One Foot in the ECO?

Many of us have been following with keen interest - and, in some cases, deep concern - the news of the formation of the Fellowship of Presbyterians, and especially the newer group calling itself the Evangelical Covenant Order, or ECO.  Periodically throughout our history, disgruntled Presbyterian conservatives have formed such breakaway denominations, but their history is not encouraging.  The new denominations have tended not to flourish in the long term, and they have often been subject to repeated splits.  Our history has demonstrated, over and over again, that the habit of schism, once indulged, is a difficult one to break.

Unlike earlier breakaway movements, the ECO, in its published statements, seems reluctant to use the “D” word - “denomination” - in describing itself.  It prefers the word "order," and in using it, has drawn parallels between itself and religious orders of the Roman Catholic Church like the Jesuits and the Franciscans. This is troubling, because the woolly language may mislead some congregational leaders into thinking they can vote to affiliate with the ECO without involving Monmouth Presbytery in the decision-making process.  ECO leaders may prefer to speak of “affinity groups” and “a new way of being the church in a post-denominational era,” but such vague language doesn’t alter the fact that the ECO is, in fact, a new Presbyterian denomination.

Despite its leaders’ hesitancy to use the “D” word, the ECO looks, walks and quacks like the proverbial duck - the “D” referring to “denomination,” of course, not “duck.”

This is not true of The Fellowship of Presbyterians.  Congregations who are so inclined may affiliate with The Fellowship without involving the Presbytery - although it would certainly be courteous to inform their Committee on Ministry liaisons of their intention to do so, and even to invite them to come speak to congregational leaders before a vote is taken.

The ECO, however, is a horse of a different color. While the “Polity” document of the ECO welcomes both congregations that wish to be "graciously dismissed" from the PC(USA) and become outright members, and those who wish to remain in the PC(USA) but have dual affiliation, the PC(USA) Form of Government has some very explicit provisions relating to the formation of “Union Congregations” - those that are affiliated with the PC(USA) and another denomination simultaneously.

Our Constitution does not permit congregations to simply vote to affiliate with the ECO – nor any other denomination – without first obtaining the permission and support of their PC(USA) presbytery for doing so.  This is true even of those who envision themselves maintaining dual affiliation: one foot in the PC(USA) and one foot outside it.

The PC(USA) Office of Constitutional Services in Louisville has recently issued Constitutional Musing #25, “Joint Congregational Witness,” on this very topic.  Ruling elders and teaching elders of any congregation who are considering establishing a relationship with the ECO would do well to read this document very, very carefully, and then to officially notify Monmouth Presbytery, in writing, that they are contemplating such a step, well in advance of any Session or Congregational votes on the subject.  A Session or Congregation who votes to affiliate with the ECO without bringing the Presbytery into the decision - even under the understanding that they will have “one foot in and one foot out”of the PC(USA) - is in violation of the Form of Government and could be subject to ecclesiastical discipline.  The Form of Government is clear that such Union Church relationships may only be established by explicit consent of the PC(USA) presbytery (G-5.05).

“But, aren’t we living in a post-denominational age?” some may counter.  “The ECO is simply ‘pursuing a new way of being the church.’  This is merely a ‘mission partnership’ we want to be involved in. We want to be nimble and flexible, ever open to the Holy Spirit’s leading. We mean no harm.  In fact, we mean to do a great deal of good, for the sake of the Lord!”

That may well be - and in that case, those interested in the ECO should easily be able to convince the Presbytery, through its Committee on Ministry, that their motives are pure, and that they wish to pursue their decision-making process with total transparency.

In John 12:36, our Lord encourages us to be “children of light.” Ephesians 5:8-13 says: “For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light.... everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light.”  If a decision to affiliate with the ECO - with both feet, or just with one - truly belongs to God’s light, then it can certainly withstand the light of scrutiny by the Presbytery at every step along the way.  The Presbytery is, after all, but a group of brothers and sisters in the Christian faith who are likewise striving to live in the light.

