erin, Author at Reformation 4.0

April 8, 2020April 8, 2020

Confessing the Sins Done on Our Behalf

Phew! We made it to final week of Lent! (Although, I’m pretty sure it won’t feel like Easter till quarantine is over . . . )

This week, we’ll be finishing the confession series by talking about a new category of things to confess: the sins done on our behalf.

Sins Committed by the Church

A few years ago, I visited Washington, D.C. on a university-sponsored professional development trip. A staff member from a small, D.C. Episcopal church was kind enough to show me around.

He gave me a tour of the sanctuary and pointed upstairs, to the balcony. I’d never seen one like that in a church before. “Many churches in the South have one,” he said. “They were built for the slaves.”

church balcony — Photo by Fabrizio Verrecchia on Unsplash

That’s obviously a shockingly concrete illustration of the sins committed on that church’s behalf. Slaveowners almost certainly contributed heavily to build and maintain its endowment, and thus made it viable today. Slave labor certainly generated a bulk of that money.

Not to mention, the balcony serves as a visible reminder of Christians’ theological endorsement of segregation, something that furthered the oppression of millions of African-Americans over centuries.

Maybe your church also has visible reminders of the sins done on your behalf. Or perhaps it’s more subtle.

For churches that are against alcohol consumption or violence, it might be an investment portfolio that includes those manufacturers. Or maybe your denomination used to exclude certain classes of people from ordination or marriage, in ways that your congregation regrets.

Some churches and religious organizations are already exploring this theme, primarily around race and slavery. Virginia Theological Seminary, which was built by slaves, began reparations funds for African-American clergy and descendants of slaves that worked on campus. Princeton Theological Seminary, which received donations from Southern plantation owners, opened a similar fund for an endowed chair.

Of course, slavery and racism aren’t the only examples. Sometimes, the sins done on our behalf are less specific to one congregation and more general to our faith as a whole.

Person holding globe — Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

On a research project for my university’s religion department, I encountered old course catalogs from the early 1900s. The Religion department had offered classes for aspiring missionaries preparing to travel to Africa and Asia. The language in the course descriptions describing unchurched populations and their native religions, made my stomach churn.

Of course, my religion department is far from the only institution that cultivated a narrative of whites’ religious superiority. As a Christian, I am participating in an institution that historically treated entire races of people as savages in need of conversion.

There are any number of financial, political, and theological actions that the Church has profited from, at the expense of others. They are painful and humbling examples of sins that the Church has committed on behalf of its faithful.

Sins Committed by our Country

American flag — Photo by Lucas Sankey on Unsplash

In a Christian context, it’s important to start with the sins done on our behalf by the Church. But we can experience the same disconnect through our political systems, too.

You probably pay taxes that fund something that you believe is unjust. If you’re a conservative Catholic, it’s Planned Parenthood. If you’re a Quaker, it’s the war in Afghanistan.

Regardless of what you believe or your political leanings, most Christians can probably agree that the government is committing sins on their behalf, with their tax dollars. Simply by living as part of a diverse and civilized society, we end up funding things that don’t line up with our values as followers of Christ.

Dollars — Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

Again, whatever your persuasions, you probably feel that political leaders are committing sins, using your welfare as a justification for doing so. That’s something worth confessing.

Sins Committed by our Society

Anyone else watching The Good Place right now? (SPOILERS AHEAD–scroll below the tomato picture to avoid). In this fictional universe, each human being is judged by a point system. Every action contributes a positive or negative value that eventually determines admittance to The Good Place or The Bad Place.

The problem is, no one has gotten into The Good Place since the 1500s. At the end of the third season, the demon Michael finally figures out why.

The world has grown so complex that a single action, no matter how well-intentioned, will inevitably have negative consequences. “These days,” Michael explains, “just buying a tomato at a grocery store means that you are unwittingly supporting toxic pesticides, exploiting labor, and contributing to global warming!”

Tomatoes representing the sins done on our behalf — Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

The show rightly points out that, simply by living in today’s multifacted world, we commit sins. My congregation, for example, has professed a religious commitment to the environment. Yet it’s almost impossible for us to exist without a carbon footprint. We can’t completely eliminate our emissions, waste, or pollution.

And, in doing so, we hurt the earth. We hurt climate refugees. We hurt those too poor to protect themselves from the health consequences.

For our congregation, then, that’s something to confess. And that just covers ecological sins! There are so many other systems that are hard, if not impossible, to avoid.

So if we’re serious about repenting of the “sins done on our behalf,” then we need to include the ones we commit just by being a part of society.

How do we confess the sins done on our behalf?

Church pulpit — Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

First of all, as with all kinds of confession, it’s crucial to limit shaming and guilt. People in your congregation might have no idea that certain injustices ever happened at all. Or they might not understand how they contributed to it or profit from it. Gentle, compassionate education will enable humble repentance.

Also, not everyone is going to have the same idea of what constitutes “sins done on our behalf,” especially in the realm of politics. Hammering out exact lists could just alienate and inadvertently create more judgment.

Instead, it’s helpful begin with an example or two that is not too charged. Find a local issue everyone can agree on, like a landfill being put in a poor neighborhood. From there, it might be easier to move on to stickier topics.

Trash on beach — Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash

So, too, it’s important to focus on disavowing the act, without judging the people who do the acts. Everyone is a beloved child of God, even when their actions are antithetical to our belief in justice and mercy. That’s a fine line to walk.

And, finally, it’s important to strike a balance between mourning and action. All sins call for mourning, as we return to communion with God, ourselves, and our neighbors. Some sins also call for changed behavior, like creating investment portfolios that align more clearly with your values.

But other kinds of sins done on our behalf might not be able to be helped at all—places where our tax money goes, for example. These are the ones where mourning must be the predominant response.

Priest holding palm branches — Photo by Grant Whitty on Unsplash

I hope you’ve found this confession series useful and thought-provoking as we’ve journeyed throughout this rather unconventional Lent. Is there anything about dealing with COVID-19 that has shaped your understanding of confession?

What was helpful? What wasn’t? Let me know in the comments!

And give me a shout out on social media if there’s anything in particular you’d like to hear about after Easter. COVID-19-related resources? Something non-pandemic-related? Let me know!

April 1, 2020April 1, 2020

Experiences of Lament: Unburdening from Trauma in the 21st Century Church

Welcome back to Week 6 of the Confession series! I’m hoping this article finds you and your family safe and healthy.

Not too long ago, experiences of deep trauma and lament were something to be confessed. Getting an abortion or divorcing an abusive husband, for example, was considered sinful in most churches. And rather than responding with compassion, many congregations heaped shame upon the victims in situations like sexual abuse or suicide.

But the last few decades have seen a seismic transformation in mainline thinking. Thankfully, these types of difficult situations–experiences of lament–are now often seen as events that require extra levels of pastoral care, not confession.

Woman leaning her head on another man's shoulder — Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

This shift has taken place across a variety of domains—from seminary education to theological literature to denominational policy. But in practice, in our congregations, these experiences of lament have moved into a kind of grey zone.

They don’t belong in confession anymore (thank goodness!). But they’re also not acknowledged or discussed elsewhere.

Two weeks ago, I talked about House for All Sinners and Saints, a church in Denver. Here’s a quick recap: After the sermon, the congregation writes down their prayers and confessions. Worship leaders then read them aloud during prayers of the people.

Woman's eyes closed with glittery eyeshadow — Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

People definitely confessed remorse for actions they considered sins—speaking harshly to a loved one, for example. But there was also a different kind of unburdening going on, too.

One of my interviewees gave me the best example: “Someone said the other day, ‘I just had an abortion, and I’m glad, but also really sad.’”

People were also unburdening themselves of difficult decisions or experiences—experiences of lament—that weren’t necessarily sins. And they were able to do so without the burden of shame and guilt so often associated with confession and forgiveness.

This kind of unburdening carries many of the same pastoral issues as confession does. Both require privacy and sometimes anonymity. Both often involve mourning. Both sometimes call for healing and pastoral support.

Person massaging a man's shoulder — Photo by Jesper Aggergaard on Unsplash

But they are also very different from each other. For instance, experiences of lament are much more likely to manifest from traumatic situations than in the day-to-day decisions.

I don’t have the training to tell clergy how to pastorally support people who do come forward to talk about experiences of lament. That’s not the point of today’s article.

My goal, rather, is to seed a shift in church culture so that people feel comfortable coming forward and unburdening themselves in the first place. For churches to be relevant, it’s necessary–and all too often very far from the norm.

