Legos in Church

One of my best friends visited our church last week. Despite the fact that she is a woman in her 30s, she grabbed a children’s bulletin from the basket and a pew pouch full of markers and pencils from our kid’s cart. She sat during the entirety of our service, drawing pictures while listening to the music and taking in the liturgy of worship. We went out to lunch after the service, and she noted how grateful she was that we offer opportunities for people to draw, color and create while worshipping with us. It reminded me of an experience I had at my last church during worship. On that particular morning, I grabbed a pen from my purse and scribbled this musing on the back of a bulletin… 

It is 9:20am and I am sitting in church watching a little boy in the pew in front of me play with Legos. We are nearing the end of the worship service, singing the final hymn, and this boy is standing, his body turned toward the pew, working out a configuration with the fifty or so Lego pieces he has scattered across the pew. He is focused. He has made a Lego lab and his attention is rapt on how to finalize this structure before the closing hymn finishes. All around him, people timidly flirt with the higher notes of an ancient song. All around him, people stand looking up, while he crouches, looking down, lost in his own world.

On this particular Sunday, I get very little out of the service. This is a common lament of pastors who serve churches—we are in work mode when we step into the building and rarely get our spiritual buckets filled.

I am jealous of this boy. As someone with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I envy the freedom he inhibits, playing with his toys throughout the liturgy of the morning. I want those Legos when I start fidgeting from sitting for too long. I want them so I can listen to the sermon better, having something in my hands to work with instead of attempting to focus for as long as I can. I want those Legos because I want to be a kid again with the permission to play, get lost, wonder, and fidget. 

I want those Legos because I want to get lost in a world outside of the ingrained practice of sitting down and standing up. I’m sick of church liturgy. I don’t understand the appeal of being inside of a building on a Sunday morning when God is so clearly outside, showing off to the world with Her colorful sunrises, bright red tulips, graceful herons. 

Maybe I’m burnt out. Maybe I’m in the wrong profession. Or maybe I have a vision of church as a place where Legos sit in Ziplock baggies at the end of each pew, inviting us to imagine the world we want to inhabit through a handful of colorful blocks. Is the kingdom of God a dragon today or a submarine? Is it spread wide or built tall? Does it accommodate those who fidget, those who daydream, those who wonder what is beyond the walls? 

I love how 10-year-old Ellen McLaughlin often comes up to me after the service and shows me what she drew that hour. This past week, it was a panda. I am so glad that she feels the freedom and comfort to illustrate what her mind sees while being surrounded by a church family that welcomes her style of worship. 

I believe that God is in the hymns we sing, the eye contact we share on Sunday mornings and the sacred act of taking communion together. I also believe that God is creative, playful and free. My God has legos in one hand, and communion bread in the other, inviting me to stretch my understanding of what is holy and celebrate the prayers and pandas all the same.

All the answers?

This fall, our young adults are embarking on a six-week Sunday school series titled “The Bible and Moral Debate.”

This series is adapted from a class taught at Brown University, in which students read about a contemporary topic through a biblical perspective. Not only do the students learn about these hot topics, they actually read relevant articles from several author’s opposing viewpoints. 

Our class met for the first time this past Sunday and discussed “The Bible and the Environment.” We explored voices who believe that the Bible is anti-environment as well as voices that believe it is pro-environment.

Suffice it to say, this fostered great discussion about how different Christian voices approach the creation story, the story of Adam Eve, and several of Jesus’ parables. We learned about the ways in which the book of Revelation and its apocalyptic visions could point to a future exploitation of the earth and its resources or a future reconciliation of human beings to the earth. Don’t worry, we’ve got all the answers now!  

The Bible is a big book. It was never meant to be read alone. Now more than ever, it is important to dig into the text, together, and hear how both sides of the aisle interpret its stories. It may be an old book, but it certainly speaks to the contemporary moral issues of our day. Looking forward, our class will examine the following topics throughout the fall: capital punishment, homosexuality, abortion, genocide, and race, slavery and segregation. 

For any young adults interested, join us Sundays at 9am in the Fellowship Hall (no class on 9/1 or 9/22)!  

The Delmar Divide: Our Time in St. Louis

A few weeks ago, me and Jeff took the youth on a trip to St. Louis, Missouri to learn about racial reconciliation in the city. We went with our friends from Lindenwood Christian Church in Memphis, as well as some new friends from Harvard Avenue Christian Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma. 

There were some familiar aspects to this trip: we slept in bunk beds, ate a lot of ham sandwiches and of course, played ultimate frisbee. But the landscape of St. Louis differed significantly from our trip last summer in Tucson. 

We began our week learning about the Delmar Divide. This divide is a literal street, Delmar Boulevard, that shows a clear division between people based on their race and socioeconomic status. The wealthy, mostly white people live on one side of the boulevard. The people of color with less resources live on the other. As we drove along the boulevard, we quickly saw the historic mansions and lush green lawns turn into low-income housing and food deserts. Of course we see this contrast in Nashville, but to me, it doesn’t manifest in a single street. 