We never do agree on everything, in the church – haven’t, since the days of the Apostle Paul – but at least we in the Presbytery of Monmouth ought to be able to agree that, for the sake of our common relationship in the Lord, we owe one another clear communication and full transparency on anything and everything relating to the Fellowship of Presbyterians and the ECO.

Gutenberger or Googler?

Are you a Gutenberger, or a Googler?

In case you haven't heard those terms before, don't worry.  Neither had I, until I read them in a review of a new book by Len Sweet, who's on the faculty of Drew University Divinity School here in New Jersey. The book is called  Viral: How Social Networking is Poised to Ignite Revival.

I'm a Gutenberger, because I was born prior to 1973.  Quite a bit before 1973, if the truth be told.

That means I tend to think in terms of printed words on the page.  It's how the church - and society at large - has been communicating, ever since Johannes Gutenberg invented movable type for printing presses sometime around 1439.

My kids, though, are Googlers.  They've grown up with personal computers, and more recently with smartphones, which are really handheld computers.  Today's smartphones pack more computing capacity than the computer on board the lunar module Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon.

Back when I was in high school, a transistor radio with a single earbud was the cool tech item.  If you were lucky, it might even pull in the FM stations, but no stereo sound.

Today - for those who can afford it - it's the new Apple iPad.  We used to watch Mr. Spock on the original Star Trek using something like those, but never dreamed we'd see it in our time.

To us Gutenbergers, "text" means something solid, tangible, relatively unchangeable.  Like the Bible open on the pulpit.

To Googlers, "text" is a verb.

When I see teenagers staring into smartphones, with those little wires coming out of their ears, I realize they're doing more than simply processing data.  They're connected, wirelessly, to a web of similarly-connected individuals all around the world.  That's a change every bit as big as that brought in by Gutenberg's movable type, and it's happened in the blink of an eye.

If Len Sweet is right, the question of what technology we've grown up with is more than significant for the church, because it affects our entire way of looking at the world.  Those born after 1973 are digital natives.  They've never known anything different.  The rest of us are at best digital immigrants. Like the first-generation immigrants who came to this land from overseas, we're forever playing catch-up with our progeny.

Here are some of the distinctions he identifies between Gutenbergers and Googlers:

Gutenbergers: It's necessary to be right.

Googlers: It's necessary to be in relationship.

Gutenbergers: God is in charge.

Googlers: God chose to be among us.

Gutenbergers: Capital campaign.

Googlers: Homeless campaign

Gutenbergers: Statement of faith.

Googlers: Life of faith.

Gutenbergers: Build something.

Googlers: Meet someone.

Gutenbergers: A culture of words and individualism that has lost its ability to propagate.

Googlers: A culture of images and relationships that breed virality, the petri dish of revival.

Centuries ago, the Apostle Paul rode merchant ships crisscrossing the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas, made newly safe by the order imposed by the Caesars.  Christianity rode that new technology to an explosion of growth.  A millennium and a half later, Luther and Calvin made use of Gutenberg's press to get God's word - newly translated out of the original languages and Latin - into the hands of ordinary people.

Are we on the verge of a change just as epoch-making?  I think we are, and it's already begun.  It's also coming at us with breakneck speed.

If the church is to continue to be the church, we need to figure out how to be a church of both Gutenbergers and Googlers. All other issues we’re now struggling with – including the interminable debates about sexual ethics – are as nothing compared to this mega-issue.

We’d best get over those comparatively minor debates, and get on with it.

Help for Ecclesiastical Hoarders

Here's a question that just came up in our local church, so I thought it might be a good idea to pass the answer on to colleagues from other churches in the Presbytery.

Our Buildings & Grounds chairperson was up in the church attic a few days ago, and came across a number of old cardboard boxes filled with church financial records: check stubs, accounts-payable documentation, bank statements and the like.  The boxes all had years written on them, and some of them, he says, go back quite a while.

I knew immediately where these boxes came from.  Sometime in January or February of each year, our church treasurer fills a box with financial records from the previous year, writes the year on the outside in felt-tip marker, and asks that it be carried up into the attic.

