Monday, July 27, 2009
Vote For Meg
My friend Meg Luger-Nikolai is running for school board in St. Paul. Unfortunately, I live in Pennsylvania, so I can't vote for her. But if you have the great privilege of living and voting in St. Paul, you should cast a ballot for Meg. Trust me, she is very good peeps, but if you don't want to take my word for it, learn more about her here and here.
Friday, July 24, 2009
The Unstarbucks
Starbucks began as a little independent coffee shop across the street from Pike Place Market in Seattle. I don't really know its history that well, but somewhere along the line of its growth, it hit a tipping point and became a nationwide phenomena, as ubiquitous as McDonalds.
I'm not really a coffee drinker, so I have no anecdotal taste memory to back up this suspicion, but I imagine somewhere during their rapid expansion, they also became the McDonald's of fine coffee. What I mean by that is: McDonald's is reliable mediocrity. It's not the best food you've ever had, but it's certainly not the worst either, and if you're on a long cross-country trip, you can be reasonably certain that any McDonald's you stop at will provide a clean bathroom and food that won't make you sick, food that tastes exactly like the food at the McDonald's in your hometown.
I have a feeling something similar happened to Starbucks, at least in perception if not reality. From my coffee drinking friends, I've discerned that Starbucks is many steps above diner or church basement coffee, but compared to what is available at the local independent coffee shop, it has become reliable mediocrity. Like I say, I wouldn't know if this is really true in terms of taste, but it certainly seems to be true in terms of perception - walk into any Starbucks across the country and it looks essentially the same, and will probably taste essentially the same - it's just one more symbol of corporate America trying to get us to brand ourselves.
But now the trend is against being branded. Now consumers (or at least, the hipsters who are the head lemmings we all follow over the next tipping point) are trending more toward the local, the independent, the microbrew. So, according to a report on Nightline last night, the wolf is putting on sheep's clothing - Starbucks opened a new coffee shop in Seattle that's not really a Starbucks - it's "inspired by Starbucks," and it's owned by Starbucks, but it's meant to imitate the little independently owned coffee shop on the corner.
There's a lot that could be said about this - observations on the way that what goes around comes around and how eventually everything and everyone revisits their beginnings (a sign of growth, according to T.S. Eliot, if when we get there, we see it again as if for the first time).
I guess I'm kind of more interested in the way that a similar cycle is happening in churches. Christian communities began as house churches, and after living through several decades of explosive growth in the "McChurch"/megachurch model, many emergent churches are going back to the house church format - small communities of accountability, support, and service that don't necessarily meet in buildings dedicated exclusively for the purposes of the congregation. They are going back to the local, back to the independent, back to the microchurch. And in many ways, they are the "unchurch," relative to most people's working definition of what the church is. Yet in many ways they are more truly the church than most "traditional" congregations, relative to the Bible's working definition of what the church is.
I don't really know where I'm going with all of this yet, just wanted to get it out there while I was thinking of it. . .crazy where a simple little Nightline report can lead one. . .
I'm not really a coffee drinker, so I have no anecdotal taste memory to back up this suspicion, but I imagine somewhere during their rapid expansion, they also became the McDonald's of fine coffee. What I mean by that is: McDonald's is reliable mediocrity. It's not the best food you've ever had, but it's certainly not the worst either, and if you're on a long cross-country trip, you can be reasonably certain that any McDonald's you stop at will provide a clean bathroom and food that won't make you sick, food that tastes exactly like the food at the McDonald's in your hometown.
I have a feeling something similar happened to Starbucks, at least in perception if not reality. From my coffee drinking friends, I've discerned that Starbucks is many steps above diner or church basement coffee, but compared to what is available at the local independent coffee shop, it has become reliable mediocrity. Like I say, I wouldn't know if this is really true in terms of taste, but it certainly seems to be true in terms of perception - walk into any Starbucks across the country and it looks essentially the same, and will probably taste essentially the same - it's just one more symbol of corporate America trying to get us to brand ourselves.
