to contribute items as well.

We do not have a professional marketing and communications department, but we do our best, and we would love to have more contributors! So, it’s easy to feel defensive.

But, I’ve decided to let down my defenses to think about what else might have been behind this statement that would be helpful for me, and for all of us to hear. And, I’ll start with the obvious: the speaker was a young adult.

I am part of the baby boom generation, with four “20-somethings” in my own family. I can’t pretend to completely understand a young adult mindset, and I would not want to make too many generalizations about any section of the population, anyway. But I do notice from the few young adults that reside around me that there is apathy, cynicism, and suspicion about most things “religious.” It’s not a lack of interest in spiritual practice – I sense they all long for real depth and meaning in their lives, and even seek it out – but, rather, it’s a disconnect with the institution of the church that feels “largely irrelevant” to them.

Okay, so that’s no real surprise, right? I remember feeling the same way when I was younger, and I suspect we’ve all gone through this at one time or another. But, I’m not willing to simply dismiss these sentiments as being a “phase” of young adulthood. Mission developers who are intentionally engaging with their communities are reporting that more and more people, of many ages, are expressing this same feeling – that the church doesn’t really matter, to them, or to the world.

So, how can we address these issues and take these perceptions seriously? It begins, I think, with a willingness to let go of some things (even though “we’ve always done it that way”) and to genuinely discern God’s vision, and God’s mission for our church in this time, and in the particular contexts of our lives. It begins with intentionally including new voices in our conversations about ministry: inviting young adults to participate in worship planning, for example, or listening to the real needs of our neighborhoods so that we might reflect those needs in our programs and services, or empowering new leaders to serve and to make decisions in new ways. It begins when we offer authentic opportunities for the development of true discipleship, going deeper than we’ve ever gone before.

It’s not easy, but it’s important work that asks us to be open, inclusive, and faithful as people of God. We can’t allow ourselves to be defensive and dismissive; we must be genuine and realistic about who we are called to be, and to become.

And, as far as our e-news is concerned… well, we have to be constantly challenging ourselves in that, too, and to be making improvements as we go forward. We must always seek to communicate as effectively as possible, and to evaluate both the style and the content for its relevance to all.

I can tell you without any hesitation that anyone who wants to help or who has material to share will be WELCOMED! Please don’t hesitate to contribute your gifts, and to make your voice heard… resist the urge to push “delete” and opt, instead, to work for positive results!

Moralistic Therapeutic Deism? by Michael lippard

Luke 14:25-33 Michael Lippard


A recent study of faith and young people in the United States claims that a new religion is growing in American congregations. The study calls this alternative faith Moralistic Therapeutic Deism, or MTD. Two of MTD’s central beliefs are: “God wants people to be good, nice and fair to each other, as taught in the Bible and by most world religions,” and “The central goal of life is to be happy and feel good about yourself.” The principal investigators for the study say that MTD “may be the new mainstream American religious faith for our culturally post-Christian, individualistic, mass-consumer capitalist society.”

The warm words and soft textures of MTD are appealing, especially in an age when so much venom is spewed in the name of religion. Might MTD eventually delineate new theological boundaries for a less conflicted future, for a rose garden where all faith traditions can coexist peacefully?

Even among post-Christian Christians themselves, maybe not: there are times when Jesus stubbornly refuses to go along with such a program. In Luke 14:25-33, his words are disturbingly cold and sharp. Jesus has extremely high expectations of those who would be his disciples. He issues a caveat emptor, a “let the buyer beware” warning. Before you jump on my bandwagon, he says, you need to stop and count the cost: you may not be willing to pay the price. The only parts of a rose garden Jesus seems to offer here are the thorns!

To follow him, he says you must “hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes and even life itself.” So forget about getting along with other faith traditions when you can’t even get along with your family. There’s nothing nice here. Ouch! To follow Jesus, you must “carry the cross.” Ouch again. At least this doesn’t sound quite as unappealing as hating your family. Certainly carrying a cross is not as terrible as being crucified on one, but you know what happened to Jesus after he carried his. Finally, Jesus says that if you would follow him you must “give up all your possessions.” Ouch, ouch, ouch! That sounds not only unappealing, but impossible. Jesus may not have had many possessions, but he did wear clothes; presumably, they belonged to him. Most Christians seem to find it next to impossible to tithe, to give ten percent of their income to the work of the church, so I think it’s safe to assume that none of us will be giving up all our possessions - at least not until death rips them out of our clutches.

