Addressing the Millennial Church Question - Lenten Devotional 2

We are in the first full week of Lent.  It is a time for intense introspection and for watching where and how the Spirit is moving today.  For this reason, I want to direct you to this blog post asking why millennials are not attending church.

It doesn't beat around the bush.  It addresses one of the issues I have struggled with in my love/hate relationship with the way children's and youth ministry has been done for many years.  I have felt since I was young that inter-generational ministry is of utmost importance.  The majority of congregations simply don't know how to do this anymore.  I have heard our elders often wonder why the sanctuary isn't sacred to the younger generations.  It may partially be because, as the blog author reminds us, children and youth have usually been found in the basement of the building while the adults do church in their own way in the sanctuary. 

The future isn't as bleak as it appears in the aforementioned post, though.  Through Sunday School, VBS and Children's Church, our younger generations have learned to connect with the Divine through music, movement, nature, creative endeavors and outreach mission trips.  This means that people around my age bracket are more likely to experience and express our spirituality in our everyday life, not just on Sunday mornings.  It does have the downside that we often do not really feel like we "fit in" on Sunday morning in a sanctuary or church building.  The question I think our congregations really need to consider is not "why aren't millennials coming to our church?" but instead "how are millennials connecting with the Divine, with other people and with the rest of creation?"

Perhaps, when we consider this, we may not be so hopeless when we look at the demographics of our church attendance.  It may be helpful for us to consider that through the Gen-X, Millennial and younger generations, God is at work in a different way than has been seen in recent history.  Belief in God is not absent, nor is spirituality lacking.  What our congregations might want to ask is how we can learn from our younger generations.  What might the Beloved have to show us through the ways our younger generations are doing "church"?

Our congregational leaders are realizing that without the funding of the younger folks, our buildings may crumble.  They may be sold or downsized or shared. But the truth of the matter is, church has never been about the building.  It is about the people.  Perhaps, through the younger generations, we are being reminded of Emmanuel -- the Presence of God is in our midst, in our everyday lives, in our hearts.  The church building and the structured organization may seem to unravel in the coming years, but the truth is Church will remain, for Church is the people of God revealing Christ's love to the world.

Here in the theological zombie realm, we have been working on remembering who we are and why we are here.  This is the fundamental question that we must ask if we are to be infused with new life.  Although it is a question that we all must ask ourselves individually, it is an essential question for the group that is called the Church.  Who are we?  What is our calling?  How is the Beloved working through us in the world today?

Take heart, dear ones.  This is not the end.  It is simply the birthing pangs of a new creation being infused with the Breath of the Holy Spirit.  The Church is remembering who we are called to be.

Why aren't millennials attending your church?

The American church is obsessed with reaching millennials. Well, at least we are obsessed with talking about it. I’m not entirely convinced we really want to reach them, or…

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Lenten Devotion 1 - What are we Giving Up?

On this second day of Lent, we continue our centering, prayer and devotion.  Many have chosen to give something up for the next forty days until the rise of Eastertide.  Choosing to give something up has long been a way of showing special devotion or respect to our Beloved, or of re-aligning ourselves with Christ's purpose here on the earth.

I recall one year while I was in college that I gave up worrying for Lent.  This took a great deal of energy at first, demanding a large portion of my attention and resolve.  I worked very hard to let go of my need to control the various aspects of my life.  

My marriage, my studies, my work, my ministry, my future, my health, my family -- all of these things were often on my mind swirling in a jumbled mess of worry, chaos or despair.  Each one had to be intentionally released into the arms of One who Loves.  It was sometimes a moment-by-moment act of trust and letting go.

This was incredibly difficult at first.  Somehow in my daily living my mental hands had become like the rubbery tentacles of a giant octopus, tightly wound around each particular detail of my life, then suctioned on with super glue.  I wasn't prepared for the pain in the process that came in the beginning as each individual suction cup was pried away from its treasured possession.  The act could be likened to the detailed work of getting a sweet kitty's claws unstuck from a dearly loved crocheted blanket.  Each fiber in the yarn and each individual claw has to be handled carefully so that the blanket and the kitty both remain in tact.

