Upgrade Your Church Website: More than a Brochure
Most church websites are mostly brochures. They give visitors the basic info needed to learn about the church (generally), as well as how to find the church, who is on staff, the ministries offered, and when services are held. All those things are terrific, and needed. But if your church only offers these things, it is missing out on a lot.
Think of the audiences your church needs to reach. There are members and guests. Members want to know different sorts of things. They want to download the latest youth permission form (because Sallie lost the one passed out on Wednesday night). They want to know what’s on the menu for midweek service. They need to know if it’s their week to usher, or teach or visit. Members also want to know who is ill, or celebrating an anniversary, or just had a baby.
The problem is, many of the things members need raise privacy issues. I may be in the hospital for a procedure, and want prayer, but I likely don’t want that information shared wide-open on the Internet. Members enjoy seeing photos of their children from camp or VBS, or a special event, but may be (wisely) cautious about them being publicly accessible on the Internet.
One solution to the different needs of guests and members is to have a private or members-only area on your church website. Using their login, members can access prayer lists, photos from recent events, and other information, without creating major privacy issues. For the guest, the information they needs is still easily accessible.
(Shameless plug: FaithLab can help your church create an up-to-date site that helps meet the needs of multiple audiences. Contact David at the FaithLab to get help with your church’s website.)
Churches Need Terrific Photography
Photo by FaithLab
The church is a big family, with traditions, big events, milestones and accomplishments. Families take lots of photos across time — they want to capture memories and stories of their journey through life.
Photos tell stories. They say, “we were here,” “we did this,” “we did this together,” and “this is our family.” We need these visuals to both remember and celebrate who we are and how we came to this place.
Some photos are better than no photos. But quality really does matter. Getting well done photography allows your church to not only tell your story, but to tell it with high values. If something is worth doing… it’s worth doing well.
Over time, we’ll explore ways to strengthen your church’s photography ministry. For now, here are a few tips to get us started:
Gather Your Team
Your church likely has several members who already love photography and have good skills. You may even have a professional or two in the congregation. Others may want to learn photography (including teenagers). Whatever the case, gather your team and recognize them.
Plan Ahead
Keep an eye on the church calendar and make plans to have photographers present at fellowships, special services, service projects, etc. Being intentional about having people taking photos means you will always get shots to use and save.
Photo by FaithLab
Grow Skills
Photographers like to grow their skills. Even persons new to photography are eager to learn how to do better. Plan some training opportunities that help grow and sharpen the skills of your photographers.
Use Good Equipment
Good news… cameras are better than ever, and prices drop all the time. Many compact cameras can take terrific photos, and are easy to have handy. DSLRs are also growing in power and ease of use. But remember, the photographer’s eye is much more important than the equipment. Click here to discover a great site for finding camera advice.
Share with Flair
Photos are meant to be shared. These days, there are lots of ways to share them. Post them on bulletin boards (and remember, you can get large prints inexpensively nowadays), post them on your church website, use them in your newsletters and promotional materials. Gather them together for slideshows. Here’s a photo site that reveals photos of a recent youth service project.
Archive Well
I still have my family’s photo album, handed down across two generations. It is filled with prints of weddings, graduations, fishing trips, growing children and holidays. It’s so easy to take digital photos that we may be tempted to not give adequate attention to saving them. However, they are well worth preserving. The smartest way to save them is to use multiple storage approaches. For example, on CDs, on an online service (such as Flickr or SmugMug), and on an external hard drive for easy access.
We will explore each of these areas more fully in future posts. Until then… happy shooting!
Behind the Scenes
Do you ever wonder where your meeting agendas come from? Or who disposes of the trash in your waste can? Who changes the lightbulbs or folds the sharp-looking brochure? We tend of think of ministry as happening in the open, by folks we can identify and point to. But what about all the work that happens behind the curtain?
When I was in college, I spent many late nights in the newspaper office. At least once a week, I was in the office alone putting together the online edition of the paper. During those long nights, I’d often be visited by the security guard as he made his evening rounds. Larry wanted to make sure all was as it should be. I began to look forward to these visits and the conversations I’d have with Larry. Turns out, as he walked the campus, turning off lights and locking doors, he would pray for those who would be using the space the next day. Since he worked the late night shift, he didn’t get to know many students, but he thought about them and cared deeply for them. Securing classrooms and education buildings and science labs provided him an opportunity to do ministry.
My senior year of college, I received a phone call at the newspaper office, letting the publication know that Larry had a heart attack and died. I was the only one in the office who had any idea who he was. Most students felt bad that the school had faced a loss, but were unfazed by the passing of a man they didn’t know. A man who thought about them daily as he went about his work.
Perhaps it is because I spent yesterday putting together packets for a meeting I will not attend, but I’ve been thinking about the ministry behind-the-scenes. Emptying trash does not have to be a spiritual experience, but it can be. Larry was a minister. Those who knew him remembered him for that. He didn’t need a job title or seminary degree to make it so. He just needed to care.
Who are the covert ministers in your life? The folks who remain in the shadows, but add to who you are?
Read more from Jennifer at her blog.
Katrina Recollections: Rachelle Crain
Photo by Rachelle CrainEditor’s note: Since Fall 2009 Bert Montgomery, a native of New Orleans and the River Parishes, has been collecting stories from his childhood friends, classmates, neighbors and church family about their experiences during after Hurricane Katrina. FaithLab is working with Bert to produce a book (both traditional print and e-book formats) and an interactive website to honor his friends and their experiences. FaithLab is posting excerpts leading up to the book’s publication.
Rachelle and I were members of the Colonial Regiment together. The Colonial Regiment was the name of the marching band/dance team/color guard at John Curtis Christian School in River Ridge. Rachelle was on the dance team, and she was a great “anti-pop” music comrade. In early 1983, a young Irish band – on its first-ever tour of America – came to play at a club on a riverboat in New Orleans. Rachelle and another friend told me about this young band; they introduced me to the band’s music; and, ever since then, I’ve been a big fan of U2. She was a funny and intelligent friend with great musical tastes (when everyone else around us was convinced that Styx was the greatest thing ever since, well, the Bee Gees). Even today, I can’t read about, talk about, or listen to U2 without remembering Rachelle Crain.
