The Perils of Initiative
Our church’s administrative arm has recently done something relatively unusual, for us—run a national ad, in USA Today. (There was at least one other such, as I recall, some months ago.) We are used to seeing the Mormons, the Methodists, and the Scientologists with their TV promotions. But Episcopalians—isn’t that a bit déclassé for us? If we have to tell people who we are, surely they aren’t our type in the first place!
As I’ve pointed out in earlier missives, sadly, we DO have to tell people who we are. Most Americans, including most West Virginians, have no idea. In telling anyone whom I work for, I virtually always have to spell the words Episcopal and diocese. (Canon? Fuh-ged-about-it!) Those people who have heard of us have generally heard ABOUT is, through sectarian propagandists, never FROM us from our own point of view. For far too long, we have been loath to tell our own story; so others have told it for us, from a negative perspective, or even worse, they’ve ignored us altogether.
Now, our Office of Public Affairs produces an ad, and offers it for our own voluntary use for free, and what do they get? Mostly negativism (Evangelism Enemy Number One), proving that we don’t really need outside antagonists to drag us down, we can do that quite nicely all by ourselves.
I do not dispute with any of the criticisms thoughtful readers have aimed at the ad. In fact, it does not do any of the things people complain that it does not do. What we are not keeping in mind is that no ad can say everything, and no ad can be directed at every audience. This particular one was written for the readers of USA Today, not exactly a warm-fuzzy reading audience, but one that is very well informed about national and international affairs. (Designing it to appeal to US would have been pretty silly.) Yet many of their readers are unaware that we are actually a Christian communion, with ancient and honorable roots along with the awareness that we live in the twenty-first century. Even fewer know that we are not just for white Anglos anymore, and practically none know that we are ourselves an international church. Airplane passengers and hotel dwellers have some time to read a “wordy” ad, and a higher-than-average tendency to do so, and those are the readers of USA Today.
Eddie Isom is shrewd, I think, in suggesting that this ad is a subtle response to the recent news of the Vatican’s offer to Episcopal clergy (which I daresay got more air time than anyone expected it to). The timing is excellent. Right after you get your name in the news is a fantastic time to pay money to get your name in the news again—on your own terms—to double the bang for your buck! It cannot be an accident that this ad refers to grace after divorce, women in ordained roles, personal responsibility in planned parenting, honoring differences, and valuing love over uniformity of opinion.
I would hope that some work can be done on the more emotional and relational aspects of Episcopal Church membership, too. Those things are harder, though, and they take time. Mostly, I suspect, they happen through personal experience rather than through a print ad. Meanwhile, I suggest that we on the ground focus our efforts on insuring that, when TEC does get around to marketing our warm and supportive Christian community, it won’t be guilty of false advertising.
As for the Church Office of Public Affairs, I say, “Congratulations! Good for you! Now, hit ‘em again, from another angle!” If they put out enough ads, maybe they’ll eventually get around to one we all like.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
A Volley from the Canon, #69
THE CHURCH HAS LEFT THE BUILDING
Bishop Klusmeyer has appointed a small group to produce a statement on the meaning of ministry as we understand and practice it in West Virginia. (I am not a member, but serve as staff liaison, and therefore, have very little to say. Ha!)
For illustrative purposes, and to get the wheels spinning, not to settle the matter: the group began with the idea that ministry is rooted in and based upon baptism. They talked about its connection to Creation, Incarnation, and Epiphany. They drew scriptural connections. They talked about Sacrament, and Discipleship. Finally, they seemed to arrive at an idea that ministry originates in God’s call to all his creation, to participate, in unity with Him, in his work of restoration of Creation to the state of original blessing. Perhaps it is not so much the activity we do that makes us Christ’s ministers, but the manner in which we do it—transformed by the love of Jesus.
Lay persons in the diocese—this project needs your help! We need to hear something of your experience and thinking about your own ministry and that of others.
How do you describe the work you do in the world?
What motivates you, what inspires you? What is the connection between your
belonging to a church and having a ministry beyond the church in the world?
How is the work you do not merely a job, but a vocation and ministry?
What do we bring to church; what do we leave church with?
Where does your ministry get hard? Why? How? Where do you find your help?
What does it mean to be the Body of Christ, and the Image of God in the
world?
How would you do church if there was no church building?
Please give some thought to these questions, and respond with your own ideas. I’ll be accumulating responses on the blog www.wvdisciple.blogspot.com you may post your contribution there as a “comment” on this piece, or you may reply by email just to me, not to wvmission, and I will post the response on the blog. I’ll credit each contributor, unless you ask me to keep your reply anonymous.
Clergy—sit on your hands this time! We need to hear from lay folks.
We very much look forward to hearing from the ministers of our diocese. Thanks in advance for helping with this foundational work.
