How does one measure success?

Sometimes, it’s easy – High score wins! Low score wins! First to cross the line wins! Last one standing wins! Tab A into slot B = success! No parts left over = success! Starts up after overhaul= success! But there are many more experiences in life for which the assessment is much less clear than win/lose or success/fail.

Of course, the culture in which we live seems to provide some universal guidelines for measuring success, benchmarks we can use to assess our life’s achievements. In one’s career, salary and perks are easy measures, while authority (how many people report to us) and indispensability (how little can be done without our input) are also crucial to assessing one’s level of success. In relationship, the measurement run the gamut from who loves us, who is our friend, and how desirable are they? to are one’s children reflecting well on their parents?

In Spiritual matters, the culture seems ask but two questions: Are we happy, and if not, are we doing something about it?

In the film The Green Mile, there is an scene depicting an improperly prepared electrocution which is both arresting and gruesome. When asked by the warden what happened, Corrections Officer Paul Edgecomb, (played by Tom Hanks) responds, “An execution – a successful one.” The warden, incredulous, wonders how he could call the prolonged, graphic, painful episode a success. The answer is simple: “Edward Delacroix is dead.”

Success here is measured in its definition; what we’re after determines how we gauge whether or not we have achieved it. In the case of Edward Delacroix’s execution, success was defined, simply, as achieving the stated goal – the death of a condemned inmate. Of course, the warden’s questions demonstrate the truth, that there was much more at stake than the execution of a lawful sentence on a prisoner. We all know success is more than simply doing what one sets out to do – there is always another agenda, a fundamental truth by which we measure every thought, every action. The truth is, when it comes to defining that kind of success, the culture does a pretty poor job; objectives are set unattainably high, or using the wrong benchmarks; stated goals often have very little to do with truth, or real success.

Here in the church, success is measured by a very different standard. One way to describe it is to use one of those trusty visual aids from elementary set theory, the Venn diagram:

It all boils down to this: if we can figure out A.) our gifts and talents, and 2.) what God wants for the world, then we can measure how well we’re using our gifts to do God’s will. That is the fundamental truth, the basic agenda from which we operate – as individuals and as the church.

That is also the essence of what we Presbyterians call The Mission Study Process.  Because they begin with this fundamental premise, Mission studies can be crucial for figuring out what lies ahead for a particular congregation; not just who the next pastor will be, but also questions of property use and improvement, ministry opportunities and initiatives, and community cooperation – all with an unwavering focus on what God is calling us to do with what we have been given.

In the Mission Study process, we will be gathering data in a variety of ways to answer these basic questions:

Who are we as a congregation?

What gifts and talents do we have? What resources?

What is our community like? What opportunities for ministry can we identify?

What is God Calling us to do in this time and place?

How can a pastor help us use our gifts, talents and resources to fulfill that Call?

While the Session is entrusted with leadership of the congregation, and will appoint a Task Force to oversee this process, the fact is, each member of the congregation is essential for this mission study to be a success.

Look for more information about the Mission Study and how you can be a part of this important process here at Smyrna Church.

I’ve been thinking a lot about transition lately; moving will do that to you.

Of course, I am not only in the midst of what one might call domestic transition - I am also transitioning professionally, moving from the position of installed pastor to what we cutting-edge types in the church are now calling Transitional Ministry; after eleven years in one place, I am now an Interim Pastor, serving the Smyrna church for, as I told one young friend, more than a month, but less than forever.

It seems like transition is all over the place these days. The Committee on Ministry looks after churches in transition; indeed, the presbytery itself is searching for a Transitional Presbyter; and the PC(USA) continues to transition from what it was into, quite literally, Lord knows what.

Of course, I wouldn’t be The Preacher® if I didn’t use this as an excuse to do some etymological work. So, what is transition, anyway?

Merriam-Webster defines transition (noun) as the process or  period of changing from one state or condition to another.

In its plural form, Transitions™ is a brand of photo-chromic eyeglass lens – the kind that  go from clear inside to sunglassy outside.

In genetics, Transition is a point mutation that changes a purine nucleotide to another purine (A ↔ G) or a pyrimidine nucleotide to another pyrimidine (C ↔ T). Don’t ask me – I was an English Major.

In wrestling, Transition is the movement from one grappling hold or position to another, while in basketball, Transition is what one calls the change from defense to offense, or vice-versa.

Of all these, I particularly like the last two definitions, for a couple of reasons.

I can imagine the struggle of Jacob with God that dark night by the Jabbok river; the grunting, sweating, grabbing and twisting, each transition symbolic of Jacob’s experience: each clench, each escape and subsequent hold evoking his hard headed, hard fought approach to life, and the constant, unceasing change in store for his progeny.