Photo by TheoZomB

As unprepared as I was for the difficulty of this fast in the beginning, I also was not nearly prepared for how much it would become second nature by the end of the Lenten journey.  I did not realize how much my prayer life would shift after that Lenten fast from worry.  Years later, this devotion still has an impact on my life.

So, when I read today that Pope Francis has a different sort of fast in mind for devoted followers of Christ across the globe, I paid attention.  I have often been finding myself struck by this leader's wisdom and grace.  Today is no different.  Followers of Christ are encouraged to give up indifference for Lent -- to use this time to connect with the pain and suffering of the world.  If you read my Ash Wednesday post, you will see how closely aligned he and I are in this perspective.  I greatly appreciate the way Christopher Hale of Time writes of Pope Francis' invitation:

"...when we fast from this indifference, we can began to feast on love. In fact, Lent is the perfect time to learn how to love again. Jesus—the great protagonist of this holy season—certainly showed us the way. In him, God descends all the way down to bring everyone up. In his life and his ministry, no one is excluded."

Fasting opens us up for feasting.  Lent is the perfect time to learn how to love again.  Truly, it is a time to remember who we are.

So, dear ones, what are you giving up for Lent?  Or what are you taking on?  No matter what it is, my prayer is that our Lenten devotions may bring us closer to our Creator, closer to one another and closer to the whole of creation.  May this be a time of letting go of our old ways of being; may it be a time of remembering who we are.

A Service of Ashes

Ash Wednesday is one of the most powerful days of the Christian year.  We remember that we are, indeed, mortal beings in a finite world held together simply through the breath, grace and love of our Creator. On Ash Wednesday, everything and everyone is laid bare.

About a decade ago, one of the little babies that I nannied, (the first tiny infant I had held since my own miscarriages) died on Ash Wednesday. I received the news at the end of my preschool teaching that morning, only moments before the noontide service was to begin upstairs in the church sanctuary. My parents were meeting me at the service. My dad look at me when I walked in and he knew what had happened. The sweet infant's heart surgery that morning had gone terribly wrong.

My dad held me close to his own heart as we remained in the narthex listening to the familiar Ash Wednesday liturgy -- words that had swept over me from my own infancy years. We cried together over the poignancy of those words reflecting on our mortality and the suffering in the world. My parents and I walked down the aisle, an aisle we had walked down together in joy only a few years before as I married my high school sweetheart. I walked that aisle knowing that, for me and for all who loved that little baby, nothing would ever be the same.

Walking down that aisle, I faced mortality head on. As I received the sign of ashes on my forehead, the senior minister and I looked at each other through bloodshot, tear-filled eyes. His voice was a trembling whisper. "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Even in the midst of my deepest shock, those words struck me to my core.

Now, a decade later, the words strike deeply again, as only a couple of months ago, I held my father's ashes in my hands before they were laid to rest on a sunny day in the midst of winter.

On Ash Wednesday, we remember our mortality. We remember the suffering in the world. We acknowledge our fears, our shortcomings and our sadness.

In our remembrance and intentions during the Lenten season that begins today, we speak of death without hesitation. We cry out at the pain, suffering and injustice in our world. We walk the road of shadows, pricking our fingers on the thorns and getting down on our hands and knees in the mud and muck of life. We remember who we are. And in so doing, we open ourselves up to the possibility of breathing in new life.

The joy and triumph of Easter means nothing without the sting of death. So, my sisters and brothers, may we not be hasty to embrace the light. Walk with me along this road of shadows. Let us stumble together along the pathway of Lent.

