So... What???

Last week, I started this blog. I feel like it's something akin to my grandmother purchasing her first CD player in 2004... around the time that those little plastic (they are plastic, right?) discs started to become obsolete in the era of iTunes and mp3s.

Since then, I've written 3 posts... which are saved in my "drafts." They're about "sex," "marriage," and "socialism." In them, I attempt to be faithful to my values, conviction, and calling - and, to be aware of how they would be received by the people among whom I am privileged to worship from week to week.

I haven't posted any of them. There are two reasons for this:

1. A person very dear to my life/heart said, "You've started a blog, eh? That everyone from church can read, eh?......... be careful." This feedback is, in part, because an article I wrote in our church newsletter two years ago (who actually reads those things, anyway???) ended up being discussed "on air" by a local uber-conservative talk-radio host. That didn't go well. (I still stand by what I wrote, but in retrospect, it probably wasn't the best use of ink.)

2. I'm verbose. Combine that with wanting to be careful, and you end up with very long blog posts with far too many dependent clauses, parenthetical explanations, and disclaimers. Who wants to read that?

So while I'm fairly sure I'll end up posting those eventually (I'm sure the 2 people who will read this are waiting with baited breath), I thought I'd start with a more in-depth description of the place in which I'm privileged to serve as pastor.

First off, a reminder that everything I write here is representative of my thoughts alone. I do not speak on behalf of the congregation, or the denomination - and surely not on behalf of the God I worship.

Grace is a wonderful place. We've got our struggles like everyone else - money comes and goes, the community is aging and the school-aged population is shrinking, we've had a fair amount of conflict in the past decade or so... these things make for perennial struggles not uncommon to small denominational "mainline" congregations.

But we have some amazing people, from every generation. Some of those amazing people are Republicans - active in politics and not shy about sharing their views on Facebook or in local parades. Indeed, one of the state's most conservative senators grew up at Grace, and his father is still a member (very active, and a real pleasure to have in Bible study and worship). Some of the most compassionate, engaged, and trustworthy folks are people with whom I share almost no political common ground.

We are also a Reconciling in Christ (RIC) congregation, meaning we welcome and rejoice in the participation of people of all sexual orientations and gender identities. We have very active Democrats and people who are equally willing to share their liberal political perspectives on any number of issues.

Some of each of those groups regularly eat brunch together after worship on Sundays. They all come to the Table on Sunday morning. They serve, welcome, and reach out - together.

I get obnoxious political e-mail forwards from folks on all sides of the political spectrum. (I don't respond to any of them unless asked directly to do so, and my response is usually something like, "Sorry I didn't respond; I don't typically find those forwards to be helpful contributions to public discourse...")

Racially and ethnically, we fairly well represent our community - which means we're virtually 100% white and relatively affluent. However, we have many members who are struggling financially - some visibly so, most in the invisible manner of many suburban folks who struggle to keep up with a lifestyle that is not very reliable or sustainable in the current economic climate. We have people who have been, or are currently, unemployed. We have folks who struggle with substance abuse, who are raising kids with disabilities, whose bodies are falling apart...

In short, it's a small corner of the Body of Christ. And it is a joy to serve in the midst of it.

The political anxieties and paranoia that so plague public discourse these days are real and palpable among our folk. A couple months ago, the Synod asked us to host a conversation (mandated by the Synod Assembly) on how faithful Lutherans can/should respond to the fierce debate over workers' rights and public employee unions. The mere thought of hosting the conversation (let alone advocating on one side or the other) made for a long week of phone calls and e-mails, wondering what on earth we were getting ourselves into and why.

So yeah, I'm a bit nervous about plunging into the fray with an easily-reproducible medium in which I express feelings/opinions (again, entirely my own) that might stir up discontent.

But more important than my own self-preservation, I want to avoid any hint of a suggestion that the dignity and worth, faithfulness or righteousness of any of the folks in my congregation (or the Christian community at large) is somehow dependent upon our ability to agree or not on any given subject.

Just yesterday I had a wonderful conversation with one of the most consistently conservative people in this congregation about the reality of hell and the rightness of same-gender marriage (the two topics are, I pray, disconnected in both of our minds). We don't agree on either of those questions - at all. But I golf with this guy (he consistently beats me). I honestly love him; every time he walks in the door, I am blessed to heartily greet him. He's really funny - and has immense wisdom to share. He's a veteran, and I honor his sacrifice and mourn for what he lost in the war (his brother died in WWII). He's another good, good man with whom I regularly share the Means of Grace.

And his place in the Body of Christ, his status as a child of God, his worth and dignity as a fellow sinner and saint in this community are in no way jeopardized by the fact that I personally believe he is wrong on a variety of questions of social, political, and theological significance.

I know that doesn't sound very "radical." I imagine we all theoretically embrace that concept (I hope so, anyway) when it's written or spoken aloud. But in this age of vitriol and nonsense, I know I have personally felt like my status as a Christian has been called into question because of any number of my political preferences or theological perspectives. And no corner of the political/theological spectrum has the monopoly on that kind of degrading insinuation.

So... that's why I'm hesitant. But the gift of that hesitation is patience and thoughtfulness. I parse every word and phrase to be sure that I'm not unnecessarily offending people of good faith with whom I happen to disagree. That's not to say that I won't occasionally write things that are offensive - sometimes unintentionally, sometimes because the truth as I understand it can be offensive to folks who hold to radically different versions of the truth.

But what I lack in timeliness and trendiness I hope I gain in thoughtfulness and patience. I earnestly believe the Body is big enough to embrace all kinds of folk. All kinds. Even Republicans.

And that's something I never would have been able to say when I was a teenager. And thanks be to God for growth.