Then again, I think about the importance of transition to winning basketball games. Each basket or possession change is like a little ending, as offense changes to defense; but it is also a new beginning, as defense now goes on the offensive. In those moments of transition, much can happen – baskets made, opponents worn down, momentum changed -  if a team recognizes the value of that transitional moment, and approaches it with specific goals in mind, and the plans to achieve them. Red Aurebach, legendary coach of the Boston Celtics, was perhaps the first to exploit this in-between time, advocating the fast break, in which the offense exploits that time of change to push the ball down the court and score.

As Interim Pastor for the Smyrna Presbyterian Church, it is my task to help the Session and congregation make the most of this ‘in between time,’ helping to identify, in the midst of change, the goals to which God is calling us,  the tools and resources he has provided, and the best way for us to use those resources in this time and place. May God bless us in this time of transition.

As I have considered the pastor’s annual report for 2012, I have been thinking not just about the past year, but the past eleven. A lot has happened since 2001, when I accepted God’s Call and came to Mossy Creek. The church has dealt with opportunities and obstacles; many old friends have joined the church triumphant; new friends have joined in our mission and ministry; and some have moved on, to other congregations or to a fallow time in their faith. We have dealt with a variety of significant issues – questions about the church property,  its preservation and expansion; issues surrounding worship; uncomfortable truths about financial oversight;  a rethinking of the meaning of witness and outreach. We continue to wrestle with concerns about theology, polity, and the future of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A).

At the manse, our children have grown, with ups and downs we could hardly have imagined; Ann has furthered her education, shepherded several congregations through the interim process, and found a position at Massanutten where her gifts and talents are truly valued. I am older now, and perhaps a bit wiser; I have gone through desert times, and times of refreshment; I have learned, and taught, and learned even more.

Over the years, many of you have dealt with both the best and worst of life; birth and death, marriage and divorce, illness and healing;  exciting new opportunities and difficult, painful transitions. You have celebrated; you have mourned; you have questioned; you have laughed and cried; and I have been your pastor.

Together, we have built relationships with our community. We have shouldered the responsibility of a good neighbor, organizing concrete ministries of concern for many who had fallen through the cracks of society; we have built, and repaired; we have chauffeured, and provided company; we have fed and clothed; provided warmth and understanding; we have mourned with the grieving, comforted the suffering and brought love into the lives of the lonely; and I have been your pastor.

In small but significant ways, we have begun to rebuild relationships with the Presbytery. We have reached out in service to the Central Valley Mission Community; we have welcomed Presbytery representatives, and utilized presbytery resources for education. We have opened lines of communication about financial and theological issues and sought engagement on difficult issues; and I have been your pastor.

I have been your pastor. I have preached the Gospel with integrity and organized worship in a thoughtful, theologically sound manner. I have taught every age group in the church, preparing and sharing thoughtful, accessible programs about biblical topics, church history, the essential tenets of our faith, books of interest to the thoughtful Christian, as well as numerous topics related to our faith journey and life experience. I have stood with the grieving and uncertain, reached out to the hurting, and celebrated with the joyful. I have served as a resource for both knowledge and wisdom, and have been available to all who have expressed a need. I have been accountable to the Session, for the work I have done; to the Presbytery, and to God. That is my Call, and I have sought to honor God as I live it out.

Of course, it is not just my Call; a pastoral Call is a relationship ordained by God between pastor and congregation, in which both parties have responsibilities and expectations. It is not just the pastor’s performance that is evaluated; it is not just the pastor who must meet expectations.

In thinking back over the last eleven years, I realize I have sometimes spoken thoughtlessly, or without considering the effect my words might have on those hearing. I have missed opportunities to reach out, to build relationships, to anticipate the needs of others. There have been times when personal issues and family problems have overshadowed my work.

Likewise, there have been times when conversations among yourselves have come back to hurt me; when complaints about incidental things have been given the same weight as the good work being done in our midst; when casual thoughtlessness has led me to question the importance of our relationship, and my value to the congregation; when confidentiality has been breached, affecting both Ann and me in our work with colleagues.

It is crucial for the Session and congregation to examine their own responsibilities in the pastoral relationship – responsibilities that go far beyond financial compensation. Such reflection should be an integral part of the annual review process; but beyond that, it should be an integral part of the relationship we build day by day, week by week, year by year.

