More than shopping on a budget

By Duane Sweep
Associate for Communications

He calls out of the blue. (What does that mean, anyway? Ask Google. So I could have said, out of the sky.)

But that’s what he does - calls out of the blue. Wendell, I mean. It was Thursday.

He was probably sitting in a seaside lounge chair, wiggling his toes and drinking something that has a miniature patio umbrella as a swizzle stick. Banana is probably in the drink’s name.

I say hello. (Remind me to pay attention to the incoming-call number.)

He just says, “So what’s this I read?”

And I know who he is and what he’s talking about.

But I say, “What are you reading?”

“This food-challenge or SNAP-challenge thing,” he says. He says thing like it’s something you shouldn’t step in – avoid it if it’s on the sidewalk. Don’t step in that.

“Yes, Wendell, it’s called a food-stamp challenge or a SNAP challenge. We’ve been spending the week living on Minnesota’s average food-stamp payment.” I’m sure he’s already checked it to see that it’s $3.86 per person, per day.

“You’re still living,” he says, and I hear ice rattling.

“Of course,” I say.

“See,” he says, “It’s not that bad. If you can do it so can anyone else.”

“That’s not the point, Wendell.” He doesn’t like it when I use his name like that. It’s condescending, he’s told me. It’s just being nice, Wendell, I told him once. It helps me remember who you are, Wendell, I said. He could see right through me.

“And, Wendell, it’s not about living on what you spend,” I say. And I pause. He waits quietly. “It could have something to do with wastefulness, Wendell,” I say.

“Stop it.”

“No, there’s only a couple of days left. We won’t stop now.”

“No, not the challenge,” he says. “Stop calling me Wendell.”

“So it could have something to do with wastefulness. We don’t usually pay much attention to what we spend on groceries. This week was different. We actually planned our meals. Bought low-cost stuff, like a pound of margarine for 74 cents.”

“I’m not impressed,” he says.

“Well, think about this. We made my mom’s Spanish rice for Sunday dinner and then ate it as leftovers Monday. Then we made something like a package mix with hamburger Tuesday, pushing it further with a can of corn, and ate … ” And he didn’t let me finish.

“Your mom’s Spanish rice?” he asks.

“That’s what I call it.”

“She was Dutch,” he says.

“So I’ll just call it rice and tomato hotdish,” I say.

“Casserole,” he says.

“But we’re typically wasteful. We don’t pay attention to what we buy. We don’t often think about those who have to live on a limited budget or might be hungry. It’s easier not to. And I should think about that. I should think about it every time I step in the grocery store.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“It’s in morning where you are, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Friday morning, actually,” he says. “I couldn’t sleep. I was on Twitter.”

“So that’s where you saw the food-stamp challenge.”

“Yep. Had to call.”

“I know.”

“And I really don’t care that you’re wasteful.”

“Thanks, Wendell.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says. “Being wasteful doesn’t do much. I really don’t care if you’re thankful that you don’t need food stamps or that you can be thankful during the big holiday next week or that you think o others. What I’m wondering … ”

I interrupted him this time.

“I know where you’re going with this,” I say.

“Do something about it,” he says. “There needs to be more. Maybe you could share a little bit – not like sitting in a circle and sharing your thoughts – but sharing. You know, sharing what you saved on groceries this week. Just that little bit.”

“That’s the tough part, Wendell.” I say his name, and I’m sorry, but he didn’t notice. “Sharing doesn’t come easy.”

“As I see it, that’s what needs to happen,” he says. “Hey, just think about it. And it’s about time for me to get to work.”

I know he was sitting on the west side of the island, down on the beach, but still in the shade. I think it was in the 80s there, partly cloudy, rained last night. I hear him getting up.

“Hey, take care,” I said. “Wendell?”

Just like that – out of the blue.

(Yes, this phone call is fiction, but you knew that. There may have been a few guys like Wendell, but the character isn’t real – maybe a composite.)

Double dare you

I haven’t checked national numbers, but there was a story in a recent edition of the Star Tribune of Minneapolis that reported more than 500,000 Minnesotans receive federal food assistance. That’s about one in 10.

As of this morning – Nov. 1 – 169 people across the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) have decided to participate in the Presbyterian Hunger Program’s “Food Stamp Challenge.”

Can you live on the average, per-person food-stamp support in your state? In Minnesota it’s $3.86 per day. The average per month here is $115.91. Divide that by 30 (the number of days in the month), multiply the result by 7, the number of days in the week, and you get $27.04.

