a sermon preached by the Rev Dr Tim W Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday January 21st, 2007
“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan "press on" has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race” -- Calvin Coolidge
READING: Matthew 25: 14-30
My joke this morning is so old not even Henny Youngman would touch it, but maybe with your help we can still make it work. I’ll give you the set-up, and then we can all say the punch-line together. This guy from the Midwest gets off the bus at the Port Authority in Manhattan, and having never been to New York before, he asks the first person he sees “Can you tell me how to get to Carnegie Hall?” And the New Yorker responds (all together now): “PRACTICE!”
Today’s sermon is the second in a little series of sermons I’m preaching as we count down toward our All Church Visioning Event on February 10th. Last Sunday, I spoke about “Time“ and the pressures of the so-called “extreme workplace,” as well as the important differences between “decisiveness” and “discernment,” and between living one’s life on the edge, and living at one’s center. And then two weeks from now I will be speaking about “Treasure,” and how we can best allocate the things we value most toward purposes which are truly worthwhile, and precious to us. And today’s topic, of course (as you can read in your order of service) is “Talent.” But all three of these themes come together around the larger question of how do we need to learn to “do church” differently here in the so-called “information age,” where Time is always at a premium, and our Talents and our Treasure often seem stretched to their limits?
In this first decade of the twenty-first century, truly meaningful connections with our fellow human beings often seem both easier to maintain and yet far more difficult to find in the first place. Our amazing communications technology has linked the entire globe together in real-time, yet often nowadays we find ourselves interfacing more frequently with our gadgets than actually seeing and talking with other people face to face. And as an historian, who basically spent several years of my life waking up every morning with my brain, at least, in the 19th century, this is fascinating to me.
175 years ago, when farmers from New England set out over the Oregon Trail in search of a better life in the Willamette Valley, they left their homes and extended families with the expectation that they might never see their loved ones again in this lifetime. Yet the quality of their correspondence, and their confident faith that they would someday be reunited again in a better place, created a palpable intimacy which sustained those relationships across the miles, and down over the years -- an intimacy often missing from our e-mails, and text messages, and long distance cellular phone calls today.
Yet at the same time, I look at things like the growth of Multiplayer On-Line Role Playing Games, and the proliferation of things like internet chat-rooms and the so-called Blogosphere, and I wonder what is the definition of a “real” community? More specifically, I’ve often asked myself the question: “Is there any future in a Virtual Church?” It seems quite possible, but I’m still a little skeptical. It seems to me that one of the principal attractions of the entire church experience is simply being a member of a “congregation” -- one of a group of people who have gathered in a meetinghouse in order to be together with their “neighbors and fellow creatures” on the Sabbath: a time set apart from the pressures and demands of the outside world in order to cultivate the possibility, at least, of profound relationship, and to create among themselves an authentic community.
And still, no matter how desperately we may seek to escape it, even if only for an hour, the relentless pace of the outside world still intrudes. No matter where we go, everything seems to move more rapidly today than it did two centuries ago. Attention spans are shorter, expectations are higher, people are less patient (or perhaps I should say, more impatient) and likewise more demanding. The desire to get whatever we want “Free, Perfect and Now” (which every consumer dreams of) may still be nothing but a fantasy, but even so, “Wholesale, the Very Best Available, and Overnight” has pretty much become the benchmark of excellent customer service these days, and the standard against which everything else is measured.
And this mentality has even trickled over into what academics and other experts who study these things sometimes call “Consumer Religion,” with it’s language of “marketing” to church “shoppers” by offering better “programs” and “services,” and promoting them with the same aggressiveness as any other commercial advertiser. Still, I think it’s important not to forget that Church has never really been a place where people come to acquire a commodity they desire. Rather, the church is more fundamentally a form of relationship...a community of faith, as well as a place where individuals congregate in order to learn how to bring out the best in themselves, and one another.
Which brings us at last to the topic of Talent. When I first arrived here at FRS nearly four years ago now, I asked our Nominating Committee to start thinking about their job a little bit differently than they customarily had in the past. Inspired by something I’d heard from Rebecca Parker (who is the President of the Starr King School for the Ministry in Berkeley), I asked them stop thinking so much about how they could recruit enough people to fill all the various volunteer “jobs” in the church, and rather start thinking about how to find a meaningful job for every church member: something that matched their skills, their interests, and most importantly their availability, and still contributed to the overall mission and purpose of the church in a significant way.
And I’m very proud to say that, from my perspective at least, they have really stepped up to that challenge pretty well. Not perfectly, of course; nothing in life is ever perfect. There are still some jobs here at FRS that have to be done whether or not anybody in the church is perfectly suited for them and eager to volunteer, and there are always a few people who, for whatever reason, are kept in reserve or choose to take a personal sabbatical. But since a big part of the mission of a church IS precisely to help people discover and bring out their hidden talents, this kind of approach to volunteerism is a big improvement over the old-fashioned “who can we get to do THAT this year?”