Person having an experience of lament on the floor — *Photo by* Imani Clovis on Unsplash

Among many of my Millenniel/Gen Z friends, if they were the victim of abuse or experiencing mental health issues, a clergy-person would be the last person they would turn to.

Even people in your congregation might not feel comfortable doing so, especially if they’ve seen victim-blaming from churches before. So how do we change that?

Preaching About Experiences of Lament

The first and most important thing is to definitively distinguish between what is a person’s responsibility and what is not. In other words, draw a clear line between what calls for repentance and what is, instead, an experience of lament. Churches victim-blamed for so long—and so many still do—that there is massive confusion and misunderstanding about what churches think what is a sin.

This problem is compounded by the upsetting lack of conversation about hard topics like abortion and divorce.

Person having experiences of lament looking out a rainy window — Photo by Saneej Kallingal on Unsplash

Let me give you an example. I have visited four or five mainline services where Matthew 5:27-32 came up in the lectionary. That’s the passage on adultery and divorce in the Sermon on the Mount. Since divorce affects 50% of U.S. marriages and two-thirds of American children, it’s fair to assume that it’s a relevant subject in most congregations.

Most of these churches’ pastors faithfully preached on the Gospel lectionary every single week. But when this text came up, their sermons turned into the Super Bowl of defensive avoidance techniques.

One changed the lectionary readings to avoid having it read at all. One preached on the Hebrew Testament reading exclusively. One actually preached on another part of the Sermon on the Mount that wasn’t even in the lectionary that week.

And, unfortunately, one pastor decided to preach on the text but got so flustered that he couldn’t preach a clear message. He ended up waffling on whether people in abusive marriages should leave their partners.

Man holding his shoulder in the darkness — Photo by Mitchell Hollander on Unsplash

I believe that most mainline pastors are ultimately supportive and loving towards people who are going through traumatic situations. The pastors I know would unconditionally support survivors and victims, and they would do so spectacularly.

But despite being adept at private pastoral care, many pastors still don’t feel comfortable talking about those experiences of lament from the pulpit. And I’m concerned about that.

Because if pastors treat these topics as taboo in public, very few people will feel comfortable coming forward to discuss them in private.

Especially when topics like sexual assault or suicide come up in the lectionary or the news, they have to be addressed head-on. Sidestepping them implicitly declares them taboo and invites shame to grow.

Woman hiding her hair with her face — Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

One important caveat: taking a right-or-wrong stance on thorny issues, like abortion, creates “sides” that can alienate people who disagree with you. Instead of declaring a set postion, perhaps focus on addressing the pastoral issues that come up from these situations. That might actually bring your congregation into deeper connection and belonging.

On non-controversial issues, like abusive marriages or sexual assault, I’d encourage you to openly show your support for the safety of the abused. All too often, the church has traditionally condemned victims, and in the mainstream American media, they still have a reputation for doing so. Clearly announcing your advocacy for the protection of victims is crucial to changing the narrative about churches being a haven for those lamenting.

Making room for Experiences of Lament

I recently received a newsletter from my church in the wake of the coronavirus. It gave me a really helpful model for inviting people to seek pastoral care after experiences of lament. At the bottom of the newsletter, a note read, “We want to know if any member of our congregation becomes infected. If you or a loved one does become ill from the coronavirus, please reach out.”

That kind of statement is exactly the sort of thing that can encourage someone to reach out and unburden themselves. It could say something like, “If something difficult or traumatic is happening in your life, I want to know so that I can support you. Please email me or call to set up an appointment.”

Statements like that might show up in your bulletin, newsletters, and announcements. When that becomes the norm, it will invite people to see the Church as one of their first resources in the midst of a difficult decision or situation.

Phone and laptop — Photo by Austin Distel on Unsplash

Experiences of lament are no longer things to confess in mainline Protestantism. Denominational policies and theology have shifted from blaming victims to providing pastoral care. But these experiences still need a place in our church conversations.

How can your church strengthen its pastoral response to experiences of lament? How might it become more open? How are you already encouraging this unburdening in your community?

Much love to all of you as we head into Holy Week. If you’re a layperson, checking in with your pastor to ask if you can help them out is such a gift. If you’re clergy, remember you don’t have to do everything by yourself—in the age of COVID-19, there are amazing resources for everyone to share!

March 25, 2020March 25, 2020

Protestants, Let’s Give Individual Confession Another Chance

Growing up, individual confession was a relic of another time in another Church. I’d seen examples in movies like Sound of Music and The Nun’s Story. My Protestant grandmother told me about being left in the car each week as a teenager, while her Catholic friend was forced to go confession with her family.

Another friend, who had memorized the Latin Mass in its entirety as a pre-Vatican II altar boy, entertained me with stories of made-up confessions to prank the priests. But from the perspective of the twenty-first century, individual confession didn’t feel very relevant, even in the Masses I attended with friends.

Then, I visited my grandfather in Italy. While in Rome, we visited Santa Maria Maggiore, a massive basilica second only to the Vatican itself in size and reputation. Twenty or thirty confessionals lined the walls.

Catholic confessional — Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

There weren’t even any pews—the confessionals were the only furniture. It was a stunning architectural statement, completely refocusing attention on a sacrament that was relatively obscure—or so I had thought.

Each confessional bore flags, often three or four, representing the languages spoken by the priests inside. Red and green lights indicated whether the priest was inside. Most were green, and numerous people lined up in front of confessionals bearing the flag of their country.

It felt like stepping into another ecclesiological world, one where individual confessions were an important part of many Christians’ lives.

Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

Of course, in most places, confession is greatly diminished in importance. Since Vatican II, Catholics are normally only required to confess once a year. In mainline Protestantism, it’s been largely abolished for centuries.

Among Protestants, the greatest focus on individual confessions is undoubtedly in the Episcopal Church, but there’s not much focus there to begin with. The 1978 Book of Common Prayer lays out very few exhortations about the sacrament, other than saying it is open to anyone at any time.

Most Episcopal priests do not offer scheduled times for confession, except sometimes on Ash Wednesday or Good Friday. And, perhaps more to the point, it’s not a big part of Episcopal church culture.

I never really noticed any of this, except to appreciate confession’s diminished importance. In the stories I had heard, individual confession was just another instrument used to create shame.

All that changed a few months ago. Thanks to my YouTube algorithms, I discovered a new group of vloggers (video bloggers) and social media influencers: young, devout women who were returning to various aspects of traditional Catholicism.

I know I just lost some of you at “traditional Catholicism.” Hang with me here.

Kneeler with bells for Catholic Eucharist — Photo by Grant Whitty on Unsplash

Before we go further, I want to note that I do not believe that confession to a clergy member is necessary for salvation. I certainly do not think that it should be a mandatory part of a church’s teaching, as it was for my grandmother’s friend. In my opinion, the shame and guilt surrounding the pre-Vatican II confessional is spiritually and mentally unhealthy.

But.

The women I found online were embracing regular confession for a completely different set of reasons. They didn’t just talk about it as a form of obedience to Church teaching. Rather, they embraced it because they found that individual confession can radically reshape Christians’ lives and their relationships with God.

Individual confession in an office — Photo by Annie Theby on Unsplash

Of course, there might be important adaptations that need to take place for a Protestant context–adaptations that will differ for each denomination. But here’s the bottom line: we can encourage confession to clergy or other trusted people as a means of spiritual growth, without deeming it necessary for salvation.

Why is it so important, though? Why might the mainline Protestant church consider individual confession as a means of spiritual growth?

1. Confession reshapes lives through the discipline of recollection.

Have you ever had a spiritual practice that involved recollecting your day or week? Maybe at the end of each year, you go over the previous twelve months? If so, you’ve probably experienced how helpful it can be to identify life patterns and reflect on whether they’re useful.

Sign saying "confession" in three languages — Photo by Annie Theby on Unsplash

Regular confession builds this practice in. People who go to confession prepare by spending time looking back over the last seven days. They recall the times they followed God’s call and the times they didn’t.

The Catholic women I watched measured their actions against a variety of yardsticks. Some use the Ten Commandments or another Biblical set of guidance. Others use meditations or guidance from their church leadership. The method isn’t the point—it can easily change depending on denominational or personal beliefs.

This practice of recollection is not new, even outside of confession. St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, also asked his followers to review their relationship with God each day in a prayer called the Examen. He knew that simply recollecting each week allows us to recognize healthy and unhealthy patterns in our lives—and to start changing them.

