Commencement

Today’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Worship Pastor at Bethlehem Covenant Church in Minneapolis, MN.

It’s that time of year again: time to get out the academic regalia and line up for the procession, as the faculty leads the senior class to the strains of Elgar’s  Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1. You know the tune. It’s played at nearly every high school graduation ceremony in America.bethelgradprocession

It’s that time of year again: time to congratulate confirmands in their white robes, as they recite the Apostles’ Creed and present their statements of personal faith to smiling congregations. We sing How Firm a Foundation or some other appropriate hymn, snap pictures, and eat cake, hoping the baker spelled everyone’s name correctly this year.

It’s that time of year again: time to pack up the boxes and load the moving van with furniture, setting out for new homes, new ministry settings, new lives. We grieve as we leave people we love, the people who have made us what we are, and we anxiously anticipate meeting the people who will welcome us into their communities of faith as new worship pastors, youth pastors, or lead pastors.

Many a Commencement speaker has reminded the senior class that the word commencement means beginning, not end. We remind each Confirmation class that wearing a white robe and eating cake does not constitute graduating from church, but rather the beginning of a personal commitment to engage more fully in the life of the congregation. Every pastor who has ever moved from one church to another knows, as Rev. D. Darrell Griffin reminds us, that “Change is situational. Transition is psychological.” Change is an event, often one over which we have no control, but transition is the way we respond to that event.

It’s that time of year again: time to celebrate and reflect on what has been, time to anticipate what is to come, time to embrace change and begin the transition that will, by the grace of God, bring us each closer to becoming the transformed children of God we were created to be. Cue the music. Here we go.




Learning to Love

1 Comment » Written on May 13th, 2013     
Filed under: Current Events, Local Church, NPTS, NPU, Writing and blogging

keep-calm-and-learn-to-love-60_large

Today’s post is written by Geoff Twigg, Adjunct Professor at North Park University in Chicago. Geoff is a pastor, singer/songwriter, worship leader and ministry consultant, and serves the ECC as a member of the denomination’s Commission on Worship.

Apologies to one and all that this blog entry is somewhat late appearing. I hadn’t anticipated that the coincidence of Graduation weekend and Mothers Day would be quite so busy. Silly of me, really, as one look at the schedule would have revealed that information. More than a year into this strange combination of jobs at the Seminary and the church, I still have a lot to learn.

About the middle of last week I read a blog somewhere warning us off the celebration of Mothers Day. The writer (she made several good points) said that while we are thanking mothers and celebrating the motherly contribution to family and church life, many women are left out because they are not mothers and are made to feel second-class, or criticized by implication. If a couple have been trying to have children but are as yet unsuccessful, this correspondent reported that such an occasion heaps condemnation upon the woman.

My senior pastor doesn’t always take the mothering topic on this festival, but he did on this occasion. Rather than simply commending mothers, he focused on love and how we learn to love from our parents, particularly our mothers. He spoke in appreciation of mothers who serve those they love and support them with encouragement and devotion. His sermon was good; it was a fine balance of commendation and encouragement that we could all express our faith by loving and serving in these ways. Instead of the minefield of hurt feelings the blog-writer warned about, this was a warm pastoral encouragement to learn to love.

The ceremonies here at the seminary were upbeat and encouraging celebrations. From my perspective, this is perhaps because we’ve had a year with our new Dean, and also because I have personally met and worked with an increasing percentage of the students. These people have given a great deal of time and energy to their studies, and the depth of their new-found knowledge has enriched them. Some of the Masters theses that were discussed over the last few weeks are quite revealing in their insights; I’m looking forward to reading a couple of tracts to help my thinking on issues of identity and doctrine. I have a lot to learn.

The Summer lies before us, and there are papers to write, events to organize and attend, a teaching trip to South America and a growing pile of books and articles to read. My life as a part-time academic and part-time pastor is taking shape, and I’m enjoying it. But there’s so much to learn.




Transitioning Well

Post a Comment » Written on May 3rd, 2013     
Filed under: Ethics, Health, Leadership, Local Church, Vocation and Call

transition-101-bannerToday’s post is written by Matt Nightingale, Director of Worship Ministries at Redeemer Covenant Church in Tulsa, OK.

What does it mean to transition gracefully? As pastors and worship leaders, transition – sometimes radical transition – is often an “occupational hazard.” I’ve been serving in worship ministry at Redeemer now for 3-1/2 years, but last month I announced a transition. In July, I’ll start a new call at Redwood Covenant in Santa Rosa, California.

