"What Are You Looking For?"

In the past year or so, we have started using the term, "Faith Formation" at my congregation.  In the past, we talked about "Christian Education," or we talked about "Sunday School," or "Confirmation."  Or maybe, "Adult Study."  Words like that.  But now we have abruptly begun to use the words "Faith Formation," fairly regularly, and it's a fair bet that many in our congregation don't know exactly what we are talking about or why we changed the words we use.

To be fair, it is possible to use the words, "faith formation", and do everything the same way as you used to do it.  You can say that now you have faith formation, but you still do Sunday School, and Confirmation and adult study in exactly the same way as before, except that you have a different catch-phrase attached.  I hope that's not the case with us, but it is something to think about, and guard against.

For myself, though, I really like the term "faith formation."  It gives the impression (true, I think) that the process of forming our faith is eclectic:  faith is formed in worship, through prayer, in service, while we are sitting down at a Bible study, at the dinner table, through informal conversations and acts of love done by us and to us.  Faith is formed through times of doubt or struggle or failure as well.  "Faith formation" also hints at the outcome of study and learning at well:  not the simple intake of information, but who we are becoming as disciples of Jesus.

There's this great scene near the beginning of John's gospel.  John the Baptist is testifying about Jesus, telling people that he's the one they have been waiting for.  He is the Lamb of God, the Chosen One, the Son of God.

Two of John's disciples just up and start following Jesus.  I mean, literally.  They start following Jesus down the street.  Jesus turns around and asks them, "What are you looking for?"

It's such a great, and ordinary question.  It's the question that the assistant at the grocery store asks you, the clerk at the department store, the guy at the gas station, if you come in and you are looking bewildered.  "What are you looking for?"  It sounds like a marketing question.  The church has been asking people this question, too.  "What are you looking for?"  And people are often giving the answers you would suspect:  "I am looking for a contemporary worship service."  "I am looking for a good youth program."  "I am looking for fair-trade coffee at the fellowship hour."  "I am looking for a good Bible study."

Here's the thing, though:  when Jesus asks those two would-be disciples the question, they don't answer him.  They don't answer the question.  I think this was a moment of brilliance for the disciples (who are not known for often being brilliant, to tell the truth.)  They did not answer Jesus' question, "What are you looking for?"

To me, this simple silence is at the heart of the difference between faith formation and Christian education.  Christian Education is a menu of choices as we grow in our preferred direction of faith development.  In that scenario Jesus asks you the question, "What are you looking for?" and you tell him, and he designs a curriculum to fit your needs.

But in Faith Formation, when Jesus asks us the question, "What are you looking for?", there is silence.  There is silence, first of all, because we realize that we don't know what we're looking for, not exactly, except that it has something to do with light, and something to do with an ache in our heart.  We check our pockets to see if there are keys, or a quarter, or something that will help us remember who we are.  "What are you looking for?"  he asked us, and the best answer is silence.  And in the silence, we suddenly realize that it is we who should be asking him that question.  "What are you looking for, Rabbi?"

 In the silence, we put ourselves in his hands, we let him form us, we let him form us.  We feel the weight of a piece of bread in our hands, and we see a small shaft of light near his feet.

And we realize that we are the people he is looking for, and that he means to form us, to make us into Light, and Peace, and Bread.

In Defense of Coloring

An older member of our congregation revealed to me recently that a younger relative of hers (a young parent) had left our congregation long ago because of one thing:  Coloring.

Our Sunday School wasn't serious enough.  "All they did was color," she said, conjuring up for me visions of past Sunday Schools with lots of Bible verse memorization and gold stars for attendance. 

Now, I knew that this wasn't exactly true.  I knew that we had Lectionary based Bible lessons, which also included crafts, not just coloring.  (In fact, I had one mother tell me, long ago, that her young daughter wanted to become Lutheran "because of the crafts.")  But I was cut by the word of judgment, even though it was relayed to me at least ten years after the fact.

No one likes to think that they are falling down on the job of transmitting their faith to their children.  No one likes to think that they are coloring instead of helping children learn Bible stories, pray, and know, in an age- appropriate way, what they believe.  And our congregation does plenty of things besides Sunday School, including special Faith Milestones where chldren learn with their parents about Prayer, The Ten Commandments, Reading the Bible, and the Apostles Creed.

But it's challenging to find ways to share faith with the children.  Especially in this day and age when even on Sunday mornings it's hard to find time to gather regularly.  For one thing, there's hockey (yes, I live in the upper midwest).  Families are mobile and have obligations that interfere with regular Sunday School attendance.

And -- dare I say it? -- even if every child was at every Sunday School session every year, one hour a week is not enough time to share faith, especially if we consider friends, TV, school, and the myriad other things that children are experiencing.  Even if all we do is sit in chairs and memorize Bible verses and recite them for the whole hour, it's only an hour.

It seems to me that if we want to share our faith with the children, it's best if we are doing it all the time, not just for an hour on Sunday, but at mealtimes and in the car and whenever we have the chance.  It also seems to me that coloring is not the problem.  It's not so much how we teach the children, but how and what we teach adults that matters.

So, I think:  go ahead and color with the children.  Color with the children, but teach adults:  teach them to pray and to talk about their own faith, teach them to listen and pay attention to children's questions, teach them the vocabulary of faith:  grace and sacrifice, repentance and love, Jesus.  All the Time.

And then, let them color with the children.

Going to School

There are a few small children on our block. I see then down at the corner, waiting for the bus.  They are new students, so they all seem to have adults with them, and one even has a dog who waits with him for the bus to come. 

