As a minister I attend several memorials each year.  Most, I officiate, but I also go as an attendee.  There are times I do not know the deceased, but I participate as an act of honoring their life and caring for their survivors.   Often I hear someone say to a person grieving the loss of a loved one, “if there is anything I can do just tell me.”  Given the chance, I would advise them to “go to the memorial.”  Your presence says you care more than words ever could.

I do not regret giving time to attend a memorial.  In every instance I come away with something valuable in the form of an experience or feeling I seldom know any other way.  Ceremonies like weddings and funerals address questions we need to ask ourselves on a regular basis.  When a bride and groom recite their vows, it is impossible for onlookers to avoid the question:  what is the measure of my commitment to those I’ve given my promise?  When relatives or friends share their remembrance of a loved one, I am challenged by how that person lived and the kind of influence they had on others which leads me to ask, what am I doing with my time?

Last week I officiated for the memorial of John Brown.  Many things in the memorial stood out; such as the full military honors presented by a dozen members of the United States Marine Corps, a soloist singing “The Lord’s Prayer,” and a bagpiper playing “Amazing Grace.”  However, when attendees remarked that this was one of the best memorials they have been part of, I think it was because they identified with one or more of the remembrances spoken with admiration and appreciation of John’s life.  John invested in the community with leadership given to various service organizations.  Never content to sit on a board (three of which he served over 20 years simultaneously), John wanted to see them work.  As his son Barry stated, “He was simply a man who wanted to see good things happen and worked tirelessly to get a building built or a program implemented.”  For the YMCA he helped construct a building; for the Salvation Army he helped start a mobile unit providing relief in emergencies; for the Rotary Club, he launched a foundation to fund projects with investment dollars.

John’s life was lived in self-giving –a complete contrast to today’s patterns of self-advancement and self-serving. He was generous with his time, his thoughts, his resources, and his life.  As the beneficiary of God’s love and service, John, in turn, chose to live his life in gratitude for God’s gift and to show that same love to those whom God brought into his life.

Sometimes the memorial is less about a person’s accomplishments than it is about their behavior or character; such as the devotion of a grandparent or how well someone celebrated others without drawing attention to him or herself.  In nearly every one, I learn valuable lessons of how to live by reflecting on the choices of others.

I leave the memorial, but the person’s life does not leave me.  Some speak of how his or her memory lives on.   But this is more than a memory.  By taking time to honor someone’s life, I’ve allowed him or her to influence my own.

The title of David Kinnaman’s new book, You Lost Me, threatens me as a communicator of the gospel and pastor of a church.  I don’t need the president of a research group with statistical data to tell me that the next generation is not as involved or engaged in church as previous generations have been.  That much is clear, but what I wasn’t prepared to face was my responsibility for their departure.  Ouch!

There are some who recommend adapting worship styles, such as adding rock music or film clips, to attract this age group and possibly hold their interest.  Research indicates even these changes are not enough.  Mainline churches in America are in decline, but so are the rest of America’s churches.  Kinnaman calls attention to another concern revealed from their research:   “more than 4 out of 5 Americans believe the Bible is the inspired Word of God.  The larger problem is many doubt the Bible has a claim on their lives.  We respect the Bible, but we don’t obey it.”   If Kinnaman’s conclusion is correct the problem is greater than it appears.

Could it be that America’s church leaders have put too much emphasis on church growth by numbers at the neglect of growing our churches in depth?  Have we assumed incorrectly that if people went to church more they would be better individuals and their behavior would be more like Jesus? Yet, how do we account for the drastic disconnect between what we say we believe and how we behave?

In his New York Times article “America’s Children and Our Shallow Values” (September 16, 2011), David Brooks summarizes the research of Notre Dame sociologist Christian Smith and others who interviewed 230 young adults across the United States in the summer of 2008 about moral thinking and values.  Their findings, says Brooks, reflects an “atmosphere of extreme moral individualism, relativism, and non-judgmentalism.” Few of these youth could articulate a moral dilemma or formulate a conviction of right and wrong.  More often than not they simply stated that in a given situation they would follow their feelings and avoid moral questions.

This lack of developed moral thinking and judgment in youth is the responsibility of us all.  According to Brooks, our children have not been given the resources in schools, institutions, and families “to cultivate their moral intuitions, to think more broadly about moral obligations, to check behaviors that may be degrading. In this way, the study says more about adult America than youthful America.”

I think both Kinnaman and Brooks have something important to say to me and my role in the church.  They have me asking new questions that go beyond how I might attract youth to church. I need to address how the way I teach the Bible has little influence on the behavior of both youth and adult alike.  Also, why has moral development devolved into a matter of personal choice?  Where do I need to concentrate my time to be more effective as a leader?  Challenged by the observations of Kinnaman and Brooks, I want to develop teaching and training methods that will result in the formation of authentic followers of Jesus who stand out by their convictions in a culture dominated by distractions, personal preferences, and convenience.   I long to see such an investment in people’s lives matter, the way salt flavors food and the way light transforms darkness.

I grew up attending church three times in a week.   I felt close to God inside the church walls, but on weekdays out in the world, I didn’t know how to connect God with my daily life.

I was given to believe church was good and the world was threatening at best, if not evil.  It was permissible to be in the world, but a Christian was not to be of the world.  I understood the grammatical distinction, but I didn’t understand its implications.  Church came across as some kind of refuge from the world’s grip—as if matters of faith were unrelated to school, sports, and non-Christian friendships.

As a young person I lacked the theological training and language to know what was wrong with this picture. Then, in college I began to read about the kingdom of God.  Several things came into focus for me that I had not seen before.  I learned that the sphere of God’s rule encompasses the world and is not limited to the church. I learned how church is not the end of God’s activity but an instrument or mission center that points to the reality of God’s presence and serves God’s purpose in the world.  As part of God’s created order the world was made good, but through humanity’s sin and separation from God the world, like us, is in need of being made right.  I learned there is no dichotomy of church and world, so I can learn about God from being in the world as much as I can from being in church, perhaps even more, if I am paying attention.

A few years later I came across a photo of a man walking a tight rope tethered at one end to a church tower and the other to a high rise, office building.  The man was Philippe Petit, Artist in Residence of The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine in New York City, who had become famous for crossing between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center on a high wire.   The photo vividly captures my understanding of how church and world are related.   Seemingly separate, they are nevertheless connected by a creative tension.

Like the artist, I must learn how to move between the two with skill, concentration, and balance.  Some will wonder why the wire is there and consider any crossing unnecessary.  Others will think that making an effort in either direction is a compromise.  Still others will view such movement as an act with limited entertainment value.   For me, to stay on either side without attempting to cross over is the greater risk.  Suspended between the two, my prayers become direct and urgent, and my awareness of God working is heightened.

We are excited to launch our new website designed by Jared White of Siteshine. Rather than bombard you with lots of words and information, we’ve tried to create a site that allows you to go where you want. It’s a work in progress and still under construction. We view our website as a communication tool to increase participation.