Often times folks already have a pretty good idea of what they want to do at their church anyway; they are just looking for permission to get started. And since Unitarian Universalists are without a doubt some of the most interesting, creative and talented people I know, their ideas often share those same qualities. (Of course, because of what I do for a living, I have to admit that I don’t actually know a lot of people who AREN’T Unitarian Universalists -- or at least who ought not to become one).
But when we recognize that the REAL work of a church like ours is to attempt to bring out the best in ourselves and in the lives of everyone we encounter, deciding (or maybe I should say discerning) precisely what it is we want to do is perhaps just as important as getting it done.
This is probably a pretty good opportunity to say just a little bit more about our upcoming All Church Visioning Event. I’ve never really participated in anything precisely like this before myself, and our District Executive Lynn Thomas, who will be facilitating the event, assures me that it will no doubt be significantly different from similar-sounding events some of you may have experienced in the past yourselves. Our slogan is “Bring Your Passion, Create a Plan.” And it’s going to be much more than merely an exercise in brainstorming ideas -- most of us could probably brainstorm more ideas in an afternoon than we could ever possibly achieve in a lifetime. Rather, this is an opportunity for us to discern which of our dreams is truly most important to us, and to share those dreams with others; and then, in a relatively short span of time, to meet together in small working groups to flesh out the details and begin to create viable action plans right there on the spot for making those dreams come true.
And of course, all of this is generated by your enthusiastic participation, and your personal response to the big, overarching question (which we’ve heard restated in many forms): what do you most aspire to see here at FRS any time in the foreseeable future?
An activity like this All-Church Visioning Event not only provides a great opportunity for figuring out what is truly important to us as a community, and then bringing those things into sharper focus -- it also incorporates an alternative understanding of “Leadership.” If you never paused to think about it carefully, it might easily be assumed that leaders are supposed to lead, to be in charge. The leader is supposedly the one with vision, who has all the answers, and tells us what to do; the leader is supposed to make all the hard decisions and solve all our problems, and all we really have to do is follow along and not ask too many questions. There are a lot of people in the world who think of leadership in just this way, and they generally get exactly the leaders they deserve.
But real leadership is actually a lot more complicated than this. And Shared Leadership -- where the so-called “followers” actually have a meaningful voice in determining where they go -- is even more complicated still. I’ve long believed that in a church the size of FRS, at least one-third of the membership of the congregation ought to have some sort of active, leadership role: which is to say that they have the authority to make independent decisions within their own agreed-upon area of responsibility, and also to organize and facilitate the participation of others, who may be perfectly willing to help with the tasks, but don’t want to have to take the time to figure it all out for themselves. And all this takes place within the framework of a larger set of well-understood and widely-shared organizational objectives, which they themselves have helped to create, and are deeply committed to.
I was talking with a colleague the other day who is having a little trouble getting the lawn mowed at his church on a regular basis. Actually, he’s been having this same problem for years. Every once in awhile someone will suggest to the Parish Committee that the church ought to just go ahead and hire a lawn service; then someone else will complain that it’s stupid to pay perfectly good money to hire someone do something that church members are perfectly capable of doing themselves, and who may even offer to take on the responsibility of organizing a group of volunteers (or at least serve on a committee charged with that duty), but before too long, the task of organizing volunteers to cut the grass becomes even more time consuming than actually cutting the grass itself; people get busy, and can’t or don’t follow through, the lawn becomes overgrown, and someone else suggests to the Parish Committee that the church really should just go ahead and hire a lawn service....
Does any of this sound familiar to you?
Just because we may be capable of doing something ourselves doesn’t necessarily mean that we ought to. Sometimes (in fact, often times), Time truly is more valuable than Money. Sometimes our Talents truly are better utilized in other ways.
Whenever I hear the word “talent,” I immediately associate it with musical talent -- something which this congregation is truly fortunate to be blessed with in abundance, and which I deeply appreciate because I have so little of it myself. Yet as any talented musician will tell you, it doesn’t really matter how “gifted” one may be, talent needs to be carefully and diligently developed in order to achieve its full potential. Those of us in the audience may witness the performance and feel overcome with awe, but it only countless hours of practice and rehearsal which make that performance possible.
I’ve never really been certain exactly what the distinction is, but in my understanding Practice is about building skill and proficiency through learning and repetition, while Rehearsal is generally about improving quality and consistency through focused practice of a particular piece of music. But obviously, there’s not really a sharp or clear distinction between the two -- at least not that I can see. And Performance, too, has a dynamic relationship to Practice and Rehearsal. I’m told that it is possible to become over-rehearsed, in that through too much repetition the passion is sometimes drained out of the performance; and also that improvisation is only possible after hours and hours of devoted practice. And naturally there are some pieces of music which are so difficult and complex that they are simply impossible to perform without significant practice, and rehearsal.