We spent the week learning from several historically Black, Disciples of Christ churches that work to combat this inequitable divide. We visited non-profit organizations and community gardens working to do the same. We began to understand the ways in which zoning, redlining and gentrification can affect the livelihood and basic needs of our neighbors. We also began to see the ways in which churches and organizations have come together to address this issue from a collaborative approach. It really does take a village. 

One of the most powerful activities from this trip involved drawing a map of our own city. I watched as Calin, Liam and Quinn drew their schools, our parks and yes, Vine Street! I also watched as they drew places or areas of town where they have seen homeless encampments or people sleeping outside. Upon reflection, we noticed that the further outside of downtown we went, the more low-income neighborhoods and stark racial divides appeared. The exercise was very telling: yes, we drew Centennial Park, but we also drew the shadow-side of the city. 

It is often hard to know what to do in light of Nashville’s own visible or invisible divides. Our church is situated in a wealthy area of the city, with grocery stores, parks and schools all around us. By all accounts, we’re on the “good” side of the Delmar Divide. In light of that, how could we as a church take a good, honest look at our neighborhood and city and work to bring about systemic and local change? I see the ways in which Open Table, Room in the Inn, Safe Haven and many other organizations are tackling issues like homelessness, racism, and classism. How can we collaborate with them to bring about the kingdom of God, on earth as it is in heaven? 

As the summer months grow hotter and the winter months grow colder, I wonder what we as Christians will do,  whether it is advocacy down at the capitol or direct efforts around town, to eradicate these dangerous divides? 

The youth will speak on Sunday, July 21st, about their experience in St. Louis. Join me in worship as we listen to the prophetic voices of young people who hope to bring light to the shadows of our city. 

What is Margie up to this Summer?

1. Ecumenical Pride Service: Together with churches all over the Nashville area, Vine Street is collaborating with Christ Church Cathedral to put on a Pride Ecumenical Service on Thursday, June 20th at 7pm. Join me at Christ Church Cathedral as I preside over the table and as pastors from across many denominations come together to preach, worship, and celebrate the fullness of God’s love for our LGBTQ+ siblings.

2. St. Louis Youth Trip: Along with Jeff Miller, I will lead the youth on another “Be the Neighbor” trip in June. We will learn about and address the issue of racial reconciliation in St. Louis, Missouri. I look forward to a week of being challenged and convicted with our young people. 

3. Serving as a “Be the Neighbor” Site Director: Beginning this Sunday, June 9th, Vine Street will host four visiting church groups this June and July through “Be the Neighbor.” My fellow Co-Site Director and ordained Disciples minister, Ben Saunders, and I have put together educational and inspirational weeks of programming where these groups will learn about and volunteer at organizations addressing the housing and homeless crisis in Nashville. Group will spend time serving at organizations like Room in the Inn, The Store, Nashville LAUNCHpad, the Nashville Food Project, and more. We will also hear from several speakers who are doing on-the-ground work to eliminate homelessness in our city. Additionally, Vine Street will host two “Be the Neighbor” interns who we will introduce to the congregation this Sunday! Please make them feel welcome during their time here! 

4. Residency in Monteagle: During the week of June 30th-July 5th, I will serve as the Guest Minister at Monteagle Sunday School Assembly. Beginning on the 30th, I will conduct the Sunday morning service, four Twilight Prayer services each evening and lead a Bible study during the week. I’m looking forward to being in an ecumenical community in the mountains! 

*Please mark your calendar for June 30th; we will have a special guest preacher at Vine Street, Reverend Cherisna Jean-Marie. She is our new Dean of the Disciple Divinity House at Vanderbilt Divinity School.

5. Pastoral Care with YOU: I cherish the meals and walks with you in which I get to know you better and grow in our shared love of community together. Please do not hesitate to reach out to me to schedule a time to meet. I am here to listen, pray and be a presence.

Sustained Support

Back in the fall of 2019, I received a phone call from a pastor named Kim Ryan. She asked me if I’d like to join “Bethany Fellows,” a program for newly ordained Disciples of Christ ministers serving in their first or second call and transitioning from seminary student to congregational minister. 

Once I heard Kim pitch the program to me, I gave an emphatic “Yes!” I was unemployed and not ordained at the time, but I had a few mentors pulling for me to connect with other post-seminarians around my age. 

Bethany Fellows began a few decades ago after a national study revealed that 40% of young, newly ordained pastors left ministry due to isolation, debt and burnout. This program hopes to keep young people in ministry through bi-annual retreats, monthly small group check ins, and a lot of sustained prayers from countless mentors. The outcome? 90% of Bethany Fellows are still in ministry and 70% of Fellows are still in congregational ministry. 

Since my first retreat in Buffalo, Minnesota back in 2019, I have had the company of learning how to do ministry with other young people who are engaged in this “odd and wondrous calling.”