A Child Leads the Way

I have been slowly digesting the delicious words of Mary Oliver's Selected Poems. Her work comes recommended by several of my closest companions along life's pathway. Today I have come upon a piece of work entitled "Mindful" that reflects my own interaction with the world.

When I was a little girl, I found myself often wandering away from the large crowds. Off into the little patch of "wilderness" I would go, into the small wooded area found in the park and the middle school behind my childhood home. There I would have respite from the nine plus people living in our house, and there I would find the Divine.

Photo by Theological Zombie - All rights reserved.

In the swimming tadpoles making their way down the little creek bed, in the dance of the scampering chipmunks as they stored their nuts and seeds for the winter, in the open wing of the robin and the hawk as they dove this way and that above my head – there, I would encounter my Beloved. Although remembering such times brings up memories that are perhaps less than pleasant, the experiences I had in these "wilderness times" were precious and life-giving. Remembering these things helps me remember what it is that once fueled my passion for ministry and comforting others. This causes a light, that has been dimming for some time now, to grow brighter once more.

“The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.” – These promises that came through Isaiah have been interpreted as speaking of the Christ child. Today, however, I am thinking of them in a different way. The child within has the antidote of peace.

Our memories are often at war with one another. Some, like a wolf, threaten to devour us whole, eating us from the inside out. Others, like a leopard, are quick to dart away and vicious when hungry or feeling cornered. The parts of us that are joyful and life-giving, like the lambs and the kids, are often chased into the recesses of our inner beings. We spend so much of our energy trying to keep the wolf and the leopard at bay that we forget to feed the lamb and the kid. In the process, we forget who we were created to be. The zombie virus of frantic activity and fear spreads through our veins causing us to loose sight of the delight that our Beloved has always had in us.

What is it, dear ones, that brings you joy? What caused your heart to leap like a young calf birthed in a stall when you were younger? Does that have an impact on what you are currently doing?

When we meditate on such things, dear ones, the child within begins to stir. The inner child that has been sleeping with a fever through the onslaught of the zombie virus hears the calling of the Christ who, from the beginning, has been stroking their hair whispering “Little one, arise.”

...It is what I was born for -

      to look, to listen,

to loose myself

   inside this soft world -

      to instruct myself

         over and over

in joy

   and acclamation...

Excerpt from “Mindful” by Mary Oliver.  Found on page 90 in New and Selected Poems, Volume Two. Boston: Beacon Press, 2005.

New Life for a Frozen Brain

Grace to you, dear ones ~

I have spent much of the last couple of years adjusting to a new life here in Portland, Oregon.  Although it was my childhood town, I had been away for over seven years pursuing the last part of my BA and then my MA at seminary in Seattle.  The majority of my time back home was devoted to caring for my dear father as he prepared to pass from life to Life.  That transition happened this summer, the day before my birthday.  We have just passed three months since he died.

In the time since his passing, I often felt much like the walking dead.  No purpose.  No dream.  No hope for the future.  All was simply numb.  These effects of shock - which is our normal human response to the trauma of death - has only in recent weeks begun to dissipate.  My brain and emotions, it seemed, were in a cryogenic state - frozen in time at my Daddy's death bed.  Both have begun to thaw.  The time of healing has now begun.

For those of you who may be experiencing the loss of a loved one, or the deep shadows of grief as you care for an ailing parent or sibling, I write to offer you companionship.  New life, I am convinced, can be found when we tend one another's hearts.  I am here to walk beside you, accepting you with your permafrost brain, erratic emotional swings and physical aches that are a manifestation of your grief.  We will get through this together.  We will learn to live again.

"I have come that you might have life and have it to the fullest measure." -- Jesus says.

We have a promise from the Living Christ that new life is coming.  I am convinced that this is a deep, cosmological truth.  All life, from the smallest fruit fly to the greatest mammoth and basilosaurus, and everything in between, will all find newness and resurrection in the time to come.  For now, I am thankful to be receiving a small preview of this new life with the slow, gentle resurrection in my frozen grief brain.