Rachelle grew up in Old Metairie and lived in the River Parishes region for twenty-seven years. She has now lived outside of Louisiana for fifteen years; she resides in Grapevine, Texas, which is where she was living when Katrina came around.
Tell me about the week leading up to Hurricane Katrina.
In the week leading up to Katrina, I watched the news constantly. I can’t remember exactly what the news was saying, only that we all kept a keen eye on what was happening in the Gulf. All of my family still lived in New Orleans – my parents in old Metairie (in the same house that I grew up in); one of my sisters lived in Kenner; and my niece in River Ridge (about a couple of blocks from John Curtis School).
What were your initial thoughts?
I never believed the hurricane would hit my beloved city, because I never thought anything bad could happen to such a wonderful place.
What happened when the evacuations became mandatory?
Well, my parents – for the first time in their lives – actually evacuated for a hurricane. They evacuated to Tylertown, Mississippi. That’s where my dad grew up. He still has relatives that live on the farm and the land of his parents. So, I was glad that they got out; but my sister and niece decided to stay and ride out the storm. My niece actually stayed at my parents’ house in old Metairie, while my sister stayed at her house in Kenner.
I was astonished by all of the people that were leaving the city. I was glad most left, but could understand why some stayed behind. Most of all, I was saddened for the people that wanted to leave but had no means to – they were forced to experience something most of us couldn’t even imagine in our worst nightmares.
I didn’t house any evacuees, but the thought did cross my mind. I was a single parent at that time, with a small child and a lower-salary income, and I thought it best not to invite stranger(s) into our home. Friends and family that I knew all went to stay with other members of their family. I couldn’t get in touch with anyone else to invite them to my house.
What was it like watching the news reports?
I don’t think I slept for three days … just constantly watching the news. At the time, I was working for a family that was originally from New Orleans. I went to high school and was on dance team with the owner of the company. So when Katrina hit, we all were watching the news and the online reporting of the storm. For that whole week after Katrina hit, we didn’t get a lick of work done. Thank goodness I was working for someone that had a connection with this disaster, because I don’t think any other employer would have been so generous and understanding for my lack in my employment duties and responsibilities in the days that followed the storm.
Were you able to maintain close contact with family/friends?
My niece stayed behind in my parents’ house, and when Katrina was inland, I would call her and hear over the phone the loud rumbling and wind. It was insanely intense to hear that through the phone. She had to scream into the phone so I could hear her. Even to this day, I cannot imagine the decibels the storm created.
I never lost contact with my family. The only time there was a lull was when phone batteries ran out and they had to find electricity to recharge.
After the storm was over, I could talk to my niece – remember, she was staying in my parents’ house. No water was in the house until the levees broke; it was only then that water started coming in. The storm didn’t cause the flooding, the weak levees did. Once the levees broke, water started rising, and my niece had to retreat to the second story of the house. My niece’s boyfriend’s mother worked at the time for the Mayor of Kenner. She sent a rescue boat to pick up my niece and her boyfriend from the house. There was two feet of water inside of the house, but when my niece stepped outside and down the front porch steps, she was up to her neck in water. She said she had never been so scared in her life. They had to walk about six blocks to higher ground for their rescue. Shortly after they left my parents house, many neighbors squattered at my parents’ house on the second floor, along with their pets. I don’t know how many days they were there, but they eventually crawled through my parents’ window onto the roof and were rescued via boat.
Once my niece and my sister were reunited, they hopped in a car and headed to Tylertown, where my parents were. I don’t think they were any better off because Tylertown was hit by the storm, and even though there was no flooding there, the power was out and there was lack of supplies. They had to bare the southern Mississippi heat of early September with little food and water. I tried my hardest to get them to come to Texas, but my father thought they’d be better off in Mississippi.
My parents were literally some of the first people back in the city when the roads and barricades were open. They quickly gutted and rebuilt their home, and by the time all of their neighbors were coming back into town, their house was completely renovated. My sister’s house in Kenner and my niece’s house in River Ridge were not damaged at all by the storm. In fact, my sister’s house never lost electricity.
Side note, pt. 1: Reportedly, nine bodies were found in my parents’ neighborhood. Whether the bodies were of residents in that community, or if they floated down Airline Highway when the levees broke, I can’t say.
Side note, pt. 2: My mother’s brother and his son were on the roof of their house for three days before being rescued. He lived in Chalmette, close to Lower Ninth Ward.
Side note, pt. 3: My parent’s have rental property in the Lower Ninth Ward/Holy Cross District. The house’s inside watermark was one inch from the ceiling. The house sits on the Industrial Canal. The levee is right outside the front door. I played on that levee when I was a child, and still to this day I climb it and watch the barges float by. It was my mother’s brother’s house before he passed away many years ago, and my parents have been renting it out since. The tenants that occupied the house evacuated to Texas and they have not come back. The house has now been completely restored and occupied by new tenants.
Did Katrina change anything for you – as someone who no longer lives in the region?
Katrina changed a lot for me. All of my family ended up going back and rebuilding; I’m not sure I would have had it any other way. Even though I have now lived in Texas for 15 years, New Orleans is my HOME. It always will be! So, if my family had moved away after the storm, we all would have lost some of our identity. I travel back there several times a year, and I find myself doing the “tourist” things along with some of the old rituals of an authentic New Orleanian life. I appreciate it more. I definitely don’t take it for granted. I encourage people to travel there and spend time breathing it in rather than staying intoxicated the whole time. Katrina did bring out some good aspects … the city is being rebuilt by people who ‘want’ to be there, rather than ‘have to’ be there.
The Leap of Faith / Living by Faith?
The other day I met a young woman whose entire life was built around her identity as an urban minister, and whose entire life was in shambles. She was burned out from her work and, in the aftermath of a failed romance, suddenly aware that most of her other relationships were unhealthy as well. The more we talked about her path and the key decisions she had made along the way, the more evident it became that something was deeply wrong.