2. Confession can reshape lives by curtailing shame.

Person holding arms wide on a beach — Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

Shame researcher Brene Brown explains that “if we share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive. If we share our shame story with the wrong person, they can easily become one more piece of flying debris in an already dangerous storm.”

As I talked about two weeks ago, postmodern technology leaves very few places for people to safely confess experiences of shame. And, even if we have other, trustworthy people in our life, there are going to be things we can’t confess to them.

Sometimes you have to keep things private from your loved ones for their own sake. Other times, you simply can’t bring yourself to tell them something that might ruin the relationship.

Man praying on a park bench — Photo by Martin Péchy on Unsplash

Yet the alternative—keeping things entirely to ourselves—breeds more shame. That’s where individual confession comes in. You can probably think of a time when a secret ate you up—maybe it even caused mental health problems or spurred you to make a decision you regret.

Confessing in a private setting, to a safe person, can help shame have less hold. Of course, too often, clergy have been the “wrong person” to share shameful stories with. That’s a place where the culture around individual confession needs to change.

3. Confession can reshape lives by reminding us of forgiveness.

Each individual confession concludes with an absolution. Traditionally, it often includes encouragement from the clergy.

While forgiveness is a central part of the Christian tradition, most people could benefit from a regular reminder about it. When we’re forgiven after listing our sins, it’s harder to pretend that forgiveness doesn’t apply to us, or that it somehow can’t cover what we just did.

Of course, for some people, forgiveness after confession is also associated with shame. For those people, an absolution that focuses on our Belovedness, rather than forgiveness, might be more appropriate and equally transformative.

Someone raising their hands in worship — Photo by Carlos Arthur M.R on Unsplash

4. Confession reshapes lives by creating accountability.

In the Catholic tradition, this usually involves a certain series of prayers. As I’ve discussed throughout this series, clergy can use a number of other ways to facilitate reconciliation, growth, and reformed behavior.

They can ask them to seek professional psychological help. Or join a support group. Or take up a gratitude practice, like appreciating a family member once a day throughout the week.

Two buffalos butting heads — Photo by Uriel Soberanes on Unsplash

Many pastors preach about practices that their entire congregation can use to reform. And that’s very helpful.

But sometimes, those practices need to be personalized. And some congregants who are struggling with big problems might also need a clergy member to help keep them accountable.

5. Confession reshapes lives through regularity.

Currently, I go to confession once a year on Ash Wednesday. There’s no way I can remember all of my sins from the year—I can’t even remember all of the big ones. Even if I did, there’s nowhere near enough time to go through everything.

But more importantly, throughout that year, shame has built up. It’s become easier to buy into the stories that beat me down and tell me there’s no hope of being forgiven. And I’ve lost months of opportunities for accountability and focused spiritual growth.

In other words, going once a year can defeat the point. In order to fully reap the benefits above, confession needs to be regular.

I get that this idea of regular, individual confession is going way out on a limb for most of my readers. And not so long ago, I was pretty skeptical, too. Individual confession is just such a foreign concept in mainline Protestant culture.

But it’s important to recognize that it doesn’t have to look like Catholic or Episcopal confession. You don’t even have to call it confession—you can call it spiritual direction or just “Honest Talk with Pastor X.” It can happen in your office or over technology.

Individual confession taking place over coffee — Photo by Joshua Ness on Unsplash

And it definitely doesn’t need to be a huge drag on your time. If you want to minimize the time per person, you can teach your parishioners to prepare for confession ahead of time and ask them to save chit-chat for coffee hour.

Traditionally, in Catholic churches where confession is regularly practiced, it only takes three-to-five minutes per person. For an average congregation, once they get comfortable with the practice, that’s only an hour or two out of your week.

But the difference it can make is profound.

Do you think individual confession could help your church? Comment below, and let me know!

March 20, 2020March 20, 2020

3 Helpful Tips for Talking about Church Finances During Coronavirus

Hopefully you’re all nice and settled into our new post-apocalyptic reality.

Chances are, your congregation isn’t meeting on Sunday. For many of you, last week was a frenzied test of hastily-set-up livestreams and adapted liturgies.

As we settle into this new reality, there are a variety of considerations for pastors and their lay leadership. First, of course, there are the emergency nuts and bolts of doing pastoral care for the sick and dying, live-streaming worship, and linking seniors into virtual church community.

Once you’ve got that under your belt, though, there are probably some longer-term considerations to be thinking about. As I’ve surfed social media this week, one keeps resurfacing: church finances during coronavirus are becoming very difficult.

Chances are, the weekly offering comprises a decent portion of your income. Even if your congregation gives online, many people are probably reminded to do so during their weekly service. And if your church receives income from rentals during the week, that’s all gone, too.

And the coming months probably aren’t looking much better. Most churches will lose a massive source of revenue on Easter. And summertime is usually scant as well, since many parishioners are on vacation. All of this likely means that your church is experiencing a huge decrease in income.

Yet pastors and their staffs are, of course, working harder than ever from their homes. You are probably incurring many of the same expenses you normally do. Perhaps you are even spending a little bit more on setting up online infrastructure or engaging in new ministries to a pandemic-stricken community.

Pastor working from home — Photo by Nicolas LB on Unsplash

And then, there’s the added complexity of asking for money at a time like this. Unemployment is already soaring, stocks are a roller coaster, and it’s unclear what government bailouts will look like. You probably have at least a few families who are struggling to feed their kids.

I wouldn’t blame you if you feel reluctant to ask your congregants for money right now.

So, how do you talk about church finances during coronavirus? How do you ask congregants to provide for the church’s needs in a time when everyone is tightening their belts?

Dollar bill — Photo by Nicolas LB on Unsplash

Here are three basic principles I learned about money during my research. These principles are, I believe, just as relevant during a pandemic as they are during ordinary life.

1. Get the infrastructure set up.

If you don’t have online giving, you absolutely must set that up. That’s the main way to support church finances during coronavirus.

Also, if you’re a pastor, consider setting up a mail forwarding service to your home from the church. If you end up in a full lockdown, you might not be able to pick up checks. In that same vein, think about setting up mobile check deposit for your church, so that you can deposit checks from your phone.

Don’t be afraid to take some time in a newsletter or livestreamed announcements to tell your congregation about these things. No one could have predicted this.

Okay, these are the basics of church finances during coronavirus. Now, on to the more complex bit.

Mailboxes — Photo by Daria Nepriakhina on Unsplash

2. Be transparent about church finances during coronavirus.

At House for All Sinners and Saints, at a moment of financial strain for the church, the pastor asked a drag queen who was a church member to give the stewardship talk.

The member showed up in full drag, with a shirt that read, “This sh*t is expensive.”

Giving increased dramatically.

This anecdote exemplifies the theme of financial transparency that showed up again and again in my interviews. The average congregant hasn’t realized that church finances during coronavirus are going to be tight. They have no idea about the hard choices you have to make in moments like these, when giving may collapse.

Church closed on a flat plain — Photo by Skull Kat on Unsplash

So, be straightforward. Here are a few points you could talk about in your newsletter or live-streamed worship announcements:

Remind people that the expenses of the church have not changed simply because it is closed. List a couple of major expenses that still have to be paid (eg. mortgage, staff medical benefits).

Talk about pandemic-related expenses the church has. Are you running an extra food bank for kids? Buying new equipment so that your worship livestream is high-quality? Did you lose a main source of income from cancelled rentals?

Empty grocery stores — Photo by 🇨🇭 Claudio Schwarz | @purzlbaum on Unsplash

Tell people about the state of the congregation. For instance, you might say something like, “As I talk to the congregation, it seems like about a third of you have lost your jobs. About a third are struggling to feed you children without the reduced lunch program. As a church, we feel really strongly about supporting these members. So, if you do have a job and are not struggling financially, would you consider giving a little more than you normally might?”

Perhaps give people agency over where their money can go. If you have any special, pandemic-related ministries right now, think about creating a separate fund. Consider encouraging people to also give to the local food bank and other charities. And, of course, plug the “general fund” for basic expenses if that’s what’s needed!

Create clarity about how to support church finances during coronavirus. Remind people of the church’s address if they want to send a check. Create simple, clear steps for giving online. Take a moment to explain any new methods of giving you’ve set up during this time.

Women on smartphone — Photo by David Emrich on Unsplash

3. Keep a light touch.

Two things here. First, let’s talk about the importance of brevity. Have you ever given money to a worthwhile organization, only to be bombarded by an overwhelming email campaign, begging for more money multiple times a week?

