Sunday, February 7, 2016

Circles of Grace

July 2015
Circles of Grace

Steven H. Shussett, St. Paul's Lutheran Church
As a Presbyterian now three weeks into serving an Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) church, I’ve come to see my ministry under the Formula of Agreement as a series of concentric circles. Each overlaps in my circumstance, and yet is independent, informing one another and yet unique.

In my case, this is my first pastorate in 14 years, after two stints in specialized ministries. I long for the rhythm I once knew, the way the contents of a sermon are sifted together, and the confidence that simmering on the fire of the Holy Spirit over time will provide an outcome, the different ingredients making for a different flavor each week. After 14 years without weekly sermon preparation, three weeks isn’t enough to re-establish that rhythm, or fortify the hope, mid-week, that somehow things will come together. But, of course, that would be true in a Presbyterian or Lutheran context.
Then there is the nature of place. My family and I have lived in Allentown, Pennsylvania, for ten years, but rarely had any reason to come into the center of the city. Beyond our dentist on 13th Street, “there be dragons,” with only the museum, a once-favored, now-defunct restaurant, and city hall to give us cause to enter.

Now I’m on 8th Street, in the center of unbelievable change as a new city emerges from the old, as new shops, eateries, and housing pop up like mushrooms around a new arena. This chaos would be true for any pastor in a new place, but what makes this even more dramatic is that the congregation doesn’t know its space either. It is as if we all dropped from the sky. True, parishioners know where North 4th and West Allen intersect, which is more than I can say. But even lifelong residents are at a loss to know what is located there! To respond to your context and your neighbor means to get to know them. Except many who will live here do not yet live here, their future homes now a hole in the ground. The one constant is in itself ever-changing, the homeless served by the church soup kitchens four times a week, and ministry far beyond that.

The third circle speaks to the ways of the ELCA. I am teased by Presbyterians and Lutherans alike about my connection to the other. I reply that I’m following in the footsteps of Philip Melancthon, (1497-1560) who tried to bring the two together. As is so often the case, relationship and vision have made this call possible.

I have known Bishop Sam Zeiser since his installation, and while our paths did not cross frequently, they were always friendly. Some years ago, common vision led our mid councils to join to United Church of Christ conferences in providing boundary training for all of our pastors. This past fall, shortly after intuiting that I was open to seeking a new call, I went for my own boundary training, hosted that year by the Lutherans. There to greet us was my friend, the Bishop.

The Formula of Agreement has been on the books since 1997. But it isn’t something commonly known by church members or pastors. But I knew that just as I, as the Teaching (Executive) Presbyter, was aware of the possibility and how it was practiced, the Bishop would know about this as well. Vision is not only seeking what is in the near-distant future; it is also seeing what is possible right at your feet. I sensed an immediate, if unstated, interest on his part to my shared confidence that I was exploring possibilities for my future. The seed planted that day is taking root as I write.
Finally, there is the particularity of this specific congregation. Not only am I learning general Lutheran theology and practice, but I am living out St. Paul’s expression of these on a daily basis. I am constantly asking, “Is this a Lutheran thing or a St. Paul’s thing?” to know whose line I am in danger of crossing — and it is often both!

But this, I am glad to say, is an overstatement. Not every bishop or EP would be open to considering a Formula of Agreement relationship, laying the necessary foundation in a congregation. Nor is every congregation open to receiving someone quite so different, who requires on-the-job training. That it was even considered says a lot about all of them.

The word I have used, repeatedly and daily, is “gracious.” Would that every congregation were so gracious as this one, and thanks be to God that so many of them are. Ecumenical, and interfaith, relationships will be multiplied and extended as we recognize that not everyone is as we are, and all have something to contribute to us and our growth. Without years of witnessing and participating in Lutheran practice, lacking time to study and embody its ideals, and lacking experience presiding at the altar (and remembering to bow!), each Sunday is a new adventure, and every day a lesson in Lutheran theology and practice.