Yet even though there’s no way we can follow the program Jesus describes, more than likely, we consider ourselves to be Jesus’ followers. We follow as best we can, sometimes hesitantly and always imperfectly, because we trust Jesus. We also trust the witness of the gospels, the witness of our families and friends, and the witness of the church through history. We might prefer a rose garden religion of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism; but we know such a faith is not real, nor will it stand up to the tests of real life. So we have to wrestle with Jesus’ words, even when they make us uncomfortable. What is going on in this gospel of thorns? Jesus grew up as a good Jewish boy. He knew the Ten Commandments. One of them commands us to honor our father and mother. How can anybody honor their parents and hate them at the same time? That doesn’t make sense.

First of all, we need to recognize that the issue addressed is not family living, but discipleship. The text is not about hating anyone or anything. You may say you hate spinach, and I may say I love it, but we both probably realize that neither of us has feelings that are quite that strong about a green, leafy vegetable. We are exaggerating to make a point about our preference for a particular food. Luke is also exaggerating to make a point about the demands of discipleship.

Also, in the Bible, hate doesn’t always carry the sense of enmity, animosity and hostility that we associate with it. This is not a call to hatred in an emotional or “psychological sense... Those who become disciples of Jesus must be committed exclusively to Him; they cannot be bound to anyone or anything else. The term ‘hate’ demands the separation of the disciple...” Even so, this is small comfort. Again, Jesus is saying that the cost of following him is extremely high, and we would be wise to consider the cost before we sign on for his mission. The cost of being Christian is discipleship.

The word Christian shows up in the New Testament only three times. The word disciple appears two hundred and sixty-nine times, nearly ninety times as often. Have you ever heard anyone talk about going ninety to nothing? When people say that, it seems to mean they are really on the move, getting things done, busily and earnestly working toward a goal. A ratio of ninety to one is about the same. In the context of the New Testament as a whole and this text in Luke, it would mean that if you want to be a Christian, you need to invest your energy in being a disciple, in being a follower of Jesus. The whole point of being Christian is being a disciple, and that’s a full-time job.

Jesus has more hard words about hate. He says we cannot be his disciples without hating life itself. The word Luke chooses for life is not the Greek word zoe, from which we get our words zoo and zoology. Instead, Luke uses the word psuchae, from which we get words like psyche, psychiatry, psychology and psychotherapy. Psuchae means self, inner life, or soul. That makes Jesus’ words here even more difficult. He is talking about hating or separating from our inner life, our inner self, our soul. The inner life from which Jesus calls us to separate is the one which seeks to find happiness, peace and security in our possessions instead of in following him. Living in relationship with Jesus changes our way of relating to our possessions, and our way of relating to other people, too.

This is a point Dietrich Bonhoeffer makes in The Cost of Discipleship: “the call of Christ brings us as individuals face to face with the Mediator... Between father and son, husband and wife, the individual and the nation, stands Christ the Mediator, whether they are able to recognize him or not. We cannot establish direct contact outside ourselves except through him, through his word, and through our following him... There is no way from one person to another. However loving and sympathetic we try to be, however sound our psychology, however frank and open our behavior, we cannot penetrate the incognito of the other..., for there are no direct relationships, not even between soul and soul. Christ stands between us, and we can only get into touch with our neighbors through him.”

The host at a fancy children’s party walked over to a girl and said: “I believe your little brother is a bit shy. He hasn’t moved from that corner all afternoon.” The girl answered: “He isn’t shy at all. This is the first time he’s had to wear a tie to a party, and he thinks he’s tied to something.”

