Matthew 5: 14-16 “You are the light of the world.
A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket,
but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others,
so that they may see your good works
and give glory to your Father in heaven.
We once had a church organist who was technically very capable but had no church background. I asked him to play “This Little Light of Mine” one Sunday. Although easy enough to play by ear, I found printed music for him.
He balked. “This is unsingable,” he said. “The rhythms are too difficult.”
The pastor was by my side smiling as I responded.
“Every three-year-old who has been to Sunday School knows this song. Play it.”
Start today’s lesson by singing This Little Light of Mine together.
It is fun to sing. It is not just for children. Gospel singers like it, too.
It builds on a concept, straight from the Bible, that we often don’t think about today.
What is a bushel? How would you put a light under a bushel?
Having grown up in a house on a lot carved out of a cornfield, I knew from a young age that a bushel was a measure. My brothers and I gleaned corn from the field, shucked it, filled bushel baskets, and sold the corn to a granary—my first job!
Our bushel “baskets” were metal. I never really thought about putting a candle under one.
A bushel basket is about the size of a small wash basket. If you have one a bushel basket, use it. If you don’t, use a small wash basket.
You might use a small candle. A tea light would be perfect.
Keep in mind that the bushel in Jesus’ time was probably a woven basket. Because of the size and airiness of the bushel basket, covering it would not deprive the flame of enough oxygen to extinguish the light, but the light would not shine so brightly or so far.
The analogy is more about impediment. The song leaves the snuffing out to Satan.
Our lot is to keep the light shining as brightly as we can.
Today’s adult object lesson leads us to ponder how we create impediments that keep our lights from shining—and in doing so tempt Satan to finish the job.
Ask your adult learners what stops them from doing their best. How are they shading their lights?
And then sing the song!
This little light of mine.
I’m going to let it shine.
Hide it under a bushel, no!
I’m going to let it shine.
(At this point you could add some verses written by your adult learners. For example: Won’t let time get in my way. I’m going to let it shine.)
Don’t let Satan blow it out.
I’m going to let it shine.
All around the neighborhood
I’m going to let it shine.
Last night PBS’s American Experience aired a documentary on the Amish, focusing on the practice of shunning.
Shunning is the intentional culling of wayward members of a group. It isolates the wrong-doer, marks them within the community. It is a jail without bars.
Amish culture focuses on church as community and as community as the guiding influence in life.
My family has always lived close to the Amish. In fact, my ancestors arrived in Pennsylvania in the early 1700s at the same time as the Amish. They, too, were from Switzerland. They, too, were seeking religious freedom in the wide wake of the Reformation.
They made their way from the Swiss Alps to the sea and left the Netherlands on the same ship with Amish immigrants. They soon had second thoughts about spending weeks crossing the Atlantic with the people they saw as rigid. They disembarked when the ship stopped in England and waited for another passage.
Then they settled the same counties in William Penn’s colony—Lebanon, Lancaster, Dauphin and York.
The Pennsylvania Dutch come as “plain” or “fancy.” We were the “fancy”—although not very. Buttons were permitted, hex signs might grace a barn. and refrigerators and telephones seemed like a good idea. My grandfather spoke Pennsylvania Dutch although his voice was silenced before I ever heard it.
Pennsylvania is a fascinating place, religiously. Penn’s experiment lives to this day. Amish live next to Lutherans and Methodists. Methodists live among Quakers, Catholics. and Orthodox. The interwoven fabric of faith extends to include the Jewish and Muslims and in recent years Buddhists and Hindu. Jewish and Lutheran children attend Quaker schools. The local Chinese restaurant had a Christmas tree next to their Buddhist shrine.
Bill of Rights: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.
We believe that. The problem is that recently this has been interpreted by courts as being unable to uphold the laws that established religions have made for themselves and that creates a lawless mess among the faithful. It opens the door to religious bullying. Yes, the First Amendment protects religious bullies!
And so, this documentary on shunning is interesting.
Redeemer has been shunned—the Lutheran way— excluded from participation by decree. It’s not supposed to be possible under Lutheran law but . . .
We’ve lived in exile for five years. The purpose of all shunning (and bullying) is to isolate the victim. Isolation creates desperation. It strips the victims of influence and power. It gnaws at self-esteem and confidence. It devours energy and resources.
For those who can withstand the cruelty, it sets us free.
Shunning pits the power of the individual against that of community. Lutherans theoretically believe in the power of the individual. We call it interdependence. The strength of the individual makes the whole strong.
Sometimes an individual accepted within community (leaders) can use the power of community as a weapon. Isolation and shunning is a number one tool.
Individual thinking is a threat.
Having experienced Lutheran shunning, we know it is scary. Both Lutheran and Amish shunning exist to protect the past. The Amish are more forthright. They call it what it is and don’t pretend to be sugary and sweet about it. It is ugly business.