But now the trend is against being branded. Now consumers (or at least, the hipsters who are the head lemmings we all follow over the next tipping point) are trending more toward the local, the independent, the microbrew. So, according to a report on Nightline last night, the wolf is putting on sheep's clothing - Starbucks opened a new coffee shop in Seattle that's not really a Starbucks - it's "inspired by Starbucks," and it's owned by Starbucks, but it's meant to imitate the little independently owned coffee shop on the corner.
There's a lot that could be said about this - observations on the way that what goes around comes around and how eventually everything and everyone revisits their beginnings (a sign of growth, according to T.S. Eliot, if when we get there, we see it again as if for the first time).
I guess I'm kind of more interested in the way that a similar cycle is happening in churches. Christian communities began as house churches, and after living through several decades of explosive growth in the "McChurch"/megachurch model, many emergent churches are going back to the house church format - small communities of accountability, support, and service that don't necessarily meet in buildings dedicated exclusively for the purposes of the congregation. They are going back to the local, back to the independent, back to the microchurch. And in many ways, they are the "unchurch," relative to most people's working definition of what the church is. Yet in many ways they are more truly the church than most "traditional" congregations, relative to the Bible's working definition of what the church is.
I don't really know where I'm going with all of this yet, just wanted to get it out there while I was thinking of it. . .crazy where a simple little Nightline report can lead one. . .
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Breaking Up With NWA
I'm usually pretty loyal to the companies or products I prefer. All this time I've been excessively loyal to Northwest Airlines (in fact, while I've traveled other airlines for work, I don't believe I've ever bought a personal travel ticket on another carrier), primarily because they are a MN company, and secondarily because, being a MN company, Minneapolis was a hub, so I could get reasonable direct flights from the various places I have lived, even including a smaller airport like Harrisburg. In the past couple of years, those direct flights have been offered at increasingly ridiculous times of day, but I was still loyal, and in situations where I had to make connections, the other main hub was Detroit, which was at least on the way between my departure and destination.
But ever since this supposed "merger" with Delta (which now, to me, seems more like a hostile takeover), things have gone from bad to worse, and they have been slowly phasing out both Minneapolis and Detroit as a hub for the airline - it seems the direct flight to Mpls has disappeared, and the connecting flights through Detroit are getting rarer and increasingly offered only at ridiculous times. Now they always want to route me through Atlanta instead, which is stupid - why would I want to spend way more time on a plane than I need to, and travel deep into the south when my destination is northwest?
So, I'm sorry Northwest, but you've lost me as a customer. United may break guitars, but they fly through Chicago, which is on the way between MN and PA, and they offer flights almost every hour, so I don't have to travel at the crack of dawn or the deep of night (and the flights are about $70-$100 cheaper to boot). And in a worst case scenario, should I find myself grounded at O'Hare, I know people in Chicago, and/or I could rent a car and handle the drive by myself in either direction.
We've had a good run. . .I feel really weird ending it this way, but I feel like you've left me no other choice. You've turned into something I don't even recognize anymore. . .
Hope Atlanta makes you happy,
C.
But ever since this supposed "merger" with Delta (which now, to me, seems more like a hostile takeover), things have gone from bad to worse, and they have been slowly phasing out both Minneapolis and Detroit as a hub for the airline - it seems the direct flight to Mpls has disappeared, and the connecting flights through Detroit are getting rarer and increasingly offered only at ridiculous times. Now they always want to route me through Atlanta instead, which is stupid - why would I want to spend way more time on a plane than I need to, and travel deep into the south when my destination is northwest?
So, I'm sorry Northwest, but you've lost me as a customer. United may break guitars, but they fly through Chicago, which is on the way between MN and PA, and they offer flights almost every hour, so I don't have to travel at the crack of dawn or the deep of night (and the flights are about $70-$100 cheaper to boot). And in a worst case scenario, should I find myself grounded at O'Hare, I know people in Chicago, and/or I could rent a car and handle the drive by myself in either direction.
We've had a good run. . .I feel really weird ending it this way, but I feel like you've left me no other choice. You've turned into something I don't even recognize anymore. . .
Hope Atlanta makes you happy,
C.
Friday, July 17, 2009
United Breaks Guitars
This is awesome. Having had my own share of frustrations and runarounds regarding luggage damaged by Northwest (thankfully no Taylor guitars in my case), I love how he has fun while sticking it to the man.