Chances are, you have. And if so, you know that sometimes, less is more.

So, when you talk about finances, either in a newsletter or live-streamed announcements, be as concise as possible. Make sure people are reminded about the church finances during coronavirus, but not pressured or bombarded. Consider sending out one email newsletter on the topic and then simply including a few sentences at the bottom of subsequent emails.

It’s also important to talk about money only after giving pastoral care and discussing pandemic-related resources and assistance.

Email talking about church finances during coronavirus — Photo by John Schnobrich on Unsplash

Even more importantly, your campaign will be more successful if you exorcise guilt, shame, and fear from the conversation about money. Over and over, in my interviews, people told me that they gave more to their current church than to any they had previously attended.

Why? The pressure was off.

So here’s the most important thing: balance honesty and transparency with a complete lack of guilt and shame. There’s a big difference between making people feel like they should give, versus giving them the information they need to make an informed decision about giving.

Projector — Photo by Alex Litvin on Unsplash

Don’t make people feel like their gift is necessary to keep the church from closing (unless that’s truly, imminently the case). Don’t talk about your personal anxiety or fears about money. Consider asking people not to give if they’re struggling financially.

The key is to reduce any kind of fear, shame, and guilt. My interviewees were very clear that they gave more to churches that had guilt-free, simple discussions about money.

People pointing at laptop — Photo by John Schnobrich on Unsplash

As a final, personal note, I wanted to express my sincere admiration for you, the leaders of churches around the country. In seminary, you took a class in Apocalyptic Literature, not Apocalyptic Ministry. You work in a church that has operated for two millennia through sacramental, in-person contact.

Yet you have moved your communities into the online sphere with days or hours of notice. Many of you have gone outside your comfort zones and broached new digital frontiers this week.

You have navigated and responded to a news cycle that changes daily, if not hourly. You have rushed to comfort and love your flock through unprecedented emotional, physical and economic stress. You have done so in the midst of your own distress, financial uncertainty, and in some cases, illness.

I see you. I am proud of you. I am praying for you, as are many others.

And if you aren’t a pastor, please consider offering extra support to your clergy, whether logistical, emotional, or spiritual.

As Presiding Bishop Michael Curry would say: God love you. God keep you. And you keep the faith.

March 18, 2020March 20, 2020

Making Corporate Confession Count

Unless you live under a rock, your Lent is probably turning out somewhat . . . differently than imagined.

Here in the San Francisco Bay Area, we are sheltering-in-place. Last night, I took a walk downtown (we’re still allowed out for exercise). For all the traffic and pedestrians out, it might as well have been 2am.

I am acutely aware that COVID-19 is also throwing churches into turmoil. Last week, I wrote an article on digital ministry. And I’ll continue to write articles on apocalypse-related topics.

Livestreaming on phone — Photo by Caspar Camille Rubin on Unsplash

But I’m also keeping up with the confession series. Corporate confession might have a negative connotation for you, especially if you’ve experienced it surrounded by guilt and shame. Even if it doesn’t hold those associations for you, it probably does for some of your congregation.

Yet confession, done well, takes away the guilt and shame we carry. It represents a central tenet of the Christian faith–that our mistakes are wiped away by Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection, leaving us with a clean slate.

Done well, confession doesn’t shame us for being human. It brings light to our darkest places and reminds us that we are forgiven. For my generation, struggling with the pressures of social media and mental health, this process is especially important.

Now, let’s get down to some practicals.

There are two main forms confession takes, depending on your theology/denomination: corporate or individual. This week, I’ll focus on the more common form among mainline Protestants: corporate.

Here are six key pieces that can help your corporate confession meet the spiritual needs of our time and place.

1. Change your attitude around corporate confession.

How do you feel about corporate confession? If it’s just in the service for tradition’s sake, and/or if you’re not very enthusiastic about it, it will show.

Your congregation is looking to you to set the tone. They won’t take confession seriously unless you approach it reverently and enthusiastically.

This change in attitude might have some practical implications. Maybe you have confession more frequently. Perhaps you move it to a more crucial point in the service. Maybe you preach a sermon on its importance.

Either way, hopefully, you are feeling convicted about the transformative potential confession can hold. Let your congregation know.

Pastor preaching about corporate confession — Photo by Richie Lugo on Unsplash

2. Make the language work for you.

What’s your theology around confession? Maybe there are certain precepts your denomination holds. Perhaps your notion of salvation lies in Jesus’ birth. Or perhaps in his life and mission. Maybe your church focuses on his death and/or resurrection.

This is your chance to make the theological language exactly how you want it. If you or your congregants have been wounded by guilt-and-shame language, or “angry God” language, this is your chance to exorcise it completely.

Make the absolution really work for you, too. I might suggest leaning heavily on the forgiveness-and-mercy part of the equation and focusing on reassurance.

In the end, create a confession and absolution that you feel really good about. Create one that makes you feel unburdened, like you’ve breathed a sigh of relief after it’s over. Then, talk about your theological and liturgical choices with your congregation, so they can share that experience with you.

Person praying in nature — Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

3. Make it personal.

Have you ever rattled off a corporate confession, without really thinking about it? I have. Often, the confession seems way too vague, mentioning generic sins that often don’t feel like they apply.

That’s why it’s important that corporate confession be personal, especially important if you aren’t offering individual confessions. If your corporate confession talks about generic sins in a vague manner, it’s more likely that congregants won’t let it sink in.

Try thinking back to a confession that really touched you. When has confession unburdened you and inspired you to be a better follower of God in the coming week?

Perhaps there was some silence. Maybe you were asked to think about one or two things you were really sorry for during the last week.

Or, maybe it simply included language about specific groups of sins (eg. “thought, word, and deed”). Or invited you to reflect on specific groups of people that you might have sinned against.

Create a confession that touches people and stirs them to repentance in the context of their lives.

People holding hands in worship — Photo by Pedro Lima on Unsplash

4. Normalize confession.

If you’ve ever told someone an embarrassing secret or confessed a mistake to a loved one, you know that confessing is a deeply vulnerable thing. And we know that people usually won’t do vulnerable things. Unless, that is, it’s part of their communal culture.

That’s why it’s so important that you normalize sinning, confession, forgiveness, and grace.

So, at some point during the confession or absolution, try including language that reminds people that sinning is normal. Confession and absolution are deeply tied to the Church’s central story of crucifixion and resurrection.

Remind your congregation that they are not the first nor the last people to have messed up in the specific way that they did. Connect them to our Biblical heritage–basically one long story of individuals and communities sinning and then reconciling with God.

Emphasize that confession is both a crucial and a normal part of being in relationship with God, particularly in the Christian tradition. This will help to eradicate shame and encourage confession as a normal part of church life.

People sharing with each other in a small group — Photo by Dylan Gillis on Unsplash

5. Make the absolution count.

Maybe, in your tradition, the clergy actually forgives on God’s behalf. Maybe they simply reassure the congregation that forgiveness has happened. It doesn’t matter.

Word your absolution in such a way—and in such an enthusiastic tone—that they understand the enormity of what they have received. Again, think back to that time that confession really worked for you. Hopefully, it made you feel as though a weight was lifted off of your shoulders.

Give your congregation the gift of a similar experience every week.

Maybe this is expressed through a short joyful refrain. Maybe it’s all words. Maybe there are certain physical signs (eg. sign of the cross) that help reinforce this concept.

But use the absolution to help people breathe a sigh of relief—their sins are forgiven, they are a child of God, and they are called to go out and make a difference in the world.

Someone at a march — Photo by Zach Lucero on Unsplash

6. Let it be known that there is help.

This doesn’t need to be done during confession time (although it can be). But practical opportunities for growth are a necessary extension of true confession.

Publicize how to meet with the pastor. Put up posters for spiritual directors or therapists in the community. Have small groups for people with addiction, parenting, or simply ordinary groups for people trying to be good Christians.

Talk about all of these things as though they are a part of church culture, that this is something most people do on their walk with God. You could even ask church members and leaders to talk to the congregation about the time that they met with the pastor, saw a therapist, or went through a 12-step program.

Again, normalizing things takes away shame, encourages participation, and facilitates actual reform.

Signs saying "don't give up," "you are not alone," and "you matter." — Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash

A Case Study

As a final note, I wanted to offer a case study of a corporate confession that exemplifies everything above.