As we look forward to 2013, I can say without hesitation that God has not yet called me away from Mossy Creek - although I am open to the possibility. Of course, such discernment is not for me alone; you, the congregation, must concur, along with the Presbytery, which stands ready to help us address concerns and discern where God is leading us.  In the end, we are like every church in every time and place: ministering in an imperfect world, with an imperfect pastor and imperfect members; and yet, God has brought us together for His purpose, and gifted us with Grace sufficient to our Call. It is my prayer that God would continue to guide and bless us, as we seek to do His will.

So, How was General Assembly?

So, How was General Assembly?

As it happens, the question is not an easy one. I loved being in Pittsburgh, reliving fond memories while marveling at the transformations. I appreciated the opportunity to speak to representatives of our agencies – the Board of Pensions, the General Assembly Mission Council (now called the Presbyterian Mission Agency), The Presbyterian Committee on Congregational Song, the folks responsible for the new hymnal, Glory To God - and others involved in mission and witness. I got to see some old colleagues and truly enjoyed the fellowship of our commissioners. I even enjoyed reading (some of) the committee reports, and listening to (some of) their presentations during our plenary sessions. On balance, I think the decisions reached were probably best for a church still seeking to live out the promise and pitfalls of the new form of government. But I was also disappointed.

Almost before the Assembly began, there were opportunities lost; for pastoral sensitivity, and transparency; for open minds and open hearts; for a willingness to trust in the theology behind our polity. Far too many debates were derailed by parliamentary procedures intended to short circuit the process of discernment; far too much was heard from the same few people on the farthest fringes of our denomination, while the vast majority of were held hostage to their take no prisoners attitude.

In the end, I think the things which unite (most) of us Presbyterians are:

A deep and abiding love of Jesus Christ, and for the world

A true appreciation for doing things decently and in order, and

An almost visceral reaction to the extremes

which seek to either purge or re-imagine our denomination

I saw this at work within the delegation from Shenandoah Presbytery. While no one would ever accuse us of agreeing on much of anything, we were able to pray together, look after one another, talk – and listen – about divisive issues, then vote without fuss and bother. In the end, I think it safe to say we found ourselves in one accord: when it came to the anger and frustration, the parliamentary wrangling, and dire predictions about the future we all wished those folks had come from a Presbytery where people treat each other better than that.

Like ours.

The Elephant in the Convention Center

It’s now time to address perhaps the most controversial issue before the 220^th General Assembly: the issue of same gender marriage. But first, a few obvious observations.

Context is profoundly important.

A conversation is a very different thing than a public speech, or a sermon. With a small group of friends (or even strangers), our style is more relaxed and we are able to make subtle points much more easily. Likewise, sermons preached to small congregations are much different than sermons to large groups; before a multitude, one must speak slowly and broadly, and certain subtleties are easily lost.

This is also true when it comes to the deliberations of councils within the church.

It is much easier to make subtle distinctions in the context of a Session meeting, where there is a built in reservoir of trust, and explanations are much easier to make and hear. At the general assembly level, there is no subtlety, and trust is often in short supply.

The Committee on Civil Union and Marriage Issues came to three important decisions in their deliberations. First of all, they recommended the rejection of so-called ‘relief of conscience’ overtures, designed to give Presbyterian ministers tacit permission to conduct same gender marriages in places where they are legal. Secondly, they recommended that presbyteries be directed to engage in a serious two-year study of the nature of Christian marriage; but in order to ensure that discussion would be undertaken with the diligence they believe is necessary, they made their third recommendation: that marriage be redefined in our Book of Order, from being a civil contract between a man and a woman to being between two persons.

Aimee Moiso, a teaching elder from San Jose Presbytery was the chair of the committee, and it was clear to me from her presentation that the committee’s intent in recommending this change to the Book of Order was to prompt a discussion – to provide for the largest possible forum in which the Holy Spirit might operate as the church seeks discernment about this issue. This would have been the functional equivalent of moving a proposal at a Session meeting, for the purpose of opening it up for discussion. But I’m afraid, in the cavernous expanse of Plenary, that subtle point was lost on many commissioners, and would almost certainly have been missed by most congregations, not to mention every media outlet in the country. As it turned out, the debate lasted for several hours before the assembly voted 338-308 against the committee proposal to change the constitution, agreeing instead to commend the two years study by itself.

This will be no easy task.

The culture around us is changing: more and more localities permit same gender marriage, while most churches do not. As evidenced by the tenor of debate at General Assembly, many Presbyterians have strong and deep convictions about the issue, and find the notion of dialogue and discernment almost nonsensical. Pastor to Pittsburgh Presbytery Sheldon Sorge has written, I believe our chances of exercising real spiritual discernment are much better when we’re seeking the Lord’s will not because we are arming for a vote, but simply because it’s what God calls us to do.


