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Am I In the Right Room?

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Cheryl Finney

Am I in the right room?

Most of my life I have used this simple question to gain direction. Is the space I have placed myself, whether it be graduate school, neighborhood, or church, putting me in contact with people that reflect collectively who I want to become?

tsr_4472_webInstitutions I join that are experimental, and open to new ways of being are “rooms” I will stay in. So it was inspiring to hear the way Presbyterians are redefining our “rooms” of worship at the NEXT Church National Gathering in Atlanta. Innovations like Farm Church, a new agriculturally-based Christian community in Durham focused on growing food and faith for the hungry intrigued me. Then there was Serious Ju Ju, a faith-based ministry in Montana centered on at risk teenage boys revolving around their love of skateboarding – really, how can one not love that? Both ministries have recently sprung forth and reflect new spaces of worship which excites me. So I found myself saying, “Yes!” If this is where my church is leading, I will stay.

But what has had me on edge and closer to the exit was publicly named at the conference and that is our primarily white demographic as Presbyterians. Questions were raised on how our church will respond to a world with a national legacy of structural racism born from white dominance. I was grateful to be reminded again by NEXT speakers of the vigilance needed on issues of race that I as a white American, Presbyterian, living in Baltimore, need to continue to name, own, and challenge.

While I am in the midst of this work through community organizing in Baltimore, where building relationships across racial lines is at its core, it is important to me to have the larger church own this collectively. Sharing ways we are engaging the problem of white fragility in our churches, I was reminded again of the importance of sharing public narratives of our experience with race within our congregations often.

Just as I am thrilled to hear of innovations in worship I want the church to be pioneering in the way we are being church in the racial arena. Housing voices experimenting and moving past the fear of a misstep in a conversation on race can be a space that uncovers unconscious biases that brought to light can move a people of faith into action.

I am trusting that relationships built along the way as we challenge structured systems that are racist in outcome will be fertile ground that just might change what we look like and move us to who we are called to be.

That’s the next room I want to be in!

cheryl finneyCheryl Finney is a ruling elder at Brown Memorial Presbyterian Church in Baltimore. A frequently challenged mother of four, she is currently working for BUILD, Baltimoreans United in Leadership Development, as a project organizer. Her current passion is working with “returning citizens” through a jobs movement of BUILD called Turnaround Tuesdays. She says, “developing leaders from the reentry community as they join the workforce and rediscover a civic life is the richest work I have ever had the privilege to do!” 

 

Moments When the Spirit Moves

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Sarah Are

Sometimes new life lands in your lap like a summer thunderstorm- strong, sudden, and powerful.

Other times, new life shows up like a melody, or a sleepy cat- waking up, stretching its bones, and assuming its position back in the sun, back in your memory.

For me, the NEXT Church National Gathering this past February felt like that. All of that.

tsr_4819_webNEXT was an IV drip of coffee, energizing me in ways that I forgot I knew. However, it also was a reminder that the Holy Spirit moves, adding strength and memories to weary muscles.

I think we all have those moments- moments when the Spirit moves, and all of the sudden you know you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Those moments slide past us like water, taking with them the frustrations of previous aches and pains.

For me, some of those ministry moments have involved warm cups of coffee on church steps with the homeless folks that slept there the night prior. Some of those moments have involved youth group, where the “cool” kid stood up for the kid with autism, and it was holy ground. Others have involved 1,000 youth at Montreat, or three other young adults at bible study.

I crave the certainty of those moments.

I know that currently, seminary is where I am called to be, and I feel invigorated by that. However, my view of ministry has changed since being in seminary. I have struggled to discern where I would fit into a church that is both saturated in tradition, yet simultaneously growing and evolving, and at times have missed the calm certainty that comes only with sensing the Spirit.

In the seminary world, there is an acute sense of change in the air. The church is stretching. We cannot all find jobs, and when we do, they often look different than what we had imagined. We are being forced to tap into our creative side and our risk-tasking side, as we dream up bi-vocational ministries, new church developments, and fundraising tricks to cover the cost of a full time salary.  Pension plans are not a sure thing, and residencies provide sweet relief as Christian education and associate positions dwindle.

Taking risks and leaning into creativity is an exciting prospect, but it is also vulnerable, a little scary, and very exhausting.

