Gone Baby Gone (Spoiler!!!)

I thought I’d had enough of gritty South Boston crime dramas after going to Providence College with a kid who told me stories about ‘Southie’ like it was some kind of bizarro moral universe where right was wrong, cats were dogs and you were either Irish or you weren’t.  Then I saw Mystic River a few years ago, and felt for a week like I needed to take a shower.  2006’s The Departed was a great movie with great acting and a terrific soundtrack, and since my friend in LA recommended it, I tried Gone Baby Gone.

So if you haven’t seen it, and you want to, stop reading.  I’m about to give what they call a spoiler–where I tell you what happens in the movie, and it spoils the surprise.  I know this might seem like an unneeded explanation but I deal with a church crowd that doesn’t get out much.  The ethical drama of the movie revolves around the choice of whether to send a child back to an unfit mother or allow her to stay with people who will take care of her.  Granted these people kidnapped her, but by all accounts they seem like good people who want to give this girl a life, which is more than her coked-up mom would do.  It’s complicated by the girlfriend who tells Patrick, “if you do this (call the cops and send the girl back to her mother), I will hate you forever, and I don’t want to do that”.  Patrick (played wonderfully by Casey Affleck) makes the only decision his moral code allows him to make. 

Hospitality

Anyone who has ever taken a vacation to a place where people are snooty–err, snotty, knows how much the experience is either helped or hindered by the hospitality of those who receive you.  Our family took a wine junket to Long Island this past week, and mostly it was a very positive experience.  The North Fork of LI makes some darn good wine, and they do a great job of setting up the adventure so that you’re never more than five miles from a vineyard, in any direction.

Once we arrived on Thursday, we soon met Allison’s sister Sarah who drove from NYC.  Lunch ensued–where to go?  After asking around, we settled on the Seafood Barge, which isn’t actually a barge.  It’s a decent looking place in a marina-type location that puts out all its awards in the lobby.  A tall, older man welcomed us and sat us down, baby and all, in the middle of the dining room, which was maybe half-full.  We waited about ten minutes for the other waitstaff, one middle-aged woman, to ask if we’d like some bread.  Five more minutes procured a high-chair, and then ten more minutes for our glasses of wine, one of which was wrong.  And on it went.  Allison’s oysters came and were delicious, but then there was another long wait for our food to arrive.  In the meantime, we tried to keep Sarah (the lesser) occupied and happy–she’s such a trooper.  We weren’t the only ones waiting; another couple began to openly complain that they hadn’t been served yet.  Our food eventually arrived before theirs did, and again, it was very good.  But to say that I was surprised that the entire experience took us an hour and fifteen minutes would be an understatement.  It felt like we were in there for three hours.

The next night, Allison and I went on our monthly food binge to the Frisky Oyster, in downtown Greenport.  Granted, we didn’t have Sarah in tow, but everything, from the service to the food to the atmosphere, was exquisite.  We felt polished and pampered, and dare I say, loved.  There was timing, there was pace to what was going on: menu, do we want drinks, what would you like to order, any questions, bottle of wine, appetizers, a nice space between that and the meal, no one rushing you for your plate, dessert menus, and no rush for the bill.  That’s a good experience.  You feel valued. 

Forgive me for thinking of church when I shouldn’t be, but to me, our worship and our liturgy is like a restaurant experience for a good number of people.  Think of it, people do all sorts of things for dinner–what makes someone go out to eat?  They want a good meal, and a nice experience.  They won’t go somewhere where they are mistreated, or the food isn’t good.  Same holds true for Sunday mornings.  There’s all manner of things people can do: stay at home and sleep, read the paper, go for a run, go out to breakfast, watch tv, play with the kids, garden, etc.  What makes someone go to church?  Obviously many people come to worship God–this is a good reason.  But increasingly, people find it just as viable to “worship God” in their gardens, on their walks, with their kids at home.  We can cry and cringe and say “they’re missing out on community; their kids aren’t being educated; there’s no accountability” but that’s just the way it is.  So how can our Sunday morning experiences be like the restaurant that creates a buzz, builds a following and exercises greatness on a weekly basis?  Here are a few thoughts:

Our welcome needs to be strong.  Be glad that people are here.  Call people by their names.  Make a terrific first impression.  Get your most personable people out there to greet others.  If you’re a priest, you’re more maitre’d than cook, so get out there (I myself don’t get out there enough–shame on me)

Our liturgy needs to move with pace.  There needs to be a purpose in what we do.  Let’s not just say the Creed because we have to.  Let’s rediscover WHY we worship, and why our liturgy looks the way it does. Hear what I’m not saying: I didn’t say rush the liturgy and get it over in an hour.  But there needs to be a flow to our worship services.  And trust me, our churches aren’t good enough to think that people have infinite time to spend in them, so let’s not think that we can get away with 75 minute services on the regular.