Bishop Klusmeyer has appointed a small group to produce a statement on the meaning of ministry as we understand and practice it in West Virginia. (I am not a member, but serve as staff liaison, and therefore, have very little to say. Ha!)
For illustrative purposes, and to get the wheels spinning, not to settle the matter: the group began with the idea that ministry is rooted in and based upon baptism. They talked about its connection to Creation, Incarnation, and Epiphany. They drew scriptural connections. They talked about Sacrament, and Discipleship. Finally, they seemed to arrive at an idea that ministry originates in God’s call to all his creation, to participate, in unity with Him, in his work of restoration of Creation to the state of original blessing. Perhaps it is not so much the activity we do that makes us Christ’s ministers, but the manner in which we do it—transformed by the love of Jesus.
Lay persons in the diocese—this project needs your help! We need to hear something of your experience and thinking about your own ministry and that of others.
How do you describe the work you do in the world?
What motivates you, what inspires you? What is the connection between your
belonging to a church and having a ministry beyond the church in the world?
How is the work you do not merely a job, but a vocation and ministry?
What do we bring to church; what do we leave church with?
Where does your ministry get hard? Why? How? Where do you find your help?
What does it mean to be the Body of Christ, and the Image of God in the
world?
How would you do church if there was no church building?
Please give some thought to these questions, and respond with your own ideas. I’ll be accumulating responses on the blog www.wvdisciple.blogspot.com you may post your contribution there as a “comment” on this piece, or you may reply by email just to me, not to wvmission, and I will post the response on the blog. I’ll credit each contributor, unless you ask me to keep your reply anonymous.
Clergy—sit on your hands this time! We need to hear from lay folks.
We very much look forward to hearing from the ministers of our diocese. Thanks in advance for helping with this foundational work.
Monday, November 9, 2009
for Koinonia, November 2009
The Ninety-and-Nine
A Parable
A certain group of shepherds had a hundred sheep. They cared for them diligently, but they kept them in their sheep-fold. These sheep were a fine and high-quality breed. The sheep didn’t seem to want to mingle on the pastures with other sheep, anyway. The shepherds sheared the sheep regularly, and supported their operation by the sale of wool. They didn’t send any sheep to the slaughter-house, though. They had put out of their mind that domestic sheep have such a purpose in life. They considered it their duty to care for the sheep, and protect them—within the fold.
As time went by, the sheep had lambs, but nearly all of the lambs found a way out of the fold and into the pastures and hillsides beyond, where they did mingle with and sometimes join other flocks, with other shepherds. Some of the older sheep also escaped the fold, while the shepherds weren’t paying attention. Then, many of the older sheep began to die off. The shepherds were saddened by these losses. They gave the deceased members of their flock magnificent and moving burials. What they lacked in knowledge of barbeque, they made up for in funeral ceremony. The flock dwindled.
It came to pass that, at last, there was only one elderly ewe left in the pen. They offered to take her out to pasture, but she did not want to go. She picked around inside the sheepfold, seemingly reminiscing about the way things were in better times. The shepherds themselves did a lot of pining for earlier times with a large, healthy flock.
Finally Frank, who counted as a radical in this staid group, spoke up.
“This is just sad,” Frank said. “What we need to do is get off our butts and go out into the fields and the valleys and round up our sheep, and bring them home.”
“Who would watch after Alice” asked Ed. “She’s all we have left, and the wolves might get her if we go out. Anyway, she counts on us to sit with her and keep her company.
“And what if the sheep refuse to come back? They’ve had a taste of freedom out there on the open pastures. They might not find life in the fold very exciting anymore, especially the younger ones.”
“If we are patient,” added Melba, “they will come back. We just have to maintain the sheep-fold, and be ready to open the gate and let them in.” Maintaining the sheepfold had been a major preoccupation in recent years. With wool from only Alice, there just wasn’t enough to keep things up like they used to do. But it had been a long time since any sheep had applied for readmission. Frank looked dubious.
“What if the sheep-fold is part of our problem? What if we just give it up and gather the sheep out yonder, where they want to be, anyway?” he challenged, knowing he was on shaky ground now. “Maybe we could have just a simpler, more flexible kind of enclosure that would be easy to move and adapt to new conditions.” He had a desperate look in his eyes.
The others quietly gazed at him as if he had grown a second nose. Everyone knew that the quality and traditional design of the sheep-fold were of paramount importance. This reality hardly needed defending against such lunacy. Frank just needed to settle down and get hold of himself.
In a moment, Ed took up the argument matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I want any of those old sheep back, anyway. They wouldn’t fit in here. Let the other shepherds have them.”
“They have tattoos,” said Melba.
“And have you seen them eat?” said Ed. “It isn’t pretty.”
“I don’t like the noises they make,” added Melba, “They don’t know the old, dignified ‘baa’ of our chosen breed. No class at all.”