This year’s NEXT conference was the first time that I have truly felt that this risk-taking creative solution making reality might actually be a blessing, and not strictly a challenge. For over the course of three days, I watched story after story of real ministry, that is faithful to the gospel and loving to the core, unfold before my eyes. I watched countless doors open, with new ministry models, and imaginative ways for old churches to continue faithful work.

For a long time, I have felt as if engaging in creative ministry models would be my uphill battle, but at NEXT, I was overwhelmed with how much is already being done, with how smooth those roads were being made.

As I walked through the big wooden doors at the end of the three days, I told myself- “this has to be the most exciting time to be in ministry, because there are no closed doors.”

I don’t know if it’s factually true – that this could be deemed the most exciting season.  

However, what I do know, is that it was one of those moments I crave. It was one of those moments where the Spirit moved, and all of the sudden, I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be- dreaming, hopefully, about the future of the church.

Those three days gave me new life, and it sounded like a melody, and felt like a sweet summer rainstorm. I walked away humming to myself, “What have I to dread? What have I to fear, leaning on the everlasting arms?” For I am convinced, this has to be one of the most exciting times to be in ministry.  After three days at NEXT, how could I dream otherwise?

sarah are

Sarah Are is a second year student at Columbia Theological Seminary pursuing a Master of Divinity. She is a book-worm, a food blogger, and a busy-body. Sarah was raised on sweet tea and in church pews, and re-microwaves her coffee every morning because she knows the world is cold. Kansas City and Richmond, Virginia are the two places she calls home; however discovering somewhere new makes for a wonderful day in her book.

The Issue of Our Time

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Jeff Bryan

I went to the NEXT Church National Gathering for two reasons: to see old friends, and rob them blind. By see, I mean reconnect, break bread, and revive my soul with the people I hold dear. By rob them, I mean steal their church ideas. I picked pockets all over the National Gathering, particularly the “Faith Formation in Your Family Room” workshop. I swiped every idea Amy Morgan put on the table, praise God. My ministry is better for it.

tsr_5620_webI did not go to NEXT expecting a third thing, my biggest takeaway: white supremacy. For the longest time, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around America. I’ve been reading articles, watching documentaries, listening to candidates and congregants and cousins, clenching my teeth. I’ve been trying to understand my own place in the world as a white, southern, male, Presbyterian, pastor of a “suit and tie” church in the deep south. Let’s add some more words to that list: progressive, husband, and father. I came to the NEXT National Gathering with a muddled mind in need of organization. In volleyball terms, Jesus gave me a bump—set—spike.

Allan Boseak’s presentation hit me hard. I was struck by his courage, experience, and insistence on justice and restitution. He left me dreaming, “What does restitution look like back in South Carolina?” Bump.

The testimony of Jessica Vazquez Torres completely blew me away. She framed the conversation so thoroughly, and articulated the concept of white supremacy so clearly, I felt relief. It relieved me to hear Ms. Torres pin down the evil behemoth so precisely. Bump, set.

My last workshop was “Engaging the Problem of White Fragility” with J.C. Austin. He further explained white supremacy, listed the ways white people misunderstand racism, led us in a storytelling exercise, and suggested further reading. I followed up with Mr. Austin via email, and he shared an amazing Robin DiAngelo article with me.  Spike.

I am convinced that white supremacy, in all its devilish variations, is the issue of our time. More so, Christ is screaming, calling us into the struggle against it.

When it comes to NEXT, I got what I came for: friendships and fresh ministry ideas. But God gave me all the more: a clearer understanding of myself, my context, and my calling as a pastor. Thank you, NEXT.

Jeff Bryan PhotoJeff Bryan is the Senior Pastor / Head of Staff at Oakland Avenue Presbyterian Church, Rock Hill, SC. Originally from northwest Georgia, he holds degrees from Berry College, Princeton Theological Seminary, and the Lutheran Seminary at Philadelphia. Jeff enjoys family time, basketball, and discovering new music.