But for one who, baptized as an adult, who accepted Eugene Carson Blake dictum that “To be Presbyterian is to be ecumenical” even before he knew what they meant, I am so grateful. For the opportunity to live out what to this point had been a theory, seen but until now never personally experienced. And grateful for the witness of this Northeastern Pennsylvania Synod of the ELCA and more particularly, St. Paul’s, which has put flesh and bones on the word “gracious,” to me and those whom we serve.


Originally published by the Ecumenical Office of the Presbyterian Church (USA)

Our Cup Does Run Over

November 2015

Our Cup Does Run Over

For the last seven weeks, I have led a Christian education series at St. Paul's Lutheran Church using the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s We Believe curriculum. How we “Engage the Gospel” is not just a Reformed concern. Now we have begun a new series, on Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer; is there a Presbyterian seminarian over the past few decades who hasn’t studied Bonhoeffer to some degree?

As we watched the DVD on Bonhoeffer’s early theological studies, we heard of his spiritual awakening on Palm Sunday in St. Peter’s Square, seeing people of different race, culture, and nationality, bound together by their common faith. And I reflected on the meals provided to the homeless in our city, most visibly by host churches of various stripes like the United Church of Christ, Baptist, Roman Catholic, and Lutheran. But less visibly if no less importantly, are the multitude of believers who come and provide food, preparation, and hospitality. Their names are not on the outside of the building but on the chalkboard inside, where they can be appropriately thanked.

Like the cup of Psalm 23, the space overflows with goodness and mercy, and it is expressed in expansiveness of faith and language. The Muslim Association is on the schedule every month, and the gathered community shows its respect as a traditional blessing is offered, sometimes in English, sometimes in Arabic, and sometimes in both. Just yesterday I walked into the church office to see bags and boxes of food. It seems that a five-year-old girl, a Hindu, learned that not everyone has as much to eat as she does. So for her birthday she asked that instead of gifts, foodstuffs be brought, and she in turn brought these to St. Paul's. After the many trips from car to building, she and her family asked if they could pray in the church’s sanctuary. And so they did.

For some, hearing Jesus’ prayer that we would be one as he and God are one (John 17) means that our diversity is a failure. As long as we are many — Methodist, Presbyterian, Lutheran — and not one, Jesus’ prayer remains unfulfilled. Others suggest that the diversity of our faith traditions — do they mean only Christian, or also Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist? — is an exhibition of the diversity demonstrated in so many other ways. Diversity is the norm, so perhaps it is God’s preference. I enjoy the theological debate, but sometimes I wonder if it is a contemporary version of “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” Not that there may not be some theological “truth” to be derived, but does it really matter?

Bonhoeffer would go on to write that the church is the church when it exists for others. Soon, Thanksgiving Eve services at their best will gather people from north and south and east and west, a witness to how we can come together with all of our differences. When attendance is poor, however, that witness is diluted. And what does it mean if we come together for annual worship, but no more than that?

But when we come together for the purpose of serving the other, hand in hand, side by side, our color, creed, and nationality become a witness to the God who knows the birds of the air and the hair on our head. A witness to the God who cares for us so much that as Christians we confess that he came as one of us to walk with all of us.

This week “Crossroads” opens in St. Paul's, the only day shelter for the homeless who otherwise have few options for a warm place before the night shelters open. In the years since it opened, its main purpose has been warmth and shelter. This year, however, we are seeking the community’s assistance to provide life skills training, education, and companionship. For those who wish to improve their state in life, we are hoping to provide at least a toehold. For those who feel invisible, we hope to help them be known, be seen. We are a small church, with an older population. There is no way this or the soup kitchen is possible without the many who come from contexts beyond the pale of Lutheran, Christian, Anglo, Middle-Class, Allentown. It is only the expansiveness of charity, generosity, and hospitality that make it possible for this church to exist to serve others. Perhaps our greatest gift is to be the place where others can serve.

Are we the same or are we different? Yes. Are we one, or are we many? Yes.


Originally published by the Ecumenical Office of the Presbyterian Church (USA)

Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days

January 2016

To all the Saints of St. Paul's,
Grace to you, and peace.