We bear the condescending looks of clergy.
We’ve been invited “to the table” by people who clearly are glad to see us leave.
We’ve been threatened with lawsuits (something the Amish don’t do to one another).
We’ve had story after story, lie after lie, told without anyone questioning the teller.
We’ve heard scripture taught but not applied.
We’ve been the topic of Lutheran derision for years.
We feel that we have a role to play in the denomination of our heritage. We move on with our ministry as we are declared non-existent by Lutheran know-it-alls. The “things” that were ours our stripped, divided, and sold as if we were dead. We are still alive, well, and watching.
It makes us think about the role of the gifts of an individual within community.
Must the talents bestowed by God upon the individual all be directed toward the preservation of social order?
If God makes you a chemical engineer, must you spend your life behind the plow?
If God gives you the gift of discernment, must you submit to the discernment of less gifted but more powerful? Lutherans didn’t use to believe in intellectual submission. Things seemed to have changed.
Most of the interviews in this documentary were with Amish who left the order. Each witness spoke through pain. They left without farewells. Shunning was invoked quickly. Return under any conditions but those of the community was made difficult if not impossible.
Families who sought reconciliation were forced to do so behind locked doors and dimmed lights—secret from the community.
This is the fascinating part of the Amish story.
Among the shunned Amish interviewees, there was no condemnation of the Amish way of life, just sorrow that they no longer fit in. They felt loss. They followed their individual “callings” despite hardship and communal condemnation.
They did not leave their heritage behind. They did what they had to in order to pursue their calling without extravagance.
One young woman took up nursing and started a fund to help other Amish pursue education. Several set up halfway houses to shelter and guide Amish runaways.
The power of the individual is extending the Amish community, whether the leaders approve or not.
There is always a temptation among the religious to look down upon the different. That’s a big part of religious tradition.
It’s also a major roadblock to moving ahead. Lutherans decided long ago—when they jumped ship in England in our family’s case—that they wanted to witness their faith within society. We want to rub shoulders with all God’s family.
Amish take shunning seriously. It is not widely discussed. It’s hard for everyone.
Shunning is so against Lutheran teaching that convoluted ways must be found to justify it. Myths arise to justify the ill treatment of loyal members who have erred only in daring to disagree with the status quo. Lutheran leaders don smug expressions and shun with a smile (or a sneer). It all hides this fact: When Lutherans practice shunning, we violate the tenets of our faith and polity.
Redeemer is still Lutheran. We didn’t leave the order. We are locked out.
The Bible is full of stories. Jesus understood the value of a good story more than anyone!
There is a resurgence in the interest of good story-telling. Marketers talk about it all the time, but it is rarely discussed in congregational circles and few congregations understand that good story-telling is also at the heart of evangelism.
Here is a link to a blog written by a rabbi known for his consulting with Jewish congregations. They are struggling with the same challenges as we Christians. We can learn from one another.
Rabbi Hayem Herring features a guest blogger well-versed in marketing.
We see congregations ill-equipped to share their stories. They may be great at re-telling the biblical stories. They may be spectacular at interpreting the biblical stories. But when it comes to telling their own story, they don’t know where to begin.
Problem 1:
Congregations rely on the pastor as storyteller and the pastor often does not know the congregation’s story nearly as well as the congregants.
Problem 2:
Parishioners rarely have the platform to tell their story. Some are natural networkers and could do a great job, but they have not been encouraged.
Problem 3:
Congregations confuse history with “their story.” They can point you to the website or a memorial booklet published at a key anniversary. These invariably recite key pastorates and building projects and organ renovations. These aren’t the type of stories that interest newcomers. The how and why of these stories — the stuff that interests people — are lost in the recitation of names and dates.
A congregation’s story isn’t all about the past. Your story is being written every day. You have an opportunity to tell it every time your congregation adopts a cause, reaches a new demographic, accepts a new member, sponsors a student, conducts a mission project or addresses a community concern.
Every congregation has a great story with a plot populated with colorful characters—some from the past, some still with us. Your members can tell you why their church is important. They can tell you what sets your congregation apart. They can tell you the congregation’s strengths and passion. They can see into the future.
But they are rarely asked.
Congregations need to hone the story-telling skills of leaders and members alike. We need to encourage our members to tell their story in any way that is comfortable for them. There should be little attempt to sensor or edit their stories. They must be genuine.
Allow your members to witness, write a blog post, speak before the next potluck dinner. Write letters to the editor of the local paper. Encourage them to tell their story on their personal social media pages.
Remember the past. Celebrate the current. Show the neighborhood that you are interested in the problems of the community. Talk about moving into the future.
People will notice. You’ll be seen as vibrant no matter how large or small you might be.
How Will the Church Cope in a World with No Boundaries?