Courage to Take the Right Road

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Doty Dunn

I am a child of the 60’s.  I was a flower child excited that “the times they were a changing.” I grew up in the segregated south in the former southern denomination, Presbyterian Church in the United States. I have witnessed tremendous changes in our society in my lifetime. Change has also occurred in the Presbyterian Church during this time, but the pace of this change has been much slower. I came to the NEXT Church National Gathering to learn what was on the horizon for PC(USA). By the end of the conference I came to realize what I already knew on some level: that there is much work left for us to do to become the church living out the gospel of Jesus Christ in our splintered and hurting world. We are indeed at the crossroads.

tsr_5487_webThe worship services were a highlight. All the preaching was outstanding, but the one voice I continue to hear is the beautiful voice of Aisha Brooks-Lytle. When she described her conversation with her young son, my heart broke. No child should have to live in fear for his life from an officer of the law. No parent should have to have this conversation with their child!

The testimonies were powerful and sometimes very unsettling. There was much to take in a very short time. I experienced emotional overload from hearing so many stories of injustice, hatred, bigotry, and apathy. My white privilege made me even more uncomfortable. It was good that I was in attendance at the conference with my pastor and other members of our congregation, so we could sort through our reactions to what we were hearing with each other.

The Ignite presentations were encouraging and planted seeds of hope in my heart. BUILD Baltimore sets the bar high, but I can see us adopting some of their ideas here in our much smaller community. We have many of the same issues. The visit to the King Center was a perfect way to spend the afternoon in quiet reflection before visiting Ebenezer Baptist Church and the Martin Luther King Sr. Community Resources Collaborative. To see my hometown of Albany, Georgia on the timeline at the center took me back to the time I saw Dr. King in the street in Albany. Memories of those times stirred up thoughts that I had not revisited in many years. At Ebenezer it was wonderful to see that the King legacy continues to flourish in the dynamic young people we met there and in the work they are doing.

To hear Allan Boesak speak was also quite a gift to me. He asked about the bruises we had experienced in our struggle for human rights and justice in our world. I thought about the hurt and bruises my own family and I received back in the 60’s for standing up for the rights of others. Those bruises are long gone. Perhaps it is time for me along with my church family to encounter some more. As we stand at the crossroads I pray we will have the courage to take the right road. The times they are a changing. Let’s be ready.

Doty DunnDoty Dunn is a ruling elder at First Presbyterian Church, Statesboro, Georgia.

 

 

Focusing the Spirit

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Andy Acton

The reason why I enjoy attending the NEXT National Gathering is because my mind and heart is always fed with a multitude of ideas from a variety of speakers, presentations, workshops, sermons, stories and worship services.  Each time that I feast on this cornucopia of creativity and truth-telling, I say to myself: “This is a lot of great stuff to chew on!”

tsr_4445_webAnd yet, it’s A LOT OF STUFF TO CHEW ON! There are so many amazing, wise, convicting, prophetic statements and concepts expressed at NEXT—so many “aha!” and “wow!” moments that my mind and heart actually become as stuffed as my stomach following a three course meal at a restaurant.

This is not a bad thing per se; however it’s challenging to figure out exactly what to do with the brand new thoughts swirling around. Immediately I start imagining how to share and implement every awesome idea I heard in the next month or two, but then quickly realize it’s too damn much and completely unrealistic. Thus, I end up feeling a bit bloated.

So it was nice and quite fitting that my last workshop toward the end of the conference happened to be “The Impact of Howard Thurman, Mystic and Model for Contemplative Social Activism.”

I began the session with some rudimentary knowledge about Thurman but I left the workshop knowing so much more about a beautiful preacher and prophet whose work on mindful meditation as a means to achieve nonviolent resistance influenced many prominent religious leaders in the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s.

However, with these new learnings, I didn’t feel inundated. My mind and heart were at ease. And that was because the workshop leaders played one of Thurman’s ruminations on caring for one’ self, which was aptly titled Meditations of the Heart.

During the audio recording, Thurman’s deep, resounding voice first invites the listener to “center down,” which he explains is “more than the concentration of the mind. It is the focusing of the spirit while the body is relaxed.” And then he begins:

How good it is to center down. I sit down and see myself pass by.

The streets of my mind seethe with endless traffic.

 

My spirit resounds with clashings, with noisy silences,

while something deep within hungers and thirsts for the still moment

and the resting lull.

 

With full intensity I seek for the quiet passes,

a fresh sense of order in my living; a direction, a strong sure purpose

that will structure my confusion and bring meaning in my chaos.