A couple of us – well, Sandy and I for now – have decided to accept the challenge. One week. Seven days. Nov. 17-23. Wait a minute. My birthday falls in there. That’s right, but that’s no excuse.

By the way, Minnesota has the lowest average, per-person food-stamp support of all the states. But we don’t pay sales tax on food purchases here – a bright note.

Getting involved is easy.

You go to this website to sign up. And you find the average, per-person monthly support here. As it says, “The Challenge simply means choosing for one week to live on the average amount of food stamp support.”

But it goes on to note, that the amount you can spend includes “breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, seasonings and drinks.” Did you ever look at the price of pepper? Do you know how much that artificial sweetener costs?

I’ve posted about it a couple – well, a few – times. In every place, be it Facebook or Twitter, someone replies that it can be done – you can live on the average food stamp allowance for your state.

I know it can be done. I’m not doubting that at all. Sandy and I will spend only $54 on groceries for that week. And we will survive. After all, it can be done.

But that’s not the point. The point is many of us have it pretty good.

Every morning I eat a bowl of Cheerios – at least two cups. That’s about 50 cents. I drown the Cheerios in milk. I go through about a quart of milk every 10 days or so. That’s about 20 cents per day. I drink a couple cups of coffee. We buy Caribou ground breakfast blend (hey, it’s good), but that’s about another 40 cents per day – just for me.

Once I get to work, about mid-morning, I’ll eat an apple. That’s about 50 cents. And for lunch I’ll eat a low-carb frozen lunch – oftentimes one of those mystery-meat selections. It’s about a buck a day.

Then, after lunch, I’ve used up $2.60 of my daily allowance.

I’ve been known to eat an apple or an orange for an afternoon snack. That would be another 50 cents and that would put me at about $3.10.

And I will only have 75 cents – well, 76 cents – left for dinner.

Let’s take a close look at dinner. My share – for one serving – of one of those boxed meals – you know, the box of pasta with secret sauce mix combined with  milk and hamburger – will be about 25 cents if the box is on sale for a $1. That’s figuring that we get four servings out of each box.

But I suppose I need hamburger and a little milk.

Hamburger, even on sale at $2.99 per pound, will be about 75 cents per serving. That’s a quarter pound of the cheapest beef (75 percent lean) per serving.

I’ll have to make sure we get four servings.

But I’m at $4.10 and that’s 24 cents (let’s say 25 cents) over the limit.

There go the two apples per day. We’ll check on carrots. A reasonable substitute?

I’m drinking water all week. There will be black coffee at the office.

We will spend $54, no more, on groceries that week.

It will cover everything.

Are you up to the challenge?

Consider yourself challenged. In fact, I dare you. No, I double dare you. No one should go hungry.

Transitions

By Kathleen Bronagh Weller
the celtic monk

The following post originally appeared in "The Celtic Monk." It is reprinted here with permission from the author.

This is my favorite photo. It's a Beluga Whale who has become the signature of all printed material of Peace River Spirituality Center. You can see her in a quick glance at our brochure, letterhead, business cards, even on our mouse pad!

It's not that I don't like the rounded white head of the Beluga, but there is something at the same time mysterious, ethereal and strong about this image. Maybe the mystery is in the nature of the fluke--which we know is like the whale version of human fingerprints...no two exactly alike. Maybe its the strength we imagine of this magnificent creature as she plunges herself into the deep. Or simply the stark visual contrast of the white flesh against the dark water in her naturalized tank.

My eye, heart and imagination are caught by the amazing color of the submerged head and body under the water. The cool teals and turquoises call me to follow. I want to know what caused her to change course. I want to feel the water quickly going over my body. I want to know what called to her that was worth the plunge--perhaps especially that--what made her dive deeper?

This photo is of a moment in time of a transition. We don't know what happened the moment before, or what came after. We do know that something or someone called and Sophia took the plunge, changed direction, went by another path, deeper...and alone.

That is the nature of transitions, isn't it. One moment we're headed one way and then something happens, or we hear a different voice, a different call. It's the nature of transitions that they often feel like we're taking a plunge which can be exciting or fearful or both. What transitions have you experienced lately?

Transitions can be public like changes in where we work or where we live. They can be more private like matters of our health or changing our mind. But sometimes the transitions of our life are of the spirit. Transitions in our spirit often affect all areas of our lives--as they involve the very bedrock of who we are.