Finally, let’s value our people.  Thank people for being at your church.  Let them know that we understand they have lots of choices with what to do with their Sunday mornings–we’re glad they chose to worship God with us.  It’s not like we’re living in a culture of consumerism, but if we were, we’d realize that people need to be engaged with what we’re doing, and the more we can do to engage (while not entertaining them), the greater the likelihood that the experience will bring them back again and again.

Nice young boy

I don’t know what you were doing in 1906, but somewhere nearby, Margaret Guay was born.  She grew into a parishioner here at Emmanuel for many years, and now she resides at a nearby nursing home where we worship every other week.  “Ruddy”, as she is known, turned 102 years old yesterday, and celebrated with cake.  Just having visited her this morning, I found her perhaps more coherent than ever.  “Nice young boy”, she called me.  Looking at my collar, she said “nice tie, it’s clean”.  Hat tip to Dot Bentley for reminding me of the big day!

Yesterday, I spent the morning and part of the afternoon with a priest from Leeds in England.  Her name is Daphne Green and she is spending part of her sabbatical looking at different models of congregational development.  We talked about some of the unique circumstances we face here in Cumberland, and in Rhode Island.  One question that was asked more than once was ‘why don’t some churches grow?’ or its cousin, ‘what are these churches doing instead of growing?’  The simple answer is that frankly, some churches don’t want to grow.  They’d rather keep doing what they’re doing, and hope that people will eventually wander in and stay.  However, the days of blinding going to church ended in the 1950’s, and they ain’t coming back.  Not with so much good tv to watch on Sunday mornings.  Not with work taking up 6.5 days of the week.  Not with sports schedules dictating family life.  So churches have to be proactive in getting people to attend. 

So what are these churches doing instead of growing?  They’re stifling new members’ ideas.  They’re complaining about how no one wants to join them.  They’re wishing they could get five more pledging units to help pay the bills, instead of wondering why growth is a critical part of the Gospel message.  See, I think there is something critically wrong with people who don’t see growth as a vital part of church life.  It’s simply counter to the Gospel.  The good news of Jesus is about spiritual growth, growing closer to God, becoming deeper in faith and prayer, etc.  But the good news of God is about corporate growth, spreading the nets, widening the circle, and enlarging the tent.  Think about it this way: if we worship in a fashion that befits the Gospel (y’know, actually being HAPPY, actually thinking that God has given us new life, and actually believing that it means something), people are going to be drawn to that.  They’re going to want some of it.  They may just want to be around it, because it’s so anti-everything they’ve ever known in a church.  And what will happen?  That church will grow.  It won’t be stopped, and it can’t be helped.  Hand in hand with new life in Christ is growth in numbers. 

Saddened to hear this morning that a good friend of mine was ‘turned down’ in the process to become a priest.  Because it’s quite obvious to me that the Episcopal Church doesn’t need any more good, qualified leaders at this time.  We’re all set.  Thanks, though.  (I am sledge-hammering this screen with all the sarcasm my angry little head can muster.)

Big Day

Big day here.  I’ll start by making a pastoral visit to someone just out of the hospital.  They are on the road to recovery, so no worries.  Then it’s Offsite, with blueberry muffins.  Although recently, Phantom has been running low on muffins late in the morning.  It’s getting to the point to where I may one day have to choose between a cranberry nut or a plain bagel.  And really, when that’s your choice, choose “meteor”. 

After Offsite, I will waste gas to Portsmouth where I will meet with the Rev. Pam Mott of St. Mary’s.  Pam’s church is undertaking a building project right now, using a consultant, to try to improve their space.  They’ve got some similar problems to ours, but different also: their campus is very large, and their buildings are much older and more spread out.  It’s not the best set-up for ministry, so Pam has led the church to the decision to build/adapt/change.  Good for her. 