House for All Sinners and Saints uses a unique style of confession that is both corporate and extremely personal, while providing space for necessary anonymity. I want to share it with you in case it makes sense for your congregation or inspires you to create something similar.

Here’s how it works: after the sermon, there are ten minutes of quiet. During this time, congregants get up from their seats and wander around. There’s an iPad where they can donate money. There’s a healing prayer station. Sometimes, there’s a piece of artwork to reflect on. Or they can just stay in their seats.

Person writing in a journal — Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash

There’s also a petition station. People can grab a pencil and paper, kneel down, and write their prayers.

Often, these prayers become a confession. The Sunday that I was there, someone prayed about their addiction, asking that they would make it through their first week sober. Others asked God for forgiveness after they spoke harshly to a partner or child.

The worship leaders then put these prayers in a basket and read the prayers allowed, anonymously. This method allowed for deeply personal things to be confessed in a corporate setting.

Community standing together in silhouette — Photo by Mario Purisic on Unsplash

It also allowed the pastor to direct people toward specific resources. At the end of the service, the priest stood up and asked everyone in the congregation who had overcome an addiction to raise their hand. His went up, also. He told whoever had written that prayer that they could talk to any of these people.

People at House for All Sinners and Saints confessed their sins in this method regularly. For them, it was normal to share these intimate concerns.

My interviews showed that it was working. People told me that this method of corporate confession truly removed shame and turned the focus to grace, encouraging them to truly reform their behavior.

House for All Sinners and Saints practices only one of many possible versions of healthy, effective corporate confession. What are you envisioning? Comment below and let me know!

March 12, 2020March 12, 2020

Comprehensive Digital Ministry during COVID-19

Welcome to the apocalypse.

Just kidding. It’s not quite the apocalypse. But it is a pandemic.

You know it’s bad when Catholic bishops prohibit their priests from holding public worship and city officials forbid gatherings of more than 50 people.

Personally, I totally agree that it is time to minimize public contact, including worship services, because there’s still time to make a difference in the United States.

Two people with masks in China — Photo by Macau Photo Agency on Unsplash

AND, at the same time, I know social isolation is a real issue. So, let’s get creative. Let’s dive into digital ministry.

But wait a minute. Maybe you’re not sure that it’s time to pull the plug on public worship.

Here’s what convinced me: this Italian doctor is imploring Americans to take individual measures to self-isolate. For her, it’s already too late–she and her colleagues are completely overwhelmed by the influx of severe coronavirus cases. She, along with the New York Times, reports that Italian doctors are having to make heartwrenching, utilitarian decisions about who receives oxygen and intubation–and who doesn’t.

IV drip bag — Photo by Marcelo Leal on Unsplash

If you’re still unsure, check out this memo from the Italian College of Intensive Care to Italian doctors. It likens their moral choices to “wartime triage.” The memo tells doctors that they may need to terminate care for the elderly and those with preexisting conditions in order to care for patients with a better chance of survival.

All of these articles emphasize that the U.S. still has a chance to prevent things from getting that bad. I strongly believe that church leaders have a crucial role in encouraging social distancing. Churchgoers, especially elderly ones, may value your advice more than that of government officials.

Nevertheless, the responsibility to provide pastoral care doesn’t go away, especially for the elderly and vulnerable. Loneliness and isolation are no small matters in our society right now.

Isolated elderly person — Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

Here’s where digital ministry comes in. You do not need to choose between pastoral care and safe practices.

During the mass power outages in California, I wrote an article on how churches can respond to natural disasters, much of which involved digital ministry. Here are some ideas for ministry during extreme social distancing.

Digital ministry began long before the COVID-19, and hopefully, you’ve already engaged in it in some form (especially if you’re interested in reaching out to Millennials). Here are a few key ideas and resources for engaging in digital ministry during an outbreak:

1. Help seniors get connected.

The people who most need pastoral care right now are the least technologically-connected group: seniors. You can fix that.

No matter what digital ministry options you choose–and there are quite a few outlined below–make sure they’re accessible to those who suffer most from social isolation.

One person in wheelchair and one standing next to her — Photo by Josh Appel on Unsplash

Most seniors now have a smartphone, tablet, or computer with wifi. Get on the phone and walk them through the process of opening a livestream of worship or calling their family and friends on FaceTime.

If they’ve got social media, make sure they’re friends with other congregation members, who can check in on them. Help them join church social media groups or follow your accounts.

Patience is key. Having spent a significant amount of time helping elders learn their way around technology, I’ve found that you can connect them to just about anything, given enough time and patience.

If you’ve got a lot of seniors in your church, this might sound like an overwhelming task. Round up your youth group or other young members. Give them a list of phone numbers, and ask them to help you out.

Bingo–an intergenerational ministry out of a crisis.

Either way, it’s crucial to be serious about reducing social isolation among the elderly, and technology can help us.

2. Livestream services

You’ve got two options here. Livestream your service yourself, or connect your parishioners to other churches’ livestreams.

If you want to opt for the former, the St. Paul’s Cathedral in San Diego put together a video on 4 Easy Steps to Livestream your Worship. Here’s another good article by the Episcopal Church.

If you’re nervous about live streaming yourself, it’s less complicated than you think. I promise.

Digital ministry over livestream — Photo by Caspar Camille Rubin on Unsplash

But maybe that’s not possible for you. In that case, here are links to live-streamed Sunday worship services by denomination:

Episcopal (11am PST): https://saintmarks.org/worship/live-stream/

Presbyterian (9 and 11am EST): http://nationalpres.org/live?_ga=2.41684709.6925417.1584057239-1981184579.1584057239

Methodist: (9:30 and 11am EST): https://www.trinityumc.net/watchlive/

Lutheran (Saturdays, 4pm and 6pm; Sundays 8am, 9:45, and 11:30am EST): https://www.hope2all.org/worship/live-stream

American Baptist (11am EST): http://viennabc.org/live/

UCC (10am PST): https://www.firstchurchberkeley.org/watch/

Catholic (Pope Francis now offers daily Mass in Rome, which is streamed and archived here): http://www.catholictv.org/shows/pope-francis-daily-mass

3. Commit to Calls

Parishioner calling elderly member — Photo by Berkeley Communications on Unsplash

Maybe you’ve got some members of your church that you’re specifically worried about. If so, make a list and commit to calling them every day. FaceTime them if possible.

Of course, this list probably includes seniors. But be sure to think of health care workers, grocery store employees, and others who need extra pastoral care.

Likely, there are too many people for you to call frequently, so delegate. Chances are, there are other leaders in the church who are out of work and have extra time on their hands.

4. Social Media

Pastor livestreaming — Photo by Harry Cunningham on Unsplash

Most of your church members are probably on Facebook. If you don’t have a church account, set one up and send out the link of the page to your email list.

There’s a lot of stuff you can do. Post several times a day with encouraging Bible quotes, poems, and thoughts. Keep people updated with the latest recommendations from your government and church officials.

Even better, live-stream some content. During a hurricane in her community, Rev. Katie Churchwell started Pop-up Prayer, which turned out to be immensely popular.

Do a mini-sermon. Pray the Daily Office or a rosary. Lead a meditation. Just read straight out of the Bible. Sing hymns.

I don’t care. Your parishioners probably won’t, either. The important thing is that they see your face, hear your voice, and are encouraged.

Open church door — Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash

If you’re looking for other great resources on digital ministry, check out my friend Kyle Oliver’s excellent articles for encouragement and resources.

These are just a few ideas for remote ministry during COVID-19. But if you take anything away from this article, take away this: You don’t need to choose between physical care and spiritual care for parishioners. You can be just as good a pastor during a quarantine as you are during normal ops.

If you’ve got any other ideas, please comment below so others can use them!

March 11, 2020March 10, 2020

Confession in Cancel Culture: Why Millennials and Gen Z Need Confession More Than Ever

It’s no secret that Millennials struggle with mental health issues.

Mental health sets us apart from other generations. Partly, this is because we are more willing to talk about it.

But we also experience mental illness at rates well above older generations. In 2017, more adults ages 18-25 experienced depression than all other adults combined.

Young woman on cell phone — Photo by Fallon Michael on Unsplash

And, as we turn toward Generation Z, mental health becomes an even bigger issue. 40% of today’s teenagers worry about their generation’s use of substances. 70% are concerned about their generation’s mental health.

Obviously, I am not a mental health expert. I wasn’t even a Psych major in college.

