In the front yard of our new home there’s been a large tree, pretty with its purple leaves. Come to find out, it’s a Canadian Cherry tree. I can’t tell you how old, but probably decades, given its size.
The arborist said it’s not indigenous, not a natural fit to the area, and therefore isn’t optimal to be planted in these parts. He said, “If it’s not unhealthy yet, it will get that way and need to be taken down. It won’t be a good use of your resources to try to keep it.”
A week ago Charlie, our tree guy, made his first assessment, and at first glance deemed it be okay. But when he looked more closely, he saw that one branch had the dreaded fungus.
The lack of fit for its environment, after years and years of standing as part of this home space, had sadly come to fruition.
We knew the tree had to come down. After all those years of it being there, it was gone in about 30 minutes.
I went across the street to my neighbor’s yard and for as long as I could stand watching the dismantling of this beautiful part of creation I observed the process, struck by how quick the undoing of something so longstanding can be.
As I sat there watching this part of the landscape of our home coming to its end, it occurred to me how similar it is to our current affiliation discernment, whether to keep parts of the landscape of our NCC home since its beginning.
I don’t know if there will be any such alterations to our landscape, and I’m certainly not insinuating our lovely affiliated denominations are diseases!
Nonetheless, there were some parallels.
Longstanding affiliations, planted at the time of our creation. If you’re not looking closely, seems fine – been there forever. But aspects of this tree of affiliations maybe don’t fit with where or who we are. Maybe the choice to retain wouldn’t be in our best interest.
We don’t know what the outcome of our discernment will be. Let us acknowledge, though, that the thought of letting go of some or all of those branches is sobering.
It’s what we’ve known, and transitions aren’t always easy.
It makes things look different. I’m still adjusting to the new landscape at home.
Concern about things looking different for NCC is something that a couple of us have commented on throughout this period of discernment.
It happened to be in the context of Christian Unitarianism… “How would it look if we became Christian UUs?”
It’s a valid question…what would it say about us if we add that branch?
That’s a what-if question. There’s also a what-now question to ask ourselves. What has been, what is, and what are we going to do about it now?
I’m speaking not so much about keeping our current affiliations, but instead about how engaged we’ve been with them.
My understanding, having talked to many of you about this, is that there hasn’t been much affiliating with our affiliations since the beginning.
Several people – current and past members – have stated that through the years the congregation seems to have liked not being very tethered to any of them.
Betty tells me that early on the United Church of Christ provided much presence to our fledgling congregation, with resources and offerings of support.
When leadership didn’t embrace those offerings, they eventually went away.
There have been two instances between that time of beginning and the present day when we leaned-in to our affiliated denominations.
One is when we needed an interim minister. The Disciples supplied Bryan Burris. The other is when we needed a denomination to give me standing, and the Presbyterians provided that.
Both of these instances were times of need when we emerged out of the woodwork, like a relative that you only hear from when they need something.
That may sound a bit harsh. It’s not meant to be a criticism, but an observation.
In a true relationship like ours, such honest conversations can and must occur.
My goal is to help guide you/us in self-reflection, to foster a thoughtful, authentic process replete with such observations.
And finally (hopefully) to assist us in arriving at healthy and sustaining outcomes from a robust and authentic process.
Here are some authentic/hold-a-mirror-up-to-ourselves questions to ponder:
- Do you think that we’ve floated between the lines of denominations, not really grounded in any?
- Do you think this has been an unspoken/unexamined preference for us?
- If so, do you find this lack of tethering appealing?
As with most things, there are pros and cons.
An upside is there’s seemingly more freedom and less pressure – to have to engage in activities, interface with other like-congregations.
It’s easier to roll along with theological incongruence, because nobody’s really giving any of it much attention.
In the minister role there are certainly perks for being left alone to do your thing.
But here’s the thing about doing your own thing.
I believe it leaves us with less grounding, less identity and sense of belonging to something bigger. Community becomes more insular and less connected.
Keep in mind that while this could apply to even having affiliations at all (versus being non-denominational)…
I’m speaking about lack of engagement while being affiliated.
While we might feel grounded in our progressive faith – and we are – Progressive Christianity isn’t a denomination to which you can turn in times of need for ministerial standing and interims (and more).
My imperative this morning isn’t about the take down of any particular branch, or the entire tree of our current affiliations.
It’s to encourage us to examine how we’ve approached these relationships to date, and to challenge us about how we want to proceed moving forward.
See if you can get my answer to this ‘Do we want meaningful affiliation?’ question by the story I’ll now share.
Years ago, when my kids were quite young, I had a conversation with my dear friend Wendy as I was asking her to be a godparent to Madi and Nathan – i.e., raising them if something unforeseen happened.
She, a devoted Jewish woman, said she definitely would.
Then she added, almost with a hint of a warning, “But if this happens, you need to know that I would raise your kids to be Jewish.”
I think my response surprised her. I said, “That’s absolutely fine. Just make sure you raise them to be devoted Jewish people, the best Jews they can be.”
The same applies to our affiliations…let this important part of who we are and who we present ourselves to be in the world… let it be meaningful.
Let us be mindfully, cheerfully engaged.
Betty, the face of our history, has said time and again, let us decide on denomination or denominations based not on the happenstance of our history, but on the examination of our present and on the aspirations for our future. I wholeheartedly agree.
You notice the denomination or denominations differentiation. Part of what we’re discerning is how many to be tethered to.
I wonder if the multiple-denomination approach has fostered our lack of engagement in any direction. It’s like in a college classroom setting…it’s much easier to be invisible in a lecture hall with 200 students than in a classroom with only five students.
Engagement, belonging, connection, accountability, (being counted)…all these things are vastly different when it’s more singular versus a plethora.
What does meaningful engagement with the mothership look like?
Interfacing with fellow clergy, attending annual meetings and retreats, using their resources, gathering with others for worship, joining in mission efforts, happily contributing through per capita contribution because it means something.
Opposite of the absent-until-in-need relative, this is like knowing that supporting good parents strengthens the entire family.
I think it’s harder to meaningfully focus when our gaze is in multiple directions.
Maybe a deeper level of denominational engagement doesn’t seem to offer as much independence, and you savor the idea of freedom.
Rev. Scott Taylor spoke to this when he said:
Freedom is not about the absence of all constraints, but instead about being able to stay tethered to the things that have our heart. Being clear about our core values is a big part of this. The more distant or blurry our core values become, the easier it is to be lured by and trapped in priorities and projects of someone else’s making. This is why the work of repeatedly reacquainting ourselves with our values matters so much. Keeping them close and clear keeps us free.
Which values have our heart?
Which denominations best share our values as we continue our sacred journey?
What does freedom mean in this case, and what do we aspire to in our pursuit to be free?
I’ll wrap up with the following words from Peter Marshall:
May freedom be seen, not as the right to do as we please, but as the opportunity to do what is right.