But if you stop to think about it, the music itself doesn’t really care whether we are practicing, or rehearsing, or performing. We perform before an audience. We rehearse with our fellow performers. We practice by ourselves. The process of learning and playing our part brings out and develops our natural talent, and improves our mastery of the music itself. And then ultimately, it is in the act of sharing that music that our talents find their full expression, and expand beyond merely our own personal pleasure and satisfaction.
And then there is always the Parable of the Talents, which has taught our civilization for two millennia now, that it is not the amount of talent we have, but what we do to develop our talents, that truly matters. So take that lesson with you as you leave this place, and return to the demands and the pressures of the world beyond these walls....
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
TIME
a sermon preached by the Rev. Dr. Tim W. Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday January 14th, 2007
I have to share with you all a story I heard last week at the Council on Aging Men’s breakfast.
This young, urban professional was out jogging through the park one day, when he came up on a guy sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper, with a big German Shepherd sitting at his feet. Having had a few too many bad experiences with dogs while jogging in the past, the jogger stopped called out “Does your dog bite?”
The man looked over the top of his newspaper and shook his head, so the jogger ran on by, and as he passed the bench the dog lunged out and bit him right where you might imagine it would hurt the most.
Naturally, the jogger was furious. “I thought you said your dog didn’t bite!” he shouted.
And the newspaper reader replied “That’s not MY dog....”
I know there are always a lot of Public Radio listeners in any UU congregation, so I’m just a little curious, -- how many of you heard the interview a few weeks back on WBUR with the author of a recent article in the Harvard Business Review about the proliferation of so-called “Extreme Jobs” in the American economy? For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, an “Extreme Job” is defined as any job which combines a 60-hour or more work-week with at least five of the following ten markers: an unpredictable work flow; fast-paced work under tight deadlines; an inordinate scope of responsibility essentially amounting to more than one job; work-related events outside of regular working hours; 24/7 client availability; Profit and Loss responsibilities; responsibility for recruiting and mentoring; large amounts of travel; a large number of “direct reports;” and physical presence at the workplace at least ten hours a day.
When I first heard this interview, I was immediately struck by two things. The first was how closely the job description of an extreme worker resembles that of a Parish Minister, and yet how little my own work experience (or the experiences of most other ministers I know, for that matter) has in common with what I was hearing described on the radio (and I’ll have a little more to say about that little later).
But the second thing that struck me was the realization how over the years the town of Carlisle has in many ways become a community of extreme workers (at least one which contains a disproportionate number of them in comparison to most other communities our size), and how this influences not only the personality of the town itself, but also the ways in which we need to learn to “do church” differently than we have traditionally done it in the past.
And then just to make things even a little more interesting, what is true in the larger sense of the “global information economy” in general, and in microcosm right here in Carlisle, is likewise true of Unitarian Universalism as a religious movement. Statistically, at least, Unitarian Universalists are among the best educated, most affluent religious demographic groups on the planet. Our median household income is in excess of $79,000, and fully one-half of us have earned at least one graduate degree. Talent and Treasure we possess in abundance. But Time itself -- the one commodity which we all receive each day in equal amount whether rich or poor -- is both in great demand and short supply.
I’ll have a lot more to say about these themes in the next few weeks, as we count down to our all-church visioning event on February 10th. But for the moment I just want to say a little more about the nature of extreme jobs themselves. In their Harvard Business Review article, researchers Sylvia Ann Hewlett and Carolyn Buck Luce describe extreme work as “The American Dream on Steroids.” Extreme jobs are proliferating throughout all sectors of the economy, but are especially common among high-caliber professionals and other “knowledge workers” employed in companies with global operations. The pace and pressures of extreme work are typically self-inflicted rather than imposed, and are worn like “badges of honor” by individuals who both love their jobs and feel exalted by them.
The oversized compensation packages which typically accompany such jobs are at best the third-most important motivating factor for men (and ranked dead last among women), behind such other considerations as intellectually-stimulating and challenging work, the opportunity to work with high-quality colleagues, status, power, recognition, respect, and the adrenaline rush which comes from working in a fast-paced, highly competitive environment.
Yet extreme workers also pay a price for these rewards. As the workplace becomes the new “social center” of their lives, home and family grow increasingly starved of time and attention, and often become significantly less appealing. To quote the report, “for many professionals, ‘home’ and ‘work’ have reversed roles. Home is the source of stress and guilt, while work has become the ‘haven in a heartless world’ -- the place where successful professionals get strokes, admiration, and respect.”
The headline in the Harvard “Crimson” the day the study was published in the Business Review read: “Extreme Jobs Threaten Sex Lives,” implying at least one compelling reason to pursue a liberal arts education rather than a career in investment banking. And in an almost stereotypically gendered fashion, women tend to be much more sensitive to these emotional sacrifices than men, which in turn has inspired several cultural critics to suggest that the growth of the extreme ethos may well represent simply a new tactic for reintroducing a glass ceiling into the American workplace.