At first I thought it might be some combination of the usual suspects: religious legalism, a broken home, an addiction of some kind, clinical depression, or a history of abuse. But as our conversation wore on, and each of those possibilities was ruled out, I began to suspect a different kind of wrongness.
Eventually, I asked. This may sound strange, I began, given what you do for a living, but I want you to think very carefully before you respond: At the core of your being, do you really believe that the personal God you’ve been serving even exists?
She looked up from the patch of floor between her feet, maybe to make sure she had heard me right or maybe to see if it was a trick question. In any case, she held my eye as she shook her head. No, she said quietly, I don’t think I do. After a moment of silence, she asked a question of her own: That’s pretty sad, isn’t it?
It was all I could do to keep the grin off my face as I answered her. Actually, I said, that’s the most hopeful thing you’ve said all day.
I wasn’t out to undermine that young woman, of course. The reason I was happy was that the root problem of her faith—of her whole life, really—was one I knew we could work around. You see, two days out of three I don’t believe in a personal God either.
I used to think my lack of credulity had mostly to do with living in this ghetto, but over the years I’ve discovered that you don’t need to be surrounded by ignorance and brokenness to begin wondering about the likelihood of a benevolent, all-knowing, all-powerful creator. You don’t need to be a bad person, either, or a stupid one for that matter. In fact, many of the best and brightest people I know find it difficult, if not impossible, to believe that Someone is actually listening to their prayers.
Honestly, I think whichever psalmist wrote “Only a fool says in his heart that there is no God” must have been an arrogant fool himself, unless he was simply fronting like the rest of us. Or, better yet, unless he was misquoted. Perhaps what he really said is that only a fool hopes in his heart that there is no God. In that case, you and I may be doubters, but we are no fools.
Regardless, it seems to me that what we hope for is ultimately more important than what we believe, anyway, partly because our hopes better reflect our true selves, and partly because those hopes so often determine what we believe in the end. That is good news for those of us who often doubt the existence of a good and loving God. Why, after all, would we even notice those doubts, let alone lament or defend them, if we weren’t so deeply attracted to their object in the first place?
Certainly my young woman friend (let’s call her Marian) is attracted to the possibility of such a God. Indeed, as she puts it, she is “absolutely desperate” to remain a believer. Beyond her understandable fears of losing her job, alienating her family and friends, and perhaps going to hell if it turns out she’s wrong, Marian is desperate because she is virtually addicted to the everyday experience of living by faith. She’s hooked on the comforting routines of discipleship, on the easy camaraderie of spiritual fellowship, on the purpose and identity she draws from openly following Jesus. Also, on a more existential level, she’s terrified of being alone and adrift in an uncaring Universe, with no meaning but that which she can fashion for herself. Really, she needs the assurance she’s on a divine mission like a junkie needs a fix. I can relate, of course. I’m a faith addict, too.
It isn’t just that, like Marian, I’m already so deeply invested in the idea of God. It’s that the idea itself is so utterly fabulous. Whether or not you believe in a good and loving God who can and will redeem everything and everyone in the end, you have to admit that a God like that beats the pants off all the alternative possibilities, including all those lesser Gods whose so-called grace depends on everything from theological orthodoxy to luck of the draw. Which is all the idea of God needs to do, as far as I am concerned: Beat the pants off all the other possibilities.
Now I know there are folks who claim they can empirically prove not only the existence of God, but also quite a few particularities about his character and expectations, but I don’t know anyone who takes those folks very seriously. Even my fundamentalist friends will admit that such things are matters of faith. What they won’t admit, generally speaking, is why exactly they put their faith in the existence of this or that particular God. Then again, born as most of us are into overwhelming currents of familial and cultural rituals and assumptions, I doubt they had much choice. That kind of directional leap of faith is the unique burden—and the unique opportunity—of the true non-believer.
When I say “directional leap of faith,” by the way, I don’t mean choosing what you actually believe. Nobody gets to do that, unfortunately, just like nobody gets to choose who they are attracted to, or what they are afraid of, or if they like strawberry ice cream. Faith is a feeling, after all, and, like it or not, you don’t get to choose your feelings. All you get to choose is how you respond to them—what you say, where you place yourself, who you watch and listen to, when you start or stop trying to do the right thing. What you do get to choose, in other words, is how you live.
Until proven otherwise, I choose to live as though what I (and Marian, and maybe you) desperately hope to be true actually is just that. I can’t prove anything, but I reckon that if there was a good and loving God, that God would want me to love people—especially poor or broken people—so that’s what I’m trying to do. I figure that God wouldn’t want me to hurt myself with drugs or alcohol, so I don’t. I wish pornography and junk food were equally easy for me to refuse, but at least I am disappointed with myself when I succumb to their false promises, because I feel certain that the God I hope for would be disappointed, too.
Here at last is my point: I believe that living by faith—even on those days you don’t believe in God—is the best life possible, for Marian, for me, for you, or for anyone. You might call this my version of Pascal’s Wager, except that Pascal’s argument for taking the leap was centered on his fear of eternal damnation, and mine has nothing to do with that. My best argument for choosing to live by faith is the happiness and meaning that choice gives me right here and now. A good and loving God in the process of utterly redeeming every soul in the universe may not be the most obvious of existential possibilities, but it is certainly the most beautiful of the bunch, and even more certainly the only one I deem worthy of my devotion.
And here is my good news: The more I live by faith, the more strongly I suspect that my faith is not in vain, even here in Walnut Hills. I pray that happens for you, too, wherever you are.
Your friend,
Bart
For those of you who ask, you can indeed donate online (thewalnuthillsfellowship.org) to support our little fellowship, which is conveniently registered as a 501c3 non-profit organization. Will we be stunned, and happy, and disproportionately grateful? Absolutely!
Motivating People
Whether you are part of a business that is seeking to make a profit or working with volunteers, motivating the people with whom you work is a difficult leadership challenge. We like to think that everyone is self-motivated, seeking to be and do their best in every situation, but that is rarely the case.