Hat tip to Mary for the link.
Hat tip to Mary for the link.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
I went to see the newest Potter movie tonight, and was not disappointed. It was very well done, and a fair adaptation of the book - and I have to admit, I was a bit skeptical going in, because book 6 is so full, I didn't know how they'd do it justice in a 2.5 hour movie.
The one thing I would question is that the book spends a lot of time helping Harry and the reader understand the psychology of Voldemort, which the movie spends virtually no time on at all. I can understand, I suppose, why they'd want to cut a lot of that out, because it's more heady and dialogue-y and doesn't lend itself so well to action and keeping the story clipping along. But it's kind of important to undergirding the 7th book, or at least, I think it is.
They also added an attack that's not in the book, which I find kind of curious - given all they had to cut out, why would they "waste" minutes on something that wasn't originally part of the story? Unless it was an attempt to convey the terror and danger of the times, that no one and no place is really safe (admittedly, you don't get a strong sense of that in the rest of the film).
Not related to the quality of the movie, but rather the quality of the movie-viewing experience: somebody brought their small child with them (like, 3 or 4 years old), who kept talking, loudly, through the first half of the film. I think they finally just left so they would quit annoying the other patrons, but I seriously wonder why on earth they would have brought a child that young to this movie in the first place. Yes, the Harry Potter series was written for children, but the intended audience was 'tweens and older - not toddlers.
People - it's a series about the epic battle between good and evil, and even if you don't know any better because you haven't read the books, the tone turned distinctly darker in the fourth movie (and book), when Voldmort returned in the flesh. The last two movies have seen the death of a Hogwarts student, and of Harry's godfather - you don't think it's going to get even darker before good wins the day? And you think it's appropriate to scare your toddler with this right before bedtime?
Sigh. . .Rich Melheim is so right. . .the world needs more parents raising children, not children raising children (a comment that has everything to do with maturity and nothing to do with age).
Ok, getting off the soapbox now,
C.
The one thing I would question is that the book spends a lot of time helping Harry and the reader understand the psychology of Voldemort, which the movie spends virtually no time on at all. I can understand, I suppose, why they'd want to cut a lot of that out, because it's more heady and dialogue-y and doesn't lend itself so well to action and keeping the story clipping along. But it's kind of important to undergirding the 7th book, or at least, I think it is.
They also added an attack that's not in the book, which I find kind of curious - given all they had to cut out, why would they "waste" minutes on something that wasn't originally part of the story? Unless it was an attempt to convey the terror and danger of the times, that no one and no place is really safe (admittedly, you don't get a strong sense of that in the rest of the film).
Not related to the quality of the movie, but rather the quality of the movie-viewing experience: somebody brought their small child with them (like, 3 or 4 years old), who kept talking, loudly, through the first half of the film. I think they finally just left so they would quit annoying the other patrons, but I seriously wonder why on earth they would have brought a child that young to this movie in the first place. Yes, the Harry Potter series was written for children, but the intended audience was 'tweens and older - not toddlers.
People - it's a series about the epic battle between good and evil, and even if you don't know any better because you haven't read the books, the tone turned distinctly darker in the fourth movie (and book), when Voldmort returned in the flesh. The last two movies have seen the death of a Hogwarts student, and of Harry's godfather - you don't think it's going to get even darker before good wins the day? And you think it's appropriate to scare your toddler with this right before bedtime?
Sigh. . .Rich Melheim is so right. . .the world needs more parents raising children, not children raising children (a comment that has everything to do with maturity and nothing to do with age).
Ok, getting off the soapbox now,
C.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Creating a "Culture of We"
I finally watched Michael Moore's SiCKO last week, and have been pondering it ever since. One line stuck out to me in particular, and that was someone in either Canada, Britain, or France (I forget now which place he was in at that point) explaining their nation's openness to nationalized health care by saying, socially, they have a "culture of we" whereas their perception of America is as a "culture of me."
That's very telling, and I would say, accurate, but not necessarily in the way the speaker thinks. As Moore illustrates in the film, for a culture of supposedly rabid individualists, we'll do just about anything for a neighbor in need: buy calendars; make straight-up donations; hold dinners, silent auctions, raffles, community carnivals, etc.
