Lots of ministers I know are planning for renewal leave. This makes me so happy! I celebrate alongside the clergy who are getting a break from their rewarding yet demanding vocation, and I am grateful for congregations who see the value of an extended time away for ministers.

Renewal leave is different than vacation. It’s not just about the length, which is usually measured in months rather than weeks. There’s much more trust involved on both sides. Pastors count on their people to carry on the work of the church. Congregations expect that their ministers will return to them with energy and creativity after the time away.

Because renewal leave is significant for all involved, I have written the following prayer for the clergyperson’s last worship service before leaving. Feel free to use it as you see fit. It will work best with the minister reading her/his/their respective parts and a lay leader leading the people in the lines from the chancel.

People: On the seventh day of creation, God took a step back from all that hard, holy work and rested. 

Minister: That rejuvenation, just like all of creation, was very good.

People: And so it was that God wove the design for replenishment into the fabric of creation itself.

Minister: All of us, made in God's very image, are intended to take time away for renewal. 

People: We celebrate today that our minister is taking a season for purposeful rest.

Minister: I love you all, and I love being your minister. 

People: We love you, and we are grateful for your leadership and care and for the chance to be in ministry with you.

Minister: This time away will help me be the best possible minister for you. It will permit me to tend more fully to my body, mind, and spirit so that I can help you do the same.

People: This time away will help us be the best possible partners for you. [Choose one of the following here: “It will allow us time to prepare ourselves for the next season of ministry” or “It will call upon us to step into gaps caused by your absence and allow us to own even more our gifts for leadership.”]

Minister: Thank you for this opportunity to take renewal leave. I bless you during this season when we are apart, yet always together as parts of Christ's body.

People: Thank you for modeling sabbath for us in the midst of a world that too often prioritizes productivity. We bless you during this season when we are apart, yet always together as parts of Christ's body.

All: At the end of this renewal leave, may we look back and know, as people created by God and continually re-created by rest, that it was very good for us all.

Photo by Yu Kato on Unsplash.

I love the work I do, and I feel like I am more faithfully using my gifts than at any other point in my vocational life. I know that for a variety of reasons, many gifted pastors are now exploring different ways to live out their calls to ministry. This new path might include coaching, consulting, spiritual direction, founding a nonprofit organization, creating art, writing books, developing spiritual formation resources, and much more. This venture might be part of a multi-vocational professional life, or it might be the primary focus. I celebrate the many possibilities!

Starting and sustaining something from scratch is often not easy, though. We all need to get and give support and wisdom to keep at whatever we are building. I have been mulling whether to gather a monthly gathering of spiritual entrepreneurs to meet those needs. Here is a form where you can note your interest if you are a spiritual entrepreneur. The form will remain open through the end of May so that I can plan for a possible start date in August or September of a three-month experiment. If you complete the form, look for an email from me in June about what this monthly meet-up might look like based on your responses and how you can join it.

Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash.

[Warning: depending on where you are in your viewing of Ted Lasso, this post might spoiler-y for you.]

For a long time I resisted Ted Lasso. To be honest, it wasn’t that hard. I didn’t have Apple TV, because my spouse/IT support refuses to let Apple devices through our door. But then I got a free trial and, long story short, I will probably pay for Apple TV until I die or it ceases to exist, whichever comes first. There are a lot of good shows on there.

So now I’m all caught up on Ted. You might be, as I am, fascinated by the evolution of the character Nate Shelley from self-deprecating kit man (glorified water boy) to assistant coach with an uncanny knack for game strategy to seemingly evil mastermind and manager of a rival team. Underneath his arrogance and meanness, though, Nate clearly has some unresolved identity and worthiness issues. When he finds himself needing to be more blustery than he feels, he finds a mirror and spits on it. Then he can stand tall and confident.

This habit is obviously not without its issues, least of which is that it’s really unsanitary. But it did make me wonder, what is your hack for settling into your best self, the fullness of your wisdom, the authority vested in you by your training, experience, and role? We all have those moments when we need to stretch ourselves to all the length and height we can muster. Maybe it’s because we are in a conflictual situation. Maybe it’s because someone is trying to go around us. Maybe it’s because we’re in a room full of well-known, well-respected, and/or very charismatic people, and we need to remember that we belong in that space.

Whatever the reason, we need a way to connect to our calling, our values, and all that we bring to the table. A shortcut, if you will, for remembering who we are - an action, a mantra, an image, a literal touchstone.

What is yours?

Mystery/thriller writer Harlan Coben’s Myron Bolitar series used to be a guilty pleasure of mine. There was a point in the last decade in which I was gobbling up two or three books per week. Then the 2016 election happened, and I took a long, hard look at my reading list. Coben is a great author, but I needed a lot less machismo and a lot more diversity.