The reason I’m meeting Pam for lunch is that she won’t be able to travel up to Cumberland tonight for our building meeting.  There, two members of Pam’s church will tell us about the process they’ve undertaken, and hopefully answer all the questions we’ll be sure to have.  You have to understand; you come into a church, and you see its upside and its challenges.  Then it grows: new challenges arise, and old challenges either get met or get worse more exacerbated.  The church, as a community, chooses either to keep growing or to go back to where it was before.  I believe, as a community, that there is a strong desire to keep following God in growth.  This simply means that we cannot continue to do all that we do in the same space in which we’ve done it.   

Obviously, there’s much that is still to be done before we have anything really definitive to tell the parish.  All we can say now is that we are investigating the next steps, which I believe include hiring a consultant to lead us through the process from dreaming to feasibility to drawings to pledges to building.  The whole shootin’ match.  Look for updates here, or better, come to church. 

There has to be a morning after…

Minutes after watching Milan Lucic and Mike Komisarik shake hands at center ice, I commented to no one in particular that I felt a void now that the Bruins season is over.  I have to admit, and this may sound silly to all you non-sports-following church geeks out there (that’s said with love), I fell in love with this team.  They never quit.  They never gave in, even after giving up 8 goals at home to Toronto.  I would imagine that the team wanted to challenge Montreal to two more games in hopes of making it a best-of-nine.  Clearly, the best team won; Boston had no rights going to a seventh game.  Montreal just wasn’t as good as everyone thought, and Boston was a little better than they were given credit for.  So after the Caps-Flyers tonight, I will take a break from watching the playoffs for a while, hide in my cave, wonder if they’ll resign Metropolit, thinking who would take Glen Murray for a fifth-round pick.  Maybe that’s the void, the resting.  The resignation that sits and forces you to not do anything.  Maybe this is all too deep; after all, it’s just hockey.

 

Food Courts and Theatres

Yesterday, I spent the latter part of the afternoon schlepping around Providence between a haircut and our night at Trinity Rep.  Haircuts always feel like they take 45 minutes, but really they’re only 20 minutes long.  You sometimes feel relaxed, sometimes sleepy.  You watch people and think catty thoughts.  A little like church.  Afterwards I wandered over to Providence Place to look around.  Sitting in the food court, reading a copy of some commentary on John 14 and slamming down some greasy pizza, I realized that I was in an area not unlike where the early Christians found converts.  If you’ve been to a food court, you’ll see all manners of people, teens, mothers, couples, elderly, etc.  What would happen if four priests sat at various locations of the food court with a little piece of paper on the table that said “Ask me about God.”  If nothing else, it would get people talking. 

I had an hour to kill before Allison met me for the play, so I got to sit outside the Dunk and watch early arrivals to the first Providence Bruins playoff game.  I have no doubt they will go farther than the parent club this year, but again, that’s like saying that Adam Duritz is self-absorbed.  First thing this morning, I went online to check the Journal.  About four clicks later, I found out the Baby Bs won in OT.  Why does the Journal’s “award-winning” website (which must “win” “awards” the way airline magazines win awards) buries the hometown hockey team.  I understand the local fascination with all things Red Sox and Pats, but one thing about online content is that there’s no real space issue.  The hard copy of the paper only has so many inches to give a minor league team for a second-rate sport (others opinions, not mine), but online, there should be big-time coverage.  C’mon, throw a priest a bone.

The play we saw was “Blithe Spirit”.  “Blithe”, I’m pretty sure, is a British word for something.  It sounds like something we would sing in one of our rousing hymns.  All the actors spoke with British accents–not unlike Richard III, the last play we saw at Trinity.  This is not off-putting, but it does take a while to get used to.  Once my ears get accustomed, I usually cannot stop laughing.  That was the case last night; I thoroughly enjoyed the story (does “blithe” mean “whimsical”), the action, the funny clips of lines in dialect.  So walk, no, RUN to get tickets today. 

Ah, blithe means “of a happy or lighthearted disposition”.  It can also mean ‘lacking due thought or consideration’.  Concerning our blithe Episcopal Church here in Rhode Island, if we are to get busy GROWING, we not only need to find out why we exist, but then we need to get out there and sell ourselves.  The food court at the mall is one place.  (It shouldn’t be the place for me though…too much food)  Trinity Rep is another.  Looking at the demographic of the crowds: educated, somewhat affluent, independent thinkers, artsy.  Sounds like a crowd that might feel welcome in most of our churches.  Why aren’t we advertising there?  Why aren’t we a sponsor?  Why aren’t we a presence?

