The Lutheran Zephyr

Why I'm Not Thrilled About that Awesome Wedding Dance Video

It is awesome.  

When I first saw the "JK Wedding Entrance Dance" on YouTube my jaw dropped and I was in awe of this couple's audacity, joy, and ability to dance.  What fun, what creativity, what a celebration.  Though very different than my wedding procession, I saw a joy and happiness in this procession that I felt in my own.

But I'm a pastor, and I couldn't help but ask myself if I would permit a couple and their wedding party to process into the church in this manner, with this music.

No, I wouldn't.

I love the joy and the energy and the dancing.  Indeed, I know that the God who gifted this couple with such love and flair is the same God who blesses their relationship, and that their creative celebration of these divine gifts is itself a manner of praising God (thanks to Rachel, who commented on my Facebook page, for that insight).

But still, my answer is no.

It's not that I think such exuberence is unwarranted in church. In fact, I think we can use a litte more exuberence in our churches (Ryan Howard hits a home run and we cheer. The pastor declares that Christ died for our sins, and we offer a solemn/somber "Amen." Huh?). I believe that our faith is a living faith, our God is a living God, and our community a living witness to the God of new life ... and as such energy, enthusiasm, joy and yes, dancing, have a place in our church's (worship) life.

But still, my answer is no.

There are many things that give us joy - baseball games, board games, fireworks, and yes, good dance tunes - but I'm sure that the generation of joy is not reason enough to include any these things in our church's worship life. The joy we experience when we dance or sing or cheer at a baseball game is truly a gift of God, but that doesn't necessarily make it the stuff of the church's worship.

Every element of our church's worship is designed to help the worshipper hear the Word of God and offer her praises to God. From the music to the prayers, to the readings and the various movements and gestures, all aspects of the worship service should explicitly point to the God we praise, the God who comes to us in Word and Sacrament.

And so, I'm not sure that this song - Forever, by Chris Brown (lyrics here) - can be construed as proclamation of God's Word or as praise of God. It might have a great beat, and sweet words of romance, but ... but is it the stuff of Christian worship? Perhaps the pastor did a great job of connecting the joy and love of this wedding dance with the joy and love of God ... perhaps.

I think this dance would be a great way to enter a wedding reception or a civil wedding ceremony. I think the dance could be a great way to enter a church service, given that the accompanying music is one of Christian praise in the Black Gospel or Christian Rock tradition. Yes, I'm fine with the form - with the dancing - but I do think that words matter ... because we're a people who worship a Living Word, a Savior who is the Word Made Flesh. A wedding service in a church, after all, is a church service, a gathering of people around the Word of God.

I am sure that this dance made the wedding day meaningful and joyful for the couple and for those in attendence ... but is that the purpose of a Christian wedding liturgy, to make the experience of declaring marriage vows meaningful and joyful?  No. Wedding liturgies - or funeral liturgies or any liturgies, for that matter - are not meant to be "Christmas Trees" onto which we hang every sentiment-inspiring reading, ritual, or performance. There are many things that inspire emotion and sentiment, but they don't all belong in a service of Christian worship. (I addressed this issue in relation to Christian worship and patriotism in a post entitled Praising God, Honoring Country, three years ago).

Truly this couple has been richly blessed by God with joy, talent, and a knack for celebrating their love. I was truly moved by their dance ... yet as a pastor I would only suggest that they move their dance moves to the reception hall.

Peace.

Churches on Facebook

I recently started a Facebook page for my congregation, Resurrection Evangelical Lutheran Church in Arlington, VA.  It's a simple little page, and so far has 28 fans (a few of which are friends of mine not really attached to the congregation!).  It is a modest endeavor, for sure, listing upcoming events, sermon texts, and basic information about the congregation.

So my question is this: what success - if any - have you had with a Facebook page for your congregation or community organization (any PTAs on Facebook?).  Who manages the page? What kind of information do you put on the page?  Does it have any devotional quality to it, or is it more of an announcement board?

Also, have you paid for advertising on Facebook?  I've researched it, and it looks as if I could have ads appear on the screens of anybody in the Arlington area with the word "Christian" somewhere in their profile (I don't think that the ad keyword program discerns between someone who lists "Christian" as their religion or someone who lists "Christian Slater" as their favorite actor, however).  I would pay approximately $.50 for each click, but I haven't gone ahead with it, yet.

Finally, is there a congregation or ministry that you think does a good job with a Facebook page?

Please share your thoughts and your links ... Thanks!

"We all have our religions, but ..."

Once again, the religious faith of a presidential nominee is being brought into question.  

Today's Washington Post profiles Dr. Regina M. Benjamin, the president's pick to be Surgeon General, and gives particular attention to her religious faith (Surgeon General Pick's Stance on Abortion May Clash With Church's, by Cheryl W. Thompson, Sat July 28, 2009, A5).  Dr. Benjamin, after all, is a practicing Roman Catholic.  Yet, according to friends, she aparently supports abortion rights (she has not made any public statement on her abortion views). The article attempts to play up the potential conflicts between her religious faith and her public service, and also between her stance on abortion and her membership in the Roman Catholic church.