I didn’t pick up any more of his books until I needed a quick read last week. I tore through The Boy From the Woods, the first in Coben’s new series. I was cruising along until a character (who bears a lot of similarities to our most recent former president) spouts off a PR plan in response to the release of a video in which he is sexually harassing a woman who might or might not legally be an adult. The character tells his people to put out all of the following messages and more: it’s a training tape about proper workplace behavior, it was a run-through of the woman’s (nonexistent) Me Too screenplay, she was asking for the harassment, the tape was faked.

Again, Coben is a great writer, but I remembered then why I took him off my reading list for my own mental health. The calculating nature of this character was too much for me. How do we work for change in the world when so many people will do anything to preserve their own power?

At the same time I was reading parts of Martha Beck’s The Way of Integrity for my DMin ethics class. (Talk about whiplash.) I grabbed onto one of her concepts in chapter 14: everywhere in nature there are fractals, which are patterns that reiterate infinitely, forming versions of themselves at different sizes. What this means is if we are able to live in our integrity, faithfully doing the internal and external work to which we have been called, that work scales up so that we are shaping the people around us and the institutions in which we participate. It might not be very visible - we must have eyes to see the fractals in nature, much less in human interactions - but it is happening as surely as hydrogen atoms bonding together in rings of six when water molecules collide at low temperatures, creating snowflakes made up of variations on a hexagon shape.

So take heart. Root yourself in your values. Use your gifts. Stay true to your call. You are changing the world from the ground up. If enough of us do this, the lie-perpetuators and power-hoarders don’t stand a chance.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash.

It is now just over two weeks into the Easter season. If you are a Christian minister who was in the pulpit on Easter Sunday, you could not avoid mentioning the women who were called to be the first Christian preachers.

It didn’t matter which Gospel you used. In Matthew, the Marys are commissioned by both the angel and Jesus to go tell the disciples about Jesus’ resurrection. In Mark, the young man in the tomb gives a similar directive to the Marys and Salome. In Luke, the women who had come from Galilee with Jesus encounter two men in dazzling clothes who announce to them that Jesus is alive, and the women relay this message to the disciples. And in John, Mary Magdalene is the first person to encounter the risen Christ, and he asks her to let the disciples know that he is about to return to God. The details vary from account to account, but in all of them, faithful women are first called to proclaim the resurrection, which is the heart of the Christian story.

And yet, plenty of people still believe that women are not fit for ministry. Even more think they wouldn’t make good lead pastors, even if they don’t say this quiet part out loud. I’ve written elsewhere about how churches can do the work to be ready for a female pastor. But do you know who could potentially be the best ally for clergywomen? Male senior pastors, particularly those with clergywomen in second chair positions (e.g., associate pastor or ministers of specific age groups or programs - I’ll shorthand them all as associate pastors for the purposes of this post). If that’s you, here’s what you can do:

Go by a similar title. By this I mean if you ask to be called “Pastor [your name],” call the clergywomen on your staff “Pastor [their names]” rather than simply their first names (or, heaven forbid, “Miss [their names]”). Encourage church members to address them that way too.

Close the wage gap. I cannot tell you how many churches I know of in which the male senior pastor is making six figures and the women on staff are barely making a subsistence wage. (Yes, there can be differences in levels of experience and responsibility that must be factored in, but not to the tune of an $60-80K disparity.) Find ways to raise the clergywomen’s salaries or sacrifice some of your own to make take home pay more equitable.

Advocate for a parental leave policy. Whether or not you have young children or children at all, ensure there is a just parental leave policy in place at your church. (If you’re not sure what a just policy looks like, contact your judicatory and ecumenical colleagues for examples.) If a new child comes into your family, use the policy in full so that it becomes seen as a parent thing, not a woman thing, to go on this kind of leave.

Collaborate with clergywomen whenever possible. Look for ways to partner with female clergy at your church and other churches. Don’t just limit yourself to teaming up with ordained women, though. Pull women into your church’s lay leadership pipeline.

Share credit liberally with clergywomen when genuine and appropriate. “She did this this thing. Isn’t it great?” “We did this thing together. It is wonderful to have such a great partner in ministry!” On the flip side, support clergywomen when they are attacked by critics and naysayers for illegitimate reasons.

