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Waves of Change

This month, our blog series is actually a vlog series – a video blog, that is! We’re calling it “The NEXT Few Minutes.” Over the next several weeks, we’ll share with you short, 2-3 minute videos from a variety of folks around the country with the hopes they spark your own imagination. We hope you’ll learn about some trends, ask questions, and think deeply about the practice of ministry in your own setting.

Steve Lindsley, pastor at Trinity Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, NC, considers waves of change at the church – while at the beach. What waves of change is your congregation or context currently facing? How are you as a leader helping negotiate that change? Join the conversation by commenting on this blog post or on our Facebook/Twitter pages!

To see all of our videos in our “The NEXT Few Minutes” series, check out our playlist on Youtube.

Pitfalls of Technology and Social Media

Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. For January and February, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating a month of reflections on technology, faith, and church. Join the conversation here or on Facebook

By Steve Lindsley

The look on her face was something along the lines of unpleasant surprise. But moreso, disappointment. I was confused. We’d been talking about scheduling a day for me to visit her and the other fine church folk at the retirement home. I’ll be right back, let me get my calendar, I had told her. And I’d come back and sat down and plopped my laptop on the table in between the two of us, ready to schedule away.

She looked at my laptop like it was the golden calf. An idol. Maybe that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Get that out of my face! she shot back. I thought she was kidding, until I realized that she wasn’t. I got a mini-lecture from her about how rude it was to stick “that thing” in between the two of us. A few days later, she would apologize to me for her gruff manner. But I told her that wasn’t necessary. Because she was exactly right.

I am a self-professed tech geek. I go very few places without my trusty Macbook. At church, it is subjected to endless hours of checking email, researching and writing sermons and worship liturgy, church social media, and on and on. My right pants pockets all have a noticeable rectangular impression from my cell phone. I’ve been preaching off an iPad for years.

And I use social media religiously. Pun intended. I use it for church purposes almost as much as personal. In fact, the line between the two are often blurred. We have a church Facebook, Twitter, Instagram; and I’m the primary curator of all three. But even on my personal accounts, I’m almost always posting church stuff. I do this intentionally, because I realize the importance in today’s world of the church being visible “in the marketplace;” and that we live in a society that exists as much virtually as it does physically.

I’ll be the first one to swear that technology and social media are critical tools that the church should make full use of, and my personal practices certainly subscribe to that ideology.

So why did I begin this blog with a story about an older lady who laid into me for sticking a computer in her face?

Because – and those of you who know me are going to wonder if my blog account has been hacked – we in the church have got to be careful when it comes to technology and social media.

Technology and social media are tools, but that’s all they are. Just tools. Tools to a greater end. And the thing is, we have lots of tools in the church. We have buildings, programs, ministries, bulletins, Sunday school curriculum. None of them are the reason we come together. They simply help us do so and point us to that reason – which is to be the body of Christ and help build God’s kingdom on earth.

My experience with this dear saint of our church was a pretty blatant example of how technology and social media can get in the way of our mission of body-being and kingdom-building. Literally, a piece of metal and plastic stuck in between two people. I should’ve known better. But it makes me wonder: in what other ways might we inadvertently drive a wedge in between with our fierce devotion to posting that pic on Instagram, getting that tweet in, updating our church’s Facebook page?

The tools of ministry are great, and can be a ton of fun too. But they should never supplant or replace the critical element of human connection, where true ministry takes place. I think of Jesus and the woman at the well. He met her where she was.

The church should strive to be like that in everything we do – and, in so doing, make sure none of the wonderful tools we have at our disposal inadvertently get in the way.

Now pardon me while I go update my Facebook status.


Steve LindsleySteve Lindsley is a singer-songwriter and pastor of Trinity Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, NC and a member of the NEXT Church Advisory Team. Connect with him at his website

A Child Speaks About Church

By Steve Lindsley and Lynn Turnage

Hey.child reading bible small

HEY!

Down here….

Yes, thanks.  Hello.  It’s me.  I’m a kid in your church. Nice to meet you.

I’m sure you’ve seen me before.  I’m the one who sits with my family in front of you in worship every Sunday. Remember that blur you saw running around the fellowship hall at the church potluck dinner last week?  Yours truly.  I sang a stellar solo in the children’s choir last month; I’m sure you remember.