My question is - and has always been - why are we wiling to bend over backwards to raise thousands of dollars which, under our current health care system, makes really only a dent in the medical bills of the seriously ill and/or seriously poor, when we could be taxed an equal amount (or maybe even less than what we do in fundraisers) and everybody would just get the care they need when they need it?
This is where the "culture of me" comes in, I think. It's not that Americans aren't or can't be generous with our money, but we want control of where it goes.
We have a similar problem in the church. If we do a special appeal for a particular project, the money comes in, often much faster than we could ever anticipate (point in fact: we need a new fridge for the kitchen, which we announced the last Sunday in June - we met our fundraising goal this past Sunday, a mere three weeks later). If we would have just purchased the fridge out of general fund monies, it would have set us behind in our bills this summer, because getting folks to give to the general fund is like pulling teeth. I think we run a pretty tight ship, financially speaking, but nevertheless it's like the congregational mindset is not to trust the "institution" to spend their money wisely. But if they can give it themselves directly to a project, cause, or initiative they support, then they fund it very generously.
Extrapolate that now to the country - fiscal conservatives and libertarians are already naturally predisposed to distrust the efficiency and wise management of "big government," and you add to that the "culture of me" that wants to do good that I can personally see the results of and be generous to a beneficiary of my choosing - it's no wonder national health care has such a hard time gaining traction here, even though it's clearly in our best interest.
So here's the million dollar question: how do you take that generous impulse and bend it to create a "culture of we"? Will it only happen after enough people have been severely hurt by the brokenness of our current system? Or is there a way to draw it out of us, proactively, positively, before we get to that point?
That's very telling, and I would say, accurate, but not necessarily in the way the speaker thinks. As Moore illustrates in the film, for a culture of supposedly rabid individualists, we'll do just about anything for a neighbor in need: buy calendars; make straight-up donations; hold dinners, silent auctions, raffles, community carnivals, etc.
My question is - and has always been - why are we wiling to bend over backwards to raise thousands of dollars which, under our current health care system, makes really only a dent in the medical bills of the seriously ill and/or seriously poor, when we could be taxed an equal amount (or maybe even less than what we do in fundraisers) and everybody would just get the care they need when they need it?
This is where the "culture of me" comes in, I think. It's not that Americans aren't or can't be generous with our money, but we want control of where it goes.
We have a similar problem in the church. If we do a special appeal for a particular project, the money comes in, often much faster than we could ever anticipate (point in fact: we need a new fridge for the kitchen, which we announced the last Sunday in June - we met our fundraising goal this past Sunday, a mere three weeks later). If we would have just purchased the fridge out of general fund monies, it would have set us behind in our bills this summer, because getting folks to give to the general fund is like pulling teeth. I think we run a pretty tight ship, financially speaking, but nevertheless it's like the congregational mindset is not to trust the "institution" to spend their money wisely. But if they can give it themselves directly to a project, cause, or initiative they support, then they fund it very generously.
Extrapolate that now to the country - fiscal conservatives and libertarians are already naturally predisposed to distrust the efficiency and wise management of "big government," and you add to that the "culture of me" that wants to do good that I can personally see the results of and be generous to a beneficiary of my choosing - it's no wonder national health care has such a hard time gaining traction here, even though it's clearly in our best interest.
So here's the million dollar question: how do you take that generous impulse and bend it to create a "culture of we"? Will it only happen after enough people have been severely hurt by the brokenness of our current system? Or is there a way to draw it out of us, proactively, positively, before we get to that point?
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
All Kfunned Out
(View from Ferris Wheel)
Took the Youth Group to Knoebels today (the "k" is not silent, as in knowledge; nor Norskified, as in Kjetil; it is hard and pronounced, as in k-nobles). It's a nice amusement park - clean, safe, reasonably priced, and best of all, no entrance fee. You pay-per-ride or buy a day-long unlimited bracelet/handstamp, but if you're not big on rides, you don't waste money just to get in and hang with your friends. Additionally nice - they have plenty of food for sale there but you can also pack a picnic and bring it with you into the park.