"When is it safe to start throwing out some of this stuff?" our Buildings & Grounds chair wanted to know.  (He was starting to get worried about how much weight is accumulating up there on the rafters, not to mention fire safety.)

I guess it has been a long time since we went through that old stuff and got rid of some of it.  Fortunately, I was able to direct the person who asked about it to a place where a definitive answer can be found.

A Stated Clerk colleague from another presbytery reminded me of some helpful information from the Presbyterian Historical Society on the subject of records retention.  The PHS, located in center-city Philadelphia, is a wonderful resource not only for presbyteries, but also for each and every PC(USA) congregation.

Quick digression: Did you know the PHS will archive and store your church's historical records in a secure, climate-controlled environment in their large, professionally-managed underground storage facility?  Historical material of this sort that's been entrusted to the Society continues to be owned by the local church, and can be reclaimed anytime by the Clerk of Session or other authorized representative.

Records less than 50 years old are typically stored on a restricted-access basis (if someone shows up and asks to see the item, the PHS will first contact the local church to obtain permission). Beyond 50 years, they're fair game for historical researchers (but always under the guidance of the PHS staff, in their closed-stacks system).

It's strictly a holding-for-safekeeping sort of arrangement.  Not only that, but if a question comes along from a local church requiring research in its archived documents, a phone call to the PHS will send one of their professional archivists into the stacks to look up the answer.

How much does this service cost, you may ask?

Nothing.

Yes, you heard me right.  Nothing.  It's free to PC(USA) councils (what we used to call "governing bodies") - sessions, presbyteries and synods.

Well, it's not free, exactly - it does cost something, after all, to keep the archive staffed and open - but let's say the cost has already been paid.

It's been paid by per capita.

Yes, per capita!  The operating expenses of the PHS are provided by the General Assembly, out of the annual apportionment your church has been paying through Monmouth Presbytery.

Look at it this way: you've already been paying for the PHS' archival services, so why not take advantage of them?  It's an ideal arrangement for those old minutes books, registers and the like, that may be sitting in the back of a file drawer or storage-closet shelf (or maybe even in a cardboard box in the attic).

Now, back to our original question: those boxes of old financial records in the church attic.  Can we safely send those old bank statements from 1991 to be shredded?

According to the PHS, the answer is yes.  Their website includes a helpful guide to records retention, including specific recommendations for different types of records.  If you take a look at that guide, you'll see that bank statements can safely be disposed of after 7 years.  For deposit-slip receipts, it's just 3 years.  Old W2 records for church staff?  Keep 'em around for 7.  Better hang onto those annual audit reports and finalized financial ledgers, though: the PHS recommends that these be retained permanently.

For a fuller treatment of this subject, download the PHS' booklet, Managing and Preserving Official Records for Congregations.

There's a very popular TV show called Hoarders.  I've seen an episode or two.  The typical Hoarders show focuses on a person who just can't throw anything out.  These are pretty sad cases, typically rooted in severe psychological problems, and the TV show's team of experts seems well-equipped to address those.  Often, fear is at the root of it, as well as an inability to definitively answer the question, "But what if I need it someday?"

Well, when it comes to those old papers stored in your church's attic, there's no reason for hoarding.  The PHS' records-retention guide - not to mention their free archival services for the truly important stuff - gives you, as Clerk of Session, all the information you need to answer the "Can we throw this out now?" question.

Happy excavating!

A Thank-You for All of Us

Today I received this letter from the Rev. Gradye Parsons, Stated Clerk of the General Assembly:

Dear Carlos,

On behalf of the General Assembly I want to extend a special word of appreciation to the Presbytery of Monmouth for your faithful stewardship in 2011.  More than ever, maintaining the covenant connection that links together the Body of Christ is crucial for the faithful witness of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).  Your presbytery's full support of 2011 per capita apportionment is a tangible sign of commitment to that vision, and I am extraordinarily grateful.


