Abundance
Meeting with my colleagues serving as the presbyters and stated clerks for the presbyteries of the Synod of the Pacific was a wonderful experience. It was affirming that God is at work along the West Coast; affirming that there is so much life in our churches even as we become more and more a denomination of small congregations; and affirming of the many different voices speaking within our church.
First, though, a reflection on one of the major challenges before us--scarcity. Scarcity is the lack of something. It is the recognition that what resources are available are there in small quantities. It is also the recognition that what is there is more than likely unrenewable--once it's gone, it's gone. It is akin to rarity in that what is rare is probably also scarce. As we shared the ministry and community within our presbyteries, it was clear there was a scarcity of resources--money is tight, and so are the people who contribute it. Interestingly, it is the lack of people that is more foundational. We find that we are blessed actually with decent bank accounts, but the lack of people makes everything else seem more scarce.
The issue of money is always prickly in church conversations. Being of and for God, money seems to be so worldly as to deserve its dismissal in the Greek New Testament as "filthy lucre." The church and money seems the perfect breeding ground for all that is anathema to faith and the root of some of the sharpest and most deserved critiques from the skeptics--e.g., the prosperity preacher with his $65 million jets. Yet, the flip-side to that is money really does make our particular world go round--without it, you can't do anything.
I can assure you that every church person I was with has a healthy view of money in the service of God. It is not an end in itself, it is the means by which we can get things done in our world as our world is. Mission doesn't happen if we can't acquire the tools by which to do it. I heard some wonderful analogies for money's purpose in the church--e.g., it is like the internet access fee we all pay to have wifi in our homes--you pay to get connected; so, too, is the per capita payment our congregations pay to the higher governing bodies--it is the assurance of access, and it is the assurance that there will be something to access. Thousands of Presbyterian young people will descend on Purdue University this summer for Triennium--per capita makes that even possible, and makes it possible for kids from even the tiniest churches to attend. Per capita is not a tax; it is mutual support.
As to the Spirit at work, there could be no question after spending time with these good folks. I heard again and again, and found myself repeating, that our main task is community--connecting church to church, member to member, pastor to pastor, and church to communities. We have all endured a hard time of conflict with some congregations simply choosing to uproot and leave, painfully in every case. For some presbyteries, it has been a grievous time of loss with 25% or even upwards toward 40% of their membership leaving. No divorce is painless, and the scars are real and deep. But what I heard was not vindictiveness or retributory--what I heard was the need to reconnect, reconsider, and reclaim the doctrines of grace, mercy, and compassion on all levels. I heard a universal quest to somehow embody love in all we say and do, realizing we may well stumble and fall, but, at least, we will try to do what Christ embodies. Thus, there is a great welcome of creativity. Church need not look anything like it has to be the church, so long as Christ is proclaimed, serving the neediest of all leads, and we commit to learning as much of God so we can learn as much of ourselves as we can.
As we prayed and read scripture, we were invited to envision how the texts of resurrection, reclamation, and God's lavish love made themselves present in our daily work. No one needed much time to speak examples. God's overwhelming presence and love manifest everywhere and all the time. We see it in the beauty of the earth; the beauty of church people being church; and in the wonder that we ordinary people are instruments of grace.
So, as I drove back to Sacramento, one thought kept recurring--God is good; and grace abounds--the truth is we really are not imprisoned by scarcity; but overwhelmed by God's generosity.
First, though, a reflection on one of the major challenges before us--scarcity. Scarcity is the lack of something. It is the recognition that what resources are available are there in small quantities. It is also the recognition that what is there is more than likely unrenewable--once it's gone, it's gone. It is akin to rarity in that what is rare is probably also scarce. As we shared the ministry and community within our presbyteries, it was clear there was a scarcity of resources--money is tight, and so are the people who contribute it. Interestingly, it is the lack of people that is more foundational. We find that we are blessed actually with decent bank accounts, but the lack of people makes everything else seem more scarce.
The issue of money is always prickly in church conversations. Being of and for God, money seems to be so worldly as to deserve its dismissal in the Greek New Testament as "filthy lucre." The church and money seems the perfect breeding ground for all that is anathema to faith and the root of some of the sharpest and most deserved critiques from the skeptics--e.g., the prosperity preacher with his $65 million jets. Yet, the flip-side to that is money really does make our particular world go round--without it, you can't do anything.
I can assure you that every church person I was with has a healthy view of money in the service of God. It is not an end in itself, it is the means by which we can get things done in our world as our world is. Mission doesn't happen if we can't acquire the tools by which to do it. I heard some wonderful analogies for money's purpose in the church--e.g., it is like the internet access fee we all pay to have wifi in our homes--you pay to get connected; so, too, is the per capita payment our congregations pay to the higher governing bodies--it is the assurance of access, and it is the assurance that there will be something to access. Thousands of Presbyterian young people will descend on Purdue University this summer for Triennium--per capita makes that even possible, and makes it possible for kids from even the tiniest churches to attend. Per capita is not a tax; it is mutual support.
As to the Spirit at work, there could be no question after spending time with these good folks. I heard again and again, and found myself repeating, that our main task is community--connecting church to church, member to member, pastor to pastor, and church to communities. We have all endured a hard time of conflict with some congregations simply choosing to uproot and leave, painfully in every case. For some presbyteries, it has been a grievous time of loss with 25% or even upwards toward 40% of their membership leaving. No divorce is painless, and the scars are real and deep. But what I heard was not vindictiveness or retributory--what I heard was the need to reconnect, reconsider, and reclaim the doctrines of grace, mercy, and compassion on all levels. I heard a universal quest to somehow embody love in all we say and do, realizing we may well stumble and fall, but, at least, we will try to do what Christ embodies. Thus, there is a great welcome of creativity. Church need not look anything like it has to be the church, so long as Christ is proclaimed, serving the neediest of all leads, and we commit to learning as much of God so we can learn as much of ourselves as we can.
As we prayed and read scripture, we were invited to envision how the texts of resurrection, reclamation, and God's lavish love made themselves present in our daily work. No one needed much time to speak examples. God's overwhelming presence and love manifest everywhere and all the time. We see it in the beauty of the earth; the beauty of church people being church; and in the wonder that we ordinary people are instruments of grace.
So, as I drove back to Sacramento, one thought kept recurring--God is good; and grace abounds--the truth is we really are not imprisoned by scarcity; but overwhelmed by God's generosity.
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