Model good boundaries. Some lead pastors work 60+ hours a week but tell their associate pastors that they don’t want them to overfunction. It doesn’t work that way no matter how good the intention. Senior pastors set the tone for associate pastors’ (many of whom are women) expectations of themselves and churches’ expectations of the entire pastoral staffs. The associate pastors will seem less available, interested, and capable if they stick to the hours they are paid for, and they will juggle an unsustainable load (which can include parenting younger children, caring for aging parents, and carrying the mental load of the household and often that of the church) if they don’t.

Amplify female voices. Welcome your own female clergy and laity into preaching and worship leadership. Invite women outside your church to preach, teach, and lead. Look for gifts in women in your church that they don’t yet see themselves. This creates a culture of call for women. I didn’t see a woman on the chancel for any reason other than singing or making an announcement until I was in seminary. (The first time I did, I sobbed with joy and relief that I wasn’t alone or hearing God incorrectly.)

Be a great reference. Many clergywomen will eventually want to be lead pastors. Talk up your female associate pastors and other clergywomen you know to others before they even begin looking for lead pastor opportunities. (This is especially helpful since some churches now search for a pastor exclusively using informal networks and looking for ministers who aren’t currently seeking a new position.) Give them outstanding recommendations. Celebrate when they leave to take on larger roles.

If I had to boil all this down, I’d simply say, “Normalize women in leadership and share your power.” That’s easier said than done. But some male senior pastors are already doing aspects of this. (Thank you!) And what could be more true to the Gospel in this season that started with women being the first ones trusted and commissioned by the Divine to preach the good news than to support clergywomen’s voices and leadership?

Every year the International Coaching Federation observes International Coaching Week, a global celebration that educates about the value of working with a professional coach. One of the ways ICF does this is by encouraging coaches to offer pro bono sessions to those who haven’t yet experienced the power of coaching. I happily participate because I love coaching, I know coaching offers results, and I get to meet new people!

If you are a minister and have never been coached by me, I invite you to sign up here for a free 30-minute session by phone or Zoom that will take place May 8-11. You are welcome to share this link/post with others who might be interested as well.

Why should you try coaching? It is leadership development that is completely customized for you and your context. It takes place on your schedule. It engages your own wisdom, experiences, and resources, meaning you will be more invested in taking the steps to move forward that come out of coaching. And coaching can address almost any professional or personal topic. If there is a gap between where you are and where you want to be, coaching can be effective in that gap.

I look forward to talking with you soon.

Pastors are in a tough spot these days. The Church as an institution is in the midst of major change that pre-dated the pandemic but was quickly accelerated by it. Those we looked forward to seeing after Covid still haven’t rejoined us. The budget is tightening. The volunteers are burned out. And each person in the pew comes bearing big worries, some of them personal and many of them shared: political rhetoric is becoming more and more divisive, and we know that injustice, climate change, and gun violence endanger each of us. That means we are all a little on edge. That makes us all a little harder to shepherd.

When we are anxious, we can get stuck in the parts of our brain designed to protect us. Our brain is wonderfully made to focus all our resources on survival when we face a physical threat. Unfortunately, this set-up is less helpful when needing to have a hard or uncomfortable conversation than it is when we are faced with a hungry or threatened predator. Our brain chemistry locks us out of our creativity and openness to possibilities and instead urges us to take what seems like the shortest route to safety and stability.

Enter: anonymous feedback. An unsigned note or a verbal message passed through a third party might seem like the best way to give your pastors a quick check on the pulse of the congregation (or, at least, of one member of it) while sparing both of you some trouble. But here’s why that feedback might not be as effective as you hope:

It separates the criticism from needed context. For feedback to be useful, the one being critiqued needs to be able to ask further questions (e.g., what was it about this that really troubled you? Who specifically are the people upset by this?). And often there is a pastoral care issue beneath a criticism, which cannot be unearthed and addressed if there's not conversation. 

It doesn't follow scriptural witness about conflict. Matthew 18 tells us that the first step in resolving friction is for the offended party to go directly to the one who offended, even (perhaps especially) if the offense was unintentional. Subsequent actions include bringing other people into the conversation if necessary. Nowhere in Matthew 18 is there mention of anonymous feedback.

It puts the receiver of the feedback in an awkward position. Family systems theory teaches us about triangulation, in which someone is roped into being the middle person in a relationship rift. That triangulated person might have little to no stake in the presenting issue, but they are caught between the hopes and needs of two people with which they must interact.  

It puts the pastor in a defensive posture. If your pastor doesn't know who is giving this feedback, that is a recipe for high anxiety: who is upset with me? Who is looking more closely for me to slip up? Whom can I trust? These questions are distractions from - not conditions for - fruitful ministry. 

It doesn't contribute toward forward-looking solutions to the issue. If a situation is concerning enough that you need to offer feedback, it's important that you are also willing to help look for a way to resolve it. That requires working together with those involved, which isn't possible when feedback is given via an unsigned note.