Luke confronts us with our attachments, with the things to which we think we are tied. Trying to fill our inner, spiritual poverty ourselves doesn’t work. Jesus calls us to accept our spiritual emptiness: that is the cross he wants us to carry. As we open our hands and hearts to his love and grace, we ourselves are released, freed from our desperate clutching for affection and esteem, for safety and security, for power and control. We discover the presence of Christ supporting us. Our weakness gives way to his strength. Without him, we have nothing; with him, we have everything. This is the source from which our inner life - our soul - is nurtured and refreshed. All good things come back to us transformed - family and life itself - through the mediation of the Christ.

FINDING JOY

The Rev. Dr. Beverly Wallace

This will be my last blog entry as Assistant to the Bishop for the Southeastern Synod. It has been at the pleasure of this synod and of God that I have been allowed to serve in this office since the death of my husband Richard Wallace. I would very much like to thank the Southeastern Synod for the space and care even as I offered my gifts and talents in service, first as the Assistant to the Bishop for Pastoral Care for the Katrina Recovery Effort and more recently as Assistant to the Bishop for Candidacy. It has now been five years since Richard’s death and it is a time for change and a time for me to move on. As I have told some folks, I believe God is in this movement because I believe God has other things for me to do. What they are, I am not certain of at this time.

I must admit that these last few months since the announcement was made at Synod Assembly that my position would be eliminated have not been easy for me. Many folks, perhaps not knowing what to say to me, have said nothing thus far. However, even during this period of uncertainty in my life, I have found joy.

What brought me joy was seeing the men and women who stood up at Synod Assembly to be recognized as soon-to-be ordained and rostered leaders in the Lutheran Church. I walked with most of these individuals through candidacy.

What has brought me joy is to see the age and ethnic diversity on the candidacy committee (there is still a need for a white male layperson). When I asked many of them to serve, they did not know that this time would come when they would be doing most of the work of shepherding, mentoring, and caring for those whom God has called to be leaders in this church.

I am still serving as the Interim Director of the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta half-time and I am loving every minute of it, and that brings me joy. I also have the opportunity to teach a Pastoral Care course this semester and that is bringing me joy. What has really bought me joy is to see five candidates sit in a class on Lutheranism in North America – three Korean women, one African man of Oromo background, and one European American man of Norwegian background – as they learn that the history of Lutheranism in North America is a history of immigrants who spoke and worshipped in their own languages; a history that has often been forgotten.

And it has been a joy working with many of the members of the Southeastern Synod and the synod staff. So, even as my position has been eliminated, I can still have joy.

When Bishop Gordy first introduced me to the 2008 Synod Assembly, he prefaced his intro by saying I am one who often raises the questions no one wants to answer. At other times, Bishop Gordy has reminded me that I cannot always be prophetic in this position. As an African American woman, I am called to be prophetic. It is part of my ethic. (I contributed a chapter in the book Transformative Lutheran Theologies – Feminist, Womanist, and Mujerista Perspectives (Fortress Press, 2010) entitled, “Hush No More! Constructing an African American Lutheran Womanist Ethic” where I write about a womanist ethic being prophetic).

I pray that in this position that I have made a difference. I also pray that not only will this church be a little bit different because of the questions that I have raised but also that this synod will be prophetic and not be afraid; raising the clarion, calling for justice, making justice issues a priority, and creating an environment in which all voices and perspectives can be honored and understood for the purpose of doing God’s mission.

So to the members of the Synod, I want to say thank you. It has been a pleasure serving you and serving with you. Indeed, I have found joy.

S D G Soli Deo Gloria

by Pastor Darrel Peterson, ELCA-Southeastern Synod Assistant to the Bishop

A vital message in our Lutheran legacy is the inscription that Johann Sebastian Bach wrote at the end of his music, S D G Soli Deo Gloria (to God alone, the glory). Church musicians will still sometimes include that familiar and profound message at the end of their work. And as I see those three little words, I am grateful that my high school Latin has again been put to good use!

As I make my way among congregations and church leaders these days, it often occurs to me that we are seriously lacking in the perspective that what we are doing in the faith is ultimately about God. There are long discussions about planning and facilitating. Who is in charge of this? How do we want this to be done? Will the people turn out for that? Who will get credit?

