Taking Ownership

I have not been blogging much recently for one big reason: Eileen and I bought a house.  For two weeks all our spare energy has gone into packing, moving, and working on the new house.  It’s a wonderful house, and we’re truly blessed to have it.  And in only a few days of living there I’m noticing a number of differences between renting and taking ownership.

This feeling probably wears off for homeowners after a while, but everything in the house comes with a greater feeling of responsibility.  When a doorknob is loose, I know I’m responsible for fixing it.  Weeds in the yard, squeaks in the floor, and spots of peeling paint can’t be as easily overlooked anymore.  There is no other landlord who will fix things that break.  No one else is going to pay for the water-heater to be replaced.  No one else is going to water the plants or cut the grass or fill the bird feeders.   We were always responsible renters, but I know there were things that I’ve overlooked in other places we’ve lived thinking, “That’s not my problem,” or “Someone else will take care of that.”  Not anymore. Eileen and I have ownership, and that means one big thing: responsibility.

And of course I think there are parallels between these feelings and life in the church.   Normally members of newer churches have a higher feeling of ownership over the ministry than in existing churches, but like home-ownership it doesn’t take long for the  joy of responsibility to turn into tiredness and burnout.  Friends who have been homeowners for years sometimes lament to me the amount of time, energy, and money they put into home maintenance.  Sometimes they even said, “Don’t buy a house.”  Responsibility and ownership sound nice, but renting is clearly easier sometimes.  I think church “renters” are a perennial presence in all congregations.  They stay in one place for a short period of time, not putting down the roots that it takes to build deep community.  And they give less time, energy, and money to the maintenance of the community because they’re not rooted there.   But no church community will survive without people taking ownership.  Someone has to claim responsibility for the maintenance, especially with the less glorious and more painstaking tasks of ownership. I love the windows in our new house, but I do not look forward to scraping and repainting every window frame.

So this raises questions for me:  How can churches cultivate attitudes of church-ownership rather than “renting”?  How can we help people find joy in the responsibility of belonging to a church community?  Well, to extend the analogy, why do people by houses?  I think rootedness plays a role.  Eileen and I decided to buy a house because it became apparent that we were becoming rooted in and committed to Pittsburgh for the next several years.  Perhaps people take ownership in a church when they see the benefits of being rooted in one community over the long-haul.  The opportunity to take control was also a factor in our decision to buy a house.  We wanted the freedom to garden as we chose and to have a dog.  But we couldn’t have those freedoms and privileges without increased responsibility.  Likewise, if people want to help shape a church culture, they have to take on the extra work that it takes to do so.   One more reason a lot of real estate is purchased for the sake of investment.  Generally speaking, it’s good stewardship to buy rather than rent.  Owners have something tangible to show for the money they pay toward their housing, while renters give that money away. And, if the conditions are right, in time the value of the property increases and there is a return on the initial investment.  For a church member to invest a church community means taking on more responsibility, but it also means a greater return on what’s given.  Relationships that last over years and years provide more return that short-lived and shallow ones.  Seeing hearts turned toward Christ and signs of his Kingdom coming in a changed neighborhood is the return investment in a new faith community.

Eileen and I don’t know all our neighbors yet, we don’t know what the coming years will bring on our block, and we don’t know what other curve-balls God may throw at us in the meantime.  But we’re committed, so we chose to buy rather than rent.  And I have hope that in the end it will be worth it.  I pray God will grant our church community the same graces of ownership.

Green Urban Homesteading

In the season of celebrating resurrection, what could be more appropriate than joining in God’s work of bringing new life to creation?  And where better to start than at home?  Eileen and I have entered into the long but exciting process of buying a house.  The closing’s set for the end of May, so we won’t be moving for a while, but we’re already thinking about all the things we could do with it. Like caring for the house in an environmentally responsible way. So we’ve been eagerly following our friend John’s blog:

John Creasy is blogging a series on Urban Homesteading.  So far it’s included discussions of passive solar heating (one reason why I’m glad our new house faces south), chicken tractors (the most productive lawn-mowing system I can imagine), and cold-frames (passive-solar heated mini-greenhouses). John’s remarkably knowledgable about these things – he’s a founder of Garfield Community Farm - so there’s much to learn in the series.  You can follow it at johncreasy.blogspot.com.

Along the same lines, a book which Eileen and I have been educated and amused by is The Urban Homestead.  We won’t put all of these ideas into practice – chickens are a long way off for amateurs like us -  but we’re dreaming.  But a rain barrel and a compost bin are likely candidates for early home-improvement projects.  And Eileen couldn’t put down a book on organic gardening she picked up the other night.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas! For all of our friends who read this, here’s our 2009 Christmas Letter, which Eileen expertly created using her photography and computer talents.  May Christ’s peace reign in your lives and our world now and forever!

Isaiah 9:2-7:  ”The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned. You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as soldiers rejoice when dividing the plunder. For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign of David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this.” 

