Reflections

I was able to listen to theologian Walter Brueggemann speak last week. He was reflecting on the 50 year ministry of John Buchanan, a Presbyterian Pastor, and dear friend to Walter, and to me. Brueggemann organized his thoughts around the theme of what it means to “go to church.”

This event took place just I was beginning my journey here at HCUMC, and questions about what it means to “go to church” were ripe in my mind. Several of you have heard me ask just that question as I seek to get to know you individually, and the Holy Covenant community better. What does it mean to go to church here? What it is you seek when you visit this particular meeting place of the Church? Are you looking for comfort? For challenge? For community? For coffee? For opportunities to serve? For Christian education and formation? For great music? For hope?

More importantly though, I think, is remembering that we are called not to “go to church” but rather to BE the Church. It is God’s project, God’s movement , that is the supreme end of the Church. The Church was thus created to be FOR the community not simply to be IN community. We come to church to encounter the Word, and this takes place in an infinite number of ways. We ARE the Church when we then act on that encounter, participating in the Kingdom of God even now. How is God calling you to BE the Church right now? And how can going to Holy Covenant UMC facilitate your response to that call? What is God’s call for HCUMC right now? I invite your ideas!!! And, I now have email and voice mail! Look forward to hearing from you.

Email Polly
(773)-528-6462 ext. 701

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One of the more formative times in my ministry was when I helped lead youth mission trips during my days out in Boone County. I got to team plan with other adult leaders from across the Midwest – many of whom remain dear friends and colleagues. We were all pastors who served financially strapped congregations, so we never did a “canned” trip programmed by a professional outfit. Instead, we did it all together: coordinating work sites, meals, housing, transportation, worship, daily devotions, leader training, and the obligatory fun day. It was taxing, yet I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. And that wasn’t because of anything really major that happened. It was a rather simple thing that made those trips special.

Because the youth and their adult volunteer leaders were split into groups that worked at many different sites, we’d open our evening time together by hearing stories about their projects and the people they’d met. And after they briefed the others on their day, they were asked the question.

“Where did you encounter Jesus today?”

Each team member was supposed to answer. The first couple of days never yielded much. There were a lot of “dittos” after the poor soul who was pushed forward to speak first. To the ones who struggled at the beginning, I’d challenge them to “change their lens” and take a wider (or closer) look at the people and situations that surrounded them. By the time the week was over, they had changed their perspective, and you couldn’t get some of them to be quiet! These were middle and high schoolers, mind you; mumblers of grand pedigree at best, members of a silent monastic order at worst. But they couldn’t shut up about Jesus whenever they were asked where they encountered him that day. For my youth, this continued well beyond the trips. It was the de facto conversation starter for youth group. And it changed the way they looked at the world and themselves.

I understand the comfort of seeing the world through the lens of our context. It helps us to fit in; to blend and be anonymous. But discipleship requires us to look through the lens of our calling. At every turn, the Spirit gives us an opportunity to witness Jesus and hear him calling us into deeper relationship with our neighbors and God. We just need to be looking — both wide-eyed and squinting — and together we will see.

So, friends, where did you encounter Jesus today? I look forward to asking you in person soon.

Peace,
Pastor Matthew

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Scanning through the headlines today was a bit depressing. I really couldn’t find a bit of good news anywhere in the front sections of the city’s newspapers. I guess that, maybe, people still like it that way. At least that’s what the publishers would say.

I remember attending a conference at a prestigious journalism school many years ago. I was there to learn how to make my university’s student paper better and get some insight from top journalists on what would best serve our readers and advertisers.

When it came time for our consultation with the professionals, they passed around our recent edition, mumbled to themselves, and jotted a few notes in green marker on the pages.

“Are you committed to the tabloid format?” one expert asked, referring to the smaller size of our pages, ala the Chicago Sun-Times.

It was an interesting question. I told them it was the size we’d always been … at least for the past 50 years.

“Be a tabloid then,” the expert concluded.

