Category Archives: Pastoring

Pastoring is a 24/7 gig. This doesn’t always mean that you’re constantly being called for things, but it does mean that your mind/heart never stop pondering the state of the congregation you’ve been called to.

Ten Years

Posted on May 17, 2013 | 2 Comments

Central Baptist CongregationThis past Sunday marked my tenth year at Central Baptist. I was thirty when I arrived with my wife, bringing along two small children to an unknown landscape. Even though I grew up fourteen miles from where I now live, I frequently had to point to folks that my understanding of New Jersey geography consisted of vague blobs marking “Camden” and “The Cherry Hill Mall” with a more finely detailed map in the East marked “The Jersey Shore.” In-between consisted of blank space marked “here be dragons.” Ten years later, even though I find myself glancing longingly over the river from time to time, we’ve settled into life here in Jersey quite nicely. Our kids are in school, my wife and I have become part of the community. We’re “home.”

The church has changed at lot over the years as well. I took a picture on Sunday and I’m struck by just how different it is. New faces have become part of the family, others have moved on because life-transitions, and more than a few departed in reaction to the mistakes and fumbling which are inevitable with a young pastor. More than anything, though, I’ve buried quite a few people – too many people. I hope they are pleased with what Central is becoming.

When I first arrived Central was in crisis. It wasn’t in crisis because the people were awful or because the church was a relic, and I want to make that clear. Central was in crisis because the system which helped keep people in relationship had ceased functioning. The creaking of the gears made it afraid to move, lest a failure create more conflict and begin yet another exodus from the congregation. Ten years later we’re still a congregation in crisis, as is just about every small church, but the nature of the crisis has been transformed. The web of relationships we call Central Baptist is no longer in crisis because it’s afraid to move against creaking joints. Rather, our crisis is about discovering who we’re meant to be. In a real sense Central Baptist Church, which is over a century old, has hit adolescence – again. I don’t take much credit for this. All I did is learn patience, grow in love, and allow my natural obliviousness shield me from the natural storms of emotional upheaval. I’ve done what I was supposed to do.

I know many pastors sometimes feel a mild resentment towards the congregations they pastor because they feel beholden to them. While it’s not healthy, it is understandable. Being dependent on one’s “employer” for salary, community, and even housing can become overwhelming – especially if the congregation likes to point those realities out to the pastor. Ten years in, having experienced many of the ups and downs of pastoral existence, I can honestly say one truth. I am, indeed, beholden to the people of Central Baptist in many ways. Not because they’ve chained me down, but because they’ve set me free. I’m free to learn, grow, write, teach, and challenge. I’m free to imagine, play, and dream. Most of all I’m free to try, and just as free to fail. That last gift might be the greatest blessing the living web we call “Central Baptist” has given me. I hope I’ve helped you be free in Christ as well.

We continue to have much work to do as we move through congregational adolescence together. We have to learn who we are called to be, and embrace our calling with maturity and wisdom. As the process moves forward I need to celebrate accomplishing what I should have been doing, continue doing it, and figure out what I need to do. What an amazing voyage.

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Facing fear

Posted on May 2, 2013 | Leave a comment

I’ve been pondering a question for a while, “What am I afraid of?” It’s one of those questions people are tempted to give quick answers too, like “spiders!” I’m not sure the quick answers, however, are good reflections of what people are really afraid of. I think people are alarmed by spiders [1]. Fear, however, is something I define as something which shakes the core of your being.

So, what am I afraid of? Simply put, I’m afraid of being left behind.

No, I’m not referring to the awful apocalyptic novels based on the equally terrible rapture theology prevalent in many Protestant churches. What I’m afraid of is putting down roots some place and then turning around one day to see nothing but tumble-weeds blowing around behind me.