As you well know, the per capita apportionment makes possible the General Assembly session through which Presbyterians seek to discern the mind of Christ for the church.  It also enables us to uphold our Constitution, to promote the unity of Christ's church, preserve our historical records through the Department of History, and to facilitate communication throughout the church.  We have sought to be good stewards of the resources that you have shared with the whole church and look forward to a continuing partnership in the Gospel with you in 2012.

Please share the deepest appreciation of all of us in the Office of the General Assembly for the faithful support of your presbytery and its particular churches for the per capita budget of the General Assembly.  May God continue to richly bless your ministry.

Yours in Christ,


Gradye Parsons
Stated Clerk of the General Assembly

*****

The letter is addressed to me, but of course it's really intended for every Monmouth Presbyterian.  Not all church members have made designated contributions towards the cost of per capita, nor has every Session been able to remit the full amount needed to cover the number of members under their care.  Yet, the Presbytery has stepped up to the plate and made good on the shortfall.

The Presbytery has done it out of a deep conviction that it's important, for all the reasons Gradye describes in his letter, and more.  Per capita is crucial to the health of our connectional system.

Those of us who are active in Presbytery leadership are grateful to all of you for the important part you play in this work.  Truly, it is a partnership.  Gradye's thank-you is indeed a message for all of us.

It's the Water, Not the Container

(Writing my annual Pastor's Report for our church's Annual Report booklet, I decided to do something a little different this year.  Because I'm describing challenges facing every congregation in these days of rapid change, this will have some interest for others beyond the Point Pleasant Presbyterian Church...)

There’s an old joke shared among those who know the Presbyterian Church well – although you can actually pull out our denomination’s name and drop in just about any other: “How many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb?”

“Did you say... CHANGE?!?!”

By and large, churches don’t handle change very well.  That’s because an important part of what we do in the church is preserving tradition.  Everyone knows that.  On any given Sunday, a significant portion of worshipers have chosen to come because they’re dismayed at developments they’ve seen in the world around them, and are wishing to hold fast to time-honored beliefs and values.

Who can quarrel with that?  I certainly wouldn’t.   

Sometimes, though, we confuse the packaging with the product.

Is it the tune of a familiar hymn that’s truly important, or the spiritual experience it calls to mind?  Is it the expectation that men will wear ties and jackets to worship, or is it their determination to approach God with respect and reverence?  Is it using the same sort of offering envelopes our parents used, or is it using whatever giving method is most consistent with the way we manage money today?

A thirsty traveler rescued from the desert will accept a drink of water just as readily from a tin cup as from a crystal goblet.  It’s the water that’s the thing, not the container that bears it.

It’s all about discerning the difference between the container and its contents.

During the past year, it’s become increasingly clear to me that an era of change will soon be upon us in this congregation.  We’re not unique in this.  Churches everywhere are learning not so much that change will one day come to their neighborhoods, but that it’s already arrived.

This calls for adaptations in our basic approach.  For years, churches have comforted themselves with the familiar line from the film, Field of Dreams: “If you build it, they will come.”  The assumption behind that bit of Hollywood-manufactured folk wisdom is that large numbers of people out there are peering in our windows, looking for a church to join, and if we simply work hard and “do church” better than others, they will choose us.

There’s only one problem with that way of thinking.  Fewer and fewer people today are looking for a church to join.  Period.  Like it our not, the style of spiritual seeking in our culture has shifted from communal to individual.  It’s all about a person’s individual quest for meaning.

If a seeker encounters congenial friends along the way, so much the better – but to most, it’s not essential.  If one church “has it all,” providing a one-stop spiritual shopping destination, that’s a fine thing.  But most people won’t see it that way.  To them, grazing from church to church, picking here and choosing there, likely fits the bill much better.  And that doesn’t even take into account the explosive growth of first television, and now the internet, as spiritual destinations – bypassing most traditional bricks-and-mortar churches altogether.