I pray he’s right.

It is Monday.

And I have entered and exited the fugue state that followed General Assembly to find you, my readers, are clamoring for an update.

Actually one person sent me a message on Facebook, 
but I’m running with it.

Many of the most critical decisions made by the 220^th General Assembly were decided by the thinnest of margins. What does that mean, you might ask? Well, obviously, it means Presbyterians are not of one mind about anything, except perhaps that a mushroom mousse popover makes a lousy entrée. What I do not think it means is the church is divided into two camps; there was a lot more going than any liberal/conservative dichotomy explains.

Of course, it is just my luck that the Assembly’s most significant actions were clustered in the surrealistic marathon of Thursday and Friday; as you may have heard, after a full day Thursday, Friday at the Assembly began at 8:30 a.m., broke for worship, lunch and dinner - all at the convention center - and did not adjourn until around 1:45 a.m. Saturday. I will do my best to summarize the discussions and decisions taken; my apologies if I miss something.

First up: Divestment.

The Middle East Peacemaking Issues Committee proposed the PC(USA) become the first U.S. mainline Protestant denomination to divest from companies doing business with the State of Israel. Specifically, they recommended phased divestment from three corporations: Caterpillar, whose heavy equipment is used by the Israeli military to destroy Palestinian homes and livelihoods in the Occupied Territories; Hewlett-Packard, which sells communications, logistics and planning hardware used in the ongoing Israeli naval blockade of the Gaza Strip; and Motorola Solutions, which sells surveillance equipment used to protect Israeli settlements in Palestinian territory.

For eight years, we were told, The Mission Responsibility Through Investment  Committee (MRTI) used proxy votes, shareholder resolutions, and calls for dialogue to persuade these companies to limit non-peaceful uses of their products by the Israeli government and military, but to no avail. The proposal, which had the backing of the General Assembly Mission Council (GAMC), would have meant the selling of more than $17 million worth of stock by the Presbyterian Board of Pensions and Foundation – a lot of money to be sure, but just a tiny fraction of the Presbyterian Portfolio, and only .018% of CaterpIllar, .014% of HP, and .003% of Motorola Solutions. In addition, this divestment would be phased, meaning the vast majority of stock in the companies would be retained until it could be sold without losing value.

Believe me, the lobbying was intense.

People came from all over the world to influence this decision – Presbyterians; Palestinian Christians; Jews both for and against Divestment. And they were doing a lot more than singing out front: they were at breakfasts and other meals, in the exhibition hall and even in Plenary, engaging commissioners with arguments on both sides of the issue.

After the Committee’s presentation, several commissioners presented a minority report from the Middle East Committee based on an overture that had actually been approved by the Committee. Instead of combining divestment from the corporations with a strategy of investment in the West Bank and Gaza; the minority report replaced divestment with ‘creative engagement’ and investment. After much, much, much debate, the assembly voted by a vote of 333-331 (with two abstentions) to make the minority report the main proposal. And then there were still more hours of debate.

The arguments as I understand them break down this way: 

Divestment would demonstrate the church’s moral oppo­si­tion to the Israeli occupation; it would focus attention on how these corporations make money from the violence and injustice of the occupation;  and would demonstrate sup­port for the Pales­tin­ian Chris­tians and oth­ers seek­ing peace with jus­rice. Investment is fine, but what Palestinians really need is freedom.


Divestment would do nothing to change Israel's actions, and would unfairly stigmatize corporations who are doing legal business with a trusted ally, and which employ hundreds, maybe thousands of Presbyterians. It would remove the PC(USA) from the discussion with these corporations, alienate ecumenical partners, especially in the Jewish community, and would give political cover to extremists who deny Israel's right to exist.


Divestment, as described by MRTI, doesn't really make a clear statement, since it occurs over time, and is accomplished in such a way that our investment income is not adversely effected. As such it seems to be a hollow symbolic gesture, which may make some people feel better, but will do little to make things better. 


In the end, three statements may well have reframed the entire argument. First, Teaching Elder Sue Krummel of Great River Presbytery (and candidate for moderator) pointed this out:'

as Presbyterians, we know about divestment 

– we call it ‘Withholding Per Capita,’ and we know it doesn't work. 

Then, Teaching Elder Susan Andrews, Moderator of the 215th  General Assembly, truly surprised me. A well know liberal in the denomination, Rev. Andrews stated her opposition to divestment, advising the church to remember both the current suffering of Palestinians and the centuries of Christian persecution of Jews.

Finally, and perhaps most tellingly, the Stated Clerk warned the Assembly

that the last shuttle buses would be leaving soon for the hotels.