Unexpurgating Mutual Submission

Last May, I got a kick out of Nadia Bolz-Weber and Tony Jones reflecting on the Revised Common Lectionary’s tendency to omit passages of scripture that are potentially offensive or not politically correct.  For example, passages such as James 5 are omitted: “Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries which are coming upon you.  Your riches have rotted and your garments have become moth-eaten. “  We don’t like judgment, especially judgment against comfortable wealthy lifestyles, so we avoid happily censor such passages. 

Tonight at Upper Room I’m preaching on Ephesians 5:21-6:9, expurgated from the Lectionary because of its language about wives submitting to their husbands and slaves submitting to their masters.   Certainly in history the passage has been abused to justify slavery and misogyny.   Because of that history, when we hear ”wives, submit to your husbands”, we assume it will lead to situations like the permission of  marital rape in Afghanistan.  Thus the lectionary omits the passage and people avoid talking about it.  But how are we supposed to teach people to interpret texts like this responsibly if we don’t preach on them? 

The key verse in the entire passage is verse 21: “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”  Verses 22, in the Greek, doesn’t even have the verb “submit” in it.  Literally, it’s a continuation of verse 21, as though it could say, “for example, wives to your husbands . . . . “  The passage offers a call to mutual submission, following the pattern of Christ’s self-offering on behalf of the world – not a one-sided submission.  In fact, the attention Paul gives to the husband’s love of the wife is much more than other ancient writers would have given.  Paul’s call to love and mutual-submission was counter-cultural to the one-sided submission expected by much of Greek and Roman society. 

Mutual submission is counter-cultural today, as well.  Our culture has gone from having one spouse submit to the other to having neither spouse submit.  Instead, both often seek their own independent will and fulfillment.  This is one reason why so many marriages end in divorce today: each spouse isn’t really seeking the good of the other, they’re seeking their own good.  It is counter-cultural now, just as it was in the first century to say: “submit to one another.” It’s counter-cultural because it requires denying the self, not just by one partner, but by both.  Self-dential for mutual submission is even more offensive to a culture that exalts in the individual self than the idea of a wife submitting to her husband is to an egalitarian culture.

Hence Paul’s call to love our spouses as “Christ loves the church and gave himself up for her.” Mutual submission is about dying to self and living in love, which is never a pleasant process.  It is offensive, and that’s why we need to hear it.

One Year In: Narrative in Church and Family History

 It was exactly one year ago that I posted Thinking and Praying about Church-Planting – announcing that Mike  and I were praying about planting a church in Squirrel Hill. One year since that day, we’ll be having worship at my house at 7:30 tonight.  Mike and I will be preaching together, our friend SeungJin will be leading music, and anywhere between a dozen and two dozen people will gather in my living room to sing, pray, and take communion together.  The vision of The Upper Room is moving forward, becoming more of a reality every day. 

 And this has me thinking about the idea of narrative.  Our lives are stories, placed within the larger story of God’s action in redeeming the world through Jesus.  The story of The Upper Room is not one of it popping into existence, but a story of numerous prayer-walks through Pittsburgh’s streets on cold mornings last winter, conversations with churches and presbyteries, grant applications, times of fear and confusion, and countless prayers from people all around this country (thank you supporters!!).  And that led to the day last  summer when Eileen and left our community in Garfield to move to Squirrel Hill.  By August a group of seven people had committed to being the team that planted this church together, and we began meeting on Thursday nights at our home.  We fasted then celebrated together on the day when we were officially approved as a church-plant of Pittsburgh Presbytery.  Later in September we took communion together for the first time as the team who would plant this church.  October, November, and December were filled with a series of prayer services at Greenfield Presbyterian, Pittsburgh Mennonite, and Waverly Presbyterian.  Our seed-group took a retreat together in November and there decided that we wanted to being some Sunday evening house-church worship services beginning in January.  And that’s led to tonight.

That’s the story of The Upper Room.  Somehow my personal story, connected to the stories of God at work in my life and my family history, fits into the story of what God’s doing through The Upper Room.  Which leads to this observation:  Today would also have been my grandmother Catherine’s 102nd birthday.  She passed away at the age of 95 when I was a sophomore in college.  Her life had been so much a part of my personal story, that I can honestly say I would not be where I am in ministry today without her prayers and influence.   My story, and The Upper Room’s story, is in turn part of her story of being the daughter of a church-planter in Colorado in the 1910′s.  This past week, my other grandmother, Helen, passed away also.  Our time with my mom’s family this week opened my eyes to more of the ways in which her family history has shaped and molded me. 

Narratives, the stories in which we all exist, are like moving water.  Story is a force that we’re caught up in, carried along and formed by the currents.  Sometimes it’s painful, like water carving out a canyon, and sometimes we glide along in smooth waters.  Though this week has been one of the more painful time of carving, I’m finding hope and joy in the fact that all of these rivers – our family stories and church stories – flow together in the river of life: “Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb” (Rev. 22:1).