As far as fears go, this is a powerful one for a pastor to experience – especially in a church desperately staving off decline. As with many smaller congregations, we suffer from noticeable “membership churn.” People come into the congregation for a season or two, and then get called away to continue their journey elsewhere. This really isn’t any different than what happens at a larger church, but when you have 40–60 people present on a given Sunday the departure of a family or two over the year is agonizingly noticeable. This is what sparks my fear, “Oh my gosh we can’t keep losing people.”

The worst I felt was a two summers ago when we lost about 10 people through a combination of moves, deaths, and congregational migration. My heart sunk, because I simply couldn’t see how the church could continue. Attendance was down, energy was down, hope was fading. I was at that moment many pastors get to at some point. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel was absolutely convinced it was an oncoming train.

That summer was a low point, but that fear gets acerbated fairly regularly – particularly on holiday weekends when folks take their long weekends and enjoy a nice break away from the community. I don’t begrudge people those breaks, but as I see even more empty pews on a Sunday the fear creeps in. People are free to move their religious setting fairly easily – they don’t have to change their address, employment, or social circles. If I were to do a similar move each of those would go into instant upheaval. If the congregation were forced to close, or if people decided my journey as the pastor of central had run it’s course, the pain of that upheaval would be all the more intense. This makes me afraid.

To be honest, I think it’s a fear many pastors share. It’s what gives us pause before we speak prophetically to our congregations, makes us painfully aware of who the “good givers” are, and makes us want to be liked by the congregation. So if I’m afraid, how do I do ministry? It’s an important question.

Fear can be debilitating. As I described above, I experienced the influence of fear a couple of summers ago – it locked me up for several weeks. I continue to have moments where fear gives me pause – both at Central and at denominational events. While some people would consider admitting such fear is a sign of weakness, I consider it part of the process of handing it over to God. Yes, I’m afraid of being left behind as the structures in which pursue my calling collapse around me. God, however, isn’t. I have a calling on my life, to help people grow in their pursuit of Jesus and his Kingdom, and the comfort of that calling from Jesus overwhelms my fear of circumstances. That’s the work of the Holy Spirit in, and though, me.

My fear is real, but Jesus’ hope is greater – and that is why I am able to continue on my journey.

What are you afraid of?

  1. While I’m not alarmed by spiders, I don’t blame anyone who is freaked out by them.  ↩

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How a church died

Posted on April 28, 2013 | 4 Comments
Stillwaters in an old church

Tonight our association held their annual meeting at a church which shut down several years ago. I’ve been in the building several times since it closed down, and it’s always depressed me — the musty smell, the empty space, the sheer amount of lost potential. Until tonight, however, I’d never quite figured out how the church collapsed so thoroughly. From all reports the church had a sizable endowment as late as the 90’s, and with some decent management it could still be doing significant ministry. So what happened?

The end-game of the church was, unfortunately, a story which has played out again and again in churches. A pastor is called without wisdom, severs the church’s relationships with other congregations and the congregants relationships with each other, and then moves on — blaming everyone else for the destruction caused. Yet, a church with the resources that this one had going for it needn’t have taken that path — a path often taken out of a sense of desperation. The reality of what happened to the church never fit with else I knew about it, until tonight.

During the meeting I wound up in a hallway I’d never paid much attention to before. On the walls were several dozen plaques, all dedicated to the same pastor. He was everywhere. The mayor of the town honored him, civic organizations honored him, religious organizations honored him, the church gave him plaque after plaque. From the dates on the plaques I gleaned the pastor had been there for sometime, at least from the 60’s into the early 90’s. When the scope of those plaques hit me I realized what killed the church. When the pastor left, the church just stopped. After showing the hallway to a friend and mentioning my insight, she pointed out another plaque with the pastor’s name on it. This one, dedicating an education wing, listed the dates of the pastor’s reign — 1947 to 1994. Forty-seven years!

As the sheer weight of that reign sunk in, I began to realize something else. The decor of the church was vintage 60’s and 70’s. the upkeep of the building looked like it had slowed to a crawl years before it closed, which was odd given the endowment the church had possessed. The church hadn’t stopped after the 47 year pastor left, it stopped at least a decade before he ended his reign.