It deprives both parties of the chance to strengthen the relationship. It might seem counter-intuitive, but sometimes the most trusting relationships come when the people involved were willing to be honest and vulnerable with each other about disappointment or disagreement. Take that chance!

Luckily, we have more helpful ways to take our thoughts to the people who lead us. Lay leaders can set these expectations and procedures in place to get the kind of information that they and the pastor can use:

Consistently refuse to entertain anonymous criticisms. Make it policy that unsigned feedback will be trashed, remind the church about that policy regularly, and stick to it. People will have to decide whether the issue is important enough to them to be more direct in their feedback.

Create clear feedback loops and educate the congregation about them. What, then, is the best way for pastors and lay leaders to receive comments? Name the how (e.g., by filling out a form? setting up an appointment?), the when (e.g., anytime except right before worship), and the who (e.g., the pastor or personnel committee). 

Don't wait until annual reviews to share feedback with the pastor. Many ministers dread annual reviews because it has become a time to pile on all the congregation's frustrations and survival anxieties from the year prior. Feedback is much more helpful when it is specific and timely. 

Encourage positive feedback as well. Your pastors need to hear what you appreciate about their ministries. They will be better able to receive your critiques if they know you see their gifts as well as their shortcomings. As with negative comments, specific and timely feedback is the most useful. 

We all get anxious and frustrated at times. That means we care. But those feelings are also signals that we need to make an effort to tap into our higher brain functioning by interrupting the idea that we are in imminent danger (by such means as taking deep breaths, going for a walk, or watching a funny video). When we do, we can have productive, substantive conversations that allow us all to be the body of Christ together, working in concert to share the love of God in a troubled and troubling world.

Photo by lilartsy on Unsplash.

One of the most helpful classes I took early in my coach training was about change, transition, and transformation. (The class content built on the work of William Bridges, who was an expert in these areas.) Often we lump the three terms together, but they are actually quite different:

• Change is a shift in our circumstances. It is external. We can choose it, or it can be forced upon us.

• Transition is a response to change. It is learning to see things differently as a result of our shift in circumstances. Our insides work to catch up to what is going on outside of us.

• Transformation is a wholly new way of not just seeing things differently but being in the world differently. We are fundamentally altered because we have so fully embraced change.

We do not go directly from change to transformation. There is that transition time in the middle in which what was is now in the rearview, but what is yet to come and whom we are yet to be are still in the future. Think of this neutral zone as a bridge between two realities. One of the functions of bridges is to carry us over water or roads. Not having solid ground underneath feels very precarious for a lot of people, including me. Yet there we are, left having to move forward, not just stay parked in the middle of that bridge - even if we can’t fully see what’s on the other side.

In our lives we have all found ourselves on the bridge at one time or another, prompted by a move, a job change, a birth or death close to us, or an injury that has altered how we move about the world. In 2020 people all across Earth found ourselves in a neutral zone. There was a sudden call to go from all that was familiar into lockdown. If we got out of our house, we needed to mask and physically distance. If we brought anything from the outside into our home, we were told, at least at first, to wipe it down for pathogens. Schools ended the year abruptly. Churches moved community online. Nothing felt familiar anymore. We couldn’t hug our people. We couldn’t go to the places we wanted. We couldn’t observe milestones in the ways we were used to. And how long would we be in this profound disorientation? The epidemiologists were saying from the start of Covid’s spread that – optimistically – we were in a 2-3 year event, though many of us, including me, could not hear that for a long time. We just reacted to a drastic shift in circumstances. But when weeks turned into months, we adjusted our way of thinking: ok, we are now in a global pandemic. There is no quick fix. We will do what we must in order to get through this, one day at a time. Our seeing realigned with our doing. To some extent we are still in the latter part of the Covid neutral zone. The virus is very much still with us, and we don’t yet know what a world where we are fundamentally changed by our pandemic experience will look like. Thankfully, we have a lot more knowledge and tools now to blunt its effects.

As a result of Covid and so many other changes in the world, many of us individually and collectively are in our own neutral zones. Maybe we’re doing things differently because we have to. Maybe we’re even seeing things in new ways because of our shifted circumstances. We’re still on that bridge, though. So what do we need to get to the other side?

• Celebrate what was without getting stuck in it. What is the legacy that you are taking with you into the neutral zone that can help you navigate it well? What are the values to which you will stay true, no matter what the future looks like?

• Cultivate your noticing that that God is working in, among, and through you. Sometimes it’s hard to see, but we never leave­ God’s compassionate presence and the hope of communal salvation that Jesus offers.