In my work in spiritual direction, I'm often able to accompany folks as they are being awakened to fresh impulses of God's Spirit. Often they don't recognize the new...but know that the old ways they thought, prayed, experienced the Holy, or believed are changing. It's most often at first a frightening thing. But as we meet, together we're able to begin to see an order, or direction, or even a divine plan. Waiting is the most difficult part of any transition.

Currently I'm in a transition of my own. After 5 consecutive Interim opportunities...I hear a loud, insistent call for reflection. This week I've transitioned from a 20 month full-time call to a very part-time position for the next few months. I find myself at a place of utter openness willing to take the time to listen and follow, whatever that may bring. I'm trying to pay attention to those sweet whispers of the Spirit--making note of what is new or different. More than ever, I take comfort in the photo above and her obvious freedom to change direction!

I'm convinced that for the most part we've been poorly taught in how to be aware and listen for birthing moments in our spirit. Life moves at a pace that is not conducive to such subtlety. Chances are we've whooshed right past Spirit nudges and have left behind opportunities for our good and for the good of others around us.

But it need not be so. Why not set aside an hour a month for your spirit? Meditate. Pray. Make an appointment with a spiritual director. Walk on the beach (unless its cold where you are). Set an intention to connect with your spirit--and don't be surprised when The Spirit shows up.

Pertaining to synods

By Duane Sweep
Associate for Communications

Synodical, or pertaining to a synod. Synodical – the word itself – is an inside joke here.

These days, if you’re associated with a synod, or an associate or something for a synod, the ability to accept criticism is vital. Criticism of synods is that common.

You see, we’re in postmodern and perhaps post-Christendom times. But we know it’s a post-something time. We may have even reached a post-post time.

And being post-anything – at least for the synod – means it’s probably time we look at how we got here, what we’ve become and, at a minimum, where we are going and if we even belong.

First, we know how synods are perceived throughout the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). And it’s not good – if we accept without question the research results of the first Mid-Council Commission that submitted its report to the General Assembly last summer.

The report, often lauded for the research, includes a statement in the research addendum that says much about the findings. On page 112 there’s this line: “Because respondents self-selected, results may not be representative of the larger constituencies of which respondents are a part.”

Think about that for a minute. It’s not in the numbers; it’s in the selection.

Yes, the research was a monumental effort, but those who responded made the decision to participate. They were not part of an appropriately selected sample. Respondents self-selected.

Second, it might not be that synods are superfluous – at least not all the time and in all places. Of all the governing bodies – o.k., councils – presbyteries are necessary to be Presbyterian. If I’m not mistaken, presbyteries at some point made the decision to create synods.

So, I’m thinking it’s probably a good idea for presbyteries to play a really significant role in determining what synods should be doing and where synods end up going.

I don’t think it’s time for presbyteries to be heard; I think it’s time for presbyteries to really be the drivers.

The overture adopted earlier this month by the Presbytery of Prospect Hill is a step in that direction. The overture calls on the General Assembly to “take no action related to the functions of synods, the merger or redrawing of boundaries of synods, or the elimination of synods … without the consent of any synod and a majority of the presbyteries affected.”

The overture goes on to encourage presbyteries “to consider consultation with their synod and surrounding presbyteries … regarding what functions are appropriate within their respective synod.”

 
I think that’s kind of Presbyterian and maybe even synodical in way.

What do you want to keep?

By Dave Crittenden
Transitional Synod Executive

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die,” wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer in The Cost of Discipleship.

I have wrestled with this quote for more than 40 years. I believe it is true with all my heart, but I do not even begin to live it. I really want to keep my life and everything else I have labeled mine since I could first say the word. The majority of the 40 years I thought it was about giving until I realized you can only give your all when you are willing to risk not keeping anything.

How much we want to keep is a question we have to answer for ourselves. The answer involves what you really desire to keep – not what should you keep, not what would look good and not even what would make the most sense.

We almost always want to keep very nearly everything. When the crops are plentiful we want to store the abundance in silos.

Jesus told his disciples to leave their families and jobs to follow him. Most of us would not even entertain the thought. He asks us to be willing to give our lives – “… none of you who are unwilling to give up all of your possessions can be my disciple” (Luke 14:33).

Most of us are like the young man who inquired of Jesus what else was needed to attain treasure in heaven after doing everything the law required. The young man failed because he could not give his possessions away.  In the end we want what we have more than anything else – even more than the promises of Christ.