Transition may be a fairly common thing for those of us in full-time ministry, but it is never easy. I find myself in such a strange place… truly sad to leave the wonderful people of Redeemer, yet so excited to join the wonderful people of Redwood. From one RCC to another. It’s like I’m living in two very different realities, deeply desiring to serve faithfully and finish strong in Tulsa while at the same time looking forward to the new experiences God is calling me into and making plans for my first few months in Santa Rosa.

My question today: What are YOUR stories of transition? What was it like for you, your family and your churches? Share your advice and experiences… How can we follow God’s call with grace, blessing the congregations we’re leaving while embracing the new congregations to which we’re called?




Silence

Post a Comment » Written on April 26th, 2013     
Filed under: Dangerous Worship, Formation

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

Silence

The gift of God to the introvert, and from the introvert to his or her community, is the gift of silence.

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah goes up on a mountain to hear from God, and in the midst of a powerful wind, an earthquake, and fire, God’s voice was not present. But then, a whisper, still and small, emerged from the silence that followed and asked Elijah, “what are you doing here?”

To me, that sounds wonderful.

Enjoy_the_Silence_by_WickedNox11I am an introvert, a fact that has taken me a long time to embrace. But as a new dad for the third time, I’m once again learning the value of silence. I’m discovering how much I long for it in its absence – and these days, it’s absent a lot.

Silence is not just the absence of noise, and I’m finding that silence itself can be active, dynamic … dare I say it, alive, teeming with the presence of God. In silence, we are given a chance to simply be. We are able to rest, to recharge. When we sleep, our bodies repair themselves faster; so too our minds and emotions repair when we take sabbath. Silence is, in a way, the act of growing. In silence, we engage our Creator. Silence is communion, where we eat the bread of presence and drink the life-giving cup of rest.

But silence takes work.

Our world is in the throes of a massive shift; places ever-distant are now connected through the digital world. Media bombards our eyes, ears, and an increasing number of senses with consumer-driven messages. Sleep has become harder and so we depend on caffeine and other stimulants more than ever before. For many of us, our phones and other mediums pull us in a thousand directions at once; we are always awake, always thinking, always working, always productive. Combined with urbanization and the influx of western culture on the world, we’ve created a metaculture of movement, of busy

… of noise.

silence-speaks-79426-500-550

Now more than ever, we need silence.

The great irony is that, in a global world, I believe that silence will ultimately prove to connect us more than anything else we’ve done. See, silence is counterintuitive, paradoxical; it is entirely necessary, but it is the antithesis of productivity. In silence, we cannot produce more, and yet we cannot produce without it. It takes silence to have a conversation; in silence, we cannot talk, but we cannot talk without drawing a breath, without silence. Nor can we listen without silencing our own voices. We cannot have the beauty of music without the rest of silence in between the notes.

And isn’t it interesting that the only time we all truly sound the same is in the silence?




Mundane Ministry

mundaneToday’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Worship Pastor at Bethlehem Covenant Church, Minneapolis, MN.

It’s been a crazy week around the Covenant. Weather weirdness throughout the North American continent, one heart-breaking tragedy after another, the deaths of iconic artists, and major life transitions among friends and colleagues make me want to pause – if only just long enough to catch my breath. Emotions run from horror to glee in an instant. Concern for those I love, and for the world God calls me to love, grows into a nagging sense of urgency to do something.

Meanwhile, sermons get written, songs get rehearsed, bulletins get printed, and agendas for meetings get developed. Coffee gets poured and cookies get baked, bandages get rolled and Sunday School lessons get prepped. The work of the church goes on, and we are all called – and blessed – to be part of that work.

As that work continues, however, the nagging sense of urgency to do something continues to tug at the edges of my consciousness. Matters of great impact are happening all around me, and day-to-day ministry seems so … mundane. Just as I become convinced that nothing I do can ever be enough to meet the needs of this hurting world, and everything I do has fallen into a formulaic routine of drudgery,  the Apostle Paul speaks to me through his letter to Thessaloniki:

 Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers and sisters throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers and sisters, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one. – I Thessalonians 4:9-12 (ESV)

Then I remember that ministry is both/and, not either/or. More and more, more and more.

How do the scriptures speak to you in the midst of crisis? How do you balance the ongoing ministry of your church with the desire to meet immediate, critical needs when catastrophe strikes? How are you, and your congregation, loving one another more and more?