The younger generations we’ve traditionally counted on to come back to church to get married, then return a while later to have their children baptized, then eventually sign up for Sunday School, aren’t showing up in nearly the numbers they have in the past.  In part, that’s simply because there are fewer of them out there: the average age at marriage has risen precipitously in the past decade or two.  But it’s also influenced by the nearly universal reality of two-paycheck households, and by the fact that it’s rare for both parents in such a household to have the same day off, and for that day to be Sunday.

The 1950s stereotype of the nuclear family of working Dad, stay-at-home Mom, and 2 or 3 kids all coming to church together – in a world where not much else is happening on Sundays – simply doesn’t exist anymore.  It was becoming less true for my own generation, the Baby Boomers, as we were growing up – and it’s certainly no longer true for our children, who are not only fewer in number, but who (because of that deferred-marriage thing) just aren’t looking for their grandparents’ church.  Not now, anyway.  Not at this point in their lives.  And, very likely, not ever.

So, “If you build it, they will come” just doesn’t make much sense anymore.

What does make sense, then?

Something we’ve always known to be true, but that we’ve somehow, in all our program-building busyness,  managed to push to the back burner: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” It’s Jesus’ “Great Commission,” Matthew 28:19-20.

Notice Jesus doesn’t say, “If you build it, they will come.”  He says, “Go out into the world, and I will go with you.  Always.”

He doesn’t even tell us where we must end up.  He just says, “Go.”

Friends, if Point Pleasant Presbyterian is going to continue strong into the future, we’ve got to figure out how to go out into the world again – and not even the world as a whole.  Our local community would be a fine start.  It’s called mission, and it’s not what you may think.  It’s not a matter of contributing money so people can do the work for us.  The sort of mission we need to discover is something we can only do ourselves.

A great theologian once wrote, “The church exists for mission as a fire exists for burning.”  Please pray that the Holy Spirit will kindle such a fire among us anew.

What do you think?  Is this an accurate description of the spiritual landscape today?  What would you add, from your experience?

Please scroll down and post a comment.  I'd love to hear from you.

Well-Connected

We Presbyterians are well-connected.

Such is the testimony of Andrew Yeager-Buckley, who has recently accepted a position as Program Assistant in the Office of Mid-Council Relations at our denominational headquarters in Louisville.

Andrew, who is well-known to many in Monmouth Presbytery from the time over a decade ago when he was active in Presbytery youth programs, grew up in the Hope Presbyterian Church, Tinton Falls.  After traveling to the Presbyterian Youth Triennium as a teenager, he was elected co-moderator of the Presbyterian Youth Connection national organization.  Entering the working world some time later as a young adult, he was employed in the Youth Ministry area at the Louisville headquarters, then worked for the Presbyterian Publishing House, and will soon start in the Mid Council Relations Office, working closely with that office’s Director, the Rev. Jill Hudson.

In an e-mail to me, Andrew shared some special words of appreciation for Monmouth Presbytery, that, with his permission, I’d like to share:

“Monmouth Presbytery is a major part of my story. Its ministries and staff all played a part in my faith journey and the development of my sense of call. When asked I’m quick to say that my family, local church, camp and presbytery staff were all part of my spiritual development. As a small church member the presbytery helped connect me with some amazing opportunities. Beyond the programmatic opportunities I was always grateful for the various church professionals, active elders, and clergy like you that would take the time to say hi and check in with this 16 year old elder from Hope Church at meetings. In the moment having folks like Charles Cureton and Kim Long pulling me aside at presbytery meetings and wanting to check in didn’t mean a ton. Years later it’s clear that those moments are what truly have always made me feel welcome in the church wherever I am.”

We Presbyterians like to call ourselves a connectional church.  I’d be hard-pressed to find a better expression of connectionalism than this testimony Andrew has shared.  Think of it: a couple of ministers like Charles Cureton and Kim Long, who – to young Andrew – were strangers, who saw him give the traditional “I’m back from Triennium” report at a Presbytery meeting, and who not only remembered him, but came up to him some time later to “check in” on how he was doing.

It seems like so little – but, to a young man seeking to discern God’s direction for his life, those casual expressions of interest proved to be of vital importance.