Suddenly, the run-down and empty church was no longer depressing, it was frightening. We slip into stagnation so easily, and then entropy — organizational, spiritual, and physical — works it’s deadly power. Stability can be a wonderful thing, but when stability becomes the thing, the death cycle has begun. It’s a sobering thought.

 

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What is a “Creative?”

Posted on April 8, 2013 | Leave a comment

Street LampToday I read an article about finding the next Steve Jobs. It makes the point that many companies are incapable of finding such a person because “creatives” are natural “non-conformists” who get weeded out by the hiring process.  Creative-types tend to throw up red-flags which reveal how they won’t fit in the corporate structure.  This of course, is their most valuable asset to any company which hires them.

Having read the article, I can’t help but agree that church too-often functions the same way.  Churches, of any theological stripe, are naturally “conservative.”  That is, they tend towards a static reality.  This is true of congregations all along the theological continuum – from fundamentalist and progressive.  Congregations tend to get locked into a mind-set, and deviations from it are typically demoralized or expunged, praise God.

What does it mean to be a “creative” though?  Often times, congregations make the assumption that taking part of the latest and greatest “new thing” means “being creative.”  Political protests, best-selling books, and worship music-style become the gage of a church’s “creativity.”  The problem is, this isn’t true.  In fact, most of what churches typically call “creativity” is really more of a sign of consumerism.

Creatives aren’t fad-seekers, nor are they necessarily concerned with being part of the “latest and greatest.”  Some of the most creative people I know, in fact, are part of high liturgical traditions.  On the flip-side, some of the least creative people I know are concerned with using the most current songs/programs/public beliefs.

So what makes someone a Creative?  Simply put, a Creative is simply someone who is able to look at problems from  angels which aren’t typically considered by others.  From their unique vantage points, they are able to consider opportunities which others might not see, or solutions to problems which others wouldn’t consider.  As one might expect, Creatives create.  They write songs, think up new ways to teach people things they might think they know, or consider the best ways to communicate Truth to other’s.

While the article describes Creatives as “non-conformist” this shouldn’t automatically be interpreted as “unable to play nicely with others.”  At their best, Creatives aren’t hostile to the notion of conforming to an existing system.  Rather, their creativity allows them to work around and through conformity.  This tends to have two effects.  First, it allows Creatives bring their new perspective to others in a way which is not overtly threatening.  Second, it affords Creatives a way to highlight the strengths and weaknesses which a given system has.  Such highlighting is what allows Creatives to help systems to flex when confronted with situations it isn’t prepared for.

In the challenging transition which is facing many churches, it would be good if we encouraged Creatives to bring their different angles to the table without fear of the system closing in around them.  In this way our churches might begin to see opportunities where most see only obstacles.

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Don’t comment angry

Posted on March 20, 2013 | Leave a comment

praying handsI recently read a Huffington Post Article asking the question, “What if kids don’t want our church?” It likened church structures (both organizational and physical) to “family heirlooms” which may have been treasured for generations but no longer fit the goals and lifestyles of the current generation.

There’s a lot I agree with in the article I agree with. In fact, there’s a great deal in the article which I feel. I’ve never quite understood why I should treasure something just because you think it’s “nice.” This doesn’t mean I’m not happy for people who enjoy “nice” things because they are “nice,” it’s just not my cup of tea, so I’m quite happy being pleased from a distance.

I don’t necessarily agree with the take-away from the post, which seems to trash the concept of heirlooms itself as a relic from a bygone era, but the lesson is well-learned nonetheless. Coming generations maintain connections differently than more recent ones – and that needs to be acknowledged instead of ridiculed.

None of that is why I’m writing this post. How’s that for B-movie misdirection?

I’m writing this post because of the comments to the referenced story. Comments which make me despair for humanity. In particular this comment made me want to weep:

If you care nothing for your fellow man, keep going to church.