I’d love it to be true…

2 comments Written on April 15th, 2013     
Filed under: Writing and blogging

TrueToday’s post is written by Geoff Twigg, Adjunct Professor at North Park University in Chicago. Geoff is a pastor, singer/songwriter, worship leader and ministry consultant, and serves the ECC as a member of the denomination’s Commission on Worship.

Around the middle of Holy Week, I received a delightful and poignant email from old friends at a previous church. They regularly send forwarded emails, as some folks do, that are interesting or entertaining. This one was intriguingly titled “Why did Jesus fold the napkin?” It went on to tell you that the folded facecloth mentioned in the Resurrection narrative (John 20.7) is, in fact, a significant sign of the Savior’s intentions. It mentions an old Jewish custom with which the reader may not be acquainted.

According to the message, servants would attend their masters and be particularly attentive to the place-setting once the family member rose from the table. Tossing your napkin onto the table meant you had finished your meal; it was a sign to the servants that they could clear away. However, the story ran, the tradition was that leaving a folded napkin meant “I’m coming back to the table” and the servants knew that they should leave the food out and the place undisturbed.

You can probably already sense the inspiring insight that this email implies; that Jesus was sending a message to his followers – that the evidence meant “I’m coming back”. I must admit being quite moved by the idea, and thinking fondly upon it.

Sadly, a website aptly titled “truthorfiction.com” says that there is no basis for this in biblical scholarship or Hebrew tradition, and that emails like this first appeared in 2007 or 08. In fact, they say, there is no evidence in any authoritative sources or academic research. I was disappointed. Frankly I wish it were true.

It goes in the same file as my favorite word-derivation, that of the word ‘sincere’. I was told – by people I thought at the time to be reliable and trustworthy, that this word derives from the Latin phrase ‘sine cera’ meaning “without wax”.
The story is that marble objects could be invisibly repaired by using wax to fill a crack, and that only when you got the thing home would the wax melt away and you discovered that you had bought a dud. So, if it was advertised as ‘sine cera’ you’d know that it was ‘without hidden fault’, and this is a nice thing to say about someone, therefore he’s “sincere”. Another version has people using less gold or silver, instead filling their ‘pure gold’ statues with wax to get extra weight, therefore a higher price.

There’s no evidence for those either – but aren’t they appealing?

Probably my favorite of all is the story that seems to come from the traditions of the Roman Wars. Apparently, it was customary for the highest-ranking officer to visit the troops on the night before battle, to encourage them, make sure they knew the purpose of the campaign and that they were well-equipped to fight for Rome.

The story explains that this was one of the great strengths of the Roman military, and a reason for their success. This tradition was (purportedly) known as the “Comfortus” (literally, “being with and making strong”) and it has provided us with the way Jesus described the Holy Spirit – the Comforter. The Spirit who is with us and makes us strong.

Well, whether we get the word from that derivation or not, it defines the work of the Spirit pretty well, don’t you think?.




… and you will find REST for your souls.

2 comments Written on April 5th, 2013     
Filed under: Health, Holy Week, Vocational Excellence

Today’s post is written by Matt Nightingale, Director of Worship Ministries at Redeemer Covenant Church in Tulsa, OK.

It’s the week after Easter, and if you’re anything like me, you’re exhausted. From Palm Sunday with the children’s choir to the haunting darkness of Good Friday to the color and light of Easter Sunday, with rehearsals and decorating and sound checks and videos and emails and programs… And then it’s over. And now, not even one week later, we’re about to “do Sunday” all over again.

How do you recover from Holy Week? How do you rest and refresh? Or do you just run headlong into the next sermon series thinking to yourself, “I’ll slow down and rest next month”?

In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

So I really want to know: How do you put this into practice? What does it mean for you to go to Jesus, to take up His yoke, learn from Him and find rest for your soul?




Good Friday

1 Comment » Written on March 29th, 2013     
Filed under: Arts, Better Together, Holy Week
Tags: , , ,

Dark.
Not dusk,
no moon or stars, as on a clear night;
No.

This dark was thick, oppressively thick;
All the goodness that ever existed
had been sucked out of the world.

Nothing.
Empty.
Dark.
And we were
suddenly,
completely
alone.

Dark.
It was so….
Dark.