Two of the more accepted theories of motivation in Leadership, sometimes called “Theory X” and “Theory Y,” differ in their explanation of this, with the former assuming that people are basically lazy and need to be driven to do things and the latter assuming that people want to do well but lack opportunities and affirmation, but those are rather simple assumptions. They are good starting places, mind, but I think there’s a lot more to motivating people than assuming that they’re simply either lazy or tragically misunderstood.
Depending on your perspective on people, there are a lot of different things that can be said about motivation, but I’m going to bypass strategies based in fear, uncertainty, and doubt, and focus on a few of the better positive ones here. Here are my three favorite motivational tools, in what I believe is the order of their importance.
Provide Meaning.
Nothing that you can do with the people you lead is more effective than this. When people believe that they are a part of something larger; that they’re making an important contribution; that there is a plan in the works that includes them; and that they are valued as a part of a team that is working toward a common goal; they work a lot harder. People will sometimes make outrageous sacrifices when they truly believe in something, and if you really want to be effective as a leader you need to both provide that something and some solid evidence that the people you lead are an integral part of that vision. Churches and non-profits literally live off this principle, since they are all about altruistic visions, but every for-profit organization is working for a reason as well, and if they can share that reason in a meaningful way they can inspire people o work together to reach it. Of course, it has to be something more than “we exist to help our owners make as much money as possible,” but every business that deserves to exist and profit does so because it meets a perceived consumer need, and the people who work there should be in touch with both that need and their own importance in that broader scheme of things. By making such things a sort of “insider” information that is only shared with “management,” many businesses miss out on a critical opportunity.
Provide Time.
If you are ever in a position to negotiate for money or other perks at a job, ask for as much time off as you can possibly imagine. You won’t get it, but you might be surprised at how much better your requests for other forms of compensation might be received. For-profits place an enormous value on your time and their ability to control what you’re doing, and given the choice, they’d frequently rather give up money than time. Workers know this, too, so they are often more impressed with getting time off than with getting more money. What many people fail to realize, however, is that, for many employers, it is not the worker’s time that they covet, so much as the control that they can exercise over the workers through controlling their time. If you’re paying someone for their time, you want to feel that that time is being spent the way you want it to be spent. Unfortunately, that mindset is predicated in the idea that employees cannot be trusted, and such assumptions often prove to be self-fulfilling prophecies. If you get the impression that you’re not trusted, what motivation have you actually got to be trustworthy? A better, but less intuitive, way to work with time is to allow latitude on how time is used while working. This is often a principle applied to managers, and it’s no coincidence that so many of them, though not strictly required to, end up working a lot more hours than people whose hours are rigidly controlled. Yes, they get to BE managers through demonstrating an increased level of dedication, but that too can be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Even when you’re not working for money, time is a precious commodity. Volunteer organizations are often motivated by a variety of non-monetary needs, and “fellowship” and “attention” are two of the stronger ones. For people with such motivation, providing time to be together in ways that are not directly related to “getting work done,” (in other words, play time) can be extremely effective. People might also want some of your time or time to be in a place that is “special” to them in some way, or time spent with people whose lives they feel they are positively affecting. Providing such times, assuming that you can respect appropriate boundaries while doing so, can be extremely motivating and, in effect, will keep people coming back, even when they have no other reason for doing so.
Provide Compensation.
It’s no surprise that people often expect some sort of reward for doing the things you want them to do, but no one with whom you want to work works merely for money. The best people also work out of a sense of ethics, professionalism, pride in accomplishment, a love for responding to challenges, and other reasons. Because of that, attempting to “manage” by making promises or threats around money is very rarely a workable strategy. As they say, “That kind of thing will only make you work just hard enough to not get fired.” On the other hand, money is a way by which less creative people keep score, and if you’re in a situation where you can think of nothing else to offer, or dealing with someone who can’t think of anything more they want from their work, it is better than nothing. It’s also a way through which outsiders can place some sort of objective value on someone’s work. if you’re in a situation where you have a public role, such as a minister, director of a non-profit, or a teacher, it gives the public a way to feel that they have recognized your contribution, or to understand the value of your work. But if you are a leader of such people, and they’re worth anything, you know that the finances are really a small part of what makes them tick. The best employees need the money you provide in order to be able to express themselves through what they do, but still keep the lights on at home.
As for volunteers, they believe in something or they feel that they need something in their lives. That’s largely why they volunteer. You keep them motivated by identifying that belief or need and making sure that their behavior in seeking to fill their needs is regularly rewarded. If you and your organization are effective, their needs are reasonable, and the mood stays upbeat, it will be. A negative, defeatist culture that shows poor results is very scant compensation for most volunteers.
There is a lot more to say about motivating employees than I can cover here, but this is a bit of a start. If you really want to look closely at this subject, I suggest that you start by asking yourself what most motivates you and expanding from there. If you can understand yourself on this point, maybe you can start talking with others and seeing what best works with them. If you’re going to lead, it’s really worth doing.
Through the Water
I’ve recently begun watching the TV show Psych – and by “recently begun,” I mean that my husband and I have watched about a season and a half in the last month. If you are unfamiliar with this wonderful work of art, the show is based around Shawn Spencer – the son of a retired police officer who was trained by dear old dad to continue in the family business. Dad teaches him to be observant and to be able to piece together small details to learn something about a situation. The adult Shawn has no interest in being a cop, but begins calling the police hotline and solving crimes based on the brief reports in the evening news. As it turns out, Shawn is too successful, and the police become suspicious, assuming the only way he could know so much about the crimes is if he helped mastermind them. So in order to avoid being arrested, Shawn lies to the cops and says he is psychic. Shawn ends up starting his own psychic detective agency and begins officially assisting the police with their cases.
I bring this up because Shawn often finds himself examining cases that are assumed to be open-and-shut. He looks at what seems obvious and sees something out of the ordinary that leads to the truth.
The day Jesus is baptized seems like a run-of-the-mill day in the Savior’s life. Jesus asks John to baptize him; the Spirit of God descends and announces “this is my Son. I’m proud of him.” Jesus is doing something spiritual, and God wows the crowd. Case closed. Roll the credits.