      The liturgical calendar of the church shapes us, often in ways we do not recognize. The season of Advent leaves many straining against the reins to sing Christmas carols heard a month before in stores and on television. After Epiphany, life seems full of seemingly mundane events, Sunday after Sunday. It is a reminder to the faithful of everyday lives that are to be lived mindful of the presence of God. The time of the church helps to give all our time shape and new meaning. Peter Bower, a liturgical scholar, writes
The liturgical calendar offers a series of celebrations that confront us with who we are in Christ and present us with a pattern for growth in Christ. The liturgical calendar permeates us with the mystery of Christ’s redeeming work so we may conform our lives to Christ.

Lent is no exception, and its particular emphasis on following Jesus to the cross gives it a unique place in the church’s life, and that of the individual believer. The forty days after Ash Wednesday have historically been a time of training in the church, particularly for those who are considering becoming a part of it and those seeking renewal within it. And for those whose relationship with Christ and his church has waned, the Lenten season offers a period of preparation for return.

Above all, Lent provides an opportunity to learn what it means to follow Christ. This makes the season an especially fruitful time for exploring spiritual disciplines, not simply as an intellectual exercise for seven weeks, but a chance to experience what can become practices for a lifetime. It is not just a chance to put something down—chocolate, soft drinks, or alcohol—but to take something up in the spirit of Jesus who took up his cross.

The stories of Lent help us to understand what is perhaps the most simple and most important lesson of the spiritual life: pay attention — to God, yourself, and the world around you, near and far. In taking time to be grateful for the food we have, we can pray for those who don’t. We can read the newspaper not only for information but inspiration, which comes from the Latin “to breath.” We breathe in the Spirit as to what is happening, and breathe out our prayers and our actions to make a difference in the lives of those known and unknown to us. To read the Bible not in haste or out of duty, but as a way to more fully understand this Christ so that we might more faithfully follow him.

      May God bless you in this season of Lent. With its reminders of temptations and failure, and the promise of forgiveness and new life, may you might find that you are more and more conformed to Christ, and by his grace, transformed into the very likeness of him.


God is all in all,
Pastor Steve

A Word for Advent

November 2015

To all the Saints of St. Paul’s,
Grace to you all, and peace!

Advent and Christmas have always had a special place in my heart, long before I became a Christian. As a two-year-old, I didn’t know the anguish it caused my Jewish parents when I asked for a Christmas tree. Christmas being a part of American culture must have eventually worn them down, as we received presents and stockings were hung by the chimney with care.

It was not until much later, however, that this time of year cemented itself into my very being. It was Christmas break of my senior year in college. A friend had recommended a book to me the year before, and like so many books, it sat, unread on a shelf. But now I had a few weeks without any school responsibilities, so a dictionary-sized book didn’t feel like just one more assignment. The Seven Mountains of Thomas Merton by Michael Mott is a biography about a man who wrote a famous 20th century autobiography, Merton’s The Seven Storey Mountain. This biography told the story of a young man whose small shoots of faith grew into the kind of vine that eventually connected him to God in a variety of profound ways. Most importantly for me, it spoke of someone whose less than saintly life was not enough to keep God from gifting him in a deep and intimate relationship.

I began the book in the midst of a season whose name, Advent, I wouldn’t know for years. And it was not until just after Christmas, December 26th, St. Stephen’s Day as it turns out, that the years of small shoots of faith growing in me took root in a life-changing way. I was different after that day, in a way I wouldn’t be able to explain or describe for quite some time.

The elements of Advent that carried me into that sacred space those long years ago have continued to shape me. The early darkness associated with late December, the contemplative spirit that feels like a road less traveled when set against “Ho, ho, ho!” and singing elves and snowmen. The call to watch and wait that stands in such contrast to our “want more, do more” culture this time of year.

We all come with our own history and our own stories. The things that are important to us and those that changed us.


My prayer for you is this: that Advent and Christmas will not only be a time to reflect on what was, but to reflect the light of the One Who Is, Who Was, and Who Is to Come. By grace, we become lights shining in a world of darkness, reflecting God’s own Marvelous Light.