They then went on to give us the formula for turning our student paper into the New York Post. Big graphics. Even bigger headlines. Tease your content. Twist your topic. Push people inside. (more…)

When I was in high school, I worked at a hardware store doing all kinds of things. I stocked shelves, operated the register, answered phones and cut keys. And sometimes I helped people – that is, when they let me. In those days (before the big box chains popped up in the cornfields) the hardware store was the haven of the “I can do it myself” person. In fact, our distributor – Hardware Wholesalers, Inc. – called many of their stores “Do It” centers. Of course, those who didn’t want my help had their reasons. Namely, that I was too young. What right or experience did I have to offer them help? They didn’t need me. Or so they thought. On countless occasions, after two-or-three return trips, they would begrudgingly accept my assistance in finding the fitting they needed, the nails that wouldn’t split the trim, the screws that would hold in the cinder block, and the right tools for the job. Yet, it was always with great distress that they said “thank you.” It was as if they had lost something of themselves.

Looking back on those days now, I have come to understand that they weren’t just embarrassed – they were grieving. They were grieving the dying myth of the rugged individual. They were grieving the assumed truth that they could be whatever they wanted (and do it themselves). It has failed them. It was a lie. The self-help section at the book store might as well be lumped in with the fantasy titles, because that kind of thinking is not of this world.

It is a vulnerable position to be in … once you realize that you (and everybody else) are in need of help. And, if you think I’m exaggerating, consider your reaction the next time the power goes out, or the store is out of what you need, or your car breaks, or (God forbid) there is a fire or a health problem. We all need help, and we could need it at any moment.

The Christian faith is full of examples of how being “helpless” isn’t a bad thing; in fact, it is a God thing. Being helpless and needing a helper is part of a new paradigm for living (or the paradigm that was true all along) that claims we need each other. We are complete when we are together. Being weak or exposed is a good thing when you are part of a community where there is trust and mutual love. Being vulnerable enough to ask for assistance and humble enough to receive it is a tangible way that God’s presence is known.

So, what if that is what it means to be saved? What is salvation is found in our crying out and answering each other in love? That’s how it started at Christmas, and maybe that’s how it can restart in us and our world.

Peace,

Pastor Matthew

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I write this from a desk that has now become a makeshift music studio. I am surrounded by blinking lights, knobs and switches. Wires snake around each other on the way to their destinations. I have spent the past few days getting lost in the signals they send. This is not the first time this has happened, but it is the first time in a long time. And I am remembering why I enjoy it so much.

I have recorded snippets of this and that for the past 20 years. Much of it is nothing more than musical doodling; there is very little of it that I’d be comfortable sharing with anyone. This has always been the tension for me. I have often felt like I have to justify exercising my creativity and imagination. I feel like it has to be meaningful to someone else to be worth the time; profitable for myself or those for whom I work. If if has no meaning or purpose beyond me, it seems like a waste of time. (I know, very Protestant of me.)

This year, I am going to work on being OK with wasting time in this way. Because, if I “waste” time doing what I love and what makes my heart glow with joy, it is at least a holy waste of time. If it brings me joy, it originated from the source of joy. If it makes me live, it originates from the source of life. I don’t need to justify living as God made me.

Do what you love, friends. Do what gives you meaning. Do what makes you resonate with the song of your heart. It isn’t a waste. It is God in you.

I resolve to discover and be who I am in 2012, and to love you enough to walk with you as you do the same. Let me know how I can do that for you!

Until then, the headphones are going back on. (Wait, what? Did you say something?)

Pastor Matthew

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The Staff Parish Relations Committee is excited to announce that we have hired an Evening Worship Leader and a Ministry Associate. Steve Thorngate will be our Evening Worship Leader starting the week of January 2. Rev. Polly Toner will be our Ministry Associate starting the week of January 9. Please help us welcome them into the Holy Covenant Community.

Evening Worship Leader – Steve Thorngate
Steve grew up in an evangelical church, where he cut his musical teeth playing in praise bands. He studied classical music at Wheaton College and has since worked in several churches that have welcomed his passion for music that a) is stylistically eclectic and b) encourages everyone present to sing. Steve loves many kinds of music but has a particular interest in traditional country gospel.