I will do my best to write here once a week, both to walk with you and to record my own journey of resurrection.

Photo by Trista Wynne - Zombie 5K -- Dayton, OR -- October 2013 

A Zombie Learns to Love

Greetings, dear ones!

I apologize that it has been so long since I've posted here.  I have been more faithful with my prayer blog over the last several months, so I hope you have been enjoying the posts there.  

Perhaps I ought to post something on independence.  People across my country are likely posting about that today. I don't want to talk about independence and the pride of the motherland, though.  I want to address an issue of interdependence -- let's talk about love.

During much of my life, I have witnessed people around me being willing to give up everything that they are, and everything that they have, in order to please someone else.  These martyrs-of-sorts (admittedly used to be one, thinking that I was following the "proper" way of the Christian) will cease to have opinions about things because it will cause tension. They will not speak up when they feel violated. They do not listen to the internal voice that says the other is harmful to be around, and they are often attracted to the very people who will take advantage of their willingness to give.  

"Zombie Love" - Photo by Trista Wynne

This is life-taking-zombie-love, dear ones.  This is not the life-giving love that Christ offers.  This is not the rejuvenating way of the Beloved.

Loving others is not the same as allowing ourselves to become door mats. We do need to listen to the intuitive part of ourselves that lets us know whether a person is safe or whether they would be harmful or toxic for us to be around on a regular basis. If we allow others to hurt us, (particularly if we allow continuous abuse in verbal, physical or sexual forms) then we are allowing the other person's spirit to destroy itself and we are not caring for ourselves. Self-effacement is not love. True love includes self-care.

What's in our Eyes?

I've been writing more often in my prayer blog lately than on here, but today's awful events bring me back into the realm of violence, theology and questions.  I posted in the prayer blog about a shooting that happened in the nearby Clackamas Town Center earlier this week.  Now, only a few days later we hear about a terrible tragedy in Connecticut.

Images, sound clips and heart-breaking accounts of today's events leave us feeling numb and hopeless.  A steady stream of political posturing and religious rants have been flooding my Facebook news feed all day.  It is sad how quickly we can manipulate a tragedy into a tool for our own agendas.  We have violence towards one another in our eyes.

We have a hard time simply sighing as a nation and grieving together.  We are immediately looking for someone or something to blame.  (Yes, I include myself in this.  I said, "we".  Although I refrained from posting throughout the day, my mind went all over, too...)  We have destruction in our eyes.

Tonight, though, as the reactions begin to simmer down and the soul searching begins, I am reminded that perfect love casts out fear.

The Zombie Student Speaks: An Ascension Sunday Message

Greetings, dear ones!

Earlier today I delivered the sermon for St Peter's UMC.  Although I didn't mention zombies in this particular sermon, the message is clear: let's stop biting and clawing one another in the Church and move closer to unity through the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  Many of us forget our identities as children of our Heavenly Father, and we neglect or abuse our brothers and sisters in Christ in thought, word and deed.  Committee meetings are notorious for such behavior!

I'm certain that our Lord Jesus knew exactly what was coming, and that's why He called the disciples (and now calls us) to sit down and watch for the movement of the Holy Spirit.  Sit down and wait.  Sit down until you are filled with My Presence, He says. I promise to guide you.  Just watch and wait for my Spirit.  She will guide you when the Father and I send her to you.

As we prepare for the season of Pentecost, dear ones, I pray that we all will take time to sit, to watch and to wait for the Spirit to lead us.  Only then will we remember who, and whose, we are.  Here, dear ones, is my sermon.  Watch and wait.  I'll do the same.  Then, together we can enter the future which God has prepared for us.  Remember, no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love God. These things have been, are being, and will be revealed through the Holy Spirit who searches all -- even the very deepest places within God (1 Cor. 2:9-10).