 

I look at myself in this waiting moment — What kind of person am I?

The questions persist:

 

What am I doing with my life? What are the motives that order my days?

Where am I trying to go? Where do I put the emphasis and where are my values focused? To what end do I make my sacrifices? Or do I make any?

 

Where is my treasure and what do I love most in life? Or perhaps, what do I hate most in life and to what am I true? Or what do I want to be true?

While Thurman continues to speak for several more minutes, this opening section of Meditations of the Heart allowed me to get away from the endless traffic and bring meaning to chaos. I no longer felt overwhelmed or pressured to make every NEXT idea an instant reality in my life and ministry.

Instead, I felt very much at peace with the realization that I don’t have to do it all at once and that I can take the time to discern from all of those ideas that I discovered about what is most important for me to do as a husband, father, preacher and follower of Jesus.

I’m continuing to figure it out. I’m asking questions in the waiting as opposed to producing answers. My mind and heart are hungering and thirsting for the still moment.

And that feels so much better than being over-full.

Andy photoAndy Acton is the associate pastor for High School Youth and Mission & Outreach at Pleasant Hill Presbyterian Church in Duluth, GA where he has served since 2008. He is the husband to the amazing Elizabeth, and father of two hilarious kids, Katie and Davis. You can read more of his writings and sermons on his blog Georgia Preacher: Musings On Life, Ministry and Culture from a Presbyterian Pastor Livin’ in the Peach State at http://georgiapreach.wordpress.com.

Numbness to Conviction, Fear to Faith

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

This post was originally shared on the Union Presbyterian Seminary RSGA blog.

by Laura Kelly

All of creation feels like it is aching in the pains of terror, violence, oppression, and injustice. And, prior to attending the NEXT Church National Gathering, I felt burnt out, numb, isolated, and like I was pleading for justice to an brick wall, my flawed confessions merely run amuck in the midst of all the noise.

laura_next_reflectionWhile listening to some of the speakers at NEXT, I found myself dancing again, the dance of liberation. My numbness turned to conviction, my fear to faith. With words from Denise Anderson and Jessica Vazquez Torres and Allan Boesak and Pastor Eesh, I couldn’t help but feel my cup begin to overflow, not for my own self benefit but for the world who is thirsty for living water. NEXT met me at the crossroads of the world’s pain and God’s abundant reconciling grace. NEXT forced me to consider how I might use my voice to respond and serve those who have been marginalized and forgotten. NEXT challenged the status quo – by shifting from a conversation of lament about a dying church to a call for an engaged church who uses its voice for denunciation of injustice in all spaces and places.

Allan Boesak challenged the church by sharing that when God has reconciled the world to God’s own loving self, God will ask us where our wounds are. If we say we have none, we also say that we had nothing to fight for. Yet, there is so much to fight for. Children drinking poison in Flint, refugees who have no place to lay their heads, violence erupting within sanctuary walls, and politics that seek to instill fear of other rather than love of neighbor. As these clashing sounds erupt in the sphere of public life, the church turns toward the vision of God’s creative order and we must dance until liberation flows from our mouths and hands and feet and into our lives unto a new and restored world reconciled to the love of the Triune God.

Three days in Atlanta with hundreds of inspiring stories. One lifetime to accept the challenge, and press on. Let’s do this.

laura kellyLaura Kelly is a final level M.Div. student at Union Presbyterian Seminary. Laura will begin the process towards board certification as a hospital chaplain as she embarks on her CPE Residency year at VCU Health System in the fall. She enjoys improv comedy, reading, writing liturgy, and spending time with people she loves. Laura loves the city of Richmond, and serves on the board for Richmonders Involved to Strengthen our Communities. Her favorite place in the world is a small village in Guatemala called “Chontala.”