Who Are You?

September 2015

To All the Saints of St. Paul’s     
Grace to you all, and peace!
“Who are you?”
This is a normal enough question to ask, and to answer, when meeting as many people as you do when accepting a new job or call. It is also a question we spend a lifetime answering as we live out our response of “Who are you?” and “Whose are you?”
You may have also noticed that each Sunday, that question is implied in the benediction with which you have been blessed as you ready to leave the worship service. There is much I can and will say about that benediction, but now I draw your attention to the phrase, “Be who God made to be, and know that you are loved.” This is an invitation for you to consider who God made you to be, and who you are.
 “Be who God made you to be” is hardly an original thought. There is everything from Shakespeare’s “To thine own self be true,” to the baptismal refrain of the Lion King, “Remember who you are.” There is even Popeye and his “I yam who I yam”!
But as Christians it is neither high culture nor low that creates, guides, and sustains us, but God and God’s word, where again and again we are reminded of God’s love for us, and that love’s call on our lives. This love is conveyed again and again to the people of Israel and through the person of Jesus Christ, for example
                                                          
But now thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob, who formed you, O Israel:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine (Isaiah 43:1).
and
… you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people,
in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him
who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.
Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people;
once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy (1 Peter 2:9-10)..

Who are you? And what would it be like to live as the person you really are? That is the question Thomas Merton asks in his book, New Seeds of Contemplation. What if we gave glory to God out of our true self—being who God made us to be—rather than from the fears, insecurities, and assumptions we make about ourselves and that others make about us? If only, he suggests, we glorified God as the trees do, branches waving, leaves turning—never trying to be something other than what they are, but worshipping with all that they are.
As a pastor, I see one of my primary tasks as helping others to be who God made them to be. To be humble in the truest sense of the word, neither thinking too much of themselves nor too little, but being grounded (humus: ground) in the truth. We need to be honest about the gifts we have and those we lack, not seeking to be every “successful” person or church  we read about, but to be the fullest expression of Christ of which we are capable, in our own unique way.
In the movie City Slickers, Billy Crystal’s character, stuck in the midst of a mid-life crisis, asks the grizzled cowboy played by Jack Palance for his secret of life. Palance raises a finger and says, “You have to find one thing, just one thing.” “What is it?” asks Crystal. “That,” Palance replies, “is for you to find out.”
May we each have the courage, patience, and trust to let God reveal to us who God made us to be, and then live it out. Even if—especially if—it is different than what we or the world around us expects. Even if—especially if—it takes us in directions we could never have anticipated. Even if—especially if—being a child of God is all we can be ever sure of, because so often it has to be enough. And because ultimately it is more than enough.
                  
God is all in all,

Pastor Steve

What is God's Next New Thing?

August 2015

To all the saints of St. Paul’s,
Grace to you, and peace!

Between the bookends of two personal trips (a wedding and moving our son into college), I spent a week in Florida for two separate, but related, purposes. I am currently in my seventh year (of eight) on the Presbyterian Church’s committee to review and grant funds for new worshipping communities. That committee met at the beginning of a conference for current or aspiring new worshipping communities around the country. We gave away a lot of money, and learned a great deal about some amazing ministries.
I can say that this committee’s work is among the most exciting ministry in which I’ve ever been involved. It is a blessing to see how God is indeed doing a new thing, and then having the opportunity to support its development.
These new worshipping communities sometimes look like traditional churches, but often when someone develops a heart for a particular community of people, or a particular place, it can appear very different from what we are used to seeing as a “church.” Our Ripple friends would fit right in! It could be a mobile home park or a new immigrant population, ministering to the homeless or to the chefs, waitstaff, and bussers of the hospitality industry. There are twenty-somethings meeting at a neighborhood tattoo parlor, rural folks in rocking chairs instead of pews, and senior citizens who provide a skateboard park in their parking lot. The Gospel is so amazing that it spills over into everything!
I encourage you to go to www.onethousandone.org for information, or look up “1001NewWorshiping” on YouTube for many videos on exciting ministries occurring around the nation. Or call me and we can use my computer! May we be inspired and stretched, because whether we start something new, or polish, sharpen, and refine what St. Paul's has been doing, God is calling us on to join in.
Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?                 ~Isaiah 43:19

God is all in all,
Pastor Steve

The Rarest of Birds

July 2015

To all the saints of St. Paul’s,
Grace to you, and peace!