We are obsessed with having. We are reluctant to give too much of our time, ideas, plans, space or relationships. It is obvious that keeping what we have is a barrier to giving, but it is also a barrier to change.

As long as we want to keep what we have we even have trouble thinking about how things might be different or better. The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) is looking for a new way to be church. Congregations are looking for what they are called to be in a time when being Christian is countercultural. Presbyteries, Synods and the national expressions of the church are seeking the best way to serve congregations. The conversation needs to be around how much we want to keep.

When we can all honestly say nothing we can begin to see God’s vision for the future.

Questions and radical changes

Editor’s Note: David Crittenden, transitional synod executive, presented a sermon June 21 at a meeting of the Presbytery of South Dakota. An edited version of that sermon is the column published below.
 

by Dave Crittenden

Transitional Synod Executive

As text:

Joel 2:28 – After that I will pour out my spirit upon everyone; your sons and your daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions.

Acts 11:9 – The voice from heaven spoke a second time, ‘Never consider unclean what God has made pure.’

What is the Spirit Saying to Us? What is in store for the Presbytery of South Dakota and the Synod of Lakes and Prairies? Have we seen any visions lately?

I am a born and raised Presbyterian. I have been an ordained teaching elder since 1974. God has called me to serve at every level of the Presbyterian Church. In my almost 40 years of service our church has not changed much but I believe there is no doubt the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) is changing and needs to change – at every level.

What we have always done has not worked for so long that we are all looking for a different or better way to answer God’s call or just simply survive. I have never believed God calls us to be a part of congregations, presbyteries, synods or a national church that only seeks to survive. God calls us as individuals to be a part of congregations and presbyteries that witness to God’s amazing grace and Christ’s saving love that transforms people and communities into places filled with vibrant life.

Yes, God calls each of us and us together to do more than survive. God calls us to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ in our communities and around the world. We, you and I, indeed the whole Presbyterian Church, are looking for a vision for the future that allows us to be the witness that we are called to be.

As many of you know the PC(USA) has announced another year where our gains have been exceeded by our losses. We know, as we look at the larger picture in our country, that the influence of Christianity is waning to the point of being a counter culture. Is the Presbyterian Church dying? Is Christianity on its way out? I believe, with every fiber of my being, God will not let that happen. At the same time, we must acknowledge that any vision for our future involves doing things differently. We cannot do what we have always done and expect different results.

First, while we know our younger generations may be as committed to following Christ as our older generation, that younger generation is and will be following in different ways than we did.

Second, we know we have become a multicultural nation. You may have heard Frank Yamada, president of McCormick Seminary, remind us there will not be a majority race in the United States by the year 2040. As a denomination we have a priority to become a multi-culture, multi-racial denomination. Yet it is obvious we are not clear on how that might happen.

What will our congregations need to do? As we look at who is sitting in the pews we realize the changes in our society will be quite a challenge for us. Those changes require us modify how we think about doing church. It may be so different – or different enough – that we won’t recognize our church.

And we ask what we need to do to fix this. We all would like a program or best practice to follow that would make our church and the larger church grow and flourish. We want to know the steps we need to take even if they are not easy.

One thing most people who have been studying our situation agree on is the answer or answers are adaptive and not technical. This means there are no steps we can each take that will fix our problems.

The answer may be different for each church. It means we will find the answers together and we will find them by listening to each other and looking for adaptive change together.

Most also agree that all this starts by asking the right questions. We need questions that get our creative juices flowing and encourage us to think outside our comfort zone. We need new thoughts.

Gil Rendle, a contemporary author who writes about the church and these challenging times suggests two questions: (1) How will we be with God? and (2) How will we be with each other? The synod is looking at two similar questions: (1) What is God doing in our midst and how are we responding to God’s invitation to be a part of it? and (2) How might this council – presbytery or synod – help those within its region be more faithful participants in the mission of Christ?

A part of answering our questions is to learn from our past. A large part of our past is recorded in scripture. The prophet Joel and the early church’s experience do have something to tell us. Joel was a prophet who pronounced God’s judgments on the southern kingdom of Judah. Joel’s vision for the future included a judgment of God’s people and foreign nations. He also spoke of restoration of God’s people through intense suffering.  Joel says “ … your sons and your daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, and your young men will see visions.” Joel speaks of radical change, but points out that God provides the answers for the radical change. Sound familiar?