(Another View from Ferris Wheel)
I'm not much for rides, so I brought a book with and figured I'd be the designated stuff-watcher, but even I found plenty of rides that were more my speed: the Giant Swing (here: Italian Trapeze), the Scrambler (here: Merry Mixer), the Carousel, the Ferris Wheel, the Antique Cars, the Bumper Cars, the Train, and the Flume.
Digression: the flume I grew up with at Valleyfair has one large drop. This one has two, which girl genius figured out about 3/4 of the way up the climb for the first, realizing that plunge off to my right - the only one you can see when you wait in line for the ride - was not what we were currently headed for. "There are TWO flumes on this thing?" I cried out to no one in particular. The kids turned around and smiled at me, "Yeah. You didn't know that?" "No." WHOOSH!
A long, full day of fun was had by all. And now PC is ready to:
'knight,
C.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The Audience of One
So yesterday I went to see Year One, and I was the only one in the theater! Granted, this was late Monday afternoon in Selinsgrove, PA, for a movie that's been in wide release for several weeks. But still, I don't think that's ever happened to me before - it was kind of weird, and made me wonder if, had I not been there and purchased a ticket, they would have run the movie to an empty theater anyway, or saved themselves the electricity.
But I digress. . .I knew going in it was supposed to be a crude humor comedy, so I wasn't looking for anything deep, just 90 minutes of mindless chuckles. Unfortunately, I didn't find it to be a particularly amusing or shining example of its genre. It was mostly Jack Black and Michael Cera doing their respective 21st century schticks in a variety of 1st century-esque garb; the majority of the jokes were blown in the previews I had already seen, in fact, the funniest part (to me) was Cain's great escape, which took maybe all of 60 seconds. And there were inexplicable gaping holes in the plot (like a scene where Michael Cera's character is being strangled to death by a large snake, that cuts to Jack Black and Michael Cera back in the village, no harm, no foul, no explanation of how they got away from the snake).
To Harold Ramis' credit, there was some witty dialogue here and there, playing off of sayings or events in the Bible (the whole movie is playing fast and loose with various parts of - and midrashic commentary upon - the first 22 chapters of Genesis). I got that and appreciated it. . .but then later I got to thinking (another unfortunate thing - can't shut my brain down for too long, even when I'm trying): given the general state of Biblical illiteracy in this country, how many people in an average audience would have picked up on those references? In fact, I'm kind of wondering how many people in an average audience would even realize he's using the Bible for source material?
Forbidden fruit, Adam, Cain and Abel, Abraham and Isaac, Sodom and Gomorrah - these are all stories that one would think even the most unchurched of people would be vaguely familiar with. But it's a post-modern, post-Christendom world out there; as a pastor, I can't make any assumptions about the Biblical literacy of the folks sitting in the pews every Sunday, let alone the folks who've never (or rarely) darkened the door of a church, synagogue, or mosque.
Which begs the question: if you don't know the source material the comedian is riffing on - is the joke still funny or relevant? Similarly for the preacher - does the sermon still bear or make meaning, and bring the Word to those who don't know the word?
But I digress. . .I knew going in it was supposed to be a crude humor comedy, so I wasn't looking for anything deep, just 90 minutes of mindless chuckles. Unfortunately, I didn't find it to be a particularly amusing or shining example of its genre. It was mostly Jack Black and Michael Cera doing their respective 21st century schticks in a variety of 1st century-esque garb; the majority of the jokes were blown in the previews I had already seen, in fact, the funniest part (to me) was Cain's great escape, which took maybe all of 60 seconds. And there were inexplicable gaping holes in the plot (like a scene where Michael Cera's character is being strangled to death by a large snake, that cuts to Jack Black and Michael Cera back in the village, no harm, no foul, no explanation of how they got away from the snake).
To Harold Ramis' credit, there was some witty dialogue here and there, playing off of sayings or events in the Bible (the whole movie is playing fast and loose with various parts of - and midrashic commentary upon - the first 22 chapters of Genesis). I got that and appreciated it. . .but then later I got to thinking (another unfortunate thing - can't shut my brain down for too long, even when I'm trying): given the general state of Biblical illiteracy in this country, how many people in an average audience would have picked up on those references? In fact, I'm kind of wondering how many people in an average audience would even realize he's using the Bible for source material?