According to the study, household maintenance, relationships with children, and relationships with one’s spouse all suffer significantly as a result of the extreme workplace. Yet in an ever-more competitive “winner take all” economy in which global operations and wireless interconnectivity are simply part of the landscape, “burning the midnight oil” is no longer just a means of getting ahead; it is often the only way one can keep up. And no matter how well we may learn to multi-task or leverage our efforts by working smarter rather than harder, there are still only so many hours in a day.
When I was younger and relatively new to the ministry, one of my older colleagues told me that the secret to success in this profession was “mastering the art of bi-location.” “Once you figure out how to be in two places at the same time,” he said, “this job is a snap.” And as I mentioned earlier, there are lots of ways in which the job of a parish minister resembles that of an extreme worker. Inordinate responsibilities amounting to more than one job are part of the core job description of ministry itself: as preachers, teachers, pastors and community leaders clergy combine the intellectual work of writing and scholarship with a significant amounts of public speaking, as well as broad responsibilities for both inspirational leadership and institutional management, the work of a helping professional, and even in relatively large churches often function as their own clerical support staff as well.
The four most stressful markers of an extreme work environment: unpredictable work flow, tight deadlines, work-related events outside of regular working hours, and 24/7 client availability, all simply come with the territory, while in this era of “shared ministry” the responsibility for recruiting and mentoring other people is an ever-expanding and increasingly more important part of a minister’s role. On the other hand, P/L responsibilities, the amount of travel, and the actual number of “direct reports” all vary greatly from minister to minister, depending mostly upon personal preference and the nature of the relationship between the minister and the countless number of volunteers who do so much of the hands-on work of the church. And the whole idea of a ten-hour workday simply seems a little silly to someone who literally lives at their workplace, and whose office phone also rings in the bedroom.
But as I also mentioned earlier, there are other ways in which a minister’s job is nothing like the “extreme” jobs described in the Harvard Business Review study, ways which reflect the profoundly different objectives and purposes of the respective workplaces, and which are far more significant then simply the significantly fewer zeros which tend to appear on your typical minister’s paycheck. And many of these differences also involve significantly different ways of understanding the significance of Time. In the business world, Time is Money. But in the world of the church, the world of religion and spirituality, Time is a sacred gift from our Creator, bounded by the miracle of our births and the inevitability of our deaths, and grounded in the posibility of a direct apprehension of eternity itself.
Let me try to elaborate on this a little. As I mentioned earlier, the extreme workplace thrives on the adrenaline rush of fast-paced, high-stakes competition. Some extreme workers even describe their sense of exhilaration in this demanding, high-pressure, high-performance environment as addictive, as thrilling and exciting as skydiving or mountain-climbing or any of the other popular “extreme sports” from which the extreme workplace takes its name. The extreme ethos is about pushing yourself to the limit, and proving your worth by going up against larger-than-life challenges and triumphing over them.
The Work of Faith shares many of these same qualities of discipline, sacrifice, commitment and strength of character. But ultimately it is more Contemplative than it is Competitive. It’s about being centered rather than living out on the edge, about accomplishment rather than achievement, and following your higher aspirations instead of your personal ambition. Persistence and tenacity are tempered by patience and self-control, along with a spirit of cooperation rather than a desire to impose one’s will on “the competition.” And the principle challenges and obstacles we seek to overcome are most frequently discovered somewhere within us rather than “out there” in the world.
And above all else, I think, the Life and Work of Faith entails developing and continually cultivating the skill of real Discernment rather than mere Decisiveness. I’m told that one of the first lessons they teach you in Business School is not to mistake activity for progress. And yet often in the fast-paced, competitive environment of the business world it’s better to make a quick decision than no decision at all.
During the Second World War, General Patton used to tell his field commanders that if they couldn’t tell in an instant which flank of an enemy position was the most favorable one to attack, they should simply pick one and attack it right away, since the difference between them was probably inconsequential, and the danger of remaining under enemy fire while making up your mind was always worse than making a mistake and attacking in the wrong place. And there are many other examples of situations in life where this same principle probably works perfectly well. If the right choice isn’t obvious, then you might as well just pick, since the difference between your choices probably isn’t all that great.
But there are other situations in life where the ability to be discerning, to distinguish between the subtle and nuanced differences of true or false, right or wrong, good or evil, is critically important, and it becomes essential NOT to make a decision until the right choice IS obvious, and perfectly clear within your own mind. And of course, these situations tend to be the ones where making the right decision truly IS important, since they involve the big choices about who we are and what we stand for, and the meaning and purpose of our lives.
To Decide means literally “to cut off” -- to reject any number of potential alternatives in order to pick the one you will pursue. But to Discern is to perceive clearly, so that you can accurately accurately distinguish one thing from another. Let me illustrate the difference between the two with an example that is painfully familiar to us all. We all know that the President is “the Decider.” But his powers of discernment often appear to leave a lot to be desired, and the whole world suffers as a result of that “intelligence failure.”
