Saturday in the Fourth Week of Lent

Before I left on my trip to Florida, I finished reading one of the two "Lenten Books" I had chosen to be my companions during the season.

Divine Nobodies: Shedding Religion to Find God (and the unlikely people who help you), is Jim Palmer's story of following Jesus...even when that path has led out of the four walls of the organized church and into the daily challenges of work and relationships and through the difficult work of coming to terms with one's own past. I found Jim's candor, humor and sincerity of heart engaging and thought-provoking. Given all that he has been through, I find it remarkable that he writes with such warmth and grace.

Jim has seen the difficulties that are present in the way we "do church" in this country (regardless of theological persuasion). His critique is without rancor...he simply wonders, as do I, if "church" with its focus on "bringing people in" has forgotten that the primary call of the Gospel of Jesus is to "send people out". In his book he witnesses to the witnesses -- the under-the-radar-disciples who minister through their daily work -- from his usual waitress at the Waffle House to the guy who owns a local auto repair shop to the former rock guitarist who runs a retreat house for burned-out clergy.

You can read Jim's blog at: http://www.divinenobodies.com/blog/

So, my lenten reading took a detour...I'm now about 1/2 of the way through Jim's second book, Wide Open Spaces: Beyond Paint by Number Christianity...again, I am captivated by his ability to ask the difficult questions concerning organized religion and still remain such a devoted follower of the Way of Jesus.

Around the Episcopal Church, we talk a good bit about the idea that "the church is the people"...but we seem to invest the bulk of our resources of time, human energy and money into the machinery of preserving the status quo -- buildings, programs and staffing. I recognize the hypocrisy of the preceding statement. As a "paid religious professional", I understand that I embody, to some degree, the status quo.

This past Thursday, I had two distinct experiences that relate to this particular ramble:

In the morning, I attended a committee meeting for the diocese in which I serve. We opened the meeting in prayer and then spent the next few hours wrangling over policies and procedures. I couldn't help notice a feeling of deja vu -- the meeting was a continuation of plenty of other meetings I have attended in the past 17 years as an Episcopalian.

I understand that policies and procedures are important. I understand that there are issues of management and fiduciary responsibility. But by the time I had to leave the first meeting (still in progress), I wondered if one person would be brought to a deeper understanding of the Faith and how to live in the joy of that Faith as a result of what we had been doing. We seem to spend so much time managing old things we never can quite get around to beginning new things. I continue to pray that we don't confuse our attempts at managing the organizational life of the church with the actual proclamation of the Gospel.

In the afternoon, I attended a meeting of a local professional association to hear a presentation entitled: "Transforming Today's Challenges into Tomorrow's Solutions". There were about 60 people present. I was a guest in the room (sans collar), but I noticed immediately the energy as friends greeted each other, asked each other about family situations, offered suggestions on business related issues (websites, virtual offices, book publishing, prospecting, product development, etc.). I was interested that, in some sense, the people in this association were competitors, and yet they were openly sharing the ideas that had worked for them in procuring more clients.

At our several breaks, people came up to me and introduced themselves to me...a decided difference from many of my experiences at Episcopal Church "coffee hours". They inquired about what I did for a living. To a person (I had about 10 of these encounters), these folks expressed a curiosity about why a priest would be interested in their topic.

I did my best to explain that the challenges addressed by the presenter were universal to most organizations (including the Episcopal Church). One person said, "Every clergy person I've met is sincere and dedicated, but they are so out of touch with what their parishioners are going through out here in the real world, it's depressing to even try to listen to one of their sermons." I wonder if that comment was the truth I was sent to the meeting to learn.

I can't overstate the stark difference in the energy of the two meetings. The second was punctuated by much laughter, a few people brought the group up to date on various personal struggles and several members expressed appreciation for the ways in which they had benefited personally and professionally through their association with this organization. And there was even an offering! (The proceeds of the collection went into the organization's scholarship fund to assist students in their college studies.)

We gathered around tables for dinner and the "members" intentionally sat with the "strangers". The lively conversation continued. The meeting started when the agenda said it would start and ended when the agenda said it would end. While this wasn't a "religious" gathering, I wondered if I hadn't experienced more of what church could be in the second meeting than in the first.

Maybe I've been reading Jim Palmer too closely!