At a recent meeting of folks from
all over the country, the vast majority of which were over age 50 and a good number
over 60, I noticed that many of us opened iPads as the meeting began. Great
lamentation, confused whimpers and desperate cries for help arose around the
room as the screens came to life:
"How do I save a
document?" "I know I downloaded the files, but I can't find
them!" "Why does the screen keep changing direction?" "Ach!
My notes just disappeared!" "How do I zoom in on that chart?"
"Where the heck do I find the wi-fi settings?" "For Pete's sake!
I should have brought my old laptop."
The masses among them had a strong craving; and the church folk also
wept again, and said, “If only we had our Etch A Sketch! We remember the fish
we used to draw so simply, the houses, the trains, the stick people; but now
our fingers are confused, and there is nothing at all but this iPad to look
at.” [Numbers11:4-6, paraphrased, of course]
Change is difficult. When we know
we need it, when we like things the way they are, when we thought we wanted it,
when we know we don't want it, when it (whatever "it" is) just
doesn't work anymore…in nearly every circumstance, change is difficult. This is
as true for congregations and synods as it is for individuals and families.
Change is difficult because we can
see that there is goodness in the way things are, or because life is
comfortable and familiar and walking into the fog of an uncertain future is
frightening, or adopting new habits can be exhausting and discouraging, or
because __________________________ (fill in the blank with your own murmuring
lament).
This sort
of lament can also arise from a sense of loss and grief. This is natural. It’s
appropriate, even necessary, as we learn to let go of what has been good and
helpful for us in the past in order to welcome what will be meaningful,
faithful and good now and into the future.
We need to create spaces in our
life together where we can share the struggle, the pain, the loss involved with
being reborn as a 21st Century church. Psalms, like Psalm 89, when
read, discussed and prayed together can help create the desperately needed
space among us where we can let loose our lament: “Lord, where is your
steadfast love of old?”
The good news is that right there,
in such gatherings, as with mourning Mary in the garden that first Easter
morning, the risen Jesus will meet us in our murmuring to comfort us with his
promising presence and lead us into new life [John 20:11-18].
O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see
the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to
go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is
leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. [Evangelical Lutheran Worship,
“Morning Prayer”]
Itsy bitsy disclaimer: The Etch A Sketch metaphor, in tandem with the iPad metaphor, is intended to be a way to engage imagination around what it means to be the people of God in our current context. I am aware of the unfortunate way in which "Etch A Sketch" was used briefly in media coverage of the presidential political campaign. I intend no political reference whatsoever by the use of this image in the context of this conversation. If the image itself proves less than useful, I trust that folks will use whatever images and metaphors are more helpful for them to continue to engage the very important conversation about how God's people can most faithfully, creatively and effectively participate in God's mission in the world today. In fact, please share those images and metaphors here!
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