Here’s another example, from even closer at hand. I decided to become a UU minister in 1977, after discerning that this was the vocational path which best fit my interests, my skills, my values and aspirations at the time. But that decision did not make me a minister overnight. Rather, it simply set me on a path which over time would require many other subsequent decisions and discernment's, and led me places I would have never imagined going when I was a twenty-one year old college senior trying to figure out who I really was, and to decide what I really wanted to be when I grew up.
And now, half-a-lifetime later, looking back at where I’ve been and what I’ve done in my life so far, I can recognize that there were indeed times when decisive action was the right choice, and produced exactly the result I would have wished for. But more often than not the more difficult challenge was learning how to “wait patiently upon the Lord,” until my personal wishes aligned more closely with what I could clearly see were my larger hopes and dreams for myself, for those I loved, and for the wider world around me.
Once we have discerned that the values of home, family, authentic community and service to others are ultimately more important to us than the exhilarating rush of fast-paced, high-stakes competition (or even just the temporary thrill of leaping out of airplanes), the Church is an institution which can help us learn how to transform that decision into a real and tangible personal accomplishment. But before any of that can happen, we first each need to make that “leap of faith,” and commit ourselves to investing the time required to allow that choice to grow within us, and to become fulfilled “in the fullness of time.” We need to learn to sit quietly and “wait upon the Lord” until we clearly discern that “Still, Small Voice” which calls us to a higher purpose in our lives...
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday January 14th, 2007
I have to share with you all a story I heard last week at the Council on Aging Men’s breakfast.
This young, urban professional was out jogging through the park one day, when he came up on a guy sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper, with a big German Shepherd sitting at his feet. Having had a few too many bad experiences with dogs while jogging in the past, the jogger stopped called out “Does your dog bite?”
The man looked over the top of his newspaper and shook his head, so the jogger ran on by, and as he passed the bench the dog lunged out and bit him right where you might imagine it would hurt the most.
Naturally, the jogger was furious. “I thought you said your dog didn’t bite!” he shouted.
And the newspaper reader replied “That’s not MY dog....”
I know there are always a lot of Public Radio listeners in any UU congregation, so I’m just a little curious, -- how many of you heard the interview a few weeks back on WBUR with the author of a recent article in the Harvard Business Review about the proliferation of so-called “Extreme Jobs” in the American economy? For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, an “Extreme Job” is defined as any job which combines a 60-hour or more work-week with at least five of the following ten markers: an unpredictable work flow; fast-paced work under tight deadlines; an inordinate scope of responsibility essentially amounting to more than one job; work-related events outside of regular working hours; 24/7 client availability; Profit and Loss responsibilities; responsibility for recruiting and mentoring; large amounts of travel; a large number of “direct reports;” and physical presence at the workplace at least ten hours a day.
When I first heard this interview, I was immediately struck by two things. The first was how closely the job description of an extreme worker resembles that of a Parish Minister, and yet how little my own work experience (or the experiences of most other ministers I know, for that matter) has in common with what I was hearing described on the radio (and I’ll have a little more to say about that little later).
But the second thing that struck me was the realization how over the years the town of Carlisle has in many ways become a community of extreme workers (at least one which contains a disproportionate number of them in comparison to most other communities our size), and how this influences not only the personality of the town itself, but also the ways in which we need to learn to “do church” differently than we have traditionally done it in the past.
And then just to make things even a little more interesting, what is true in the larger sense of the “global information economy” in general, and in microcosm right here in Carlisle, is likewise true of Unitarian Universalism as a religious movement. Statistically, at least, Unitarian Universalists are among the best educated, most affluent religious demographic groups on the planet. Our median household income is in excess of $79,000, and fully one-half of us have earned at least one graduate degree. Talent and Treasure we possess in abundance. But Time itself -- the one commodity which we all receive each day in equal amount whether rich or poor -- is both in great demand and short supply.
I’ll have a lot more to say about these themes in the next few weeks, as we count down to our all-church visioning event on February 10th. But for the moment I just want to say a little more about the nature of extreme jobs themselves. In their Harvard Business Review article, researchers Sylvia Ann Hewlett and Carolyn Buck Luce describe extreme work as “The American Dream on Steroids.” Extreme jobs are proliferating throughout all sectors of the economy, but are especially common among high-caliber professionals and other “knowledge workers” employed in companies with global operations. The pace and pressures of extreme work are typically self-inflicted rather than imposed, and are worn like “badges of honor” by individuals who both love their jobs and feel exalted by them.
The oversized compensation packages which typically accompany such jobs are at best the third-most important motivating factor for men (and ranked dead last among women), behind such other considerations as intellectually-stimulating and challenging work, the opportunity to work with high-quality colleagues, status, power, recognition, respect, and the adrenaline rush which comes from working in a fast-paced, highly competitive environment.
Yet extreme workers also pay a price for these rewards. As the workplace becomes the new “social center” of their lives, home and family grow increasingly starved of time and attention, and often become significantly less appealing. To quote the report, “for many professionals, ‘home’ and ‘work’ have reversed roles. Home is the source of stress and guilt, while work has become the ‘haven in a heartless world’ -- the place where successful professionals get strokes, admiration, and respect.”