If you care even less, become a pastor, and profit from your indifference toward mankind while being respected for holding a status for pretending to care.

Now, many Christians (including me) are tempted to be angered and hurt by such a statement. That, after all, is the point of making such a statement in the first place – to hurt others so people could see just how much one hates the target.

So how should Christians respond to statements like the above? I’ve seen see a wide range of responses – smug superiority, outrage, fear, pain, and even compassion. In the comments to articles, which I should just give up for Lent and forever, the most prominent tend to be outrage and smugness. Too often Christians respond with equally hurtful messages along the lines of, “Well one day you’ll find out you were wrong” or “you stupid atheists are the reason God is pouring out judgement on this country.” Nobody wounds others like a wounded person. If I am learning anything about interactions on the Internet it’s this, “Don’t post out of a sense of retaliation.” It doesn’t help.

So how should we respond? Well, this week is Palm Sunday, and I’m preaching out of Isaiah 50:4-9. In this passage the prophet declares how he’d been given the tongue of “one who was learned” so that he might help the weary. Morning after morning Isaiah’s ears were opened so he might continue to be taught for that ministry. He never rebelled or turned back from it.

His obedience, however, came only through a great many temptations to walk a path other than the one God had called him to walk. Just look at verse 6:

I gave my back to those who strike,

and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard;

I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting.

Had Isaiah responded disgrace for disgrace, he wouldn’t be the person he’d been called to be.

Preaching this passage on Palm Sunday is particularly telling. Like the prophet before him, Jesus turned fixedly toward Jerusalem (what Isaiah calls a “face like a flint”) and went to the Holy City. He went to be treated in the exact same fashion, respond with the same obedient response, and in so doing conquer sin and death.

Jesus’ link to Isaiah’s obedience wasn’t only meant for him personally, however, nor is it isolated to his Passion. In fact, in Matthew 5:38-39, Jesus tells his disciples to “turn the other cheek.” That is, to respond to insult by offering to be insulted again rather than retaliate. This is not an easy path, but following Jesus is supposed to be a radically different lifestyle.

So next time you see someone insulting your faith, trying to make you angry and retaliate in some fashion, remember Isaiah. Remember Jesus. Remember what you’ve been commanded to do, and turn the other cheek. Jesus doesn’t need to be defended by our presumed cleverness or angry retorts. He wants us to love others every bit as much as he loves us.

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Trained Up

Posted on March 5, 2013 | Leave a comment

Accordance TrainingTwo years ago, the folks who make Accordance graciously accepted an invite to come Central Baptist and offer a training seminar for the folks in South Jersey (and beyond).  Just over a month ago, I got an email from those same folks saying they were going to be in a nearby seminary, and wondered if we would be interested in hosting another seminar.  Of course I said yes.

Since I moved over to the Mac platform, Accordance has been my “go to” tool for Bible Study.  I’ve used other programs on other platforms, and I like them each in their own way, but the speed and versatility of Accordance has held my attention longer than any other.  It’s truly a joy to use, and not just for the software.  The developers of accordance, as well as the other employee’s of OakTree Software, are good folks – and that shows in the community which has sprung up around their powerful suite.  These are folks who are easy to host.

Not only are these easy to host, they are easy to listen to. The people who teach these seminars  are “on” for hours with very little in the way of breaks.  They play multiple roles during the course of the day – teacher, IT troubleshooter, and salesperson are just a few.  The amount of care and energy these folks expend to present a free seminar is truly impressive. My hat is off to both Mark and Paul.

I always learn something new at the training seminars, and this year was no exception.  I need to go back and practice it, but the ability to compare texts for similar word-structures just blew my mind.  I also look forward to playing with the construct engine, so I can learn how to use it more effectively.  The power of these tools simply blows my mind.

I also enjoy the people I meet when I host events such as this one. I may be a natural introvert, but it’s also fun to hear some of the stories which surround the people who come.  This past event was especially interesting as I invited a pastor to join myself and three other ABCNJ staff members for lunch.  He seemed to have a lot of fun, and actually enjoyed the sales pitch for ABCNJ. You never know what God does with something as simple as, “Hey, wanna tag along?”