God’s Spirit is at work all around us in the church – especially in our connections with one another.

Quorum – How Low Can You Go?

One of the decisions Sessions and Congregations need to make under the new Form of Government is what quorum to set for meetings.  Both Sessions and Congregations need to have a quorum for their meetings, and they now have the freedom to determine that number on their own, rather than having to follow a fixed formula specified in the Form of Government.

A quorum, of course, is the minimum number of members who must be in attendance in order for business to be conducted.  It can be expressed either as an actual number or as a percentage of eligible participants. The old Form of Government set the quorum of most Session meetings at one-third of its elders plus the pastor (but not fewer than two), and of congregational meetings at 10% of active members.

A fraction or percentage is preferable to an actual number, because it allows for changes in membership, especially situations in which there are temporary unfilled vacancies.  For example, if a Session of 12 members has set its quorum at 50% of current Session members, but has had 3 members recently resign, its maximum possible attendance would be 9.  That means its quorum is no longer 6 attendees, but 5.  (In calculating a quorum based on a percentage, you always round up to the next whole number.)

Quorum rules can be a real inconvenience.  If, for whatever reason, it’s a bad day for attendance and there’s urgent business to be conducted, a quorum problem prevents the Session or congregation from making any decisions at all.  The meeting can still be convened, and the smaller group can hear reports and discuss whatever they wish, but they can't pass any motions.

It’s usually the clerk’s responsibility to insure that there is a quorum, and to notify the moderator if there is not.  If, at any time, a member of the body thinks a sufficient number of people have departed the room that there is no longer a quorum, that person can make a motion known as a “quorum call,” asking the clerk to count heads and certify again that there is a quorum. If the number in attendance has dipped too low, no motions are in order from that time onward until enough members return.

If, however, no one makes a quorum call, and the clerk does not notice the deficiency and bring it to the moderator’s attention, business continues to be conducted.  If, for example, someone at a Session meeting realizes that when Joe slipped out a half-hour or so before to go pick his wife up from work, the Session no longer had a quorum, and four motions have been passed in the meantime, those motions are not voided as a result. Only motions proposed from the time of the quorum call onward are affected.

So, in deciding on a quorum rule, how low can you go?  The initial impulse may be to set the quorum as low as possible, so as to reduce the likelihood of parliamentary gridlock.  But, not so fast.  Before rushing ahead and setting an extremely low quorum, Sessions and congregations do well to consider the purpose behind quorum rules.

Quorum rules are more than parliamentary red tape.  They are an important constitutional protection that prevents a council from being taken over by a small faction.  Let’s say, for example, snow falls on the day of a congregation’s annual general meeting – not enough to cause the meeting to be postponed, but enough to severely impact attendance.  The congregation has 200 active members, but has previously adopted a quorum rule of 5%, which works out to 10 people.  Only a dozen people show up on the day of the meeting.  Seven of those in attendance, however, come from a single, extended family.  This group has become upset with the pastor and with the direction of the Session’s leadership.  Finding themselves in the majority, they nominate and elect their own slate of officers, sympathetic to their cause.  Not only that, they go on to pass a motion asking the Presbytery to dissolve the pastoral relationship.  When news of these decisions are announced, most church members are horrified, saying that, if they’d known what this group had planned, they would have pulled on their snow boots and gotten themselves to the meeting some way or other – but by then it’s too late.  The action has been accomplished.  The old congregational-meeting quorum rule of 10% would have prevented that disaster.

So, when pondering whether or not to adopt the old quorum rules of 10% for congregational meetings and one-third-plus-pastor for the Session, think of that old party dance, the Limbo.  “How low can you go?” calls the D.J.

“How low can you go?” the partygoers repeat, their excitement at a peak.

They're eagerly watching that lithe young man, the last survivor of the competition.  He looks so skilled, so smooth, as he contorts his body to get under the bar.  Until he falls flat on his posterior.

In parliamentary quorums, as in the Limbo, there's such a thing as too low.

Enough said.

Don’t let yourself get talked into adopting a quorum rule that’s too low.