But, with 22 years of experience as a Millennial/Gen Zer myself, here’s my best guess. The Internet’s hyper-public “cancel culture” is poisonous. Healthy confession in cancel culture largely doesn’t exist.

Which is why confession in church is more important than ever.

What does confession have to do with the mental health epidemic?

Last year, I wrote an article in Pacific Standard imploring Gen Z to give religion another shot, if only because we need communities that love us.

There are, of course, many reasons why teens and young adults today largely lack unconditionally loving communities to hold them accountable. But I’d argue the biggest reason, and the one I want to focus on, is social media and instant communication.

Young women on laptop — Photo by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash

Millennials and Gen Z have to be on. All the time. On for our friends. On for our family. On for our employers.

And if you’re not, there can be big consequences. Hence the popular term, “cancel culture.”

That selfie with the bad lighting might not only be seen by our friends, but also by our crush. That Facebook photo of us at a party might be tracked down years later by professionals, costing us a college admission or a job offer. That Snapchat story, meant for our friends’ eyes only, might be screenshotted and shared with strangers.

That intimate picture for a partner could be used as revenge porn when the relationship ends. Or it could be hacked. The list goes on.

Pile of phones, laptops, and chargers — Photo by Marvin Meyer on Unsplash

And all of this is heightened for Gen Z. In the five short years since I’ve been in high school, communication has shifted away from slower-paced posts on Facebook and Twitter to faster, video-based mediums like Snapchat, Instagram stories and Tiktok.

These apps are meant to record a much higher percentage of daily life. There’s not just pressure to look good enough for an occasional selfie. That pressure extends to all of life.

If you don’t show up to school looking cute, it’s not just your high school that sees you. Potentially, it’s the entire Internet. Confession in cancel culture is socially, emotionally, and sometimes physically dangerous.

Anything can go viral. Anything can trigger a flood of cyberbullying by people you’ve never met. And, even if you’re not on social media, you’ll probably be appearing on your friends’ feeds, being judged by their audiences.

It’s exhausting.

Instagram, Snapchat, WhatsApp, and YouTube — Photo by Christian Wiediger on Unsplash

And yet, it’s impossible to withdraw. If you want communal connection, especially if you’re under 35, you’ll be hard-pressed to find it away from technology and social media.

Almost all white-collar jobs will require you to communicate with your colleagues on a host of platforms. If you want to get hired in the first place, you’ll often need to put yourself out there through some form of social media. Romantic relationships are now often started, and almost always fanned, over technology.

And I can personally reassure you that Millennial friendships are very dependent on instant communication.

Young people on phones — Photo by ROBIN WORRALL on Unsplash

If you want to access community, you have to be on social media and technology. But the price of being online, even in “private” spaces, is the potential for judgement from anyone and everyone.

As a result, young people face the pressure to be perfect. For everyone. All the time.

Because any vulnerability, perceived or real, might be exploited, with unforeseen consequences.

Why do we need confession in cancel culture?

It seems the majority of our community, especially for young people, happens in places where we aren’t loved unconditionally. Parts of ourselves have to be hidden, to protect our physical and emotional safety.

Today, more than ever, confessing to our communities is a societally unacceptable, even dangerous, thing to do.

Yet everyone needs an outlet—a place where they can be themselves, be loved, and be held to a healthy standard of accountability. And a safe place for confession in cancel culture is more important than ever. Everyone needs a place where they can genuinely strengthen their relationship with the Divine, others, and themselves.

Confession in cancel culture — Photo by LinkedIn Sales Navigator on Unsplash

As I mentioned last week, I believe that confession is an important spiritual need in every time and place. But Reformation 4.0 is about reforming institutional Christianity specifically to meet the spiritual needs of the 21st century. And we really need confession in cancel culture.

What specific remedies can confession offer to these unique spiritual times? Three things.

A Human, Relational Space

However confession happens in your church, it probably happens offline. Things are slowed down and happen face-to-face—in a manner that fosters rich, deep relationship.

Snail — Photo by Ante Hamersmit on Unsplash

There is time to express emotion, and take in the emotion of others. It is far more difficult for something to be taken out of context, misunderstood, or manipulated. In most traditions, there are strict denominational rules mandating the secrecy of private confessions.

In other words, the in-person nature of confession creates breathing room. Room for the Holy Spirit.

Healthy Accountability

Confession in cancel culture can’t be Polyanna ritual, with the sins rattled off and absolution automatically given.

There need not be—shouldn’t be—shame and guilt. But it’s important that confession involve mourning. We need to take time to mourn the ways we didn’t live up to God’s vision and make amends.

Jesus is adamant about this in the Gospels. Matthew 5:23 tells us that our worship can’t happen unless we reconcile with each person we’ve hurt. 12 Steps groups, similarly, require participants to acknowledge the hurt they’ve caused and make amends to those they wounded.

But this safe accountability doesn’t happen much online. There’s no healthy confession in cancel culture. Either you have no accountability at all—or, conversely, you receive overwhelming levels of hate and vitriol.

Your church has a real opportunity to create an alternative. There are a variety of ways to facilitate healthy accountability in your congregation’s practice of confession. Check out my article last week for some practical resources, such as prayer practices or support groups, that clergy can use (scroll down to the bottom).

Unconditional Love

Hands down, this is the most important.

Being online, being in community, exposes us to unprecedented judgment. Maybe we’re the ones being judged. If not, we surely hear horrifying stories of cyberbullying, hacking, and cancel culture. These impacts are multiplied the younger we are, as more and more of our community is subsumed by technology.

I am not in favor of banning technology. Aside from being impossible to eradicate, I believe it can be a very good thing. I believe that God works extensively through technology, and that the Internet opens crucial digital ministry opportunities.

Technology in a meeting — Photo by Headway on Unsplash

But technology’s increasingly universal use presents a new set of spiritual needs for the Church to meet. And one of those, more than ever, is the need for people to feel unconditionally loved.

Everyone needs to know that they are loved and accepted, by some community, if not the one on Facebook. They need to know that they belong, and are forgiven.

People living in cancel culture need to know they belong not just after a minor, embarrassing mistake.

People living in cancel culture need to know they belong not only when they have it all put together on Sunday mornings.

Belonging in community — Photo by Helena Lopes on Unsplash

They need to know they belong when they confess the worst thing they have ever done. Unlike confession in cancel culture, which can often result in isolation, people need to know that God will cherish them, no matter what. They need a community that will extend radical, unbelievable grace.

And who better than the Church?

March 4, 2020March 4, 2020

Reclaiming Confession in Lent

What’s your reaction when you think about confession? Do you feel revulsion? Fear? Anxiety?

If so, you’re not alone. Last week, we talked about the Christian theology that made confession such a prominent part of Christian worship in the first place. But over the millennia, confession has become synonymous with guilt and shame. For some, it evokes an image of an angry, vindictive God, demanding guilt and self-denial in exchange for salvation.

Over the last few decades though, especially in mainline spaces, there’s been a move away from guilt and shame-filled theology. Researchers and cultural influencers like Brené Brown have led a shift toward more forgiving, loving understandings of ourselves and others. Liturgy that points to a judgmental Lord is disappearing in favor of more loving, mercy-filled depictions of the Divine.

If you ask me, this move is a good thing. So why do we need to be reclaiming confession?

Confession as Reconciliation, not Shame

Sign that says "repent" — Photo by Joel Muniz on Unsplash

I believe wholeheartedly that Christ came to take away our guilt and shame, not to increase it. Different theology disagrees on whether he did so through his life, death, or resurrection. But the result is the same.

It makes sense, therefore, to move away from aspects of our traditional liturgy that heap shame onto “hopelessly sinful” believers.

Yet, as humans, we all have times when we don’t respond to God’s love, when we act out of fear, instead. (For the purposes of convenience, in this article, I’ll refer to those moments as “sin.” But feel free to substitute whatever term you prefer.)

Person with face buried in hands — Photo by @plqml // felipe pelaquim on Unsplash

These occasions can slowly tear us down, wearing on our relationships with God and those around us. Sometimes, they wreak havoc.

This is where confession comes in. In the Catholic and Episcopal churches, confession is often known as the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

Sure, we are confessing our sins. But that’s not the end goal. The end goal is to reconcile with God, with ourselves, and with those we have hurt.

The “Sacrament of Reconciliation” emphasizes that we are not confessing in order to consign ourselves to the dark corner of shame. Rather, it’s about bringing our wounds into the light, where God can heal them. It’s actually about banishing shame, in order to enable reconciliation with God and others.