I have had the opportunity to travel to Northern California, Arizona, Minnesota, North Carolina and Chicago. Due to Covid, we had four retreats over Zoom and had to get pretty creative. For one of them, I drove out to a farm in Arkansas with four other Fellows to take our online experience and make it a more communal one. 

During these retreats, we learn “wise practices” that we can incorporate into our jobs, we spend time in small groups, and we worship together. While these are enriching parts of the week, the most important day for me is the Wednesday of every retreat: the mandatory day of silence.

This may seem ironic given that I love to talk, but I can’t tell you how much I have savored a day of silence. When I quiet my mind and am offered the built-in space and time to be silent, I am able to reflect on and notice what God is up to in my life. Sometimes, the silence is painful. It means that I have to face my own grief, confusion or burn out. Sometimes, it is the best kind of balm. I get to read and journal uninterrupted. I get to take slow walks and big naps. I always leave that 24 hour period wanting another day of quiet. I have come to depend on that pocket of stillness twice a year. 

My time in Phoenix last month was bittersweet as I said goodbye to the other Fellows. I have learned so much from them, mostly that we can’t do ministry alone. Jesus shows me that in the way he gathered a big group of friends to help him share the good news. I have been fortunate to meet other pastors who are now rooted in my life, who remind me to use all of my vacation days, let the small stuff go, and to always reach out for help when I feel lost or lonely. 

On the final night of our retreat, I led closing worship with my dear friend, Christy Jo. We sang, prayed poems, and broke bread with the group. At one point, I shared something I had written during my day of silence. Here is a refrain:

“I have shown up here unemployed. I have shown up here not yet a Reverend. I have shown up here grieving the loss of a family member, nursing a sports injury, weary from church strife. I have shown up here jealous of your church growth, wondering if I am holy enough, in need of a fellow pastor to nod their head and say, “I get it!” I have shown up newly ordained and newly employed. I have shown up here medicated and anxious. I have never shown up alone. 

I have shown up here witnessing your transitions: you who have had babies or gotten married or changed jobs, and you who have ended marriages, been through the pain of infertility and lost jobs. You have never shown up here alone.” 

God is good. She shows us that She is a triune God who doesn’t believe that we should do this following-Jesus-stuff alone. I will face many ups and downs in ministry, but thanks to Bethany Fellows, I will not face them alone. 

P.S. I can’t thank Vine Street enough for funding my last two retreats. Your financial support for my last two retreats show me that you believe in the importance of community and camaraderie in ministry, and that you believe in my spiritual well-being as a faith leader. 

Added / Taken

The season of Lent has snuck up on me once again. As I reflect on years past, I realize that I have added and taken away all kinds of practices for Lent. Here are a few…

Added: meditation for fifteen minutes a day, writing a letter to someone I love every evening, journaling six pages every morning. 

Taken away: social media, sweets, phone usage in the evening and morning. 

Whether I feel the need to add or take away something in my life for Lent, it’s clear that I love an intentional spiritual practice that challenges and enriches me. Until this year. Sure, I’ve thought about different things I could try: take a walk every morning, read from a devotional every evening, withhold from gossiping. But nothing seems to resonate this Lenten season. 

I asked my Spiritual Director about this and she told me to take the pressure off of myself; that I was being too hard on myself about finding the perfect practice to get me all self-reflective for the next forty days. As we kept talking, I mentioned that I was getting a new puppy later that week, and that I hoped she would become a “church” dog that I could take to work. “Well then,” she said, “sounds like you found your spiritual practice.” 

She encouraged me to see the first forty days of raising this puppy as a Lenten discipline; the fasting of sleep that it will inevitably require, the fear of my puppy’s death as I pull it away from cords, and the constant vigilance of taking care of another being. There’s not a lot of self-reflection in this practice, but there is surely a lot of self-emptying. I am already experiencing the loss of sleep and, for now, quality time with my partner. Friends come over and I can hardly be present because I am watching this puppy like a hawk! It may seem small, but it is a sudden, drastic change in my usually flexible, self-centered life. 

Luckily, we have a savior who is in solidarity with all of the fatigue and distraction I feel. A puppy is such an embarrassingly small comparison, but I think Jesus gets it. He knew something about losing his autonomy and freedom in order to love others tirelessly and he knew something about all of us who want to get faith “right” instead of doing faith honestly. 

I don’t know what I am trying to say here, other than that it felt nice to hear my Spiritual Director assure me that I can let go of trying to do something I deem “holy” for Lent this year and just take care of a new, living thing right now. I’m finding holiness in the ordinary of daily life with Jo. I haven’t caught a sunrise in years, but Jo’s relentless whining yesterday morning allowed me to smile at the sky. 

What are you planning to do for Lent this year? If you need ideas, there are still six puppies left in Jo’s litter… 

Peace, 

Margie