Courage to Plant the Seeds of Change

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Ann Henderson

Challenge is the word that I hold on to as I contemplate my response to the 2016 NEXT Church National Gathering. Spending two and a half days immersed in meaningful worship, rich keynotes, and empowering real life examples of the church at work in our broken but beautiful world was…well… honestly, it was exhausting! But exhausting in a good way – the kind of exhausting that gives me more energy in the end; exhausting as in finishing a thought provoking book; or exhausting as in diving deep into an issue that I am completely passionate about; or exhausting as in knocking on doors for a political candidate; or exhausting as in serving meals at a local soup kitchen.  Exhausted but renewed, a paradox of sorts.

alison-harrington-audienceThe words of Pope Francis, quoted by keynote speaker Allan Boesak, circle around in my head and heart: Do we realize that something is wrong in a world where there are so many families without a home, so many laborers without rights, so many persons whose dignity is not respected? Do we realize that something is wrong where so many senseless wars are being fought? Do we realize something is wrong when the soil, water, air and living creatures of our world are under constant threat? So let’s not be afraid to say it: we need change; we want change.

On the one hand, I grieve the seeming lack of empathy in our world and in our churches. Yet on the other hand, the fact that these words are spoken by one of, if not the, most powerful religious leader on this earth gives me hope. As do many other things I saw and heard at NEXT… The Sanctuary church in Arizona where immigrants are welcomed and cared for gives me hope. Members from Baltimoreans United in Leadership Development (BUILD) warned us that “you can’t build what you can’t imagine,” challenging us to imagine a just economy, a community where racial divides are acknowledged and one that admits that black lives really do matter; a healthy earth, where clean air and water is valued; a world at peace…. They have imagined and listened and are seeing some positive change in the midst of despair in their community. This gives me hope. Members of some Atlanta area churches are graciously opening their buildings to their neighbors for after school education programs and to immigrant congregations for worship space. This gives me hope.

We might not enjoy the shade of the oak tree that we plant, we might not enter the promised land, change is a process, a struggle. In The Irony of American History, theologian Reinhold Niebuhr said, “Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope.” The NEXT Church National Gathering gave me hope and courage that we can  stand with our neighbors and plant the seeds of change.

Ann HendersonAnn Henderson is a ruling elder at First Presbyterian Church, Statesboro, Georgia.

It’s Our Job to Tell The Story

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

by Martha Spong

As a pastor who is also a writer, I’m fascinated by how ideas circulate and how easy it can be to feel you missed the moment for getting in on a conversation.[1] What can I add to the public discourse? Maybe it’s enough to stay quietly where I am and plug away diligently at my sermons, being careful not to offend anyone with my theological stances or political opinions. I don’t really feel that way, but perhaps you see the point: it’s easy to stay small and safe.

Aric Clark is a friend-I-had-never-met-before, a fellow blogger (Two Friars and a Fool) and an author (Never Pray Again). I attended his workshop, “LectionARIC: The Art of Hermeneutical Vlogging,” in which he made the case that the basic work of hermeneutics is part of what it means to be a practicing Christian. He asked, “How is it we with the best story to tell are the worst storytellers?” I know I often stop at the idea level; unless I have the absolute deadline of a Sunday morning sermon, I may let a thought float away. Aric makes the point that there are plenty of people thinking about ultimate matters (pain, suffering, death, climate change, war) without the framework our beautiful and redemptive story can offer, and we are letting the conversation happen without us. Aric commends Vlogging, or video blogging, as a way to meet people where they are and start a conversation. If we want to share our story, we need to use the medium that will reach people.

What if we find that prospect daunting? T. Denise Anderson is a blogger (SOULa Scriptura) who is also an “in real life” friend and colleague; we’ve worked on the RevGalBlogPals blog and book together, so I know she has important things to say and a powerful writing voice. I was excited to hear her preach at closing worship. She did not disappoint as she sent us out with a message reminding all present that we are appointed by God and do not need to worry about going out there alone to do God’s work, nor to be embarrassed by it. We must not give this crossroads in the life of the church all the power. God is with us in the work. And we’d better not try to talk ourselves out of doing God’s work; “staying stuck and staying stagnant is not an option” for us.

It’s our job to tell the story.

[1] See Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic for a story about a book concept she set aside only to hear that a friend was now writing on the same somewhat eccentric concept.

martha spongMartha Spong is the Executive Director of RevGalBlogPals, an ecumenical ministry engaged in creating resources and community for clergywomen.