Anyway, now that I have your attention, I thought I’d share with you what I need from the church.  Because there are a whole lot of ideas out there about what kids need to grow in the faith and stick with the church when we become grown-ups ourselves.  Thing is, no one’s bothering to ask us kids what we think.  So here are some thoughts to ponder:

Just tell me the Bible story.  I know it sounds simple enough, but it’s amazing how complicated this can get.  Honestly, I don’t need gimmicks, flash, fluff.  If I want entertainment I’ll ask my parents to take me to the movies.  I don’t need a Vacation Bible School that “takes me on an Amazon expedition” or involves surfing, camping or clowns.  And please, don’t let some random B-rate Bible cartoon video do it for you.  I want you to tell me the Bible story. You. Me. The Bible. That’s it.

Remember: I can’t sit still for long.  I know, shocker.  Don’t blame me; God made me this way.  Anyway, just make your story-telling segments a little shorter and cut to the chase, and help me experience the story with as many of my senses as possible.  And when it comes to worship,  give me something to do – “worship bags” with chenille sticks, or some paper or mandalas and good crayons or markers would be great (although I’d suggest changing them out frequently so I’m not coloring the same picture of Jesus every week).

Give me, at the bare minimum, an hour a month with the pastor.  This would be awesome. Because sometimes it feels like you all think that I’m too little or too young for the pastor.  Which is just silly, if you ask me (see: scripture on Jesus and the children).  So give me time with him or her.  Let them tell me a Bible story or take me on a nature walk or just have doughnuts with me.  You tell me all the time how important the pastor is. Well, I’m important too; so it’d be the perfect match, right?

My best adult teachers/leaders/volunteers are the ones that I KNOW care about me.  Makes sense.  Because they’re not there out of some sense of obligation, or because they were guilted into it by a desperate teacher recruitment committee member.  They’re there because they want to be there, because they genuinely like me.  And because they like me, they tell the stories better, play the games better, teach better. So I learn more.  And I make an adult friend too.  Because I really like it when someone calls me by name and says “HI!”  The don’t have to comment on how cute I look, just call my name in a nice voice.

Give me some responsibility in the church. See, here’s the thing: you expect me to be a bystander in church until I hit some age (18? 22?) when voila!, I’m suddenly supposed to dive in and do everything.  Honestly, that’s silly.  If you want me to grow up committed to and participating in the life of the church, you need to empower me to do that now.  I’d make a great usher on Sunday morning.  I know I could help serve food at the weekly homeless meal if you’d be there to help me.

I like to be with my family and all ages together in worship.  There’s this tradition a lot of churches have in worship of escorting the kids out to some remote location following the “Children’s Time.”  Personally, I’m not a fan.  You think I don’t want to be in worship during the sermon because it’s “boring.” I actually listen to what they say and it sticks with me – as you are well aware in other contexts, I’m great at remembering everything you adults say.  All things being equal, I’d rather stay in worship with my church family – we call ourselves a family, right?  I might get a little antsy (worship bags will help).  But I promise you I won’t fall asleep like that dude in front of me every week.  Surely you’ve seen him.

So that’s it, I guess.  Mainly just focus on telling the story and letting that be the focus.  If you do that, I have a pretty good feeling I’ll stick around in church for a long time.


Steve Lindsley is Pastor/Head of Staff at First Presbyterian Church in Mount Airy, NC.  Lynn Turnage is Director of Children and Family Ministries at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Greensboro, NC.

Image: Andi Berger/shutterstock.com

Faithful Millennials, Children, and the Steps In Between

Beginning today, we’re changing up the NEXT Church blog a bit. We’ll continue to post good content, but each month will have a different theme or lens for what’s NEXT. We’ve asked leaders across the PC(USA) to curate a month of blog content based on their own passion in ministry. This does two things:

  1. Allows us to delve more deeply into specific topics, and
  2. Increases the number and variety of voices from whom we’re hearing as we practice ministry in the church that is becoming.

Thanks to Steve Lindsley and Lynn Turnage for curating this first month as we talk about what’s now and what’s next in faith formation of children.

*****

It’s time to talk children!

Over the next weeks, you will hear from various folks who are pastors, theologians, advocates, educators, parents, elders – or some combination of these – all who are passionate about children in church, children in worship, and children’s faith formation.

Who are the primary shapers of children’s faith? The church, the pastors, the officers, the teachers, and we know parents are the primary educators.

This series of blog posts brings together all of these voices as we think about forming the faith of children in the church, and most importantly in worship.

We know we are blessed to have children in our churches (what church doesn’t want more of them?!), and still we encounter people who could care less or “don’t know what to do with them” or are weary (or scared?) of children’s energy.