In the end, the vote was 369-290 (eight abstentions) to adopt the minority report calling for investment and not divestment. To his credit, Teaching Elder Jack Baca of San Diego Presbytery, moderator of the Middle East Committee, told reporters while it might seem there division in the church on this matter, in fact the assembly was unified in its desire for peace, security of Israel and independence for Palestinians. The apparent division was simply a matter of the best strategy that the church can pursue to help attain those goals.

Next up: Same Gender Marriage.

You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family.

The next big issue from my Committee addressed the concept of Non-Geographic Presbyteries. 

Now, for those of you who need a bit of a refresher course in Presbyterian History (and who doesn’t need a little refreshment in weather like this?), almost as soon as the earliest Presbyterian congregations were formed in the American colonies, they organized themselves in geographical bodies: Presbyteries, and then Synods; General Assembly came a little later, as the most universal expression of American Presbyterianism. All the congregations in a locality were part of a Presbytery; all presbyteries in a region (later a state) were part of a Synod, and everybody was under the authority of the General Assembly, where each Presbytery had both voice and vote. It just made sense; in a world where both distances and hardships were greater, one coveted the support of neighboring congregations.

As the  nation grew, and immigrants began to stream in from the four corners of the world, Presbyterians recognized the difficulties of assimilation; as early as the 19^th century Hungarians were joined together in one presbytery – as safe place for the first generation to worship, and begin the process of becoming American Presbyterians. Such Presbyteries were based, not on geography, but on language, and culture, and ended up being a transitional step in their integration into the life and work of the Presbyterian Church. Of course, the unity of language and culture had a price; often congregations were located too far from one another to enjoy true fellowship. Immigrants still stream into the United States; language and culture differences still pose a barrier to fellowship and representation in the church. We still have non-geographic presbyteries, for the same reasons – and with the same shortcomings.

Of course, the world has changed.  Distance is no longer the barrier it once; through telephone, e-mail, text, Facebook®, Twitter® and Skype,® the question who is my neighbor? has taken on a global dimension. We can be present in many ways with people in every corner of the world; we make connections with sisters and brothers we may never meet face to face. 

The issue at hand was not whether or not the church should take advantage of technology and social media to expand or transform our ministry; the issue was whether to expand our understanding of connection in such a way as to replace proximity with interest; specifically to extend the use of non-geographic presbyteries beyond language and culture, to what was termed particular missional purposes. 

The Mid Council Commission was clear in its report that it did not consider the theological implications of allowing churches to align themselves in novel ways; as a matter of fact, they were enthusiastic about what they saw as an opportunity for experimentation – for imaginative new initiatives, for thinking outside the box, seeking to adjust rapidly to a rapidly changing world. But for me, at least two questions arose:

Where do one turn when a church burns,

or a hurricane blows it away, or a pastor is murdered,

or any of the myriad bad things that can happen in this world

happen to one's congregation?

And

What exactly IS a particular missional purpose?

I happen to think both are serious questions, but it was the second with which many wrestled, both in our committee and in Plenary; like so many other Presbyterian concepts, it was left open for interpretation. From what I gathered, a missional purpose could be a passion for service to the urban homeless; it could be the call to minister to the aging in the community; but it could also be a desire to do as we will, free from the interference of all those stubborn, pigheaded, sinful *insert label here* in my geographic presbytery.

Although a tempting notion, especially when things are tough

and one’s voice seem to be ignored or ridiculed,

in the end, it just isn’t Presbyterian.

In his remarks at the Pittsburgh Theological Seminary Luncheon, Dr. Edwin Chr. van Driel, assistant professor of theology, contrasted the church is his native Netherlands with the American church. He recounted the unique experience of arriving here and having to choose, for the first time, where he would worship. In the Netherlands, one’s membership is a geographic parish; when one moves, so does one’s membership – into the local parish to which you have moved. Without entering into a discussion of the merits such an ecclesiastical model, I was struck by this statement by Dr. van Driel:

The church is not a voluntary organization.

We may think it was we who decided which church was right for us; we who decided to become part of the family of God; we who decide to serve; but that is just not so. God called out of darkness into light; God forgave us and commissioned us to follow His Son; God made us into his family; and it is as a family that we must wrestle with even the most painful, divisive subjects, loving the stubborn, pigheaded, sinful people around us, because God loves them just as much as He loves the stubborn, pigheaded, sinful person that IS us.

A note about Friday: The Assembly began it's work at 8:30 a.m. Friday and concluded around 1:30 a.m. Saturday. It's going to to take some time to process all the actions, so look forward to another entry as soon as I am able.