Forbidden fruit, Adam, Cain and Abel, Abraham and Isaac, Sodom and Gomorrah - these are all stories that one would think even the most unchurched of people would be vaguely familiar with. But it's a post-modern, post-Christendom world out there; as a pastor, I can't make any assumptions about the Biblical literacy of the folks sitting in the pews every Sunday, let alone the folks who've never (or rarely) darkened the door of a church, synagogue, or mosque.
Which begs the question: if you don't know the source material the comedian is riffing on - is the joke still funny or relevant? Similarly for the preacher - does the sermon still bear or make meaning, and bring the Word to those who don't know the word?
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Me and My Imaginary Friends
I've written before about the wild imagination of my young friend Olivia. I am happy to report she must have everything patched up with the princesses. I surmised this from yesterday's 4th of July picnic, where she happened to be the only child present. I think she was getting a little bit bored, and knowing that Auntie Catrina is always up for a game of tag, she asked if I wanted to play.
At first she wanted to play freeze tag, as we did the week before with Henry, Liam, and Jack, at Uncle Patrick's birthday party. Without the other kids there, I didn't think that was going to work - we had only a tagger and a taggee, no one to unfreeze whoever was tagged. So we were just playing regular tag, trading off being it, when about five minutes in, I seriously saw the lightbulb go off in her head, and she calls out "Catrina! I know how we can play freeze tag! My imaginary friends can unfreeze me!"
She was completely sincere, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from chuckling at the adorable earnestness of her thought. Instead I said, "Uh. . .ok. Wait, what happens if you freeze me? Can my imaginary friends unfreeze me?"
"Oh yeah, if you have some, sure!"
So, for the sake of freeze tag, I resurrected some old imaginary friends. And I can only assume, if Olivia's friends are willing to play along and help her at freeze tag, they've gotten their act together since last year. :)
At first she wanted to play freeze tag, as we did the week before with Henry, Liam, and Jack, at Uncle Patrick's birthday party. Without the other kids there, I didn't think that was going to work - we had only a tagger and a taggee, no one to unfreeze whoever was tagged. So we were just playing regular tag, trading off being it, when about five minutes in, I seriously saw the lightbulb go off in her head, and she calls out "Catrina! I know how we can play freeze tag! My imaginary friends can unfreeze me!"
She was completely sincere, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from chuckling at the adorable earnestness of her thought. Instead I said, "Uh. . .ok. Wait, what happens if you freeze me? Can my imaginary friends unfreeze me?"
"Oh yeah, if you have some, sure!"
So, for the sake of freeze tag, I resurrected some old imaginary friends. And I can only assume, if Olivia's friends are willing to play along and help her at freeze tag, they've gotten their act together since last year. :)
Friday, July 3, 2009
A Tip of the Hat
. . .to the Minnesota Supreme Court for finally seating the junior Senator, and to Norm Coleman for finally finding the grace to quit challenging the decisions of the judiciary.
. . .to the August Schell Brewing Company for snagging the best free stage line-up at the Fair this year. When the sun goes down, be sure to find yourself in Heritage Square to hear the likes of Billy McLaughlin, Storyhill, and The Front Porch Swingin' Liquor Pigs.
. . .to the August Schell Brewing Company for snagging the best free stage line-up at the Fair this year. When the sun goes down, be sure to find yourself in Heritage Square to hear the likes of Billy McLaughlin, Storyhill, and The Front Porch Swingin' Liquor Pigs.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Synod Assembly Part Deux
At long last I have time to recap Day Two of Synod Assembly, when we got down to the brass tacks of legislative action.
We had two memorials before us on the sexuality issue. For those unaccustomed to ELCA polity and related lingo - a memorial is a message that we as a synod send to the churchwide assembly, usually advising them to do or not do something in particular.