Hide & Seek for Zombies

The kiddo I nanny loves to search for bugs.  In the big rock pile in their backyard, the child picks up a rock, looks underneath to see what's there, and then marks the rock with a piece of chalk.  When a bug is found, the child laughs and does a special dance in celebration of the life that was discovered.  The child's joy is contagious!

What distinguishes the living from the living dead?  Certainly there are a lot of things.  The distinguishing mark that I'd like to focus on today is the difference between following and seeking.

One of the sad trends in the American Christian church across the denominations is a lethargy in worship and missiology.  We tend to focus on a personal relationship with Jesus Christ as though it were the only thing that Jesus meant when He said, "follow me".

One of my dear friends this weekend, at a Unitarian Universalist fellowship, gave a homily on Proverbs 8.  This being one of my favorite passages (particularly as it relates to John 1) and she, being a very dear friend, I was eager to hear what she had to say.  The main focus of her message was the same as Wisdom's call to Her followers: "seek and you will find".  My friend encouraged her fellowship to seek after Wisdom, to be on the look-out for this thing called "God" and to ask lots of questions.  We who were listening were encouraged to not be complacent in our spirituality, to rise up and discover something new about ourselves, to allow ourselves to be challenged and to grow in unexpected ways through this spiritual, playful game of hide-and-seek with a jovial, loving Creator.

Under Construction

Matt & I at the Summer '09
Zombie Walk in Seattle
Photo by http://nightzero.com/

This site is under construction.  I've been experimenting with a new look for this blog.  It has taken a while to re-adjust the content and gadgets so it all flows together nicely.  I may still be working out some kinks for a bit, so please be patient.Navigating a construction zone can be incredibly frustrating.  Working on the construction can be just as difficult.

Today I'm thinking about the 520 bridge connecting Bellevue to Seattle over Lake Washington.  The bridge, and a large section of road on either side of it, is closed this weekend.  Long lines of traffic are backed up crossing the I-90 bridge and the sun is beating down on all of the cars.  Despite the electronic signs indicating for weeks that construction was imminent, drivers still get upset while they're waiting for the renewed roadway to open up.

What's in the Mirror?

ZomBcon Prep - Oct 2010

Looking at myself in the mirror before a recent zombie walk in Seattle, I laid the foundation for the bloodied zombie that was later reflected therein.  Sometimes I wonder what we as a church might see if we looked together in a mirror.  I wonder if we really know how we are perceived.

What might we see if we did some self-reflection?  Would we like what we see?  Do we want others to see us this way?  Do we have bloodstains and sunken eye sockets or are we full of life and vitality?What would we change if we could? 

A Simple Zombie Credo

The following was just posted in response to a comment on ZombieTheology.  I invite you to read the post here, and then to continue reading this one.

**********

Dear Sonny ~

You said,

“Zombie Theology isn’t about finding cool walking dead references in the Scriptures (we’ll have fun with some of that, who can resist?), it’s about the disease. How it’s contracted,how it’s spread from host to host. How they can be stopped (got to shoot them in the Soul, their head) and the most important question of all, how do we cure ourselves once we are bitten by the overwhelming Zombie Army?”

Here, dear one, is the gospel: we don’t have the cure. God does. The cure came in the form of Jesus Christ and is being distributed by the Holy Spirit breathed into the world as Jesus breathed His last. Jesus came to resurrect our imaginations, to give our brain-dead appetites something other than each other to gnaw on. One day, all of creation and all of humanity will remember the goodness and freedom it was crafted with. We look forward to that day.

You are right when you say that many Christians are acting in ways that resemble zombies. We are part of a world that is infected with the virus, (or the toxin, or the radiation, whatever imagery we find in zombie literature can be applied). We’re born into it, we’re raised by infected beings, and we’re exposed to it every day. The zombie infection is everywhere. It’s what gives all humans (and other animals, for that matter) a tendency towards violence, self-preservation, destruction of others and other behaviors that are not conducive to societal uplifting.