By day Steve works in nonprofit journalism. He’s currently an editor at the Christian Century magazine; before this he interned at Sojourners and the Utne Reader and edited publications for a social policy advocacy organization. Steve is also the music director at Christ Lutheran in Albany Park, a job he’ll continue alongside his work at Holy Covenant.

He and his wife, Nadia Stefko, live in Hyde Park, where Nadia is a student at the University of Chicago Divinity School. They like to cook, preserve food, geek out about beer, play Scrabble, and lavish embarrassing amounts of attention on their cat.

Ministry Associate – Rev. Polly Toner
Polly has been a resident of Lakeview/Lincoln Park since 1997 where she currently lives with her Beagle, Bella. She has also lived in Idaho, Massachusetts, Southern California, and briefly in both Wisconsin and Salt Lake City. She completed her undergraduate work and Occupational Therapy school at the University of Southern California.

She attended Divinity School at the University of Chicago with some extra work at McCormick Theological Seminary, and is ordained in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Raised in the Roman Catholic tradition, Polly has been involved with Protestant churches since junior high when she persuaded her family to give the Presbyterian church in San Diego a try. Both Fourth Presbyterian and Lakeview Presbyterian churches in Chicago have been formative during her journey into ordained ministry.

Polly enjoys her work with older adults and youth in physical rehabilitation, mental health and school settings, and in faith communities. She continues to work at St. Joseph Hospital where she has been on staff for 15 years. She looks forward to getting to know the Holy Covenant community, learning and growing along side everyone, and participating in God’s work in the world here.

Those who look at her eclectic music collection, books or inbox may struggle to put her into a category. She is passionate about people, inclusion and health care; loves the outdoors, travel and dogs; and is happiest when she makes time to exercise regularly.

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“You are laughing at me, aren’t you,” my friend quipped.

I wasn’t actually. I was just smiling. But I could understand how he would view it as inappropriate. He had just shared his distress, concluded that nobody cared, and that nobody was listening.

“I’m not laughing,” I said. “I care, I am listening, and I don’t think any of this is particularly funny. I just find it interesting that you think of me as ‘nobody.’”

I had a body. I was present. I was there. I put my hands on his as we prayed. He could smell aroma of the onions that still lingered on my clothes from dinner. I watched his lips quiver with sadness and fear. I captured the sound of his voice with my ears. My brain processed the sounds, matched them to the language and context I knew, and the life I had experienced. It fired information back to my mouth and tongue to form a verbal response. It sent other information to small muscle groups in my face and hands to form a non-verbal response. I had a body. I was present. But I don’t think it was me that he considered “nobody.” He wanted God in-the-flesh.

I think this is why so many of the faiths that are practiced in the world have icons and/or idols. We need a deity who shares our space. We need a sensory experience of the divine; or at least an approximation of it. We need a God who is embodied.

When incarnation happens, God is no longer “nobody.” God becomes present.

Real.

Here.

This is the God we pray for. This is the God who arrives. This is the God who is coming again.

I hope you continue to be blessed in your waiting, friends!

Pastor Matthew

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Saturday will mark the completion of a circle for me. This time last year, I was still in the suburbs and well into promoting the “Waiting2010″ campaign on Twitter when a curious tweet popped up in my timeline. It was from our very own Matt Kuzma and it linked to a now-famous (locally, at least) Chicago Tribune article about the Alternative Giving Fair. I was enamored as I read it. I forwarded it on to a few of my staff colleagues, trusted laypersons and pastor friends, saying “We need to be doing something like this, too!”

At the beginning of this year, Matt connected me with Brit Holmberg so we could discuss how to replicate the AGF out in Geneva. We planned on a summer conversation, but the Spirit (and the Bishop) had other plans. Instead, with wonder and excitement, I get to formally invite and encourage you to come for the original this Saturdray from 10:30am to 3pm. And I hope you are as excited about it as I am! God’s hand at work is quite beautiful.

I have enjoyed hearing stories about how the AGF has been transforming people’s habits; about how people are thinking about the season differently; about how your friends and family love, cherish and long for more of the gifts that are hand-crafted at it. And now I am looking forward to making it a part of my family’s tradition and conversation.