Cited in the article are the now-common yet simplistic refrains that the nominee can separate religious faith from public service. Supporters - and nominees, too - often make this claim when their religion teaches something that might come into conflict with their public role. In this case it is an odd claim to have to make, since Dr. Benjamin seems to support the law on access to abortion, and since the position for which she is nominated has little influence on the abortion issue.  Nonetheless, the faith-is-separate-from-public-service argument has been trotted out:

"We all have our religions, but when you speak as the surgeon general to the American people, it's not about your religion," said David Satcher, a fromer surgeon general under President Bill Clinton ....

"You kind of have to park your personal beliefs at the door when they conflict with what your role is," said [Jorge] Alsip [a long-time colleague of Dr. Benjamin's], who said he opposes abortion rights.

What both Drs. Satcher and Alsip fail to grasp here is that religious faith can send someone into public service, and that faith indeed can lead someone - out of a call to serve others - to at times work within settings and tasks that otherwise might be in the "thou shalt not" category of faith.  

The concept of faith that Drs. Satcher and Alsip seem to have is one that can only operate in isolation or in the ideal, and has little ability to maneuver the challenges and realities of the "real world." Indeed, I have serious concerns about a faith that is comparmentalized and easily set aside when faced with challenging circumstances. A robust faith - and with it, a robust theology of vocation, human anthropology, and of God's two kingdoms - is one which can navigate the challenges, pitfalls, and moral inconsistencies of daily life.  A theology of Christian perfection gets the real-world Christian nowhere, and forces her to ditch her faith in the face of human imperfection.

I've written about this topic before, concerning two Bush administration nominees - about four years ago at the nomination of Chief Justice John Roberts (Our Discomfort With Faith), and two years ago at the nomination of James Holsinger to be Surgeon General (Partitioning Faith). In each case it is claimed that the nominee can keep their faith separate from their public service. I say hogwash. Rather, I would expect that it is religious faith which first propeled them to enter public service, and which sustains their daily work.

More on this later, perhaps ...

So Help Us God (or Virtus)

I never imagined how "holy" an experience it would be to register at the courthouse for authorization to legally offiate at weddings.

• I provided papers proving that I am a called and ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (We call you to exercise among us the ministry of Word and Sacrament which God has established and which the Holy Spirit empowers, one of the documents reads).
• I provided $29 in cash, bearing the words In God We Trust, as payment of the courthouse's administrative fee.
• I took an oath which concluded with the words So Help Me God (and yes, in a strange feat of government orthography, the first letter of each word in that phrase was capitalized). 
• And to top it all off, as I walked into the Arlington County Courthouse I passed the seal of the Commonwealth of Virginia, which prominently features the Roman goddess Virtus. 

All this God-talk is required so that I can be authorized to declare a marriage legal.  I'd expect God-talk in the church and in preparation for my ordination, but to formalize a state-sanctioned, legal relationship?  I don't see how such language is necessary, to be honest.

One thing this experience has taught me is that when it comes to God's role (or the role of ancient Roman dieties, for that matter) in our state and society, I think we're a confused lot ...

(Click here for more of my admittedly radical perspectives on the separation of church and state.)

Time Keeps on Slippin'

(This post first appeared in the July 2009 edition of my church's newsletter)

In early 1977 Steve Miller’s “Fly Like an Eagle,” reached #2 on the Billboard Top 100 chart.  Nineteen years later it was covered by Seal, and reached #13 on the pop charts.  It is a song familiar to generations of listeners.

Less notable was the performance of “Fly Like an Eagle” by the Haverford Middle School Chorus in 1987, when a group of 12 and 13 year-olds – who were in diapers when the song was first released – sang the piece while trying to keep from laughing at the absurdly obvious refrain, “Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future”  (like, where else would it go, we wondered?).  Perhaps we adolescent members of the so-called “Generation X” weren’t tuned into the existential ponderings of our parents’ generation (a generational gap that continues beyond adolescence to have significant impact, I believe, on how our respective generations look at institutions such as government or the church, for example … but that’s the stuff for another article).

Time is slippin’ into the future, a reality that is catching up with me these days.  Time management is one of the central challenges I face in my new life as a parish pastor.  To be honest, time management was never my strong suit, but now as I juggle a variety of interests, responsibilities and ministries, and a schedule that includes nights and weekends, I struggle to prioritize or find a balance.  I am experimenting with a new day off (Mondays) and am seeking other ways to use the gift of time wisely as I live into my vocations as pastor, spouse, and parent.  This juggling act is something that many of you confront, as well.