Permission to Say “Yes”

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

This post is an expansion of one originally shared on the Union Presbyterian Seminary RSGA blog.

by Rosy Robson

As a self-proclaimed over-programmed, very busy, major to-do-list-keeper, always-behind-on-reading seminary student, I’m often told that I need to start learning how to say “no.” Yet I appreciate NEXT Church for giving me permission to say “yes.”

rosy_ng_reflectionTo say “yes” to admitting our fears and lamenting over the parts of the church that we must say goodbye to, and to the parts that bring us pain. To say “yes” to confessing as to where we’ve gone wrong and to whom we’ve done wrong. To say “yes” to dreaming about where God is calling us to go and about who God is calling us to be in this crazy century we find ourselves in. To say “yes” to pastoring communities, not just parishes, in ways that are innovative, unique, inclusive and creative. To say “yes” to building meaningful relationships with colleagues and mentors. To say “yes” to daring to be a prophetic witness to God’s love for the world.

But now, the hard part awaits… How will we go forth from the NEXT Church National Gathering, and proclaim “yes”?

Since returning from the Gathering, I have tried to look over a few pages of my conference notes each day. In my prayers, I’ve been asking God and myself what am I being called to do next, in response to the insights, thoughts and challenges that filled my mind at NEXT and in the days following. The things that have come to mind include:

  • Getting serious about the elimination of racism and white supremacy and examining my own privilege.
  • Forging stronger relationships with those whom I call mentors.
  • Exploring how churches and communities are being partners in ministry together.
  • Daring to shape the rest of my time in seminary in ways that are transformative and eye-opening and, that ask me to examine what the church that I will one day serve will look like (and to practice some of that over the next two years).

This is no easy question, nor is it something that a few extra additions to my to-do list will satisfy (though, perhaps that’s a good place to start). NEXT Church asks a larger question of the church, about its identity and its future, one that we must continue to ask as we dare to follow Jesus in an uncertain world.

Asking these questions takes us along a winding and long road, but I pray a prayer of “yes” to God’s Spirit guiding me along the way.

rosy robsonRosy Robson is a second-year M.Div/M.A.C.E. student at Union Presbyterian Seminary. Rosy is passionate about creating spaces where people can come together and build relationships, whether that’s worshipping together in a pew or over a basket of tacos at a local eatery. Rosy feels called to parish ministry and is looking forward to discerning how bonds between church and community can be forged and strengthened.

New Life for Dry Bones

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Each month, we post a series of blogs around a common topic. This month, MaryAnn McKibben Dana is curating reflections from our 2016 National Gathering. Watch this space for thoughts from a wide variety of folks, especially around the question, What “stuck”? What ideas, speakers, workshops or worship services are continuing to work on your heart as you envision “the church that is becoming?” We’ll be hearing from ruling elders, teaching elders, seminarians, and more. We invite you to join the conversation on Facebook and Twitter!

This post was originally shared on Carolyn’s blog, “Deep Thoughts of a Common Household Mom.”

by Carolyn Gibbs

I sat down at the table. The man next to me muttered, “Might as well hang me now.” The woman to the right of me picked up the block of clay in front of her and started kneading it enthusiastically. I looked at my block of clay and waited for instructions, like a proper Presbyterian. Yep, that’s the gamut of likely responses in an “Arts in Worship” workshop at the Next Church National Gathering.

fear creativity crossroadsI was eager to attend this workshop, thinking it would give us ideas on how to incorporate various kinds of art into our worship service. It turns out we were going to make art ourselves! How fun! Or how threatening! Or both!

Despite the fear, I immensely enjoyed responding to scripture through painting, even though I have zero artistic skill. I feel a great longing to be creative in connection with worship. I think that I am the only one who feels this way. To paraphrase the prophet Ezekiel, “my bones are dried up, my hope is lost, I am cut off completely.” God’s creative breath of life is in our worship, mostly through music, but perhaps we are missing out in not exploring other forms of creativity.

A longer description of the workshop is below, for those who are interested.

How do you like to express your creativity? If you are part of a worshiping community, would you be willing to participate in an art project as part of worship? Or would you make sure you had to be out of town that day?

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As the workshop started, we were encouraged to fiddle around with the block of clay in front of us. We had no instructions regarding the clay. We continued to work with it if we wished, as we started the discussion. There were two tables, with about 8 people at each table.

First we discussed how non-artistic adults generally feel about doing art. Art (and any creativity, really) is viewed as fine for kids, but adults just don’t go there. This workshop was about why adults should go there.