The Acts passage reminds us of Peter’s game changing vision. It is possible that without this one vision we would not be sitting here today. Peter provided a radical vision. Just how radical? Peter originally refused to follow God’s command. Then, his fellow Christians chastise him for going to the home of the unclean and eating with them. Peter asked the followers in Jerusalem to change the very foundation of their Christian belief.

Peter’s vision and Christ’s commands have taught us to include everyone. We may not be able to imagine excluding specific persons from our congregation as they come to visit as an individual or a family, but can we imagine what it will be like to find ourselves accepting large numbers of people into our congregations who are not only unlike us, but whose practices are very different than ours. The gentiles of Peter’s time who were uncircumcised and ate unclean food far outnumbered the circumcised Christians. They radically changed the church. Is your church – your congregation – able to withstand that kind of change?

Peter and the church at Jerusalem faced our first question: What is God doing in your midst and how are you responding to it? Joel tells the people of his day what God is doing and what they should do. Take a moment and try to imagine what it would be like for your congregation or this presbytery if someone shared a vision that involved such a radical change. What would your honest reaction be? Would you believe them? Would you be willing to risk change on the strength of a vision? What does it take to make such radical change?

With the prophet Joel and Acts 11 as background, how do you answer the first question: What is God doing in our midst and how are we responding to God’s invitation to be a part of it? And how might this council help those within its region be more faithful participants in the mission of Christ?

It is important that the presbytery be diligently looking for the answer to the second question: How might this presbytery help its congregations be more faithful participants in the mission of Christ? What do you or will you need from the larger church – the synod and General Assembly – to help your congregations?

I believe that when we search for the answers to these questions and when we become open and responsive to God’s response, that is when the vision is most likely to come to us.

 

Postmodern lament

by Duane Sweep
Associate for Communications
Synod of Lakes and Prairies

I grow tired hearing about the decline of the mainline Protestant church.

We’re in the postmodern, post-Christendom world. We’re maybe in the post-postmodern world.

In our postmodern world we have taken a second look at the dominant culture, deconstructing its attitudes and beliefs, and skeptically exposing multiple translations of the historical text.

In our post-Christendom world, we have seen a decline in the practice of Christian religion, first in Europe and now across North America. We have seen a rise in secular beliefs and attitudes that have replaced Christian thought in the developed nations.

It’s a time, at least for some who have spent their life within the structure of the church, to lament.

But I grow frustrated when those lamentations become too frequent, when those lamentations seem to undermine what is good, when those lamentations attract too much attention, causing the good to go unnoticed.

I often find the lamentations tiring.

I grow tired when service is overshadowed by preaching or when preaching is a prerequisite for service.

I think of the child who goes to school hungry, the child who finds a way to get to school when parents are too drunk or too stoned to drive, the child who might have all the toys but is sexually abused at home.

When we as the church help the children who need help the most we are proclaiming the gospel.

And I grow tired when providing the shelter, nurture and fellowship to God’s children is discussed less than declining church membership.

When we as the church open our doors, accepting others without restriction, without requirements, without expectations, we are taking the right step.

And I grow tired when I hear that a traditional worship service serves a congregation’s older members while a contemporary service responds to younger worshipers.

When we realize that worship can take many forms, when we learn to accept that not everyone worships as we do, we will probably be taking the right step. When we accept that many forms of worship are divine, we might be taking one more step in the right direction.

And I grow tired when some within the church deride Presbyterian-related colleges and universities for being too secular, questioning whether those institutions meet some standard of what it means to be Presbyterian.

When we recognize the search for knowledge is a necessary part of preserving the truth, we will better see that we as the church are served by our colleges and universities, not the other way around. Our colleges and universities are a part of our history and certainly a part of our future.

And I grow weary when congregations are faced with vandalism for encouraging the participation of those who have been rejected in other areas of our society.

We can be reassured of the church’s work in social righteousness by the courage of those who are willing to accept renunciation for welcoming the marginalized.

It really is a new day. We need to accept that we live in a time of change, of doubts, of ambiguity. And I believe change, doubt and ambiguity are not only acceptable, but will be permanent fixtures of the age in which we live.

While we move through and within this postmodern time, we should do less lamenting.

We have a future and we need to be willing to explore our way into it, not hanging on to our structures, not lamenting a decline in the number of those like us, but looking to the good that exists today and trying to discover how we will move that forward.