I am thankful to be in a place that is home to innovative, missional people like Brit and his team, and one that will nurture that innovative spirit through prayer and support. I pray it will continue, and that the AGF is only a glimpse of the picture that God is using our community to share. And I pray it will continue because people are watching us looking for inspiration. In the season of gift-giving and sharing, that is an exciting thought: we have life and faith to share that sustains people miles from the corner of Diversey and Wilton. So, bring your friends and family as you can and talk it up to those you can’t. You may be surprised by what it yields.

Blessings and love,

Pastor Matthew

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If I said, “The darkness will definitely hide me; the light will become night around me,” even then the darkness isn’t too dark for you! Nighttime would shine bright as day, because darkness is the same as light to you! – Psalm 139:11-12 (CEB)

I was reading this psalm yesterday on my customary Brown Line ride home after dropping my daughter off at school. When I looked up from my phone and glanced out the window, I saw a woman with a personal shopping cart standing in the middle of the crosswalk. She was an immovable object. And she was facing traffic. Her face was obscured by a hood. She was motionless … it was as if she were a sculpture. The wind was gusting, swirling up plastic bags and leaves into a torrent, but there she stood. She didn’t seem to be be going anywhere. It was an oddly serene moment and it was definitely out of place. What possessed her to walk to the middle and stand there? Why had she made such strange claim on that piece of pavement; to not act as expected, but to just “be”?

Her claim on that pavement transformed it. It wasn’t a street or a crosswalk anymore. Instead, it was where she stood and lived. I find the same tension in this psalm. If God chooses to walk into the center of the darkness, it won’t be dark anymore. God doesn’t even see it as darkness. Everything is light to God. And if God would do such a thing, somebody is bound to notice. That is, if they’re looking out the window at the right time.*

I hope your waiting this Advent is as inspiring and eye-opening as it has been for me already, and I look forward to hearing about where you’ve seen God in your waiting.

Blessings,

Pastor Matthew

*Reflection originally posted on Pastor Matthew’s blog, The Unfiltered Wesleyan, where he will be blogging every day of Advent. Please be sure to read the Advent reflections of other Holy Covenant bloggers.

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For a while, I was part of the “Take Back Christmas!” crowd. Yes, I knew that it had pagan origins. And yes, I also knew that December 25 probably wasn’t actually Jesus’ birthday. But I desired so much for it to become a real holy-day kind of holiday that I fought against the culture. I realize now that fight is wasted energy. The Christmas I long for is not something that an entire nation will ever get behind. In fact, I don’t think it ever did. I’ve come to grips with the idea that Christmas in its evolved form (what I call ComsumermasTM) is here to stay. Our economy claims to run on it. Its lights, tunes and targeted advertisements make the kids happy. For adults, it is like a Las Vegas-style neon green yard glass full of cheer. I submit to its wonderfully whimsical and nonsensical virtues.

I have not, however, given up on Advent. At its core, Advent is the darkness of a morning just before dawn. It is hopeful. It anticipates. And Advent does this because it has seen the dawn before. It remembers the light. Advent does not lament in prophecies of doom, nor does it linger in sadness and pine for what once was. Advent says this may be the new day we’ve been waiting for; the greater day we’ve longed to live in. It may be God’s day; God’s future becoming the entirety of our reality. ComsumermasTM wants nothing to do with it. It isn’t threatened by it at all. Because at Advent we pray and wait for the seemingly impossible to happen: peace; reconciliation; equity; and rebuilding. These gifts are not things we can buy, nor are they things that an economy can produce. They are only what we can inherit. And we can only claim that inheritance by waiting.

This Advent, I invite us into a season of waiting. Naming the holiest of things and ideas, we wait upon God to bring them into our midst. And, while they may not come this Christmas, it is still possible they could come the day after. Or the day after that. Because the impossible has already been done in Jesus. We have seen the dawn before. And we cannot forget that light.

Blessed Advent, friends!

Pastor Matthew

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