The headline in the Harvard “Crimson” the day the study was published in the Business Review read: “Extreme Jobs Threaten Sex Lives,” implying at least one compelling reason to pursue a liberal arts education rather than a career in investment banking. And in an almost stereotypically gendered fashion, women tend to be much more sensitive to these emotional sacrifices than men, which in turn has inspired several cultural critics to suggest that the growth of the extreme ethos may well represent simply a new tactic for reintroducing a glass ceiling into the American workplace.
According to the study, household maintenance, relationships with children, and relationships with one’s spouse all suffer significantly as a result of the extreme workplace. Yet in an ever-more competitive “winner take all” economy in which global operations and wireless interconnectivity are simply part of the landscape, “burning the midnight oil” is no longer just a means of getting ahead; it is often the only way one can keep up. And no matter how well we may learn to multi-task or leverage our efforts by working smarter rather than harder, there are still only so many hours in a day.
When I was younger and relatively new to the ministry, one of my older colleagues told me that the secret to success in this profession was “mastering the art of bi-location.” “Once you figure out how to be in two places at the same time,” he said, “this job is a snap.” And as I mentioned earlier, there are lots of ways in which the job of a parish minister resembles that of an extreme worker. Inordinate responsibilities amounting to more than one job are part of the core job description of ministry itself: as preachers, teachers, pastors and community leaders clergy combine the intellectual work of writing and scholarship with a significant amounts of public speaking, as well as broad responsibilities for both inspirational leadership and institutional management, the work of a helping professional, and even in relatively large churches often function as their own clerical support staff as well.
The four most stressful markers of an extreme work environment: unpredictable work flow, tight deadlines, work-related events outside of regular working hours, and 24/7 client availability, all simply come with the territory, while in this era of “shared ministry” the responsibility for recruiting and mentoring other people is an ever-expanding and increasingly more important part of a minister’s role. On the other hand, P/L responsibilities, the amount of travel, and the actual number of “direct reports” all vary greatly from minister to minister, depending mostly upon personal preference and the nature of the relationship between the minister and the countless number of volunteers who do so much of the hands-on work of the church. And the whole idea of a ten-hour workday simply seems a little silly to someone who literally lives at their workplace, and whose office phone also rings in the bedroom.
But as I also mentioned earlier, there are other ways in which a minister’s job is nothing like the “extreme” jobs described in the Harvard Business Review study, ways which reflect the profoundly different objectives and purposes of the respective workplaces, and which are far more significant then simply the significantly fewer zeros which tend to appear on your typical minister’s paycheck. And many of these differences also involve significantly different ways of understanding the significance of Time. In the business world, Time is Money. But in the world of the church, the world of religion and spirituality, Time is a sacred gift from our Creator, bounded by the miracle of our births and the inevitability of our deaths, and grounded in the posibility of a direct apprehension of eternity itself.
Let me try to elaborate on this a little. As I mentioned earlier, the extreme workplace thrives on the adrenaline rush of fast-paced, high-stakes competition. Some extreme workers even describe their sense of exhilaration in this demanding, high-pressure, high-performance environment as addictive, as thrilling and exciting as skydiving or mountain-climbing or any of the other popular “extreme sports” from which the extreme workplace takes its name. The extreme ethos is about pushing yourself to the limit, and proving your worth by going up against larger-than-life challenges and triumphing over them.
The Work of Faith shares many of these same qualities of discipline, sacrifice, commitment and strength of character. But ultimately it is more Contemplative than it is Competitive. It’s about being centered rather than living out on the edge, about accomplishment rather than achievement, and following your higher aspirations instead of your personal ambition. Persistence and tenacity are tempered by patience and self-control, along with a spirit of cooperation rather than a desire to impose one’s will on “the competition.” And the principle challenges and obstacles we seek to overcome are most frequently discovered somewhere within us rather than “out there” in the world.
And above all else, I think, the Life and Work of Faith entails developing and continually cultivating the skill of real Discernment rather than mere Decisiveness. I’m told that one of the first lessons they teach you in Business School is not to mistake activity for progress. And yet often in the fast-paced, competitive environment of the business world it’s better to make a quick decision than no decision at all.
During the Second World War, General Patton used to tell his field commanders that if they couldn’t tell in an instant which flank of an enemy position was the most favorable one to attack, they should simply pick one and attack it right away, since the difference between them was probably inconsequential, and the danger of remaining under enemy fire while making up your mind was always worse than making a mistake and attacking in the wrong place. And there are many other examples of situations in life where this same principle probably works perfectly well. If the right choice isn’t obvious, then you might as well just pick, since the difference between your choices probably isn’t all that great.