 

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish, which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

– Latin 12th c.; German, Paul Gerhardt (1607-1676)
Translated, James W. Alexander (1804-1859)
Hymn 238, Covenant Hymnal




Posture

Post a Comment » Written on March 22nd, 2013     
Filed under: Culture, Missional, Visual Arts

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS and originally appeared as companion reading material for C3′s current sermon series.

Divorce. Lust. Politics.

Some things are just really, really hard to talk about. In part, it’s because they affect so many people in so many different ways, and lots of those people are very dear to us and we don’t want to hurt our relationship with them by saying something that could be misinterpreted. But really, when we get right down to it, some things are just not as cut-and-dry as we wish they were. We try to make them black and white and easy to digest, but the discussion goes round and around and around again, one answer feeling trite or shallow, another answer feeling like it’ll require too much from me, still another feeling like it’ll offend too many people. Our culture has a tendency to make certain things awkward to discuss because of unspoken taboos; don’t mess with our individuality, for example, it’ll go very badly for you if you do.

So given that we probably shouldn’t passive-aggressively avoid them, how ought we discuss these difficult issues?

Over the last few weeks, we’ve heard the phrase “acting our way into a new way of thinking” in the sermons at C3. In case you have no idea what this means, I discovered a TED talk by Dr. Amy Cuddy that illustrates this really well. The principle behind what Dr. Cuddy and her colleagues describe has a HUGE range of possibilities for application in all areas of life. But for our purposes, I want to draw your attention to something we did this past week in our worship gatherings because it illustrates so well the answer to this question. For those of you who couldn’t join us, during our prayer time before the sermon, we asked that each half of the sanctuary turned to face each other while standing. We then asked that you raise a hand with open palm towards each other across the room, a posture we called “blessing each other.” In social psychology, this is called an “open posture.”

We wanted to begin our conversation with a posture of grace.

Remember this? This is what I’m talking about

By physically opening ourselves in a posture of vulnerability and openness, we allow the reality of the other to become more tangible to us; we begin to act our way to a new way of thinking. Truth without tears is a dangerous thing; people have been deeply wounded by discussions about divorce, sexuality, and politics. We are to enter discussions of difficulty with hospitality, because hospitality is the act of advocating for the other. We wanted to posture ourselves first and foremost in a way that helps us to care about those around us, to show them – and ourselves – that those with different experiences or those who had made different, often difficult choices are no less human than we. We did not place ourselves in a posture of power, but in a posture of confident humility.

And nobody can cast the first stone.

Question for discussion: what other postures can (or do) you take in your workplace, school, or home to advocate for the other?




The Power of a Song

Post a Comment » Written on March 16th, 2013     
Filed under: Covenant History, Music, Songwriting

Andrew Thompson (M.Div) is the founding and lead pastor of Columbia Grove Covenant Church in Wenatchee, Washington, a church known for the creative arts. His songs are sung by churches around the US and Canada and have been featured at the Evangelical Covenant Church’s Midwinter Conference.

Most everyone can complete this phrase. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the ________.” Why? Because of a song.

Songs have a unique and powerful way of lodging ideas and emotions in our minds and hearts. We are influenced and shaped by our songs. If you are at all like me, you probably have powerful memories and emotions attached to the songs that were popular back when you were in high school. Probably also the songs that were a part of the time when you first came to Christ.

The Covenant Church, like all revival movements, was shaped by its songwriting. One of the reasons our faith forefathers and foremothers were drawn into Philipp Spener’s version of pietism was that this movement produced good songs. Their songs expressed the joy they experienced in conventical groups as they studied God’s Word together and sought to apply it to their lives in mission. Their songs shaped them. Those songs are a powerful part of why the Covenant Church is what it is today.

Like those who have gone before us, we continue to write songs that express who we are and what God is doing in our midst. We need to do it frequently, carefully and well. After all, our songs continue to shape us. We become what we sing.

I am so grateful to see the recent renewal of songwriting awareness in the Covenant church. Projects like last Midwinter’s song sampler “Louder Than Words” remind us that we are still a songwriting revival movement.

I’m excited to be a part of North Park Seminary’s new songwriting course “Songwriting for Christian Worship.” (If you are in the Chicagoland area, there’s an affordable one-day workshop option for this course too.)

Just like we invest in our pastors through training and formation, we’re investing in our songwriters. We’re going to be shaped by songs. Let’s write the best songs we can. And let’s share the best of them with each other. Why not have some of the songs that shape our movement now be our own?

What do you think? How have songs shaped you and your congregation? Are you excited by these renewed efforts to develop Covenant songwriters and songs?