Light in the darkness — Photo by Jez Timms on Unsplash

Maybe your church or denomination doesn’t celebrate confession as an individual sacrament. Maybe it’s instead meant to be done in worship, or in small groups.

It doesn’t really matter how we do it. The important thing is that we, as the Church, provide a space for that all-important process of confession and reconciliation.

What happens when we don’t confess?

When we take confession out of our churches, it doesn’t automatically end the shame or guilt people feel about their sins. Instead, removing confession implies that sinfulness either:

doesn’t happen
doesn’t need healing, or
is something that should be kept secret and dealt with outside of church, through private prayer or secular therapists

I would argue strenuously that none of these assumptions is true. Obviously, we know that all of us sin, in ways big and small, on a regular basis. Nobody is perfect. As far as I know, no one is debating that.

So if we can all agree that sin happens, then we need to talk about healing. And healing isn’t something that we can just create by ourselves, much of the time. Especially when we are talking about larger patterns of destructive behavior—addiction, abusing others, etc.

Woman holding finger to mouth — Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

Confession opens the door to that healing by bringing our pain into the light and seeking the help of God, through trusted members in our community. When we don’t confess, we let wounds fester. And often, we are more likely to make the same mistake next time.

But it is also crucial that that healing happens in religious contexts, not only in secular therapy or private prayer.

In my last article, I mentioned that an interviewee wanted church to be a place where he could confess his worst sins, where he could confess adultery or drunkenness, abuse or addiction. Yet topics of that magnitude rarely see the light of day in average, mainline congregations.

Shunning these prevalent issues implies that there is no room for deep brokenness in church. There may not be explicit shaming or guilt, but the very lack of discussion teaches that such matters should be kept secret or dealt with outside of church, if at all.

To Millennials in particular, this silence can reinforce the notion that church isn’t relevant. If you’re not speaking to the most important issues in their lives, they’re not going to come.

Millennial on floor with book — Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

So . . . how can we be reclaiming confession?

Doesn’t this leave us between a rock and a hard place, then? If confessions traditionally have heaped guilt upon “unworthy sinners,” and no confession creates secrecy and shame by implication, how do we proceed?

This is part of the work of today’s Reformation: figuring out how to be reclaiming confession in a healthy, shame-free way. We need to create patterns of confession that meet the spiritual needs of those around us.

To that end, here are a few key ideas for reclaiming confession in your community:

Reclaiming confession by healing old wounds

Woman reclaiming confession against sunset — Photo by William Farlow on Unsplash

You personally may or may not have been wounded by previous expressions of confession. But very likely, some people in your congregation have been.

I heard several stories from interviewees who had been seriously hurt by confession in their childhood churches. One had even been in a denomination and family that had tied physical abuse to the practice.

While this extreme is probably rare, it’s important to detangle guilt, shame, and angry God theology from the practice of confessing the ways we wound and have been wounded. This can be done in a sermon, adult education class, or simply a little talk during announcements.

Man reclaiming confession on the labrynth — Photo by Ashley Batz on Unsplash

You know what best serves your congregation. But it’s important to assume that there will be some people, at least, who have a rocky history with the subject and need pastoral care before fully embracing a new form of confession.

Reclaiming confession by focusing on doing, not being

When confession focuses on our worthiness, it misses the mark by fixating on who we are, not on our actions or words.

As believers in Jesus Christ, our worthiness is not on the table for negotiation. Death has lost its sting. Nothing can separate us from the love of God.

Instead, confession must focus on our actions. What gets in the way of enacting love for ourselves, God, and our neighbors? Then, confession can help us trust that transparency is a powerful path to wholeness.

To this end, craft or choose confession liturgy, either corporate or individual, that focuses on action, not being. In the absolution, emphasize reassurances of forgiveness and love.

Reclaiming confession with practical paths to healing

Roman Catholics traditionally assigned penance, time in prayer, to strengthen souls so that they wouldn’t commit the same sin twice.

People supporting each other with hands — Photo by Perry Grone on Unsplash

Evangelicals often use small groups (Sandals Church in Southern California is a great example). If you confess to a megachurch pastor that you’re yelling at your child a lot, they probably have a support group for busy parents to read Scripture, pray, and give each other advice.

If your marriage on the rocks, they may point you to a group for married couples, along with the phone numbers of trusted therapists in the area. And so on for a variety of other issues.

Maybe it makes sense to assign individuals a prayer practice. Maybe you want to give people lists of resources in your church and town. Perhaps, if you realize many people are struggling with the same issue, you want to preach about it.

But providing concrete resources shows your congregation that confession isn’t just going through liturgical motions. It’s a very serious path that combines spirituality and practicality to create real growth in relationships with God and the people around us.

In other words, make it clear that your version of confession is true reconciliation.

February 26, 2020February 26, 2020

Confession in Lent: Reanimating an Ancient Tradition

Growing up, the confession in Lent felt like a saltine cracker. Bland, lacking heft, and a bit confusing.

It seemed like a placeholder, something routine, but not fully engaged. And, for some of the adults around me, it carried a lot of baggage, becoming something to be avoided as much as possible.

So if it occurred in the service at all (and we more frequently had confession in Lent), it was a paragraph of diluted theology. We rattled it off quickly and then left in the dust as we moved on to more meaningful and comfortable parts of the service, parts that rarely touched on the darkest, most difficult aspects of our lives.

A few years ago, though, I attended an evangelical megachurch for the first time. The entire service was uncharted territory for me.

But the craziest part? The pastor got up on stage and started talking about pornography addictions. He preached about it for 40 minutes.

My take away wasn’t guilt and shame. He just talked, matter-of-factly, about the devastating impact porn addictions can have on young boys and families, and offered spiritual and Scriptural advice on how to overcome it. And pointed people toward the addiction-recovery groups sponsored by the church.

In other words, he encouraged conversation and confession of a very insidious, prevalent issue.

I had never heard a mainline pastor come close to preaching on something as delicate as a porn addiction. In fact, I’d never heard a sermon focused on divorce, adultery, domestic violence, or any other kind of addiction at all. Those deepest, darkest secrets remained just that—secrets.

Preaching on confession in Lent — Photo by Kristina Paparo on Unsplash

Yet I knew that these things touched deeply on the lives of congregants in every denomination. And I began to wonder about the impact of talking about these issues openly—thereby encouraging confession in explicit ways in our church communities.

Confession happens in a variety of contexts. There’s the well-known individual confessions you see in movies, usually in the Catholic church. Then there’s the more common corporate confession read out during Sunday services, with a general absolution that follows. Finally, in informal contexts, the faithful can confess to clergy or other laypeople, sometimes in the context of spiritual direction or Christian therapy.

And, at the megachurch service, I realized that pastors can encourage all of these kinds of confession by preaching on the most difficult parts of our lives, pointing toward the relief and redemption confession can offer.

When I first began my research into thriving, progressive, Protestant churches, I didn’t think confession would come up much at all. I still wondered if confession, even confession in Lent, was an outdated hallmark of guilt and shame-ridden theology.

Imagine my surprise when it came up in my very first interview. When asked what he liked about the church, my interviewee mentioned the deep authenticity of his congregation. “Church should be a place where I can talk about the worst thing I have ever done . . . ‘I committed adultery last night,’ or ‘I didn’t mean to, but I hit my kid.’”

Indeed, his congregation allowed for sharing these kinds of intimate confessions in anonymous prayers, written down by congregants and then read aloud during Prayers of the People. And he said that that level of authenticity, that ability to confess anything to your church, was the reason he came.

His comments floored me. He was suggesting an unprecedented level of transparency in mainline church.

Later that day, I attended his worship service for myself. And, sure enough, one of those anonymous Prayers of the People contained a confession of alcohol addiction and a plea for help.

After the Prayers, the pastor stood up. “Who here, in this congregation, has struggled with addiction?” he asked. At least thirty hands went up. “Whoever wrote that prayer can talk to any of these people,” he said. “We will all help you.”

I was seeing again, firsthand, the impact that deep confession can have. It’s not just a paragraph rattled off; when done well, it means unburdening ourselves fully, being raw and open and honest in a way that we can’t in other spaces. And then, we can hear God’s voice more clearly.

Most importantly, confession helps us open to the reassurance that nothing can separate us from God—or our church family.

Confession in Lent

In today’s progressive Christianity, Lent is vaguely tied to confession. In Episcopal congregations, Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are usually the only times of year when formal confession to a priest is explicitly offered. Other congregations may only bring out corporate confessions in Lenten worship.

