New Paths

If you were unable to attend the All-Church Council meeting on Sunday, you missed an exciting and invigorating presentation by members of the Vision Task Force. (You can view the presentation for yourself here.)

I assembled a group of 14 members of the church, most of them new-ish to the church, and tasked them with the job of looking at the vision and mission of the church, and evaluating our strengths and weaknesses with an eye toward pushing us forward.

They have met six times since last December, and have given me lots of food for thought. They took seriously the church’s own mission statement, and decided to make it shorter, snappier, and action-able.

The old mission statement: “We are a community of hope, founded in faith, fostering spiritual growth, and meeting human needs by reflecting God's love in Christ's name.”

The new proposed mission statement: “As disciples of Christ at Kessler Park UMC, we Welcome, Connect, Grow and Help.”

You will notice that the new statement focuses on four simple words. The group came up with these words when we pondered the questions, “How does one move from being an occasional observer to an intentional disciple at KPUMC?” and “What are the signs or markers that one is progressing?”

The group determined that there are four markers of a disciple at KPUMC. First, one is welcomed unconditionally into the community, and extends unconditional welcome to others. This is a hallmark of the KPUMC ethos; our decision to be a Reconciling Congregation affirmed this desire.

Second, a disciple is connected to others, not simply through attendance at Sunday worship, but through small groups, Sunday School classes, and other opportunities for fellowship. Nobody can be a Lone Ranger disciple; the walk of faith demands fellow travelers.

Third, a disciple is always growing closer to God. This is done intentionally through participation in worship, Bible study, and spiritual practices, such as prayer, labyrinth-walking, fasting, and meditation.

And fourth, a disciple is ready to help others, by getting her hands dirty in the mess of ordinary life. This can happen through formal and informal missions, as well as advocacy work for social justice.

That’s how these four words — Welcome, Connect, Grow, and Help — became the heart of the proposed mission statement. They are a very simple and concise summary of the Christian life.
They also make a handy and useful “discipleship path” for the church. In other words, when someone asks us, “What does it mean to be a member of KPUMC and a follower of Christ?” we can answer with confidence, “It means you are welcome here, and you’re invited to connect with others, grow closer to God, and help those in need alongside us.”

It’s so simple, and yet so full of rich potential and hope!

The Vision Task Force would love to hear your comments, opinions, and suggestions about their work. Please look at the presentation here, and then forward your thoughts and questions to ashbryan09@gmail.com.

The next step will be for the Church Council to hear conversation about, and take a vote on, the proposed new mission and vision statements, which will happen in the next Church Council meeting, scheduled for Wednesday, June 27, at 7 pm. All are invited to attend.

I’m energized by this, as I hope you are. More significant to me than the results and findings of this task force is the fact that 14 people, some of them strangers to each other at the outset, bared their hearts and joined their minds together in a common effort to make Kessler Park UMC stronger and more vibrant. This church has a strong future!

My sincere thanks to all who participated, including: Sally Climer, Josh Deluna, Ashley Flores, Bridgette Hardy, Avia Haynes, Mattie Jette, Kacy Jones, Charity Meeker, John Mitchener, Barry Nash, John Ogren, Robert Rodgers, Donald Shugart, and Chris Shultz.

Risk Big

    I walked out of a church committee meeting recently with something weighing on my  mind. We had made some solid decisions, but something bothered me. I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
    The dog woke me up early the next morning as she often does, and as I was trying to go back to sleep, in the fog of drowsiness, I had an epiphany. I suddenly realized what was wrong with our meeting: we had made our decisions out of anxiety and fear, out of a kind of fear of what might happen if, instead of from a sense of anticipation and hope.
    As I lay there in bed, I reviewed our decision-making. We had voiced concerns about “what to do”; we had discussed worst-case scenarios; we spent plenty of time talking about why we couldn’t, or shouldn’t, do something.
    That’s what committees do best, to be honest. Committees are inherently conservative; they exist to protect institutions, and safeguard what the institution does and owns.
    There’s nothing wrong with that, except that institutions have to also grow and adapt to change. Organizations must experiment and risk and dare. There have to be counterbalances to committees.
    This is especially true of a church. A church is supposed to represent the presence of Christ in the world, and so it must be quickly responsible and adaptable to the leading and guidance of the Holy Spirit. And it must be resistant to anxiety.
    We are to be led by faith, not by fear; we are not supposed to act out of anxiety. As Paul put it in II Timothy 1:7, “God didn’t give us a spirit that is timid but one that is powerful, loving, and self-controlled.” The old King James Version put it like this: “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”
    Sometimes I wonder if I act like I have a “spirit of fear” rather than the Holy Spirit. Sometimes I wonder if our church committees do the same.
    When we make decisions based on anxiety, we are too cautious for our own good. We start looking inward, we worry about things we can’t control, and we stop dreaming.
    I know that this is a dangerous world. This is a world in which there are too many guns, too many wounded and damaged people, too many addictions. This is a world where too many nations have nuclear weapons, and too many world leaders think only of their job security. This is a world where fewer and fewer people go to church, more and more activities compete with Sunday morning worship, and the public reputation of Christians has never been lower. This is a world where the United Methodist Church as a denomination is irreparably divided, and on the verge of a split.
    These things are all true, but they don’t mean that we should close our doors, fire all the staff, and go home. Not at all.
    The way forward is in the opposite direction. The world needs Jesus, and the world needs us. We’re needed now more than ever. And so, rather than being cautious, we ought to go bigger. Now is the time to find more resources, spend more money on kingdom work, become more active, do more mission, find more social justice causes to support, sing more songs, and preach more sermons!
    If this makes you nervous and anxious, just remember what I say every week in our benediction — “May God give you the grace to risk something big for something good.”
    It’s time to risk big.