• Assess the tools at hand. Every person, every group, every congregation has a wealth of gifts that put you in position to cross the bridge. Maybe they need to be redistributed, but you have – and are – enough.

• Ask lots of questions. ­­What if…? I wonder what…? When we stay in that stance of thoughtful and playful curiosity, or even faithful doubt, creativity and possibility are available to us.

• Trust in and mutually support one another. The neutral zone is not the place to get stranded or to strand others. This is a bridge best navigated together.

The good news is that we don’t have to transform ourselves. We just have to open our hearts and our minds to God’s invitations, being confident that when we do, God will work in us in ways that don’t just fundamentally alter us but also the world around us.

 Photo by Modestas Urbonas on Unsplash.

“When [your former pastor doesn’t set boundaries], the incoming minister will have a shorter tenure than necessary, because it’s hard to compete with a beloved predecessor who won’t go away. So, the cycle of the departure of the pastor, the interim time, the search for a new minister and the installation of that leader begins again. This is costly to a congregation in terms of energy and money. It particularly lessens momentum in fulfilling its mission.

“So how can we all make this transition easier?” Click to read my thoughts on the CBF blog.

Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash.

I'm really proud of my mom.

For a long time she has been feeling restless in her congregation. She greatly respects the pastors. She feels seen and loved by her fellow members. But a primary reason she joined this church was because my dad, who died a year and a half ago, was comfortable there. Now he's gone, and the theology and worship style don't fit her. She knows everyone there approaches her as a widow, which she is, but she's a very active one who doesn't want to be reminded constantly of her loss.

So Mom has been visiting around, and she thinks she's found her place. Having ministers for a son-in-law and daughter, though, she knew she shouldn't ghost her former congregation. She texted one of the pastors and asked to meet with him. Here's what she said during that conversation:

She gave thanks for the gifts of the ministers and the church's care for her. These pastors were so attentive to her and to my dad during some really rough years. Their support was essential, and she told them so.

She explained why she was leaving. It had nothing to do with conflict, and it was a hard decision. But she worships best through traditional hymns. She is more able to engage in Bible study with a particular theological bent. This congregation doesn't offer either.

She noted that she even though the congregation was no longer a fit for her, she celebrated that it was a great fit for others. It's wonderful that some people experience Jesus through praise hymns! Everybody worships differently.

She asked the pastor what she should do about her church responsibilities. She doesn't have major leadership responsibilities, but she does have some congregational care commitments. She didn't want to leave anyone in the lurch.

I thought this was a very healthy approach. For the record, I am the proud of the pastor too, who was my pastor when I was a youth. He told Mom that he wants her to find the church where she can heal and worship and grow, wherever that might be. Then he blessed her on her way. I think all ministers, at our best, can pastor people in this way as they leave our direct care.

These are the kinds of conversations that ministers and church members need to have. So many laypeople drift away, knowing they need something different for their current season of life but not wanting to hurt their pastors' feelings. But here's the truth: uncertainty and ghosting are much more painful for ministers than honesty and vulnerability. And departing laypeople don't get the closure they need to be able to get deeply involved in a new faith community.

I want to encourage both pastors and members to be open to - even to invite - some discomfort for everyone's benefit. Then each party can authenticity bless the other for the diverged journey to come.

Photo by Junseong Lee on Unsplash.

I have previously written about how much Tricia Hersey’s book Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto has spoken to me. (Here is the list of simple rest practices I developed for Lent after I read it.) This rest is faithful. It is what we need for our own wellbeing. And it is a tool for liberation. Last week I expanded on these thoughts with a piece at Baptist News Global. Click here to read “The rest we must have.”

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash.

With the start of Lent, many pastors are looking ahead to some hard-earned rest after Easter. Here’s a resource I created last year that can help you plan ahead to get the most out of your time away.

If I had to bet, the week after Easter Sunday (followed closely by the week after Christmas) is the most common period for pastors to take vacation. You will have accompanied your congregation from the wilderness to the foot of the cross to the empty tomb. That is quite a journey. You’ll be ready to rest.

Having a vacation to look forward to is a great start. But have you ever felt like it’s just as much work to get ready to be away as it is just to keep on plowing ahead? Have those extra tasks worn you out so much that you’re just returning to baseline, not even close to refreshment, when vacation is over? You’re not alone.

That’s why I have created a vacation prep sheet. It prompts you to record your hopes and intentions for your time away, then to sift and break down what you need to do beforehand in order to live into them. This sheet can be helpful to you the week before vacation, but it will be even more useful if you start using it further out. Feel free to download the sheet for your own use or to share it with others. Happy rejuvenating!