So now’s the time to think about the issues, attitudes and perspectives we juggle, what parents are thinking, what children have to say, and WHY we care. Enjoy these gifts of God!


Faithful Millennials, Children, and the Steps In Between

By Adam J. Copeland

parent child smallWatchers of religion online in recent months will likely have seen Rachel Held Evan’s CNN Belief Blog piece flying around the internet, “Why Millennials are Leaving the Church.” (Most classify millennials as those born between 1980 and 2000.) After Rachel’s post was shared thousands of times via social media, other bloggers penned responses to Rachel’s piece.

Brian McCracken wrote in the Washington Post that the way to keep millennials in the church is to keep church “uncool.”

A Lutheran bishop, James Hazelwood asked, “Is Rachel Held Evans Right?” and Rachel linked to the post on her blog. Christopher Smith called for a “Slow Church” way forward, emphasizing dialogue with one and all.

Though the hubbub about millennials has died down for now, I’ve continued to ponder faith development and children.

I teach at a church-related college and am working on a book in which 20-somethings share essays about wrestling with faith and college. As I read through dozens of submissions for the book, a theme surfaced.

Too many millennials have reflected on their faith saying, in part….“I just went through the church motions until college. I mean, my parents took me to church growing up, but it didn’t mean anything. My parents didn’t seem to care. Not until college did I being to wonder, ‘What is this faith stuff anyway?’”

The millennial writers share deep, meaningful, diverse, beautiful stories. Certainly there is much more to the essays than this thread. And yes, certainly, there are some developmental issues at play here.

But, with all the millennial-related blog posts swirling around the Internet, what might parents to do to prepare their children for the transition to college or a workplace? How, today, do we raise a child in the faith?

If the essays that have come across my desk are any indication, a good start is a simple one: talk about faith.

Faith communities are essential, of course, but for many of us a solid faith foundation is first built at home. So parents, do your best to connect all of living to faith. Talking about God’s blessing—and God’s call— at home, in the car, over meals, even online.

One simple way to support the faith of our children is to teach prayer practices. And, as is true with much of the faith, sometimes it’s best to learn by doing. Praying at meals and before bedtime can begin a lifelong practice of prayer. Silence or sabbath, too, can be prayerful if approached in a meditative, thoughtful way focused on God. (See MaryAnn McKibben-Dana’s new book, “Sabbath in the Suburbs: A Family’s Experiment with Holy Time.”)

In my family growing up, discussing the sermon after worship was a sort of Olympic sport. Most young children won’t be up for debating the finer points of the sermon each Sunday, but they will gain a lot if parents model engaged, thoughtful reflection on worship and Christian education. Inviting children into a conversation about the Bible stories encountered on Sunday shows that faith matters beyond Sunday at noon.

One of the recurring themes of the essays I’m working through is millennials’ faith struggles when met with pain, suffering, or loss. After all, what does God have to do with disease or natural disaster?

When parents are honest about their faith lives—the joys, sorrows, and struggles—they can model for their children a resilient, thoughtful faith that embraces the ups and downs of live.

Faith is a head thing, after all, but it’s also a direction of the heart.

At the risk of being flippant, if parents believe it’s worth the trouble to take their children to church in the first place then it behooves them not to stop there. Veggie Tales, though fun, don’t substitute for a committed life of discipleship.

Christianity, after all, is a holistic faith. The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ matters not just for an hour on Sunday, but for the whole of life, for the whole of the world.

Why are millennials leaving the church? Who knows and, let’s be real, many of the reasons are probably beyond our immediate control. What we can control, though, is our commitment to living out the faith we teach our children, the faith in which we baptize.


Adam Copeland CCAdam J. Copeland is Faculty Director for Faith and Leadership at Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota where he teaches in the department of religion. He blogs at A Wee Blether (http://adamjcopeland.com) and tweets @ajc123.

Image Credits: steeple: Anita Patterson Peppers/shutterstock; parent and child: kuma/shutterstock

Pastors Standing in the Surf of Change

By Steve Lindsley

It’s around 11am, and our family is at the beach. It rained the first few days here, but now the sun is shining bright and the place is packed.  We’ve carved out a few square feet of sand for our two folding chairs.  We won’t need much room, though, because the majority of the Lindsleys will be out in the water, out in the waves. I’ve always loved the body surfing/boogie-boarding thing, and I’m proud to have passed that same love on to my sons.