This is a significant departure from how confession was practiced in congregations across the Christian spectrum fifty years ago. Pre-Vatican II, Catholics were required to confess every time before receiving the Eucharist; now, the minimum is once a year. In other denominations where confession is an individual affair, it is offered far less frequently. Where it is a corporate part of worship, it has often been downplayed or removed.

Why has confession largely disappeared from our churches? Does it have a purpose in our twenty-first century culture, especially for Millennials? What might a healthy practice of confession look like, across the denominational spectrum, for modern congregations?

This seems like a timely liturgical season to explore these questions. So we’ll be talking about confession in Lent.

Why do we need confession?

Confession happens in a variety of contexts. However you do it, though, there’s one main thrust: naming the burdens on our conscience and receiving assurance of God’s forgiveness.

In earlier articles, I’ve talked about spiritual needs changing in different cultural contexts. This need to confess and be forgiven, I believe, is one of the few needs that stays constant.

In fact, I would argue that today, we need confession more than ever (but more about that in a few weeks).

Praying in church (man) — Photo by Kenny Luo on Unsplash

The question, then, isn’t about whether confession is necessary in our congregations. It’s about how we can create rituals of confession and absolution that meet the spiritual needs of our time and place.

But before we get to practical expressions of confession for today’s Christians, we need some background. Next week, we’ll be talking about the shame and guilt traditionally tied to confession. How do we redeem the idea and language of confession in our congregations?

The following week, I’ll share why confession is particularly important in our contemporary American culture, especially through my personal experience with Millennials and Generation Z.

Then, we’ll get to practical implementation. How do we confess corporately? How do we practice confession one-on-one? What could that look like across denominations, in ways that address societal needs today?

We’ll wrap up with looking at how confession is usually practiced in churches today and how it can be redeemed and updated to better address the spiritual needs that today’s society—especially Millennials and Gen Z—are bringing to the table.

Am I missing anything? What would you like to talk about regarding confession in Lent? Comment below and let me know!

If you’re interested in my recent liturgy series, co-hosted by Young People’s Theology, you can find it here.

February 12, 2020February 11, 2020

Bringing Mainline Liturgy Alive: The One-Sunday Option

Welcome to Week 4 of the liturgy series, an journey of reinvigorating your mainline liturgy for your congregation.

We’ve talked about how to cultivate pastors’ personal connection to the liturgy, how to preach a sermon series on worship, and how to dive into liturgical education in adult and children’s religious education classes.

This week, we’ll be focusing on our final strategy for connecting with the mainline liturgy, what I’m calling the One-Sunday option: dedicating one, complete Sunday service to a sensory and interactive exploration of worship.

During the course of my research in fall 2018, I happened to schedule a visit to House for All Sinners and Saints (HFASS) on Reformation Sunday. It turned out to be my lucky day.

As a Lutheran church, Reformation Sunday is big at HFASS. They’d hired brass and distributed celebratory pom-poms for the congregation to wave. Of course, they sang A Mighty Fortress is Our God. There was even a bake sale and silent auction afterwards.

But it was the liturgy that stood out the most.

The pastor, Rev. Reagan Humber, had set aside that day to explain the beauty of the Lutheran liturgy. He wanted his congregation to understand why Lutherans, and HFASS Lutherans in particular, worshipped the way they do.

Cross from mainline liturgy — Photo by Joshua Eckstein on Unsplash

Rather than preaching a sermon, Reagan paused before each part of the service to explain its significance. After each mini-sermon, the congregation launched into that part of the service, with their enthusiasm and devotion renewed by a refreshed connection to each piece of the liturgy.

This strategy for enlivening the liturgy—the One-Sunday option—is a great alternative or supplement to the options we’ve discussed over the last few weeks.

Open Bible — Photo by Cathy Mü on Unsplash

Maybe your church can’t devote four weeks to a liturgical sermon series. Perhaps you don’t have adult or children’s education classes. Or maybe, your congregation would learn better through a kinesthetic and interactive process, rather than through the audial medium of a sermon or class.

If that’s your church, this article is for you. We’ll be discussing two different strategies for implementing the One-Sunday option: one low-tech and one digital.

Mainline Liturgy: The Low-Tech Strategy

Reformation Sunday at HFASS is an excellent example of the low-tech strategy—that is, pausing throughout the service to explain each piece of the liturgy.

If you opt to preach a mini-sermon on each part of the service, here are a few things to consider discussing:

The history behind that part of the service in Christianity and/or in your denomination.
The reason your church includes it or why it’s done this way.
How that part of the service was designed to connect congregants with God.
Why and how you usually connect with God during this part of the service.
For more misunderstood sections of the liturgy, explain what it’s not. For instance, if you’re non-denominational, you might say that you believe that Communion is not the literal body and blood of Christ, but rather a memorial where we connect with Jesus by remembering what he did and the commandments he gave during his last day alive. Or, if you’re Anglo-Catholic, you could say the opposite.

Another example of this low-tech strategy is here. Written by the Anglican Church of North America, the italicized explanations in this text pause to explain the theology behind each piece of the service. (The explanations on this document are meant to be read, not preached/spoken, but they would be easy to adapt.)

Mainline Liturgy: The Digital Option

Okay, now for the high-tech option. If you’re Episcopalian, you’ll probably be aware of the resource that inspired this idea: How2charist.

Started by seminary students hoping to reinvigorate the mainline liturgy with digital media, this free resource walks congregants through a service using video resources meant to be used alongside a real live Eucharist.

If you’re not Episcopalian, this resource would take a lot of work to redo for your denomination. But take a look at the resource anyway (it’s free!). The Intro video is below.

How2Charist Intro Video

Especially if your congregation responds well to media, see if there’s an easy way to adapt it to your service. If you wanted to re-create this for your congregation, you could film your worship and overlay the footage with audio and visual effects.

A Few Brief Notes

Before we wrap up, I want to include a few final notes on the One-Sunday method, no matter how you want to do it.

First of all, try involving multiple people. Invite your deacon or an altar server to explain their parts of the service. This will create a more dynamic and exciting experience.

Second, think about how to make the service sensory and interactive. Break out the incense for a demonstration, if that’s your thing. Make people pay attention by walking around to different parts of the church as you talk about different parts of the service.

Try to include visuals of some kind, even if it’s just a display of different altar cloths used at different times in the liturgical year. If you’re feeling really experimental, you can pass around a mic and let the congregation talk about how a particular part of the service touches them.

Finally, talk about how they can get involved. Likely, this service may inspire some people to connect with God by leading the liturgy.

You can talk about the particular gifts that make a good usher, altar server, etc. People may be surprised to hear how these roles facilitate a connection to God for other congregants. And, finally, make it clear how people can jump in and get involved if they want to.

Thanks for sticking around to the end of the Liturgy series. How do you want to reinvigorate your mainline liturgy? How have you done it successfully in the past? Have any more ideas? Comment below!

I’ll be taking a break next week to get ready for my Lenten series on confession. Stick around—it’ll be more fun than it sounds!

Sins Committed by the Church

Sins Committed by our Country

Sins Committed by our Society

How do we confess the sins done on our behalf?

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Preaching About Experiences of Lament

Making room for Experiences of Lament

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1. Confession reshapes lives through the discipline of recollection.

2. Confession can reshape lives by curtailing shame.

3. Confession can reshape lives by reminding us of forgiveness.

4. Confession reshapes lives by creating accountability.

5. Confession reshapes lives through regularity.

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1. Get the infrastructure set up.

2. Be transparent about church finances during coronavirus.

3. Keep a light touch.

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1. Change your attitude around corporate confession.

2. Make the language work for you.

3. Make it personal.

4. Normalize confession.

5. Make the absolution count.

6. Let it be known that there is help.

A Case Study

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1. Help seniors get connected.

2. Livestream services

3. Commit to Calls

4. Social Media

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What does confession have to do with the mental health epidemic?

Why do we need confession in cancel culture?

A Human, Relational Space

Healthy Accountability

Unconditional Love

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Confession as Reconciliation, not Shame

What happens when we don’t confess?

So . . . how can we be reclaiming confession?

Reclaiming confession by healing old wounds

Reclaiming confession by focusing on doing, not being

Reclaiming confession with practical paths to healing

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Confession in Lent

Why do we need confession?

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Mainline Liturgy: The Low-Tech Strategy

Mainline Liturgy: The Digital Option

A Few Brief Notes

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