To Live a Ghost Story

Last weekend, our neighborhood was the site of the sixth annual Oak Cliff Film Festival. Thanks to a sponsoring church member, I had access to a VIP pass, which enabled me to attend quite a few films over the weekend.

I geek out over film festivals; my favorites are the shorts and documentaries. But this year, I also got to see the big closing feature film, “A Ghost Story,” written and directed by local David Lowery.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I saw our very own church members, Margot and Sylvie Tomerlin, in a scene! (Spoiler alert: they played pioneer kids in a covered wagon.) I have no doubt that one or the other will end up being a famous performer; remember that Margot is our star liturgical dancer!

The film itself was an eye-opener. Don’t let the title or the marketing materials fool you; this is not a horror film, nor even a suspenseful thriller. And the one best-known actor in the film, Casey Affleck, spends most of the film under a white sheet. To be honest, “A Ghost Story” fits more comfortably in the “arthouse” genre. But don’t let that designation fool you either — the film is accessible to anyone who has just a little more patience than the average “Fast and Furious” filmgoer.

It’s certainly a different kind of movie from most Hollywood fare. For example, a few of the scenes are single takes that last four or five minutes. In one instance, Rooney Mara, playing a bereaved young widow, walks into her apartment and eats an entire pie. The whole thing is captured in only two shots, each of which seem to last forever. But the scene portrays grief in the most authentic manner I have ever seen on-screen.

The film is also very quiet. There is little dialogue, not much background music. Only natural sounds of night and quiet meadows. And so it gives the viewer the chance to really engage, not only intellectually, but emotionally with the striking images.

Yes, the story is about a ghost. The ghost walks around with a white sheet over his head. It sounds gimmicky, but it works in a very interesting way. He doesn’t come across as spooky or ethereal. Rather, the ghost is a clear symbol of loss, of a void.

The ghost functions as a screen upon which the viewer projects his or her own fears about belonging and identity. As I watched the ghost, I found myself wondering about the weighty matters of faith, love, and spirit. It wasn’t so much about the question of the afterlife, but upon what remains when one dies.

This particular ghost found himself rooted to one specific space; his identity was tied up in one location in a very particular period of time. As the people and things which inhabit his space disappear over time, the ghost becomes more and more disoriented; he becomes rootless and restless.

The point is clear: we humans inhabit time and space. Everything we do is bound by our place on the earth, limited by the seventy or eighty years we are given. We can’t transcend those dimensions as human beings, no matter how much we may strive to make ourselves “immortal.”

Only God transcends the dimensions of space and time. And God’s revelation in Jesus Christ makes plain to us what ultimately lasts, what goes on into the distant future, beyond our limited lifespan. Three things remain in the end — faith, hope, and agape/love — says the apostle Paul (I Cor. 13:13).

What matters is faith — the unconditional trust that we place in God’s love.

What matters is hope — the undying flicker of possibility in the future, however distant.

What matters is agape — the love that gives unconditionally and completely to the other.

These are the things that go on, that remain.

I know that I will die someday. But I sure hope that I don’t find myself in a white sheet, loitering around the house long after my death. Instead, I hope to find myself in God’s presence, enjoying the shalom I have sought all my life.

And I pray that my acts of faith, hope, and agape will last for a little while, at least, if only to encourage those who come after me to do the same.