But maybe we need to rewind just a little. In the first 12 verses of Matthew, chapter 3, we are introduced to John the Baptist. He’s kinda a strange dude – wears camel’s hair, eats locusts. It’s easy to picture him as a character from the Flintstones, carrying a large club. He sticks out – even back in the first century. But there’s apparently something believeable about him, because people follow him – not just to see what he does next and post funny videos on YouTube – but because they believe that this strangely-dressed man with the unpleasant diet brings a message from God.
The writer of Matthew tells us that the people of Jerusalem and ALL Judea and the entire region along the Jordan were going out to him to be baptized. Matthew is exaggerating to let us know that there is a LARGE crowd hanging out by the river. And lots of them are getting baptized and confessing their sins. John even tells us that is his purpose – “I baptize you with water for repentance.” People come, confess their sins and are baptized to show their repentance.
Then John alerts us that there is another to come, one who is so great that John isn’t even worthy to carry his sandals. And what do you know, there he is! Jesus shows up, as if on cue, and asks John to baptize him. But wait. Didn’t John just tell us that his baptism is for repentance of sins? And isn’t Jesus sinless? That’s what we believe, right? Jesus never sinned. And John baptized as a sign of repentance. If you are confused, you are in good company – the writer of Matthew tells us John didn’t get it, either. He argues with Jesus, saying “I can’t do this! You should baptize me.” Matthew wants to make it clear that he knows that John has nothing to offer Jesus. But do you notice we really don’t get an answer? Jesus simply responds – go ahead, this is the way it is supposed to happen.
It’s kinda unsatisfying, isn’t it? Those in the early church certainly thought so. They came up with another document called the Gospel of the Hebrews. This book describes a scene at Jesus’s house. Mary and Jesus’s brothers want to go be baptized by John. Jesus responds “In what way have I sinned that I should go and be baptized by him? Unless perhaps, what I have just said is a sin of ignorance.” That quote alone probably shows why the Gospel of the Hebews did not make it into our Bible, but it also shows us that the early Christians were searching for answers. So they decide that maybe Jesus was baptized to please his mother. After all, honoring one’s parents is a good biblical command. And the truth is, we really aren’t any closer to an answer. David May, my New Testament professor at Central Seminary, is a fantastic guy. He is a scholar, but more than that, he is a man of faith. However, he had a mischievous smirk on his face when he asked the class I was in “why was Jesus baptized?” And like any good, mischievous professor, he never gave us an answer, but left us to ponder.
Beyond that question is another — what happened while Jesus was baptized? This past year, I was the deacon assigned to assist women on the morning of their baptism. It was my job to find robes that were the right size, pin weights to the bottom so that the robe would not float, have towels ready to help the women dry off and simply to be there as they waited. I found that the largest part of that job was helping people with their nerves. Women and girls who had no fear of water and no fear of crowds became incredibly nervous before being baptized. Having experienced the same nervousness at my own baptism, I can say that it seems silly. The person being baptized doesn’t have to do any of the work. In my tradition, they are dunked and the whole thing is over. But saying that nervousness is silly does not make the jitters go away. I can pretty much guarantee if I’d told any of those women that as they were coming up from the water, the sky was going to open and a dove would land on them the whole thing would have been cancelled. They would not have gone through with it.
This may be another of those spots to examine, because when we read this, don’t we picture the clouds parting, revealing a bright blue sky – a nice picturesque scene with a dove flying down? It’s a really nice image, but it isn’t what the text describes. Matthew says the heavens were opened – a watered-down version of what Mark describes in his telling. Mark says that the heavens were torn apart – think sci-fi movie image. This was huge – especially when we remember that the science of the first century was not nearly as advanced as ours. If you remember back to your science classes, the belief at the time was that the world was flat. God was believed to be in the heavens which were located above the earth – hence the problem with the Tower of Babel being built to reach the heavens. God is “up there.” It is where references to “The Man Upstairs” come from. The prophet Isaiah prayed to God in chapters 63-64 asking God to “look down from heaven and see…” and continued “o that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence – as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil – to make your name known to your adversaries, so that nations might tremble at your presence!”
Remember those large crowds present at the Jordan River? They are good, Jewish people. They were familiar with Isaiah. They knew what the ripping open of the heavens meant – God was loose. That doesn’t quite carry the same weight today, because we talk of God being present everywhere; but you’ll remember that in the Old Testament, God’s presence was carried in the Ark of the Covenant. When the temple was built, the Holy of Holies was where God resided. If you remember back to the Exodus story, when the people received the Ten Commandments, the people asked Moses to go talk to God and report back with what God said because they were afraid and trembling. “Do not let God speak to us,” they said, “Or we will die.”
While Isaiah prayed for God to come down, the understanding was that if that would actually happen, it would be the end of the world. God speaks, everyone dies. So we can imagine what everyone was thinking when the voice came down from heaven. Is anyone wanting to be baptized now?
Do you wonder how the gospel writer could just move on from that? The next verse is “Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.” Perhaps by that point, the crowds thought they had seen it all – and yet this baptism was just the beginning of Jesus’s ministry.
This isn’t what we expect, is it? Beginning with a seemingly needless baptism, tucked into a rather terrifying appearance of God. But isn’t that just it? Can we find any part of Jesus’s story that happens as predicted? The most important child ever born (my apologies to all the mothers here!) is birthed in a barn. His first visitors are shepherds. The church season we are in now is epiphany – which celebrates the coming of the magi – gentiles are the first to recognize the King of the Jews. The people of the day expected the Messiah to be a political leader who would get rid of the Romans and become a king, like David. But instead, Jesus is put to death by those he was supposed to overcome. When he died, it was expected that he would stay that way – even those closest to him were shocked when he rose from the grave. Perhaps today’s text is a reminder that we can’t control God. God is loose in the world. We don’t get to decide where God will go or what God will do – and isn’t that scary?
Jesus’s baptism is the start of something new – and everyone present that day knew it. We know it as the beginning of Jesus’s ministry, the starting point of the God who is with and among us – who is loose in the world. We celebrate our own baptism as the beginning of a new life following the Christ. I’m going to close today by playing a song by singer/songwriter Kyle Matthews called “Been Through the Water.” As you listen, I hope you’ll begin to ponder the meaning of your own baptism – not just the church doctrine, but what the experience has truly meant in your life.
