Are We Abondoning the Elderly for Christ's Sake?

Walking distance from my church building stands The Harold & Grace Baker Centre, a nursing home/seniors residence, that for the past 27 years has been ministering to the aged of our neighbourhood during the twilight years of their lives.  Among these frail residents you will find some Roman Catholics, some who are Jewish, some of various flavours of Protestantism, and others without a label to put on their admissions form. However, if truth be told, most of them (whether Christian or not) are just struggling to understand the purpose and meaning of life during what is probably the hardest part of their life's journey.  To help them navigate this difficult journey through the valley of the shadow of death, they have a rich array of caregivers who have devoted their lives to a ministry that pays little and bring few accolades.

When I first arrived at Greenborough, I asked the former pastor to take me to three places in the community that he felt were essential ministries of the church; He took me to the local hospital, the local community social assistance centre and The Harold & Grace Baker Centre.  Since that first visit 10 years ago, the Baker Centre has remained one of those essential ministries for our congregation and for me.  I don't spend a lot of time there (maybe 3-4 hours a month leading in worship, getting to know the residents and staff, and attending their social functions).  They call me the "singing father" (or something like that) because I usually arrive with guitar in hand and a clergy collar around my neck.  During my monthly visits, I try to get into the heads & hearts of these frail saints & sinners and offer my best to them.  I am always humbled by their strength in the face of adversity, yet saddened by their experience of loneliness and abandonment.

Over the past few years I have also noticed that while our Roman Catholic neighbours faithfully minister to these aging residents week after week, it is like pulling teeth to get a Protestant cleric to offer even an hour a month.  After all, we are too busy doing kingdom work.  We have sermons to write, people to lead, churches to grow, lost sheep to find, new believers to disciple, etc.  In other words, we have better places to be and better things to do.

Yet I fear that in the process of seeking out new, exciting and more "successful" ways of doing ministry, we pastors/leaders/clerics have forgotten how to be agents of altruistic service in Jesus' name, serving others with little expectation of church growth or accolades for our efforts.  Instead, we see ministry to the institutionalized elderly as a poor use of our time, maybe even a waste of time.  As pastors, we would rather invest our time on ministries that bring us success in the form of conversions, church growth and enthusiastic disciples. In other words, we have forgotten how to serve altruistically the most vulnerable of our society -- those whom even, we, the church are willing to abandon in our quest for greener pastures for Christ's sake.

Pastors, Politicians & Fair-weather Friends

In the months prior to the October 2010 municipal election in Toronto, Ontario, I worked closely with our church's local city councillor, Frank Di Giorgio.  He sat in on our monthly Greenhills Community Association meetings and worked hard to promote neighbourhood issues that were important to us.  Yet when it came time for reelection, I dropped him like a hot potato in an effort to remain political impartial.  After all, that is what I was taught to do as a pastor.  Remain impartial when it comes to all things political. The problem was, I felt like crap for months afterwards.  Frank Di Giorgio had invested hours attending meetings, listening to our concerns, researching local issues, championing the things that mattered to us, and then, like a fair-weather friend, I had distanced myself from him when he needed my support.  It's the same kind of thing others people do to me as a pastor.  They come to me when they are in need but I never see them supporting the church when we need them.

Never again, I told myself.  If someone goes out of their way to meet with me, hear my concerns, work with me and the church for the good of the community and its people, than, as a pastor I would acknowledge his/her hard work, rather than distancing myself in the name of political neutrality.

This past weekend, I met with two of our local candidates for the upcoming Ontario provincial election in October 2011: Paul Ferreira (NDP) and Laura Albanese MPP (Lib). Both are passionate advocates for our community.  I consider both of them friends.  Yet I told each one separately, that in an effort to remain politically impartial, I had decided to support the local incumbent during the upcoming election campaign.  I also made the commitment to support the winner of the next election throughout their mandate and into their next election campaign (provided of course that they serve the community well). In other words, I will support them because of the work they have done on behalf of the community rather than because of the political party they represent.

And so I will support Laura Albanese MPP (Lib) during the upcoming election campaign because she has served our community well over the past 4 years.  And I will do the same for our city councillor Frank Di Giorgio as well as our newly elected federal member of parliament Mike Sullivan MP (NDP).  If they work for our community and serve us well, I will acknowledge their hard work come election time. I will not be a fair-weather friend.  Rather, I will strive to be a good Christian nigh dweller.

Pastoral Vision Casting and Other Deadly Sins

I must confess, I've never been a big fan of pastoral vision casting. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for setting intentional goals and working through strategic plans with my congregation, but as a Baptist, I've always believed that God's vision for the church is revealed not through the pastor or spiritual leader but rather through the Holy Spirit at work amidst the congregation, of which the pastor is but one discerning voice among many. You see, I believe that God speaks most clearly through the faith community, rather than through boards and pastors. As far as I'm concerned, the pastor ought not to be the one who casts God's vision for a congregation, but rather strives to discern the vision being revealed by God amidst the congregation.  And thus, I am always weary of pastors who claim to know God's vision for a particular congregation (especially when such bold assertions are made during the interview process with a pastoral search committee). And I guess I'm as guilty as the next. In fact, I would go as far as to say, it is a destructive deadly sin to think that as pastors, we are the bearers, casters and implementers of God's vision.  And I'm not alone in holding such a view.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in Life Together (1939) puts it best when he writes:

"God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious.  The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by God, by others, and by himself.  He enters the community of Christians with his demands, sets up his own law, and judges the brethren and God Himself accordingly.  He stands adamant, a living reproach to all others in the circle of brethren.  He acts as if he is the creator of the Christian community, as if his dream binds men together. When things do not go his way, he calls the effort a failure.  When his ideal picture is destroyed, he sees the community going to smash.  So he becomes, first an accuser of his brethren, then an accuser of God, and finally the despairing accuser of himself."