The workshop leader must have had a time machine on my life. She described exactly what happened to me in second grade art class, when we painted a scene on a tile. I was quite pleased with my scene of ducks and grass. The art teacher denigrated it; the words are long forgotten, but the feeling is not. Almost all of us encounter something similar on the way to adulthood. Our human capacity for judgment and comparison takes over, and those of us who don’t have artistic talent stop making art at all. It’s just too scary and painful to endure the judgment from others and ourselves.

Then we talked about confronting that fear and leaping into creativity. Making art unleashes freedom, joy, and wholeness, and that’s just for starters. If you believe that you are created in the image of God (the original creativity maven) then exercising your creativity is an excellent way of showing it. Why should only kids be able to do this?! Why should only those with innate artistic talent be able to do this?!

In our workshop it turned out that the clay was just a warm-up to our main activity – painting a large banner. Like most art, our painting was to be based on other art, and was to follow rules. We were instructed to base our painting on our response to the Bible passage about Ezekiel’s vision of God breathing life into dry bones (Ezekiel 37).

We had a few minutes to discuss what images the passage evoked in us. I think this discussion helped a lot, when it came time to start painting. But before starting to paint, the rules:

  • First, paint on the space in front of you. Paint your own response to the passage.
  • After a few minutes, everyone is to move two spaces to the left and continue painting. You may not erase, obliterate, or cover up what the person before painted in their spot. You may embellish and extend their painting, or start painting in a new spot. After a few minutes, go two more spaces to the left and extend that person’s painting. Finally, return to your original spot and fill in spaces as you see fit.
  • No talking! This meant we could not collaborate. We could not form a committee to plan what to paint, or where. (That is extremely un-Presbyterian.) It also meant we could not offer any evaluation of each others’ art. We could not issue comments on our own efforts. This was crucial – no compliments, no criticisms. A compliment of one person’s art could be construed by someone else as an implicit criticism of their own art. (“You liked her art, but didn’t say anything about mine.”)
  • The workshop leader told us where the top of the banner would be. She also said that there were pieces of tape running across the canvas, and she had prepared our canvas by painting blue over the whole canvas. After our art expressions had dried she would be pulling off the tape, creating bold lines across our art work.

fruitful_worship artWe started painting. At first I felt that familiar sense of self-criticism. I started by drawing a kindergartenish slab of grass, thinking of “the fruitful land” from the passage. Being more of a “words” person than a “drawing” person, I wondered if I could dare to write a word instead of just painting shapes and colors. I dared. But which word? I chose “fruitful”. I felt I should paint it upside down (my area was at the top of the canvas) so that the word would be displayed right side up. This was challenging.

After a bit it was time to switch spots. I was perplexed after switching. It felt wrong to mess with what someone else had painted. It almost felt as if that spot was now sacred. Instead of painting within that person’s area, I tried to extend from that area, reaching more into the middle of the canvas.

By the time we switched again, I was feeling more bold, and reached into the middle to start a new shape. I painted the words “new life” in the middle of the canvas. Then I decided to paint a cell to represent a form of life and honor my sweet Younger Daughter and her interest in cells.

When we were finished we had a great sense of ownership and accomplishment at having created a work of art together. I do not know or care if it is beautiful in the eyes of the world, but it is ours, our expression of the scripture. When our canvas was displayed in the worship space the next day, I again felt like a kindergartner, proud to have my work up on the refrigerator.

new life worship bannerI just have to add that I believe that it is good and right to have beautiful art, created by truly talented professional artists, in our worship spaces. It can be appropriate to evaluate sacred art and display what is inspiring. In fact, if we non-artists are to do art, we need the professional artists, who figure out things like how big the canvas should be, what kind of paint is best, how long to let it dry, how to display it.

Our workshop group did not create our banner in order for it to be evaluated or compared to professional art. It is valuable in that we ourselves made it as an expression of our connection to holiness. For me personally, it felt like new life for my dry bones which are longing, aching, yearning to be creative in worship.

To see more photos, visit Carolyn’s blog.

Carolyn 2016-02-29Carolyn Gibbs serves as a ruling elder at Hiland Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh, PA. She blogs at commonhousehold.blogspot.com and enjoys expressing her creativity through writing, raising children, and trying to figure out what to make for dinner.