Thanks for coming, Accordance. Come back again.

 

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Come, ye sinner, poor and needy

Posted on February 15, 2013 | Leave a comment

One of my favorite hymns is Come, ye sinners, poor and needy.  I sometimes get some flak for selecting it because people see it as a “downer,” but I’ll take this hymn over 90% of the praise music we sing.  It also ranks up there with some of the great theological hymns of the faith like A mighty fortress and How firm a foundation in terms of my fondness for it.  The hymn is a stark reminder we are sinners and must trust in the bounty of God in order to be relieved of our burden.  In the refrain worshippers get to declare, “I will arise and go to Jesus, He will embrace me in his arms.”  There is something absolutely beautiful about being reminded of sinners running to the savior, instead of away – and also with re-inserting ourselves into the place of “sinner,” which we too easily forget as we become “respectable.”

I often like to look at older versions of my favorite hymns, in order to see what verses have been dropped out, or what language may have been changed over the years or through translation.  Oddly enough, I’d never done this for Come, ye sinners, poor and needy until this morning. I found two verses which our hymnal doesn’t contain, the first of which strikes my heart to the core.

View Him prostrate in the garden;
On the ground your Maker lies;
On the bloody tree behold Him;
Sinner, will this not suffice?

In those words I can hear the voice of God.  Too often we treat grace like a cheap commodity.  We “get saved” like we’re subscribing for a magazine subscription.  I think folks who are outside the faith take notice of how cheaply we treat grace, and how quickly we forgive our own sins while condemning others, and come to the conclusion the faith is of little actually worth in our hearts and in the world. In the above verse I hear the voice of God reminding us of how precious the price was which purchased us from sin and death. God speaks, “Sinner, will this not suffice to release you from brokenness, pain, and despair?  Will this not suffice to  quench your thirst for righteousness and your longing for love?”  And in response to that glorious question worshippers are privileged to respond, “I will arise and go to Jesus, He will embrace me in his arms.”

How beautiful.

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An introvert’s ideal season – Lent

Posted on February 13, 2013 | 3 Comments

Lent has come and I’m quite glad for it’s arrival.  Over the years I’ve come to appreciate Lent more and more.  It’s given me the opportunity to add disciplines to my spiritual life, set aside some good things in order to do other good things, and Journey with Christ on the way to the Cross.  Lent has become, for me,  a time of growth and renewal in a way no other season in the Christian year quite matches.  Don’t get me wrong, I adore the celebration of the Easter season and the awe of Christmas – but as Lent begins I find myself taking permission to breathe.  It’s a beautiful time.

I have noticed as I get older my introverted tendencies are becoming more pronounced.  Crowds feel more draining, and busyness more oppressive.  I still need to be in a crowd, lest I end up imploding on myself and becoming a recluse.  I also still need to experience busyness, because it stretches me in ways I wouldn’t naturally tend to bend (figuratively speaking).  Lent, though, is like an introvert’s dream season – an entire season which consists of largely holy introspection, and contemplative service.  How many times during the year, either inside or outside the Church, do we say, “Hey, let’s do less and instead go deep?” It’s that permission to slow and reflect which makes me embrace the season of Lent so openly.

This year, I wrote a devotional for Central Baptist.  This is going to be my added discipline for the season.  I will be committing to do pursue this devotional at night before bed, when I’m typically catching up on news or puttering around on social networks (which I’ll be not accessing even the evening during Lent – though I need to explore how to turn off those notifications in Android).  I’m also committing to keep the devotional journal in hand-written form (on my iPad – not even Lent will cause me to love writing on paper).  Why hand-written?  For the simple reason that it takes more time for me to write out my thoughts by hand.  I can type out paragraph after paragraph without thinking, but writing my thoughts it is much different experience.