The churchwide assembly is not bound by these memorials- they can choose to pay attention to them or to ignore them. Often, a memorial can be the thing that gets a ball rolling for the national church - in fact, I believe we are currently at the place we are at in these conversations on sexuality because several years ago, a synod (or perhaps several synods) memorialized the churchwide assembly to generate a social statement on sexuality, and the assembly agreed that would be a good thing to do. Similarly, the Book of Faith initiative is also the result of a synod memorializing the churchwide assembly to "increase Biblical literacy and fluency for the sake of the world," and the churchwide assembly decided that this, too, would be a good thing to do.
The memorials before us were not so much to get a new initiative going, they were more of a weighing in with our opinion on controversial matters currently before the church. One memorial was advising the churchwide assembly to adapt their rules for adoption, so that passage of both the social statement and the recommendations on rostering policies require a "supermajority" (2/3 of the assembly), as opposed to a regular majority (51% - the current standard). The other memorial was advising the churchwide assembly to reject: the sexuality statement, the policy recommendations, and "the concept that individual members, congregations, or synods have the authority to interpret or set aside Scripture on these matters apart from the consensus of the Church." Additionally, this memorial encouraged the churchwide assembly to accept the resolutions from Dissenting Opinion One (including but not limited to putting the kabosh on all discussions of sexuality for the next decade).
I missed the discussion and vote on the supermajority memorial, and the beginning of the debate on the other memorial, as did a number of other folks, because we were getting ready for worship. We were installing authorized lay leaders in the service, and the new lay leaders and their mentors (of which I was one) were instructed to be vested by 9:30 am; the choir (of which I was also one) was also instructed to be downstairs to warm up by 9:30. This meant that probably 20-30 voting members were not on the floor of the assembly when these discussions began, and had no inkling of what we were missing. When I left the floor to vest they were in the middle of somebody's report, I did not anticipate them getting to legislative matters at all before worship, in part because they had been so careful the day before about not dismissing the elections committee to count ballots during the "quasi-committee of the whole," so that elections committee members could participate in the discussion.
I don't believe it was a sneaky political ploy, just an unfortunate miscommunication (the Bishop was honestly shocked in the afternoon plenary when he saw how many hands went up asking for the paper ballot we weren't given in the morning session) - but it was still unacceptable, and believe me, the synod office will be hearing from me about it so that they don't fall into the same situation in the future.
All of which is to say, again - I missed all the initial discussion (which from reports, started to get a little nasty on memorial #2), and the vote on the supermajority memorial (which was approved).
When we picked the matter back up in the afternoon, a colleague submitted a substitutionary memorial, that was not really a friendly substitution to the original memorial at all - the whereases were much more focused on lifting up the gifts of ALL members of the church and finding a way for ALL to serve, and the resolveds were to accept the social statement but reject any rostering policy changes for now, while continuing the discussion to find ways for our homosexual brothers and sisters to serve as rostered leaders of the church, and equipping and encouraging them as strong lay leaders in the meantime.
More debate and discussion ensued. The tenor of the discussion was less civil on this day, especially from those who favored the original memorial (one colleague kept trying to turn the discussion into more of a point-counterpoint debate and was very contemptuous of any argument he disagreed with; another resorted to the old "you're abandoning the Bible" ad hominum, then jumped from the matter at hand into a non sequitur about bestiality - I think in a lot of people's minds, they basically discredited themselves by their rhetoric and their tactics).
Ultimately, we voted to substitute the new memorial for the original, and then voted the new memorial down (85 in favor; 136 opposed), I'm sure because it had enough in it for everyone to hate: both those who wanted to reject the social statement and those who wanted to accept the policy recommendations weren't going to vote for it.
So in the end, we haven't sent any word of advice on to the churchwide assembly on this matter (other than recommending passage by a supermajority), which I think is actually a good thing. Because we believe (or at least, we claim to believe) that the Holy Spirit is at work in the workings of the assembly, thus we ought to trust the Spirit to do its thing, just as we ought to trust those elected to the churchwide assembly to be prayerful people with discerning hearts and minds in this and all other matters before the church. Maybe it's time our words and actions (my own included) reflected more faith in that belief.
Peace,
C.
We had two memorials before us on the sexuality issue. For those unaccustomed to ELCA polity and related lingo - a memorial is a message that we as a synod send to the churchwide assembly, usually advising them to do or not do something in particular.