I am currently working with a congregation that is just beyond the redevelopment stage. The leaders are building and revamping organizational pieces that will allow the church to move from all of the responsibility falling to the pastor and to SuperVolunteers toward a more equitable and sustainable distribution of efforts. Because it can be hard to zoom out when you’re in the thick of the details, I created the graphic above to help the leaders see the importance of each aspect of the systemic work they’re doing:

• This congregation identified its values and vision as part of a discernment process a couple of years ago. Being clear about commitments and direction provides a strong foundation for all a congregation does and a touchstone for focusing efforts.

• Core documents such as by-laws make the values and vision functional: here is how we go about our church life because we have named these commitments toward this hope for our future.

• The by-laws set the leadership structure that carries out the various processes and procedures laid out in the by-laws.

• The leadership structure decides how to make faithful use of the many tangible and intangible gifts to which the congregation has access.

• The leadership’s use of gifts supports the day-to-day operations of the church.

• Smooth operations make it possible for the congregation to live into God’s invitations to ministry.

So, then, we can be much more effective if we’re clear about what our biggest commitments are and stay grounded in them at all times. By-laws are not just an irrelevant document that we maintain for legal reasons. Leadership must assess regularly and most effectively deploy its resources, which are much more than money and facilities. Ministry and operations are designed to support and speak to, not compete with, each other.

What questions or thoughts does this graphic prompt for you? How are the various levels in this image in conversation with one another in your context? Where is more communication needed? And how do you start that ball rolling?

Recently I read Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey, who is popularly known as the Nap Bishop. Hersey makes the case that all of us are caught up in grind culture, which is a hyperfocus on productivity around which our entire lives are oriented. Grind culture feeds and feeds on many modes of dehumanization: white supremacy, patriarchy, ableism, individualism, and more. It makes us think that we are what we produce. It causes us to see rest as a reward that we can only claim when we have worn ourselves down to a nub. It keeps us stepping on one another to get ahead. And it is killing us physically (as seen by our collective sleep deficit) as well as mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and relationally.

Hersey says that our response to grind culture’s demands that we do more must be to rest. Rest includes but is not limited to sleep. It can be anything that helps us slow down, replenish, and reconnect with ourselves, one another, and God. It can be lengthy, but it can also be a series of shorter breaks. I often hear from coachees that they struggle to find time for rest. That is largely because of the overlapping issues named above, and it is partly the result of grind culture’s drain on our creativity. It’s hard to come up with ways to rest that fit the moment when we are already so very tired.

With that in mind, I have developed a list of practices that offer rest. I stopped at 40 because that is the number of days in Lent, not counting Sundays. If you choose, you can take on a rest practice each day as a Lenten observance. Let me be clear, though, that I don’t intend these practices as 40 more to-dos to pile on your already-full plate. (That would defeat the purpose!) They are intended simply to give you ideas for some easily accessible breaks if you don’t have the mental space to come up with a means to get some much-needed rest. Click here to download the list. Feel free to print and/or share it.

Stay tuned for an article that elaborates on how rest doesn’t just cause us to feel better and more present but also equips us to push back on dehumanizing forces.

I am hearing - across denominations, locations, and church sizes - that it is increasingly hard to find an interim pastor to lead congregations in between settled ministers. So what is a church to do? Click here to read my suggestions on the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship blog.

Photo by Suad Kamardeen on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters U-Z. (See A-E here, F-J here, K-O here, and P-T here.)

Unity. I don’t mean politeness or agreement about things that, in the long run, don’t really matter. I’m talking about the kind of unity that is rooted in shared purpose. I’m talking about hanging in there with one another, even when there are hard conversations to be had and conflict to work through, because we are following God’s two greatest commandments (Mark 12:28-31) - not our own disparate agendas - to the best of our understanding and ability.

Values. Over the past few years I have really come to appreciate the exercise of identifying our core values, the foundational commitments that we are living into (individually and/or collectively) when we are intentional and authentic. When the pandemic hit, these values - if we were clear on them - became the touchstones. Nothing looked or operated the same with Church, but if we were operating out of our values, we were doing faithful ministry. In this time of ongoing change, values will continue to tether us to our purpose and allow the Church to have far-reaching impact.

Wonder. The life of faith is one of wonder, not just in the sense of wonder-ing or questioning, but also of awe. Isn’t it remarkable what God can do in, around, and through us? Small things, immeasurable things, and everything in between. Isn’t it unfathomable how deeply God loves us? Enough to send Jesus into the world in as vulnerable state as I could imagine - a newborn, birthed by a young mother, delivered far from home, hunted by a jealous king. What might be possible for us as Church if we fully inhabited that wonder?