At the synod’s Confirmation Camp, held during the last week of June at Mar-Lu-Ridge Lutheran Camp, 70 kids, 12 faculty members (mostly pastors), and 20 camp counselors recalled the life and ministry of Jesus.  As we recounted a selection of Jesus’ miracles and parables, it felt like time was slippin’ quite quickly into the future!  We began on Sunday evening with Jesus’ baptism, and by Tuesday Jesus was betrayed by Judas at the Last Supper.  Yet on Thursday Jesus was raised from the dead, calling on his followers – in this case, the youth attending Confirmation Camp – to go into the world proclaiming the Good News of God and serving all in his name.  That afternoon we were engaged in service projects at a community center, a nursing home, a local congregation, and at Mar-Lu-Ridge camp itself.

I reflected on this quick passage – or slippin’, to use Steve Miller’s lingo – of time and wondered what was next.  That is, at Confirmation Camp time slipped quickly into the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection, and we responded with acts of love and service.  But then camp ended, we packed up, and went home.  Did God’s time stop slippin’ when we all got back onto Route 15?  I don’t think so.

We live in an in-between time, a time that is slippin’ into God’s promised future, but which is also shaped by God’s mighty acts as recounted in Scripture.  From the Exodus and the Exile, to the Sermon on the Mount and Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives, our present and our future is grounded in a blessed past.  This past tells us a story of God’s unending mercy and grace, of a God who turns again and again to his people in love.  This past sends us on a path of promise looking forward to a new kingdom, a new creation, a new reality that indeed has been breaking in since Jesus’ baptism.  God’s promised future is slippin’ into the present.

Time keeps on slippin’.  In my daily life, I’m going to try to keep time from slippin’ too far, too fast, or too hectically into the future.  But in God’s time, I’m grateful that time keeps on slippin’, for each minute that passes is a gift from God, an opportunity to witness his love, a chance to be grounded in sacred promises, ancient and future.

Reflections on Church Unity and Bishop Hanson's Letter

Yesterday the Presiding Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America released a letter on Christian unity as our church prepares for a potentially divisive biennial churchwide assembly next month.

My thoughts: This letter is essentially about baptismal unity, which is truly a blessed gift of God.  By our baptism into Christ Jesus, we are made one body.  From the Bishop's letter:

We hold in common this confession that God makes us one in Jesus Christ, but it is not making this confession that makes us one. Rather, because God unites us to Jesus Christ in Baptism we are also united to each other in one body that transcends any other difference. Paul states this clearly. “For in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ” (Galatians 3:26-27).

The Bishop's reflections on baptismal unity for the life of the church are helpful, but I fear that they are not enough.  When I was ordained I didn't pledge fidelity to my baptismal covenant, but to a particular church, tradition, and set of teachings.  Though the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America professes to be part of "one, holy, catholic and apostolic church," we nonetheless recognize that within that one universal church we maintain a particular discipline and practice as a communion in the Lutheran tradition.  In matters of denominational unity we cannot appeal to baptismal unity only ... for baptismal unity is something that we share with all Christians who baptize in the name of the Triune God, but it doesn't speak to the legitimate concerns and challenges facing denominational traditions and structures today.

In its ecumenical relationships and aspirations the ELCA seeks more than a unity based on a common baptism in Christ. Before entering into a full communion relationship with another denomination, we seek to develop a shared language of faith, and some sort of reconciliation of theological tenets and/or liturgical practice. Our church's goal has been some sort of visible unity, expressed (in part, anyway) through structural means.  We can argue about the merits of this agenda, but working toward visible unity is the policy of our church, a means of putting our "spiritual" unity into practice.

I wonder if in this letter Bishop Hanson asks less of Lutherans (a baptismal unity) than the ELCA regularly asks of itself in discipline and order (fidelity to Lutheran confessions and liturgical practice)?  Is he expecting less of us than we expect of our ecumenical partners in full communion agreements (a visible unity based on liturgical pracitce and structural relationships)?  How does this letter compare with our church's ecumenical agenda?

I fear that this letter speaks to a "spiritual" unity which, on this side of the Kingdom of God, is not enough to keep the church together.  We have confessions and constitutions, traditions and disciplines, all of which are designed to be expressions of and servants to the church and the Gospel it proclaims.  The Bishop should have also appealed to these elements of our tradition in calling the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America to unity, for even if our church splits this summer, we will continue to be united to Christ and to each other by baptism.  But is that what we want, a split in which separated brethren can claim baptismal unity but who no longer will strive together for the greater gifts? I don't think so.

As members of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, we must expect more of ourselves than baptismal unity.  For though our life together as the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America is a gift of God, it is also a practice of discipline and mutual admonition that requires carefull attention given to our confessions, tradition, and governance practices. I'm not sure that, in preparation for this year's potentially divisive churchwide assembly, we've sufficiently mined our tradition and our teachings to articulate what unity looks like in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.  Denominational unity is a delicate dance that traverses both of God's kingdoms, and demands attention given to the needs of both.  Have we done that?  I'm not sure.  (As time permits, I'll examine our ELCA Constitution and offer some reflections on denominational unity in future posts.)

Though I think that Bishop Hanson's letter missed the mark with this letter, I do not expect our church to rupture this summer. I'm not sure that August will be our church's shining moment, but I don't expect it to be our worst, either.  Let us hope.  Let us pray.