Just a couple of years ago, it seemed that there were no children on our block.  Our block was single people and empty nesters, a young couple without children.  Now my next-door neighbors have two pre-schoolers, and there is that small cadre of students waiting for the bus.

I watch one little boy ride his block down the street.  He is wearing a bike helmet.  He has a backpack.  I think he is six years old.  He appears earnest and independent as he weaves his way down our quiet block.  He is only riding for a block, but he is riding his bike.

Then I widen my perspective, and I see something else.  I see a young man, walking just a little behind the boy.  He walks behind the little boy, and if he gets too far behind, he sprints a little, to keep up.  There is an invisible thread, I think, connecting the boy and the man.  The little boy seems independent, going to school on his own.  But the father is not far behind, keeping his son in his sight, making sure no harm comes to him.  If his son falls, he will pick him up.  He will take the bike home with him after the bus comes.  And he will bring the bike back to the corner in the afternoon, so that his son can ride again, practicing independence.

This is the time of year for going to school, which means different things to different people.  Frankly, to some it means nothing at all.  September is just another month in an endless parade of months.  But to others this is the time of year for going to school, which means getting on our bikes and going just a little farther this year, or pushing our brains just a little farther.  It means stretching and getting tired and hitting the wall.  It means asking questions, some of which have no answers. 

This is the time of year for going to school, which is both exciting and painful.  In life, as in school, we learn things that amaze us and things that disappoint us.  

This is life, I think, going back to school, riding our bikes down the street, becoming more independent.  That's what I see. 

Then I change my perspective, and I see something else.  I see someone walking, or sprinting, behind us.  There is an invisible thread connecting us. 

You can look at life as a series of close-up shots, or you can widen your perpsective and see something more, the invisible thread that connects us, parents and children, teachers and students, friends and strangers.  We are not so independent as we seem.

On 9/11 we caught a glimpse of a horror.  We also saw the invisible thread.  We heard the voices of people calling one another, saying, over and over "I love you."  We saw people running into burning buildings to rescue people they didn't even know.  We saw people holding hands in the darkness. 

It was just at the time of going back to school.

I Skipped A Day

Someone tell me if it's ok to post twice in one day somewhere down the line to make up for it.

I'm trying to do this "blog a day" thing, but yesterday really got away from me. We had a morning-long session on racism for our local Ministerium. The worship preacher was this incredible African pastor. That was wonderful. The conversations we had afterwards, and the issues of race that came out were also painful, but necessary.

I was also growing this enormous migraine. So I went home, took medicine and went to bed for part of the afternoon.

I got up in time to get back to church and work on aspects of our upcoming Children's Sabbath. (Those in the know: I know this is later than it is supposed to be, but our October was filled up with Stewardship.)

African-American Pastor and I met with two members of the community council, seeking out places where we can work together for the common good. Very very preliminary meetings.

Then went in a long Leadership Board work meeting.

I was up some in the middle of the night, thinking: I hate when that happens. I was thinking about the possibilities and difficulties in being a disciple: how I want to equip people to be passionate disciples in the world; how can I get ahold of busy people long enough to give them the tools to be followers of Jesus in all their lives? Do the members of my parish consider me to be passionate about my own faith? Why or why not? Do I think we should have after-school tutoring at our congregation? (we are across from the middle school). Do I have time or ability to learn Spanish? (We have a lot of immigrants in our community.) What about my writing? I think in order to hold myself accountable, I need to find a writing group. I am up in the night thinking about these things.

This morning I had a backache and a headache again.

A Peek at my Week

Even though Monday was my day off, I made a appointment to visit with the principal of our local middle school late Monday afternoon. I brought a member of my congregation; we're doing research for a community forum this fall on "Closing the Achievement Gap." Our community has become much more economically, culturally and racially diverse in the last few years; we have Hispanic students, African American students, African students (some from Somalia); Asian students. The diversity has brought both strengths and challenges to our community.

We were very impressed by our middle school principal, an African American man who grew up in Tennessee and came to our area as a teenager. I noticed the "Negro League" baseball jersey he was wearing right away, and complimented him on it. He is committed to fighting institutional racism in education as well as educating families to take responsibility for their education (there's that both/and that I am so fond of.) He has a passion for education, and for helping at-risk kids. Like us, he believes "all kids are our kids".

Yesterday I spent the morning in a staff meeting; the whole staff then helped our children's ministry coordinator clean up after Vacation Bible School. Later on I took some study materials and went to our local bookstore/coffee shop to study and get a little ahead on my sermons for July 6th and 13th. I also bought a large-print Bible. And in the evening I met with a couple to be married in August.

This afternoon I visited a shut-in that I have known for four years, ever since she and her husband moved back here from Arizona. Her husband died last December. She is legally blind, but has received one of those reading machines, so she had requested that I pick up a Bible for her, so that she could participate more fully in a Bible study she has been attending.

She was so excited when she saw the Bible. She just raved and raved about it, and also about the wonderful Bible study she has been attending. She is so excited that she will be able to read the Bible more often now. I wish I could bottle her excitement and pour it over many more people. What is it that has made her not only love the Word, but also love to read and study it?

Our church recently took the Natural Church Development inventory. The good news was: our highest category was Empowering Leadership. We also had pretty high marks in Inspiring Worship. The bad news was: our lowest category was Passionate Spirituality. In the mind of the inventory-writers, passionate spirituality includes regular time for prayer and Bible study. So, right now I'm thinking: how do we create more people like my widow, who could hardly wait to receive her Bible today?

Achievement gap picture from here.