I would also like to add back in some exercise (a discipline I’d like to continue through the year following Lent).  I went through Couch to 5k last year, and it went well – but allergy season hit me hard and I couldn’t keep up with running (which, try as I might, I simply don’t enjoy).  I’m considering spending lunchtime on Monday, Wednesday, Friday exercising instead of eating a meal (yes, I’ve already missed today, I didn’t plan ahead enough).  Either way putting my body to work will make me a better servant, so it’s a good discipline to keep up.

Welcome to Lent, read my blog less.

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Hello 2013

Posted on January 1, 2013 | Leave a comment

The last several years as December has drawn to a close I’ve taken time to reflect on the year past. As I prepared to sit down this year and write my 2012 reflection, however, I drew a blank. Instead, I began to think about my hopes for 2013. So now I write to you my goals for 2013.

Writing

I continue to have a couple of writing projects in progress. I’d like to get these completed, and add one more project to the list.

First, I would like to finish Idea Painting and get it published in the major eBook outlets, and also have an enhanced version for the iBooks store. The bulk of the material is completed, but I’d like to add more depth to the opening section, which means I will have to do some significant research. I’m beginning to compile a list of books to read, in 2013 I will get to it!

Second, I would like to finish my novel, In the Land of the Penny Gnomes, before NaNoWriMo next Autumn. I didn’t get to write much as 2012 came to a close due to my own mental weariness, but I’m beginning to feel refreshed and I’d like to get back to it! I don’t care if it is only ever read by my friends and family, it’s just something I’ve always wanted to do.

Third, I’d like to write a new devotional study for Central Baptist to journey through in the fall. In the past I’ve written studies on evangelism, pilgrimage, hospitality, and the Holy Spirit. I’m not sure where to go next, but as I sit here the notion of “calling” is popping into my head. We shall see!

Geek Goals

I have four geek goals for 2013.

First, Central has purchased FileMaker Pro so we can create a good membership database. I have our data in, but I need to create reports and queries and layout. This will take time, and I’ll need to learn FileMaker’s scripting language to do it well. I haven’t been this excited for a project like this in a while, hopefully it turns out well!

Second, I want 2013 to be the year ABCNJ gets its video studio up and running. This will require work, funding, and much learning. It’s my hope a video studio, with several live shows along with recorded news and interviews, will help ABCNJ to strengthen its sense of kinship.

My third goal is to work with the ABCNJ staff to better equip them to use the regional tech tools. Being part-time can be frustrating, I see holes which I can’t properly address due too sheer lack of time. This year we will try to remedy that.

Finally, now that my kids are both hitting adolescence, as are their friends, I feel the time is right to work on a project I’ve pondered for years – an internet safety seminar. My wife has been incredible working with our daughter as she learns the freedom of having a phone, and it has inspired me. The lessons we’ve learned in our home, along with my technological understanding, are a valuable combination. I’ve already written a rough outline, by spring I’d like to have it put together. If this can be a skillshare class, so much the better.

Pastoral Goal

I have one main pastoral goal this year, finish our transition! Our transition team has done admirable work, it’s now time to put it to use and let the Holy Spirit use it to take us toward our next journey as a congregation.

Conclusion

These goals, along with my normal work of pastoral care (preaching, visiting, praying, teaching) and ABCNJ’s normal rhythm (Annual Session approaches), should keep me vocationally busy for 2013! As always, however, family comes first. With all my lofty goals, being a decent husband and father trumps my other goals (I have no illusions about being good at either role, I just try to do my best and not screw my family up too much in the process).

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Dear Ideologues

Posted on December 17, 2012 | Leave a comment

It's been several days since the horrific events which transpired in Newtown, Connecticut. In the interim I have preached, forced myself to read the names and ages of the victims in prayer during worship, and have had to force my heart to keep feeling as I looked up to God and questioned, “Why?”