And thus, what begins as a desire to discern God's vision quickly spirals out of control as discernment becomes prideful vision casting, reshaped into preferred outcomes, strategic goals and pastoral expectations which inevitably deteriorate into pastoral arrogance, anger, intolerance, and despair.

Alan J. Roxburgh, in his book Missional Map-Making (2010) describes this futile process as akin to  trying to "herd cats." Describing a similar spiralling descent into discouragement Roxburgh writes:

"I see many church leaders who begin with high levels of energy as they are called to a church or judicatory that wants to go through a process of 'transformation'. The new leader comes in with or develops a plan that is expected to give a new direction over the next five years. How often have I sat with these leaders as they honestly confess that the plan isn't working and they face their own discouragement."(p. 70f.)

Been there. Done that. By the grace of God, I think I'll leave the vision casting to God and instead play my part in assisting the community of faith in discerning where God is at work among us.

Politics and the Christian Nigh Dweller

Next week I have to cancel a worship band practice so I can attend a local All-Candidates Debate leading up to the May 2 federal election in Canada.  The response from one of my deacons upon hearing this news was: "You should run for political office."

Right! Me run for political office.  I wouldn't last a week without sticking my foot in my mouth. Furthermore, I don't think I have skin thick enough to handle the unceasing public criticism and mud slinging that goes on as part of the political dance. As I've often said, while a politician is happy if she/he has 50% plus one support on any given issue, a pastor gets depressed if even one church member is at odds with her/him.

No! I doubt I'm cut out for politics, but I have a deep respect for those who do offer themselves up as candidates regardless of which party they represent.  It takes courage and passion to risk one's good name, reputation and money in the hopes of landing a job which will most likely see you face a very public defeat at some point in the future.

And yet, while candidates risk much for the sake of good government, the rest of us spend our time complaining about the inconvenience of having to vote.  Even those of us conscientious enough to vote often fail to realize that our democratic system demands more from us than just an informed "X" on a ballot.  Yes! We need people to vote. But we also need voters willing to volunteer their time and donate their money to support the candidates they plan to vote for.

So this election, don't just vote. Get out there, and serve your community in Christ's name.  Pray for your candidates and lend a helping hand as they campaign for office.  Find a candidate who most closely mirrors what you believe and help her/him get the vote out.  Show your community that, as a Christ follower, you too long to see good government prevail.  And in the midst of all the political posturing: “Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.”  - Romans 12:17–18 (NLT)

French Canadian by Birth, Bilingual by Choice

Until I left Montreal, Quebec to attend seminary in Hamilton, Ontario I was known as "Mike" by my English friends, and "Michel" by "mes amis français". Born to French Canadian parents yet educated in English I found myself straddling two cultures and finding my comfort zone somewhere in the middle.  That is probably why I married an anglophone (that's what we call English speaker in Quebec) who spoke French.  It wasn't until I moved to Ontario that I began to discover that, even though I spoke fluent English without an accent, I was different from your average Ontarian of the day. This was especially true when it came to conversations.

Let's put it this way: If you want me to shut up, tie my hands behind my back.  I remember being instructed by my British homiletics professor that one shouldn't use his/her hands when preaching.  Trying to comply, I bolted my hands firmly to each side of the pulpit during my first in-class sermon.  Then I tried to preach (I should say, I tried to speak).  But I couldn't. I couldn't get my brain and my mouth to work together without the aid of my hands.  It wasn't long before I was given an exemption from preaching without my hands.

Then there was my constant interruption of others.  You see, a typical French conversation at a dinner table consists of multiple speakers holding several conversations at the same time, while using volume to interject their thoughts into the mix.  None of this wait your turn and hope someone hasn't changed the subject on you.  So you can imagine how my English speaking colleagues handled my constant interruptions. Eventually I began telling people; "Please interrupt me or else I'll just keep on going and going and ... (you get the idea).

I think it was this need to adapt in order to interact with the English culture that nurtured my passion for intercultural ministry.  Yes I mean intercultural and not multicultural, for I have come to realize that there is more to be learned and gained by interacting with other cultures than isolating oneself in efforts to preserve one's own. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm proud of my French Canadian heritage. In fact, my wife and I intentionally sent our children to French school in efforts to pass that culture on to them.  We wanted them to be bilingual, with a foot in each culture.  Whether it be language, or race, or country of origin, we have so much more to gain from intercultural life than being cocooned in the safety of what we know.

The same is true of church culture.  Gone are the days when we could justify homogeneous church communities, defined by race, culture, age, or even denominational identity.  Church communities must be places where we worship and serve a God who transcends culture.

Agree? If not, excuse my French.