The Sean Schofield Music Train

I have never known a vestry with the musical taste that ours possesses.  From David Freund’s eclectic collection to Ed Greene’s penchant to quote George Clinton or Chuck D at any given time, we’re a pretty groovy crew.  But they can’t hold a candle to Sean Schofield who recently provided me with two new discs, Jack Johnson’s “Sleep Through the Static” and Counting Crows’ “Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings”.  There’s not much better than Jack Johnson if you need to get mellow.  Soothing voice, gentle rythyms and just enough beat and soul to remind you what it’s all for.  I am glad to hear that his lyrics are no less politically and socially informed.  While I won’t quote any, his take on mindless consumption and responsibility-free living are spot-on.  As for Counting Crows, I’ve only had one listen to the new stuff–”Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings” means something different to people who don’t lead worship regularly.  For normal people, it might mean dinner or a movie, followed by a nice sleep in and a crossword puzzle.  For a rock star, it might mean fuzzy adventures with supermodels and hangovers.  For me, it’s gear-up, anxiety, compulsion, excitement, connection and then reflection and withdrawal.  Not always in that order.  So excuse me for not really getting jiggy with the title.  Sean told me last night that CC’s singer, Adam Duritz, was apparently depressed when he wrote this album, so it’s quite introspective.  This is like me saying two weeks ago that Boston didn’t look like it had enough goal-scorers to beat Montreal.  Adam Duritz is depressed (so far as I’ve understood him through his music, that is to say, on the surface at best) like the sky is blue.  It’s a natural state of being.  Just so that we know what to expect. 

And kudos and welcome to Keno Davis, the new coach of the Friars.  I was sorry that Lee Walker didn’t get more of a look, as he had a good year with the East Greenwich JV girls.  I thought I was old when Playboy centerfolds started to be younger than me.  Now I feel old when PC hires a guy who’s 37.  What’s next?  “What time is the early bird special?”

Playoff Beard

Some people asked this past Sunday if I was growing a beard.  In fact, I am not.  However, I am also not shaving, which means that in fact, I am growing a beard.  This is not being done to make me look sexy (as if).  Tradition in hockey dictates that if your team is in the playoffs, you don’t shave until they’re eliminated.  People joked that the Boston-Montreal series would only go three games, but the B’s showed them.  I have a vestry meeting tonight, which means that for the third time in four this series, I won’t get to see the game.  But Boston is 1-1 when this happens; not bad odds.

You should know that the playoff beard is only one of the reasons hockey is the greatest sport on the planet, and perhaps one of the three greatest blessings God gives us.  No other sport really does the playoff beard.  Maybe Lent could be spruced up with Lenten beards. 

Sick Sick Sick

Some of you know that I’ve been under the weather since late Sunday.  I’m back in the office today, not to spread my germs, but to work.  It occurred to me yesterday during one of many ten-minute naps afforded me by my wife and daughter, that for far too many of us, taking a day to recoup is not an option.  For far too many of us, slowing down is not an option.  For far too many of us, our employer would not tolerate us being sick and being un-Americanly unproductive.  So what we get are colds that last two weeks, and bugs that last a month, making their way around the house to the school to the store to the hockey rink to the workplace to the church. 

This is just plain depressing.  When will we say enough?

Finally, only because it’s staring me down from my desk, is the back cover of the most recent Christian Century.  “Saving Jesus” it reads, in ransom-note font.  Living the Questions, the adult ed curriculum best known for being an answer to Alpha, asks if you’ve ever felt that Jesus has been kidnapped by the religious right.  Sure, I have.  But the answer is not to kidnap him back to the religious left.  Another one of their events was a cross-country tour called the Asphalt Gospel.  Here’s a quote: “It tells the story of six ordinary people determined to spread a message of compassion and inclusion in the midst of the intolerance of the Christian Right. “  Hmmm.  What would I think if I saw a DVD put out by Alpha saying that it was spreading a gospel of truth and authority in the midst of the liberal lawlessness of the Christian left?  I’d feel pretty put out. 

 

This Weekend’s Guest at Emmanuel

At Emmanuel, we love having guests.  It’s almost a downer when we know everyone there.  So this week, we’ll introduce a new friend, Keally Dewitt of People’s Power and Light.  Keally and I are going to talk about what PPL does here in Rhode Island and how connected it is to joining God in healing the world.  Please join us at the 10 AM service to welcome Ms. Dewitt.