I have also been subject to the endless proclamations of ideologues, each of whom has a simplistic answer which, if only people would listen, would assure that nothing like this would ever happen again (or have happened in the first place). By Saturday the ideologues took over my Facebook feed – filling it with images which “proved” their ideology was all that stood between the American people and a replay of the events in Sandy Hook elementary school.

I write this post to all the ideologues who are saying, “If only the world were the way I want it to be, this wouldn't have happened.” I ask you, “Please stop.”

Gun control advocates do not have “the blood of children” on their hands. Gun owners are not a faceless mass of cruel idiots looking for trouble. Terrible and violent acts happened in this country long before prayer was taken out of school. Your public comments do nothing to help the country grieve and move forward, and your Facebook posters are example of mob-mentality of the worst kind. Why do you do this? Why, in a time of extreme grief, do you get out in public and find a target upon which to vent your frustration?

I'd like to hazard a guess.

There is a phenomenon I've seen around funerals which I call the, “Back to normal” response. This comes in many different varieties, but it's most potent form occurs a few days after a family has buried a loved one. People who engage a grieving community or family in conversation will ask, “Are things getting back to normal yet?” I give grieving people permission to carry around a whiffle-ball bat and give one smack to anyone who asks that question. They have to immediately apologize, and they can't seek to injure (no swinging at the head), but I give them permission because people need to see how incredibly uncaring such a question actually is. “Normal” is to have the deceased loved one around the table, continuing to be part of the community. Grief is, in a sense, the process of recognizing “normal” no longer exists. People tend not to understand this function of grief, and when they encounter people who are grieving they simply don't know how to respond. They utter statements like the above in order to ease their own discomfort. Related comments include, “She/He is in a better place” and “Well, at least they lived a long life.” They are statements for the benefit of the speaker, not the griever.

I believe something similar is going on with all the ideological responses I'm encountering to the tragedy in Connecticut. It is a scene of such inexplicable horror we recoil from actually processing it. To do so would put us face to face with the abyss of the apparent meaninglessness of life and the with the incredible power people have to do evil. It is, in short, terrifying. In order to escape this sense of terror we tend to move towards easy answers, through which we hope the world can be made to make more sense. This is, I think, what the bulk of our ideological responses are – a desperate grab to have the world make sense again. History shows us one of the easiest ways to create a sense of internal order is to establish an “us vs. them” paradigm. So gun right activists blame this mess on gun control activists (and vice versa). Some Christians set up the paradigm of “us against the entire culture,” and blame the removal of God from our schools for the tragedy (for the most part, our culture doesn't seem to be blaming religion at this point, as most people are just looking at those comments and thinking, “Wow, that's pretty pathetic.” This leaves angry Evangelicals currently without a dance partner, but I think it might be for the best).

Whatever the ideology espoused, the purpose appears to be getting the world back into order without actually having to process the horror of what has happened. As a defense mechanism, I have to admit it may be quite effective in the short-term. Parents had to kiss their children good-bye this morning and send them to school (My wife is subbing today, and it wasn't until afterward I realized my entire family was in school today. I admit, I had a moment of panic at the thought). Being able to blame an opposing ideology for the tragedy may have given people the outlet they needed in order to function “normally” this morning. Ideological responses are ages-old, after all, and there is a reason they've survived so long.

Here's the problem. By not facing the depth of what happened in Sandy Hook, we won't ever actually grieve. Without that, I believe God-given, process we won't every really be able to move forward in hope and in memory. Ideologically-driven responses can keep us from the pain for a while, but the anger these ideologies focus toward our ideological opponents will also continue to grow. Eventually, the very medicine we instinctively use to keep us from trauma will begin to poison us. We become like people who never grieve the loss of a loved one, we stop living and allow bitterness to define who we are.

This is why I'm asking the ideologues to stop their campaigns. Not because you don't have a First Amendment right to speak, and not because I have have a better ideology. I ask you to stop because we need to heal, and masking our grief with both ideological desire and ideological anger is actually preventing us from doing so.

 

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