But there are other situations in life where the ability to be discerning, to distinguish between the subtle and nuanced differences of true or false, right or wrong, good or evil, is critically important, and it becomes essential NOT to make a decision until the right choice IS obvious, and perfectly clear within your own mind. And of course, these situations tend to be the ones where making the right decision truly IS important, since they involve the big choices about who we are and what we stand for, and the meaning and purpose of our lives.
To Decide means literally “to cut off” -- to reject any number of potential alternatives in order to pick the one you will pursue. But to Discern is to perceive clearly, so that you can accurately accurately distinguish one thing from another. Let me illustrate the difference between the two with an example that is painfully familiar to us all. We all know that the President is “the Decider.” But his powers of discernment often appear to leave a lot to be desired, and the whole world suffers as a result of that “intelligence failure.”
Here’s another example, from even closer at hand. I decided to become a UU minister in 1977, after discerning that this was the vocational path which best fit my interests, my skills, my values and aspirations at the time. But that decision did not make me a minister overnight. Rather, it simply set me on a path which over time would require many other subsequent decisions and discernment's, and led me places I would have never imagined going when I was a twenty-one year old college senior trying to figure out who I really was, and to decide what I really wanted to be when I grew up.
And now, half-a-lifetime later, looking back at where I’ve been and what I’ve done in my life so far, I can recognize that there were indeed times when decisive action was the right choice, and produced exactly the result I would have wished for. But more often than not the more difficult challenge was learning how to “wait patiently upon the Lord,” until my personal wishes aligned more closely with what I could clearly see were my larger hopes and dreams for myself, for those I loved, and for the wider world around me.
Once we have discerned that the values of home, family, authentic community and service to others are ultimately more important to us than the exhilarating rush of fast-paced, high-stakes competition (or even just the temporary thrill of leaping out of airplanes), the Church is an institution which can help us learn how to transform that decision into a real and tangible personal accomplishment. But before any of that can happen, we first each need to make that “leap of faith,” and commit ourselves to investing the time required to allow that choice to grow within us, and to become fulfilled “in the fullness of time.” We need to learn to sit quietly and “wait upon the Lord” until we clearly discern that “Still, Small Voice” which calls us to a higher purpose in our lives...
Sunday, January 7, 2007
A WHOLE NEW ERA
a sermon preached by the Rev Dr Tim W Jensen
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday January 7th, 2007
“Why is it we can remember the tiniest detail that has happened to us, and not remember how many times we have told it to the same person?” -- François de la Rochefoucauld (1613-1680)
I wanted to start out the New Year with something truly hilarious, but this was the best I could come up with:
THE TOP FIVE NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS FOR DOGS
• I will try to understand that the cat is from Venus and I am from Mars.
• I will take more time from my busy schedule to stop and smell the hydrants.
• I will always scoot before licking.
• I will grow opposable thumbs; break into the pantry; and decide for MYSELF how much food is too much.
• I will NOT chase the ball until I see it LEAVE HIS HAND....
I’m just a little curious, but how many of you have stopped recently to take a peek at the “Wall of Reverends” opposite the elevator outside my office? I don’t know whether you’ve ever really looked closely at the portraits there, but I see them almost every day. It may just be my imagination, or perhaps something about the way the pictures are hung, or even just simply that the whole building leans a little to the west, but it appears (to me, at least) that there is actually a small “stairstep” progressing from Woody’s portrait up to mine (or from mine down to Woody’s...depending upon which direction you start from).
Even more intriguing to me is the way that each of us appears to have been photographed in our “natural habitat.” Woody in his study, standing in front of the bookcase, looking appropriately erudite. Diane is standing out in front of the church, her robe draped over her arm, as if she is waiting to greet someone at the front door. Marguerite is standing right back there in front of the pipe organ, smiling and wearing the flaming chalice stole I assume she was given when she was designated Minister of Music, while my portrait was taken right down here in front of the pulpit, and shows me gesticulating wildly with my hands as if I were trying eagerly to communicate something truly wise and profound (or at least something profoundly obscure and confusing).
But the one small “detail” that always seems to give me pause, is when I take a moment to read the little metal plaques beneath our portraits, and am reminded once again that Woody began his ministry here at FRS in 1977 (which was the start of my Senior year of college at the University of Washington, and likewise the year I decided to apply to Divinity School instead of Law School); and that he retired from this pulpit in 2001 (which was the same year I finished my PhD at the University of Oregon).
Not having been here to witness it all myself, I can only imagine the kinds of changes that took place in this community during that almost quarter-century of parish ministry. But I do know that in my own life, during that same period of time, I finished my bachelor’s degree and earned three Masters degrees in addition to that PhD, was married (although not quite yet divorced by 2001), helped raise two stepchildren to the threshold of adulthood; gained nearly 100 pounds (and lost most of my once long, flowing, blond Viking hair); outlived four dogs, two cats, and countless other fish, birds, gerbils, hamsters, and other domestic rodents; lived on both coasts, plus deep in the heart of Texas and briefly overseas in the Scandinavian birthplace of my ancestors; and experienced (literally) half-a-lifetime’s worth of other “details” which I’m sure some of you have heard me talk about many times before, and which I won’t bother to bore you with now.