(E)Xperiments. Now is not the time to spring back into all the church programs you did in The Before. It is also probably not the time to latch onto big, long-term commitments as a congregation. Instead, try something new, preferably small and time-bound, that seems like it aligns with your mission and for which you have some energy and willing participants. Then debrief and learn from it, applying what you now know either to try it again or to attempt something else that might be an even better fit with a more fruitful outcome. There is no fail here. It’s all fodder for discernment.

Yearning. Church shouldn’t be rote. It shouldn’t be mere obligation. It should be a community that speaks to our deepest longings, whether that’s to connect with our Creator, be seen and valued, to find true companions for the spiritual journey, and/or to band together with people as committed to making change in the world as we are. How are we as Church nurturing and speaking to that yearning in all that we do?

Zeroed-in focus. I think Covid broke congregations of the desire to be all things to all people, or at least I hope it did. Our church doesn’t have to offer a thing just because the congregation down the street does. (There are different churches, not to mention denominations, for a reason.) I’d love to see congregations take a good look at what they have, what they do well, and who is around them, then figure out what they want to do and how they want to show up for others. God can work with that!

I hope this alphabet series has offered some food for thought in a time of continued upheaval. I have great hope in the Church, and it’s time for the Church to reorient from being an unquestioned part of many people’s lives to living and speaking faithfully closer to the margins. That’s where Jesus operated, and it’s where we can both make big change and be changed ourselves.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters P-T. (See A-E here, F-J here, and K-O here.)

Practices. Doing is more powerful than telling. Educators know this. It’s why they get their students to put new knowledge to work, so that it will become part of them, so that they’ll have access to it when they need it most. What are the practices in your congregation - both in and beyond worship - and how are they shaping people? Where do your church folks sense permission to try different ways of putting faith into action? What rituals do you need but not yet have to support emerging disciples? Our practices as a congregation either deepen our expressed values and beliefs or undermine them.

Questions. I have - and have always had - a lot of questions. As a teenager I refused to walk the aisle and request baptism until I found a church that would welcome my wonderings. I know I’m not alone. After all, we live in a world of mass violence, a crumbling ecosystem, and structural inequities, all of which deny various expressions of the image of God in the good world that God made. Church is the very best place to ask big questions and think on them together about how to live in spite of (informed by?) all we don’t understand. God can hold our questions, and yes, our doubts.

Responsiveness. Speaking of the world’s ills, the Church can be neither silent about them nor inactive in partnering with God on solutions to them. It’s not the job of an individual congregation to put a lot of energy toward solving them all. That’s a recipe for burnout. But it is the job of each church to pick one or two areas in which their faith enacted could make a dent in those problems. Congregations cannot be self-contained entities in which folks come for Sunday morning reassurance, then leave feeling unbothered or powerless to impact their wider communities.

Storytelling. We are people of story. Our story starts with God turning on the world’s lights and giving us life. It continues across generations and centuries, and still it goes on. The Church needs to tell that story, weird and disturbing parts and all. (Those weird parts are a big part of what draws me in to hear the rest of the story!) And, the Church also needs to do a couple of other things: listen deeply to people’s beautifully diverse narratives and help them connect their stories to God’s sweeping epic.

Truthtelling. Related to questions, responsiveness, and storytelling, we as the Church need to speak the truth in love. We don’t have all the answers. There’s a lot of work to do for God’s will to be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Life can be hard and wonderful, sometimes at the same time. Let’s lead with that and invite people to join us as we sit with all of the messiness and figure out how to move forward together, with the inspiration and courage of the Holy Spirit.

Next week: letters U-Z.

Photo by Robert Stump on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters K-O. (See A-E here and F-J here.)

Kin. In church we often talk about being a family. That characterization can be rooted in an idealized version of family in which we love one another unconditionally. It can also be a bit insular, though. Have you ever joined a family, such as through marriage, and wondered if your presence was really wanted? There are insider jokes and stories and traditions that feel strange and come with little explanation, often because the family you’ve come into doesn’t realize how unique those cultural pieces are. “Kin,” though, has a different connotation for me. The term kin is sprawling. It’s not just those we interact with every day or even just on Sundays and holidays. It is all the people we are connected with - which, ultimately, is all the people on Earth. It implies some responsibility to one another. If we are kin, we bring people in. We help each other out. There are so many ways congregations can emphasize this message.