Read more from Jennifer at her blog.
Getting Along
I’ve been reading (re-reading in some cases) books by my favorite author, Stephen King. My latest re-read is Different Seasons, which includes the story/novella “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption.” Shawshank, for those who may not know, is a prison. One of punishments handed out at Shawshank for inmates who can’t get along with others is solitary confinement. Andy, who was sentenced to life for the murder of his wife and her lover—a crime Andy argues that he did not commit—did his share of solitary confinement. Red, another long-termer, speaking about Andy’s handling of solitary said, “But I don’t think solitary was the hardship for Andy that it was for some men. He got along with himself” (p. 25). He got along with himself.
Is that the cause behind so much that is wrong in our society? Are we becoming a society of individuals who don’t get along with ourselves? I know it can be argued, as I have done, that our problem is that we are a society in love with ourselves. Who cares about the rest of you! But, is all this self-love really love; or is it a major effort to cover up our dislike of ourselves, our inability to get along with ourselves?
Are not Face Book, Twitter, Myspace, smart phones, coded texting, etc. signs of just how self-centered we’ve become and how poorly we manage to understand and communicate with each other and how thoroughly self-absorbed we’ve become? Ah, but aren’t these social network tools? Yes, and they can foster social interaction; but look at the postings. Many of them reveal the egocentric nature of the poster: a parent blasts the school system, a student tears into a teacher, John checks in at . . . , Susie and Ralph are bored, and others play games with “friends” they don’t know while avoiding the friends they do. Why? Maybe because deep down inside, each individual is not getting along with him/herself.
Then there is the violence: addicts who keep on addicting to the detriment of themselves and others; parents who physically abuse their children; children who abuse their elderly parents; irate drivers in the throes of road rage; and folks like the armed man in Arizona who opened fire at a political gathering, killing six and injuring many others. What’s behind the violence? Could it be the inability to get along with one’s self?
Is there a cure for all this craziness . . . this lashing out at others when the person I’m really out of sorts with is me? There is . . . and, yes, I am smart enough to know that the way to the answer is not simple in many cases; but the answer may well be simpler than we want to admit. As individuals, we desperately need to know and understand ourselves. We need to get along with ourselves. How is it possible?
Maybe the first step is to remind myself that God loves me, that I matter to God, that I am the subject of God’s love. If I dare to understand and believe that God loves me, might I just discover the means to like/love myself and then to get along? Were I to get along with myself, might I discover the secret to getting along with others?
To get along with others, I need to get along with myself. To get along with myself, I may need to spend some time alone in the closet of myself. As a reader of Stephen King, I know that bad things, including Cujo, lurk inside closets; but as a follower of Jesus, I know he can keep the monsters at bay. Until I’m willing to face the monster inside, I may never see that many of the “monsters” outside are merely projections of my own fears.
Want to get along? Get acquainted with yourself.
Of Jesus, the Chattahoochee, and Taxi Driver (or, There’s Dung in the Baptismal Waters)
Jesus was dipped by John in the Chattahoochee. That’s how Clarence Jordan’s Cotton Patch Gospels share the story of Jesus’ baptism.
I wish I knew Alan Jackson; I would’ve asked him to come over to church and read Scripture. Imagine – Alan Jackson, who sings about the Chattahoochee, reading in his wonderful southern Georgia drawl the southern-country-telling of Jesus’ baptism in the Chattahoochee! But I don’t know Alan Jackson, so ….
So on a whim I emailed a friend of mine who also grew up along the Chattahoochee and has a great Georgian southern drawl, and she readily agreed to read our Scripture story – all the way from her home in Oregon. And, with a word of greeting to us, and with the word of God for us, author Karen Spears Zacharias shared with my congregation via video the Cotton Patch version of Jesus’ baptism (click here to watch).
I spent a good part of the week preparing for my sermon by reflecting on the baptism scene from O Brother, Where Art Thou? – Delmar jumps into the river along with a robed congregation, cuts in line, and at the preacher’s hand has all his sins washed away (including that Piggly Wiggly he knocked over in Yazoo). “Come on in, boys, the water is fine!”
What a great scene of hope and redemption and good ol’ old time religion in the rural American south …
That is until the news during the day Saturday distracted me from O Brother, Where Art Thou? and made me think instead of Robert DeNiro as Travis Bickle; Taxi Driver is not conducive to meditating on Jesus and baptism.
But maybe it should be.
How can we talk about the baptism of Jesus amidst the reality of the hatred, fear, violence, and assassinations and attempted assassinations that erupted Saturday in Arizona?
We have such beautiful and glorious painted images of Jesus being baptized …
the pure white light shining down from heaven like an upside down triangle with the point setting with the dove on Jesus’ head … Such a reverent and majestic moment in time.
But this did not happen in some holy, purified, unstained-by-human-sin river.
Nope. If you’re reading Matthew NOT verse by verse, but reading it like you do your favorite Stephen King novel … you’ll experience Joseph and Mary fleeing with Jesus to Egypt to escape the wrath of a jealous king; they return after Herod’s death; then BAM! There’s John in the river baptizing folks and here come Jesus. About 30 years later in less than a few sentences, and with the bitter taste of a turbulent society still fresh in our mouths, we are reading about Jesus wading into the water.
Reading Matthew from the Cotton Patch Gospels is even more revealing; Clarence Jordan tells the story of Jesus not in and around Jerusalem and under Roman rule, but in and around Atlanta, and Birmingham, all under Jim Crow rule – translating New Testament Greek into the southern dialect of the civil-rights era American South.
Jordan forces us to consider the reality of the Gospel story in the midst of our very real American world of political hatred, racism, fear, murder, burning crosses, assassinations, and cell phones and Internet access and instant news and individuals and fringe groups feeding off the heated rhetoric calling for revolutions …
Far from being simply a glorious wonderful beautiful day at the river as portrayed in our paintings, the baptism of Jesus happens in OUR world – with civil unrest, mayhem, inequalities of wealth and power – and assassinations of presidents, leaders, and judges and even little innocent children.