Among the many things that I would like to tell you about myself is that for several years I have been a spiritual director. Since completing my training at Kairos: School for Spiritual Formation (which meets outside of Reading), I have been meeting with individuals in person and through Skype, to accompany them on their journey with God. I’ve also been blessed to teach others how to accompany others on their way.

As I explain on my webpage (http://www.steveshussett.com/ , which you are welcome to go visit), I think of spiritual direction as my walking with someone, perhaps just a step or two ahead of them. Things happen, for example, a rare bird flies by, and sometimes the person is led to ask questions about the bird. Other times the person is so busy, or so used to the bird, that they don’t notice how unusual this is. Or the world can be so heavy that it can be hard to even lift your head to see the bird.

As a spiritual director, I am there to listen to the person’s story, to pay attention for those rare bird-sightings. I then gently invite my companion to notice what is around them, and ask the questions that emerge. God is the ultimate director; my calling is to sit with another so she or he can hear God. Sometimes God speaks in fire and earthquake, other times in silence and the ordinary.

Apart from wanting you to know about this important facet of my life, I want you to know about this because being a spiritual director is a matter of who I am, not just what I do. That is to say, I am a spiritual director even when I am not directing. I am as likely to be quiet as to talk, and when I do talk, I am as likely to be asking questions as answering them.

It is important that you know this, because as Duke Divinity School professor C. Kavin Rowe writes in his article, “Leadership and the Discipline of Silence,”
We are not accustomed to thinking of leaders as those who know how to be silent. We want them to put out a statement, give a response, open the conversation, interpret the recent news and so forth. And this, of course, is perfectly reasonable. In some ways, it is the gift and responsibility of leaders to do these things.

But then after speaking of all of the words we have today, with constant commentary, TV, and social media, Rowe writes, “Silence is the name for the time it takes to see the path of wisdom.” As a spiritual director, I believe that that wisdom comes in listening for God’s wisdom together. It is not just about me, it is about we. It is about God speaking with us.

May God bless us as we seek to be attentive to that rarest of birds at work in the world and in us:
Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove!

God is all in all,
Pastor Steve Shussett


Be astonished!

July 2015

To all the Saints of St. Paul’s,
Grace to you, and peace!

It is hard to know how to introduce yourself sometimes, where to begin, and so I’ve decided to start with a Scripture passage that in many ways defines my sense of ministry and who I feel called to be.
In Habakkuk 1:5 we hear God say, “Be astonished, be astounded, for I am doing things among you that you would not believe if you were told.”
I am so looking forward to meeting all of you, to learn how God is at work in your life, and for the prayers we can share of how God might touch your life in new ways.  Between you and me, these will be new relationships, but I hope that even those of you who have known each other for many years will have opportunities to say “Wow, I didn’t know that about you! I didn’t know you felt this way!”
But just as importantly, my heart beats just a bit faster when I think of us being astonished and astounded together: God is doing things in this church and community, things that we wouldn’t believe if someone told us. The Spirit is blowing, and while we can’t see it, we can feel our spines tingle when we recognize that God in Christ is moving the world. We can feel our hearts swell when we realize how we have been called to be a part of what God is doing. And we can hear our throats catch when we share how Christ has loved us, and how that same Good News can change the lives of those who hear it, again or for the first time.
May we all have hearts open enough to behold the new things that God is doing. I’d say we’re off to a good start: having a Presbyterian pastor serve a Lutheran congregation is still astounding me! God is good.

God is all in all,
Pastor Steve Shussett
(pronounced “shoe-sit”)