Touch a New Perspective

I love music!  I have since I was a little girl.  Singing along to my parent's LPs of the Beach Boys or Peter, Paul & Mary, my ears and vocal chords have been trained to pick out harmonies, to match cadence and to blend well with others from a very young age. 

Since I have graduated from college, I have added a few instruments to my musical endeavors.  You may have seen the photo of my hand drumming in an earlier post, or a photo of my sweet twelve-string which I have used to lead worship for two and a half years.  Despite my love for music, walking in to an instrument store used to depress me.

Oh I loved the instruments and the shine and the sounds, but I was always held back by something.  I couldn't see myself playing these great works of craftsmanship.  As far as I was concerned, the precious instruments were always  meant for somebody else, someone who had more time, more talent, more money to spend.  I would never even look at the instruments that were at eye level, only those close to the floor or on the clearance rack.  That's what I allowed myself to touch.

Zombie Women Unite!

"Zombie Women Drum!"
Photo by Matt Wynne

The Fremont Solstice Festival is an expression of joy and freedom birthed out of a love for the arts.  My husband and I very much enjoy the culture and atmosphere in the Fremont neighborhood of Seattle.  (Perhaps one day we'll live there; for now we simply visit when we can.)  Today Matt and I participated in the Solstice Parade, which inaugurates the beautiful days of summer.  It is our third year of drumming for Delilah's bellydancers, and we love it!  My body, mind and spirit are consistently rejuvinated through my interactions with the women who dance as well as the men and women who drum for them.

Likewise, when I attend a local women's drum circle each month, I almost always come away feeling unburdened.  I stand taller, breathe more easily, think more clearly and love more fully as a result.  These gatherings allow a fullness of self-expression, creative energy and a whole-bodied seeking after a Source beyond ourselves.  To be honest, it has been a while since I've experienced a similar feeling in a corporate worship gathering.  I look for it, and the search will go on, but I suspect that the kind of gathering I am looking for is more like a large family than a corporate gathering in a distant building.

Attacking our own Reflections

It's crazy, isn't it?  This bird is endlessly attacking its own reflection in the window.  No matter how many times it slams its beak against the glass, it will not remove the perceived threat.  It is only weakening itself, and potentially depriving its young of their parent.  The next generation may not have life because this generation is exhausting itself in futile attempts to protect itself.

My Icon

Greetings, fellow zombie theologians!

I'm delighted to share an icon design with you for this site.  If you have read the first couple of posts here, you know that I am an artist as well as a student of theology and a zombie lover.  My second post, Working on the Art, linked to a beautiful tattoo design that I located on the web.  A bit of my theological observations regarding the bio hazard sign can be found in that post.  Building on that, I was inspired to craft my own icon.  You can find it below:

Theological Zomnbie Student Icon - Acrylic on Paper - Art by Trista L. Wynne - 5 June 2011

Living in a Zombie World

As part of my seminary instruction and preparation for ministry, one of our required classes at Fuller Northwest is Homiletics.  In this preaching course, we are given the opportunity to preach for one another and to hear future pastors in action.  For my second sermon, I chose a passage from Paul's letter to the Ephesians in which he is reminding that fledgling congregation that because they know the hope that is found in Christ Jesus, they are called to act in ways that are different from the dark, tumultuous world around them. 

Opening our Minds (Yum!)

Grace and peace to you!

It has been a dream of mine to merge my love of zombie culture and Christianity into one place for several years.  I hope to compose a scholastic, culturally-rich book exploring Scripture through a zombie-tinted lens with the new generation of church in mind. Until my publishing dream becomes a reality, I will endeavor to post notes, homilies, thoughts and visions here. I invite you to join me as we ponder the resurrection of the body, the apocalyptic discussions infusing our local media, the fractured society in which we find ourselves, and the general malaise which threatens much of our culture today.  Church and zombies are not so far apart as it seems at first glance.  Let's explore this overlap together.