Listening. The Church that is increasingly irrelevant is focused on telling people exactly what God says and what everyone should do. The life of faith is not that simple. We come to belief through a myriad of backgrounds and experiences, and we interpret scripture based on them. What I think is more important to faith formation than telling, then, is listening. How do we teach people to hear the voice of God? How can we show the love of God to others through offering the gifts of our time and attention? What might we help people hear about the presence and work of God in their lives by witnessing their stories and reflecting on them together? What might we ourselves be changed through narratives different than our own?

Meaning-making. There is so much in the world that is hard and confusing. As Church we must be ready to help people make sense of it. We don’t necessarily have the answers, but we can provide a way of thinking about all that is happening and encourage those in our care to find their place, their agency, in it. We have some choices, and those options can be identified and refined through the lens of our faith.

Noticing. One of my favorite questions to start a group gathering is, “Where have you seen God at work lately?” I am always awed by the responses, which can be small notes of gratitude or retellings of big happenings in which God could just as well be shouting “HERE I AM” through a megaphone. Noticing is key to discernment, a faith-rooted way of making decisions. Church is a great place to cultivate that noticing. It shouldn’t just be for occurrences, though. It should also be for really looking for and seeing the image of God in God’s people - whomever, whenever, wherever. Just think how different the world would be if everyone noticed God and the work of God in all times and places!

Openness. This is a hospitality of the heart and mind. It is a willingness to consider new ideas and perspectives and try new things, and to know and be known by the people who introduce you to them. It is the ability to admit wrongdoing and make substantive changes. It is a doing better once you know better, as Maya Angelou said. Sometimes it is simply letting ourselves delight or giving ourselves permission not to know everything. (Doesn’t that sound like a relief?) How might our congregations help us nurture this hospitality, which is a big theme in scripture?

Next week: letters P-T.

Photo by Surendran MP on Unsplash.

“Back in the 1990s, when I was a teenager, youth ministry was relatively straightforward. My peers and I met for junior high and high school Sunday school and then attended worship. We came back on Sunday evenings for a less formal worship service and youth group (which often involved outings such as laser tag, mini golf or a scavenger hunt, plus the requisite pizza dinner) and on Wednesday nights for churchwide supper and seventh -12th grade Bible study. The youth schedule largely aligned with the adult schedule, and attendance was pretty consistent week-to-week and across Sunday mornings and evenings and Wednesday nights. 

This is no longer the world in which we live. Extracurricular activities associated with school spill over into all the times formerly considered off-limits for non-church obligations. The definition of regular church attendance has changed rapidly – and continues to morph –  as much social, academic and work life is lived online more so than in-person. For all of these reasons and more, the model of youth ministry must also evolve.” Click here to continue reading this article on the CBF blog.

Photo by James Baldwin on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters F-J. (See A-E here.)

Flexibility. The pandemic taught us that we can never anticipate everything, which is both scary and exhilarating. It also showed us that we have more ability to adapt than we believed possible. We need to stop trying to exert so much control and let the Holy Spirit do her thing! What might be possible if we let things be a little messy? How might God show up if we opened the floor to more voices and experiences and ideas? I’m eager to find out.

Genuineness. Psst. Here’s an open secret: one of the reasons fewer people are coming to church - or attending less often - is because they want to show up as themselves, without a facade, among other people who are also being real. Gone are the days when everybody puts on their best faces on Sunday mornings. What most are seeking is a way to connect their faith and their questions with their daily lives. Make your congregation a safe place to do that.

Hope. Optimism, which I define as an “everything’s gonna be all right” attitude, is hard to come by these days. Hope, though, is necessary for getting from one day to the next. It is available to us because of the promise of God’s presence and because hope is rooted in what we do in the face of uncertainty and pain. Faith communities can equip people for both aspects of hope, helping us look for where God is at work and equipping us respond to the world’s challenges.

Interdependence. One of the gifts and challenges of the pandemic is that everyone needed care. I think that humanized even the most self-sufficient and stoic of us (I’m talking to myself here as an Enneagram 5!) to others and even to our own selves. We are designed for interdependence. God doesn’t want us to try to make it on our own. The Church must continue to encourage vulnerability and mutual care, and not just among the people in the pews. So many who reside at or walk past the edge of our property both need our care and have so much to offer to us, if we will have ears to hear.

Joy. I am 100% convinced that the congregations that weathered Covid-19 the best put an emphasis on playing together, finding new ways to do that in a time of physical distancing. God created our world and called it good. God gave us one another so that we would know the joy of companionship. Jesus was a guy who knew how to have fun in between his more serious moments of teaching and healing. Church must be a place that people look forward to going to, not because they are entertained, but because they find something there that opens them to delight even as they acknowledge that life can be hard.

Next week: letters K-O.

Photo by Jason Dent on Unsplash.