Today’s Alban Weekly post points to a major challenge in the church. Rev. Adam Walker Cleaveland gives advice to pastors on how to manage their social media presence when they move from one parish to another.
What will pastors do with all their social media connections when they move from one parish to another?
Well, most of them aren’t very active online, but perhaps that will change.
You’d think the answer might be simple. They do what we all do when we move. Make new friends. Keep the old. Check in at Christmastime.
The few laity who happen across this article might be truly puzzled. They might be surprised to learn that pastors are actually taught to cut off relationships and ties to their past. Be hard-nosed about it. Do not make friends within your parish. Do not communicate with them when you leave. Make a clean break. That relationship you thought you had—it was all business.
Perhaps this is why church leaders so easily advise congregations to grieve and move on when they want to close churches. They have been taught an inhumane approach to ministry.
The practice comes from a day when pastoring was a family business. The spouse (wife) and children were part of parish culture and would follow the pastor (dad) wherever he went. The kids would change schools. The wife would clean and decorate the new parsonage and start attending women’s meetings.
The Church has always been asking for the impossible. The practice has caused more hardship—cruel hardship—than it will ever admit. But it is “the way” of the church—opposite in many ways to what the Church teaches.
But now it is a “way” that is no longer possible. The spouse works (husband or wife). The kids are going to stay connected whether or not the move disrupts their friendships. They didn’t attend those seminary classes that taught the church social order. They are not obligated to take orders.
The practice attempts to make life easier for the next pastor. That’s church culture. The pastor must be able to stand in the pulpit and look across a totally compliant and mindlessly happy congregation. When trouble breaks a congregant’s bubble, he or she must know who to call. No options.
Oh, and that trouble can never involve the pastor.
That’s the system. Like it or leave it.
A lot of people are leaving it!
The view is insulting to laity. We are not putty in pastoral hands, waiting for the next shepherd to dote upon our every need. There is trust and a regard, but not a total dependency.
This view fuels church conflict. When disagreements arise, the pastors must hang on to authority at every cost. It is the laity’s role to “give.”
Pastoral relationships often depend on dependency.
Dependency depends upon weakness.
And so the Church as an influence in our culture grows weaker.
Here in Southeast Pennsylvania in the ELCA, we’ve seen our entire denomination fostering dependence. We come from a tradition that honors the contributions of both laity and clergy as equals. That’s the theory anyway.
Reality: Congregations are expected to comply with synodical wishes. If they don’t, the laity are labeled. Disrespectful. Adversarial. Resistant. We need only question. We don’t even have to disagree!
This synodical view is bound to trickle down. If a bishop expects compliance, so too can a pastor.
All these decades or centuries of fostering dependent relationships are now rising up, gathering the force of a tsunami.
The tsunami called Social Media.
Pastor Cleaveland admits that Social Media is not a fad. It must be reckoned with. In typical pastoral thinking, he gives a “to do” list to keep things “under control.”
Odd. The power of Social Media to influence and expand the work of the church is enormous, and pastors focus on how it affects THEM.
Break your Social Media connections into lists that you can control.
Be sparing about your “likes.” Make sure there is a way for to disconnect from the people you were once eager to please. Find a gentle way to “unfriend” them. (The dangers of the “like” culture of social media are why we recommend blogging to Facebook, etc., by the way.)
Remember, this is for their own good. You are helping them grieve the loss of your influence in their lives.
Narcissistic? Just a little!
Really, pastors. It is quite simple to explain to your parish that you love them and will always love them. If there were problems, apologize. Mean it. Tell them that you will check into the church website from time to time. Let it go at that.
Don’t tell them that the reason you don’t “like” them anymore is because you are being paid to “like” someone else now.
All those needy people you are leaving behind will find others to love them and to love. It may be the new pastor. It may not! You won’t be able to control that.
Love is like that. You can’t corral it as much as the Church might try.
Join Bishop Ruby Kinisa as she visits small churches "under cover" to learn what people would never share if they knew they were talking to their bishop.
Undercover Bishop will always be available in PDF form on 2x2virtualchurch.com for FREE.
Print or Kindle copies are available on Amazon.com.
For bulk copies, please contact 2x2: creation@dca.net.
Contact Info
You can reach
Judy Gotwald,
the moderator of 2x2,
at
creation@dca.net
or 215 605 8774
Redeemer’s Prayer
We were all once strangers, the weakest, the outcasts, until someone came to our defense, included us, empowered us, reconciled us (1 Cor. 2; Eph. 2).
2×2 Sections
Where in the World is 2×2?
On Isaiah 30:15b
Be calm. Wait. Wait. Commit your cause to God. He will make it succeed. Look for Him a little at a time. Wait. Wait. But since this waiting seems long to the flesh and appears like death, the flesh always wavers. But keep faith. Patience will overcome wickedness.
—Martin Luther
This Little Light of Mine . . . 