It’s different being out there as a father, though.  It’s a bit of a juggling act between satisfying your own desires to enjoy the waves while owning up to your parental obligations.  I have to shelve my desire to plunge headfirst into the oncoming wave to make sure my kids are safe.  And “safe” in the ocean is always a tricky thing – that huge wave that doesn’t materialize until its right on you, undercurrents and rip currents, and all the unforeseen marine life that – as I’ve had personal experience with – can cause, ahem, severe complications.

What makes it even more of a challenge is the difference between my two boys.  My oldest shares my tendency to throw himself into something with reckless abandon.  I want to go out to the big waves, he tells me.   We can’t, the lifeguard says there are rip currents out there, I answer.  What does he know, he’s way back there in the lifeguard chair!  And so it goes.  My younger son, though, is much more tentative.  Or “smart,” as his mother would say.  He may want to follow his Dad and older brother, but for him, the threat overrides the potential thrill.  But he’s not going to sit up in the beach chair, either.  So in his mind he’s determined the parameters of how far he’ll go into the surf, and he’s not about to exceed it.

It’s a lot to manage.  In fact, it actually feels a lot like being a pastor.

The waves of change are swirling around the church in a big way these days, and in many ways it’s been going on for years.  Much of this change – all of it, perhaps – has come from the outside: civil rights movement, women’s liberation, postmodernism, gay marriage and stances on homosexuality, the equalizing of the human experience via mass technology and social media.  I could go on and on.

The point is, the church is facing change whether we like it or not. And we differ greatly on how we respond to and cultivate that change, even within a single congregation.

Some folks are like my older son, feeling the urge to plunge head-first into the waves of change.  Why delay the inevitable?  Things like the emergent church, contemporary worship, congregations that look more like coffee houses and even NEXT Church in my denomination are signs of those who recognize that the wave is coming – so why not go and meet it?  We know we can’t “change the change” any more than my son or I can alter the direction of the wave that’s heading straight for us – as my friend and fellow songster David Lamotte sings, “The water’s gonna win.”  As does change.  Why fight something that is going to happen with you or without you?

Hold on, say people like my younger son.  For these, change – like the waves – are not just a sign of something different, but the essence of the difference itself.  And the very fact that “it” can’t be stopped elicits fear – or, as writer Diana Butler Bass suggests in her recent book, grief over the loss of what was familiar and comfortable.  There are degrees to this category of folks.  Some remain stubbornly on the shore, plopped down in the beach chair and observing the change from a safe distance.  Others, like my younger son, may wade in the surf, but only up to a point.  They engage change in the church with conditions and qualifiers: contemporary music… but only at the early service.  Women in positions of leadership… but not the lead pastor.  Acceptance of gays and lesbians for church membership… but not for ordination.

And there’s the pastor in the middle of it all.  They’re standing in the surf, calling out to one group of folks to come back, not so fast, wait up for everyone else.  And they’re calling out to others: come on in, it’s not so bad, you’ll be alright.  They’re well aware of the threats that can be seen – all those undercurrents and rip currents swirling around them – as well as the threats no one can see yet.   They’re trying to care for people and help them meet their needs, while also caring for the church and meeting God’s needs.

Like I said, a lot to manage.

I got to thinking about this while scanning my Facebook feed this morning and coming upon this from The 70 Sent Project:

The church is a paradoxical mixture between the desire to transform a world that clings to old forms and prejudices, and the desire to find stability and peace in a world that is changing too rapidly. Often this paradox is found within the same person.  The role of the church leader is to stand in the middle of this paradox, facilitating the flow of the Holy Spirit between the transforming and stabilizing impulses. (emphasis mine)

That’s the huge task facing pastors and all church leaders in today’s church: not trying to be everything to everyone, a common misconception (and the cause of clergy burnout for anyone who tries it).  No, the task of those in ministry in the 21st century is trying to bring everyone together into some sense of cohesion and mission when people are different (thanks be to God for that, by the way) and when people respond to change differently.  That along with facing the fact that the change, like that big wave, is coming.  In fact, in a sense it’s already here.

It’s a challenge, to be sure. But it’s also a wonderful opportunity and privilege, to stand there.  Change means that God is in the midst of doing some pretty amazing stuff. Here’s hoping that, wherever we are standing in the surf – right at the breaking point or a little further up shore – that we all eventually get swept up in the wave of God’s change together.

In other words, time to get our sea legs under us.

 LindsleySteve Lindsley is pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Mount Airy, NC. He blogs regularly at http://thoughts-musings.com.