Recently in an interview with a pastor considering a congregational transition ministry, I emphasized the importance of asking questions of the people, “Now why is it we are doing this?” and “Where is God leading in this process?” The pastor paused, and said, “It’s refreshing to hear that it is still ‘about God’.”

We all know we live in a “me centered” culture. We want to hear what we agree with. People are likely to go from church to church to find one that shares their personal views and prejudges. Pastors are sometimes caught in the trap of keeping silent to avoid offending. Folks are looking to have their life-styles “blessed”.

So, I suppose the prophetic is out of vogue. Jeremiah “is a bullfrog” will preach, but “Thus says the Lord” may not. Way back in the hootenanny days, John Ylvisaker sang a song making social commentary, with the final line, “And that’s the thing I don’t like about Jesus”. There is a lot of politically correct and “making nice” going on. Do we leave church to go home to hear the real truth from our conservative or liberal politicos and pundits.

And then there is the tension and acrimony in the Lutheran family related to the sexuality issue. “This is the last straw!” “I think it’s time to vote and leave the church”. And some will say, “It’s not really about sex, the church is leaving us with all their liberal decisions”.

So, where is God in all of this? Are we worshiping God, or are we proceeding to socially and politically straddle the middle of the road? When the stories of Jesus are read and reflected on, does his grace and mercy settle on us anew? Are we willing to openly discuss and pray that God will lead? Are we committed to hear the call to love God and and to love our neighbor?

I believe we need to focus on someone that is larger than all the “me’s” out there. Let our worship , whatever it’s style, be genuine. Let us be as open vessels. Let us know that it is about God!

Soli Deo Gloria,
Pastor Darrel Peterson
Assistant to the Bishop

What is the church?

by the Rev. Dr. Delmer Chilton, Assistant to the Bishop of the Southeastern Synod

I was first confronted with this question not in a seminary lecture hall but in a cramped Sunday School room in a tiny Methodist Church in rural North Carolina. I was serving as the "student pastor" of a three church "yoked parish," while attending Duke Divinity School. A young man who had recently graduated from college and come back to the community to teach High School was saying "If we were a real church we would have . . ." At that point I stopped listening. What does he mean "A real church? Of course we're a real church," I fumed.

But I knew what he meant. He meant a "full service" church; one with nursery and youth group and robed choir and men's breakfast and a large fellowship hall and a gymnasium and . . . . , well you can fill in the blanks.

When I got home that night, I went into the church office (which was also our spare bedroom) and I sat down at my desk and pulled down some theology books to help me think about this question, "What is the church?" What do we have to have or be or do to "really" BE the Church of Jesus Christ.

Well, Article 13 of the Methodist Articles of Religion says, the church is where "the pure Word of God is preached and the sacraments duly administered," exactly the same thing the 39 Articles of the Church of England says, which is not surprising since the Methodist Church began within the Anglican Church. And if this sounds familiar, it should, since the framers of the 39 Articles were deeply influenced by the Lutheran movement's Augsburg Confession, which in Article VII says the church is "the assembly of the saints in which the Gospel is purely preached and the sacraments are administered rightly."

Up until that night I probably agreed with that young man that my churches weren't "real churches," not that I would have said it out loud, or used those words to talk about it. But, no matter how I said it, the implication would have been that they were less than they should have been; that they were inadequate and faulty for not being and doing everything that bigger and more moneyed congregations were and did.

I thought of that night and that new understanding this last Sunday as I preached at Crowell's Chapel near Shelbyville, TN. Crowell's was founded in 1825 and in the 185 years since has never been real big.

But it has always been faithful to its primary task: preaching the Gospel and administering the Sacraments. Through wars and droughts and economic turmoil, it has sometimes prospered and sometimes suffered but it has always served. Rooted in a people and a place, it is a continuing presence of the Body of Christ for those around it.

This is what all churches, from the smallest to the largest are called to be and do. It does not matter how big your building is or how active your programs are, if Gospel and sacraments are not at your core, at your center, you are not the church. And it doesn't matter how modest your facility or how sparse your crowds; if Christ is being presented, then Christ is present and you are the Church in that place. Thank you, Crowell's Chapel, for your many years of service and for reminding me of this basic truth.