The churchwide assembly is not bound by these memorials- they can choose to pay attention to them or to ignore them. Often, a memorial can be the thing that gets a ball rolling for the national church - in fact, I believe we are currently at the place we are at in these conversations on sexuality because several years ago, a synod (or perhaps several synods) memorialized the churchwide assembly to generate a social statement on sexuality, and the assembly agreed that would be a good thing to do. Similarly, the Book of Faith initiative is also the result of a synod memorializing the churchwide assembly to "increase Biblical literacy and fluency for the sake of the world," and the churchwide assembly decided that this, too, would be a good thing to do.
The memorials before us were not so much to get a new initiative going, they were more of a weighing in with our opinion on controversial matters currently before the church. One memorial was advising the churchwide assembly to adapt their rules for adoption, so that passage of both the social statement and the recommendations on rostering policies require a "supermajority" (2/3 of the assembly), as opposed to a regular majority (51% - the current standard). The other memorial was advising the churchwide assembly to reject: the sexuality statement, the policy recommendations, and "the concept that individual members, congregations, or synods have the authority to interpret or set aside Scripture on these matters apart from the consensus of the Church." Additionally, this memorial encouraged the churchwide assembly to accept the resolutions from Dissenting Opinion One (including but not limited to putting the kabosh on all discussions of sexuality for the next decade).
I missed the discussion and vote on the supermajority memorial, and the beginning of the debate on the other memorial, as did a number of other folks, because we were getting ready for worship. We were installing authorized lay leaders in the service, and the new lay leaders and their mentors (of which I was one) were instructed to be vested by 9:30 am; the choir (of which I was also one) was also instructed to be downstairs to warm up by 9:30. This meant that probably 20-30 voting members were not on the floor of the assembly when these discussions began, and had no inkling of what we were missing. When I left the floor to vest they were in the middle of somebody's report, I did not anticipate them getting to legislative matters at all before worship, in part because they had been so careful the day before about not dismissing the elections committee to count ballots during the "quasi-committee of the whole," so that elections committee members could participate in the discussion.
I don't believe it was a sneaky political ploy, just an unfortunate miscommunication (the Bishop was honestly shocked in the afternoon plenary when he saw how many hands went up asking for the paper ballot we weren't given in the morning session) - but it was still unacceptable, and believe me, the synod office will be hearing from me about it so that they don't fall into the same situation in the future.
All of which is to say, again - I missed all the initial discussion (which from reports, started to get a little nasty on memorial #2), and the vote on the supermajority memorial (which was approved).
When we picked the matter back up in the afternoon, a colleague submitted a substitutionary memorial, that was not really a friendly substitution to the original memorial at all - the whereases were much more focused on lifting up the gifts of ALL members of the church and finding a way for ALL to serve, and the resolveds were to accept the social statement but reject any rostering policy changes for now, while continuing the discussion to find ways for our homosexual brothers and sisters to serve as rostered leaders of the church, and equipping and encouraging them as strong lay leaders in the meantime.
More debate and discussion ensued. The tenor of the discussion was less civil on this day, especially from those who favored the original memorial (one colleague kept trying to turn the discussion into more of a point-counterpoint debate and was very contemptuous of any argument he disagreed with; another resorted to the old "you're abandoning the Bible" ad hominum, then jumped from the matter at hand into a non sequitur about bestiality - I think in a lot of people's minds, they basically discredited themselves by their rhetoric and their tactics).
Ultimately, we voted to substitute the new memorial for the original, and then voted the new memorial down (85 in favor; 136 opposed), I'm sure because it had enough in it for everyone to hate: both those who wanted to reject the social statement and those who wanted to accept the policy recommendations weren't going to vote for it.
So in the end, we haven't sent any word of advice on to the churchwide assembly on this matter (other than recommending passage by a supermajority), which I think is actually a good thing. Because we believe (or at least, we claim to believe) that the Holy Spirit is at work in the workings of the assembly, thus we ought to trust the Spirit to do its thing, just as we ought to trust those elected to the churchwide assembly to be prayerful people with discerning hearts and minds in this and all other matters before the church. Maybe it's time our words and actions (my own included) reflected more faith in that belief.
Peace,
C.
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