I’ve never swum in the Chattahoochee River, but I have swum in creeks and ponds. And at five or six years of age I clearly remember my older cousin instructing me that unlike the swimming pools I was used to in Metairie, Louisiana, when swimming in a country pond with fish and cows you don’t “use the bathroom” because there is no bathroom to use – you just “let it go” while you’re standing in the water.
Baptismal waters today are heated and like nice big bath tubs with clear water. After all, we preach cleansing and washing away sins as part of the baptism symbolism.
But Jesus was baptized in waters that could wash away dirt as well as expose you to animal excrement and everything else that finds its way into a river in the wild.
And that is exactly why Jesus’ baptism is in fact so important in the face of recent events in Arizona. This is exactly what ties the innocence of Delmar in O Brother, Where Art Thou? with the alienation and anger of Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver.
Not only does Matthew put it directly in that context regarding Herod and the threat of a new king, but the very act itself mystically involves the dung of the world simultaneously washing over Jesus in the purifying act of baptism. Jesus’ baptism reminds us that our faith is not one of escape from the world, nor one of victorious rule over the world, but of loving service to the world just as it is.
The disturbing reality of assassinations and the joyous ol’ time baptismal gatherings at the river. Jesus going under and coming up from the Chattahoochee.
For God so loved the world, indeed.
Now then, I wonder if Karen Spears Zacharias knows Alan Jackson …
Katrina Recollections: A. J. Caruso
A.J.s father’s record collection drying on the front lawn.Editor’s note: Since Fall 2009 Bert Montgomery, a native of New Orleans and the River Parishes, has been collecting stories from his childhood friends, classmates, neighbors and church family about their experiences during after Hurricane Katrina. FaithLab is working with Bert to produce a book (both traditional print and e-book formats) and an interactive website to honor his friends and their experiences. FaithLab is posting excerpts leading up to the book’s publication.
AJ Caruso and I met at John Curtis Christian School – probably when we were in the fifth grade (that’s when I started there). We sat close to each other in a lot of classes, doodled in our notebooks about our favorite rock bands when we should’ve been paying better attention, and we were always talking about music. After ninth grade, I transferred over to Destrehan, and I ran into AJ again – he was in the local heavy metal band “Rex” with my Destrehan friend Terry Gamble (and yes, AJ, too, wore the spandex).
Today, AJ works with a hospital-supplies company, and he is a free-lance musician (see links at end of interview for more info on AJ). In fact, he composed the soundtrack to a new independent movie based in New Orleans called My Friend, Oscar.
AJ was born in New Orleans and lived for thirty-two straight years either in New Orleans, Metairie, Kenner, or St. Rose. He’s lived outside of Louisiana for about ten years; the first two in Charlotte, North Carolina, and the last eight in Atlanta, Georgia. He was living in Atlanta when Katrina’s winds began to blow.
Tell me about the week leading up to Hurricane Katrina: what were you seeing/hearing on the news and from family/friends; and, what you were initial thoughts?
I remained very close to the news for Katrina, since it had become such a large and threatening storm. I was in close contact with family and friends, and I was beginning to survey who was planning to evacuate should the need arise and who was planning to remain in place. If I recall, it was still unknown if Katrina was going to take the “perfect turn” north towards Louisiana, but it was looking like the odds were increasing, and I believe voluntary evacuations were in order at this time.
Initially I was not that worried, since so many storms had come and gone over the past years. However, this storm was building in such intensity that I was actually beginning to worry about those that were persistent in not evacuating if necessary – this had all the signs of the “big one.”
Even as late as Thursday of that week, I was remaining optimistic, but I was very nervous by then. A few friends and family had already evacuated but the majority did not leave until the weekend when it began looking eminent. I distinctly remember leaving work on Friday (days before landfall), talking to coworkers on the way out, suggesting that this was looking very bad and that we may see individuals cutting themselves out of their attics if this one hits New Orleans directly (most individuals not from New Orleans had no idea what I was talking about).
Did you house any family/friends who had evacuated?
Yes! At the peak we had fourteen people, including me and my wife Angela – we also had a dog, cat, bird, and a ferret. Since most of them came from Chalmette, losing everything, they were with us for around 30-45 days in total, some off and on. This provided very interesting times for the family since my wife and I were the only ones working during this period, and maintaining a household of fourteen was not easy. Stress levels were already at their peaks, emotions were out of control as the family watched the news from afar, and it was not unusual for the environment to range from individuals crying at the devastation and loss to family members fighting over who let the trash pile up in the kitchen. Very tough and emotional times for sure, very chaotic.
When Katrina hit, and you watched from the distance, where were you and what was going on in your mind?
Unfortunately, my company was holding its annual national meeting that week, so I had to fly to Arizona on the Sunday morning of the night Katrina made landfall. By now, our house was filling up with evacuees with whom I had to leave my wife alone to handle. It was evident that it was going to make landfall by now so I was really nervous. My mother and step-father decided to remain home in St. Rose, but I talked with my mom encouraging her to make the trip to snatch my grandmother (her mom), who was remaining at her home in the Ninth Ward. She agreed. It took the entire day Sunday for my mother to retrieve her due to evacuation traffic, but luckily they made it back to St. Rose. The only other direct family that remained back was my other grandmother and grandfather, who were staying at their new house in Mandeville (which would hopefully be safe on the Northshore). In fact, they sold their life-long home in the Lakeview area on the Wednesday PRIOR TO THE STORM, moving to their new home in Mandeville less than five days before their Lakeview home was destroyed. I remember our entire family was so upset that they were selling the “family home,” and afterwards, we realized it was a miracle.
Were you able to maintain close contact with family/friends?
Those that evacuated remained in contact, thought for some it was a bit challenging since their whereabouts were unknown. Those that stayed back were out of reach due to all the cell phone outages.
Did you lose contact with anyone?