“Can you guarantee that if we leave Alice and go out looking for more sheep, it will even work?” asked Ed, with an air of having played the Rook card.
Frank was stumped. He realized that there was risk in what he had suggested. He also had a certain attachment to the old ways. But the old ways were gone! All they had left was sweet old Alice, whom he observed standing obliviously apart, placidly tormenting a tuft of grass with her few remaining teeth. She belched, as genteelly as one can.
Frank knew he had a choice to make, and he must make it soon. Should he stick around with Ed and Melba, reminiscing about the old, familiar days, until poor Alice went the way of all flesh, and the sheep-fold had to be shut down for good? Or should he leave the one sheep on her own,--and his comrades as well, if they chose that-- and head out into the rough, unfamiliar terrain, in search of the ninety-and-nine “lost” sheep of his fold? It would be a scary move.
But, in the shepherding business, doesn’t one need some sheep?
A Parable
A certain group of shepherds had a hundred sheep. They cared for them diligently, but they kept them in their sheep-fold. These sheep were a fine and high-quality breed. The sheep didn’t seem to want to mingle on the pastures with other sheep, anyway. The shepherds sheared the sheep regularly, and supported their operation by the sale of wool. They didn’t send any sheep to the slaughter-house, though. They had put out of their mind that domestic sheep have such a purpose in life. They considered it their duty to care for the sheep, and protect them—within the fold.
As time went by, the sheep had lambs, but nearly all of the lambs found a way out of the fold and into the pastures and hillsides beyond, where they did mingle with and sometimes join other flocks, with other shepherds. Some of the older sheep also escaped the fold, while the shepherds weren’t paying attention. Then, many of the older sheep began to die off. The shepherds were saddened by these losses. They gave the deceased members of their flock magnificent and moving burials. What they lacked in knowledge of barbeque, they made up for in funeral ceremony. The flock dwindled.
It came to pass that, at last, there was only one elderly ewe left in the pen. They offered to take her out to pasture, but she did not want to go. She picked around inside the sheepfold, seemingly reminiscing about the way things were in better times. The shepherds themselves did a lot of pining for earlier times with a large, healthy flock.
Finally Frank, who counted as a radical in this staid group, spoke up.
“This is just sad,” Frank said. “What we need to do is get off our butts and go out into the fields and the valleys and round up our sheep, and bring them home.”
“Who would watch after Alice” asked Ed. “She’s all we have left, and the wolves might get her if we go out. Anyway, she counts on us to sit with her and keep her company.
“And what if the sheep refuse to come back? They’ve had a taste of freedom out there on the open pastures. They might not find life in the fold very exciting anymore, especially the younger ones.”
“If we are patient,” added Melba, “they will come back. We just have to maintain the sheep-fold, and be ready to open the gate and let them in.” Maintaining the sheepfold had been a major preoccupation in recent years. With wool from only Alice, there just wasn’t enough to keep things up like they used to do. But it had been a long time since any sheep had applied for readmission. Frank looked dubious.
“What if the sheep-fold is part of our problem? What if we just give it up and gather the sheep out yonder, where they want to be, anyway?” he challenged, knowing he was on shaky ground now. “Maybe we could have just a simpler, more flexible kind of enclosure that would be easy to move and adapt to new conditions.” He had a desperate look in his eyes.
The others quietly gazed at him as if he had grown a second nose. Everyone knew that the quality and traditional design of the sheep-fold were of paramount importance. This reality hardly needed defending against such lunacy. Frank just needed to settle down and get hold of himself.
In a moment, Ed took up the argument matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I want any of those old sheep back, anyway. They wouldn’t fit in here. Let the other shepherds have them.”
“They have tattoos,” said Melba.
“And have you seen them eat?” said Ed. “It isn’t pretty.”
“I don’t like the noises they make,” added Melba, “They don’t know the old, dignified ‘baa’ of our chosen breed. No class at all.”
“Can you guarantee that if we leave Alice and go out looking for more sheep, it will even work?” asked Ed, with an air of having played the Rook card.
Frank was stumped. He realized that there was risk in what he had suggested. He also had a certain attachment to the old ways. But the old ways were gone! All they had left was sweet old Alice, whom he observed standing obliviously apart, placidly tormenting a tuft of grass with her few remaining teeth. She belched, as genteelly as one can.
Frank knew he had a choice to make, and he must make it soon. Should he stick around with Ed and Melba, reminiscing about the old, familiar days, until poor Alice went the way of all flesh, and the sheep-fold had to be shut down for good? Or should he leave the one sheep on her own,--and his comrades as well, if they chose that-- and head out into the rough, unfamiliar terrain, in search of the ninety-and-nine “lost” sheep of his fold? It would be a scary move.
But, in the shepherding business, doesn’t one need some sheep?
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