Yes! I went to sleep in my Arizona hotel room on Sunday night having seen the reports that Katrina had made a quick jog to the right – saving New Orleans from a direct hit. I awoke in the hotel on Monday morning seeing numerous broadcasts stating that the levees had broken and that massive flooding was occurring. I immediately began calling my mother (remember, she stayed back) to see if they were alright; I could not get through at all. I proceeded to contact those that evacuated, particularly my sister who had evacuated to Florida, to see if she had heard from our mom, but she hadn’t. Recognizing that my parents lived right along the levee in St. Rose, I was TERRIFIED!
I tried and tried for hours. I remained in my hotel room and ignored our company meeting until I finally got through just long enough to learn that they were OK … before our connection was lost. At least I knew they were all right.
The following days at our company meeting involved creating a “war-room” to help with proactive logistics planning to support the effort that was ahead. My company is a very large hospital supplies company, and I was a logistics manager at the time. This team immediately put together elaborate plans for servicing the Gulf region, given all the challenges that lie ahead. This was a rewarding effort for me, since I knew I was making a difference early on in the first few days. We later learned that we were one of the only hospital suppliers entering the area for the weeks that followed, which again made me very proud.
A.J.: “Inside my grand-mother-in-law’s living room in Chalmette. I took this as I stepped through the kitchen door for the first time. Notice that the water level was so high that the living room ceiling is all gone, spilling the entire attic contents on to the floor below. Also notice the picture of Jesus off to the right still hanging on the wall….and glowing!”Did Katrina change anything for you – as someone who no longer lives in the region?
As a non-resident during Katrina, it was extremely hard to witness 80% of our friends and families losing their entire worldly possessions. We wanted to help everyone monetarily, but there was simply not enough to go around. This was the most helpless feeling I have ever had. I have always donated to charities and relief efforts over the years, but this time it hit home! Helping was the only option. My wife and I spent weeks going home and helping friends and families go through their homes, wading in hip-boots through knee-high mud, trying to help them salvage anything possible. I have always been a high-strung person, and I distinctly recall a moment when some family members were arguing over whether or not they should go look for some small trinket. I calmly walked up to them and asked what room it was last in and proceeded to walk into the hot, ravaged house and went digging for it without hesitation, leaving them rummaging through articles outside. It seemed so insignificant in light of all the other things that were lost, but at that moment, I felt I could at least help ease the pain if I could just locate it … I did.
Overall, Katrina gave me an entirely new perspective on life and on our material possessions. My wife and I proceeded to do things for family and friends for the months to follow. We did things such as recreating photo albums, archiving salvaged 8mm films that were rescued to DVD, making copies of lost music, etc. Every little thing was worth the effort, even if it seemed insignificant, just to give them back any part of the thousands of personal affects or memories that were lost in the storm. So what did Katrina change? It changed a lot, and I will never forget that day.
Is it possible to talk about the Saints of the last five years (especially winning the Super Bowl this year) without talking about Katrina? Why or why not? What did the Saints’ Super Bowl season mean to you?
To begin, I have been a New Orleans Saints fan since birth. I distinctly remember years and years of literally tear-shedding hysterics as a youngster, watching the Saints falter every season. Flash forward to 2005. Personally, the year following Katrina was the most significant as it relates to the Saints.
I will never forget watching the homecoming game from our home in Atlanta, when the Saints returned to New Orleans . . . and lo and behold, playing the Atlanta Falcons at that! I clearly remember the tears shed that evening watching the dramatic unveiling of the renovated Superdome. This at the time was “our Superbowl.” As we all remember, not only did the Saints win that game, but went on to the NFC Championship that year. I, as well as thousands of others, just knew the Saints were going to make it that year. It was too perfect, too symbolic, coming off of the Katrina catastrophe; just like when the New England Patriots went following 9/11, right?
I remember watching the Saints play the Chicago Bears in that soon-to-be-historic game . . . and then the first snowflake fell. I knew in my heart at that moment, that we would not be going to the Superbowl. That season, and that game in my opinion, was the most symbolic as it relates to the Saints connection with Katrina. While I (as well as all Saints fans) were so proud of the incredible comeback made that year – which truly was a feat of incredible proportions given all the team had to go through – at the end of the day it personally gave me that unlucky feeling of “always coming up an inch short” as it related to the Saints. That to me was the year the city needed it most coming off of Katrina, but it again drifted away like dust in the wind. That season, the tie between the Saints, the fans, and Katrina were one in the same. They (the Saints) became a symbol of the city’s climb to normalcy, that still provided hope, having at least made it farther than the team ever had, despite the Superbowl miss. Up to this point, it was hard to talk about the Saints without some correlation to Katrina.
This last season however, was different. I know I am not alone when I speak of what this season and the Superbowl win meant to myself and any New Orleanian. Personally, I do not correlate this past season with Katrina as much, despite what this means to the region in terms of the rebuilding effort and the come-back of the city overall. The interest it has (re)generated for the city of New Orleans has been fantastic, and no doubt will help with the continuing effort of restoring life to normal across the region. While no doubt important to the effort, I feel that the Katrina reference may have been used a little too much this season. I know that the news media and others used this to capitalize on the events, but in my opinion, what the season and Superbowl win meant to the region and all Saints fans would have been just as dramatic and exciting regardless.
The “story” behind the 30 year journey to the Superbowl and more importantly the win, provided hope for a region that has always felt suppressed, even despite Katrina. I think it made everyone (including myself), feel like “someone” for the first time in the Saints history, and Katrina only added to the equation. To me, the season and Superbowl win (sorry to repeat, I love the sound of that) symbolizes the end of one era and the beginning of a new one – one from the perspective of the Saints and the fan’s journey to finally achieving the ultimate victory, and one that can hopefully close the door on the Katrina chapter.
While this catastrophe should always be in our minds and hearts, I feel that the Saints Superbowl victory provided a “cleansing” of some sort. While there continues to be regions that are still returning to normal, and while the population and economy are still regaining strength and continue to get better, I feel the Superbowl win symbolizes that the region HAS made it through the catastrophe, HAS made it through unbelievable adversity, HAS overcome astronomical odds, and that it shows the resilience of a region, a people, and their beloved sports team that is unfounded and of which I am so proud to call home. WHO DAT, TWO DAT!
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