But as I said a moment ago, I can only imagine what kinds of comparable changes must have taken place here at FRS during that same period of time. Some of you though, I know, did experience personally all or most of that quarter-century of change; and in the three-and-a-half years that I’ve lived in here in Carlisle now, I’ve had a chance to listen to some of your stories, and learn a few of the details myself. I know, for example, that the most dramatic change which took place during that time was the construction of the “New Addition” (now more than a decade ago), along with the capital campaign which allowed that construction to take place, and the receipt of several significant bequests which made it possible to complete the project and even include an elevator large enough to accommodate a full-length casket (bequests which, thanks to Hal Sauer, are now appropriately commemorated on a plaque in the Addition stairwell). The pipe organ, the piano, and the harpsichord were also all new within that time frame, not to mention all of the births and deaths, the weddings, christenings and funerals, and the people who joined the church, and the people who (for whatever reason) left it during Woody’s tenure here.
But the one detail I hear over and over and over again is that as much as FRS has changed since 1977, the town of Carlisle itself has changed even more....
I have two favorite quotations regarding change. The first is once again from François de la Rochefoucauld, the 17th century French author I quoted at the beginning of the service. “The only thing constant in life is change.” The second is also from a Frenchman, this time the 19th century essayist and critic Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, who is responsible for that familiar and often-repeated aphorism “the more things change, the more they remain the same.” And somewhere in the shadows between these two glimpses of an ever-changing, never-changing world exists an immutable Truth about the nature of Reality itself, which, like the speed and location of an electron, shifts and changes simply as the result of our own attempts to pin it down.
The beginning of a New Year is likewise a time when the idea of change is naturally on our minds. Even if it is something as simple as remembering to write a seven instead of a six when we date the checks to pay our post-holiday bills, a particular sensitivity to change is all around us this time of year. Culturally, this is the season when we are encouraged to reflect upon our lives, and then to resolve to make the changes necessary to improve ourselves. And yet the one inescapable insight which inevitably emerges as the years come and go, is that even for those who are stubbornly resolved NEVER to change, the world still changes all around us whether we like it or not. The decision to avoid change, to continue simply doing things the same old way they have always been done, is in effect a decision to watch the world change without us, all the while falling further and further behind the times.
I also imagine that many people here today are aware of the importance of making “SMART” resolutions: of setting goals which are Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant (or perhaps simply Realistic) and, of course, Timely. Yet often times even the smartest of us have a difficult time achieving and maintaining our resolve to change, because we are literally of two minds about it. Our rational, logical mind may well see the wisdom and the advantages of change, and then attempt to muster all of the discipline and willpower at its command in order to take control of our lives and impose its Will upon our habitual behaviors.
But human beings are not, by nature, rational, logical creatures. We are rather (at least according to Jonathan Swift) only creatures CAPABLE of reason, and logic. There is also a more emotional, “animal-like” portion of our brains, and that half of our mind often has a very different set of priorities from the other.
The animal mind basically analyzes its environment in terms of some very simple dichotomies. Is it strange, or is it familiar? Is it painful, or is it pleasurable? Is it safe, or is it scary? Is it comfortable and routine, or difficult and confusing? Given a choice, our animal brains will always choose safe, comfortable, familiar and pleasant over difficult, unfamiliar, frightening and painful. Because, let’s face it, as far as the animal half of our brain is concerned, this is not rocket science. It’s just the path of least resistance -- surviving from one day to the next with as little effort as possible.
Conventional Wisdom has often said that the failure to achieve the change one aspires to is the result of a weakness of will. But eventually some people realized that it might actually be a lot easier to accomplish change successfully if both parts of our brains were working together. One of the manifestations of this insight is a discipline known as “Appreciative Inquiry,” which basically attempts to replace a model of change based on criticizing things you don’t like and attempting, by force of will, to transform them into something different, with one that seeks out things of positive worth and value and then builds upon them in order to create something better than it was before.
Sounds simple and logical, doesn’t it? The basic building blocks of Appreciative Inquiry are something called “The Four D’s” -- Discovery, Dreaming, Designing and Destiny (which used to be called “Delivery” until somebody realized that truly transformative change is actually a lot more dynamic than simply dropping off a package).
Discovery is about exploring and identifying core areas of Strength, Competency and Accomplishment: things that an individual, or an organization, truly do well and have been successful doing in the past. This phase is much more rigorous, however, than mere wishful thinking or the power of a positive attitude. It involves a truly appreciative, yet rigorous and systematic examination of values, accomplishments, strengths and resources in order to “discover and disclose positive capacity,” and to create an understanding of how those capabilities might be used to move forward.
The task of Dreaming is to “kindle the imagination,” to envision a changed future that is grounded in a vivid sense of what might be rather than a negative feeling that something is wrong. Its focus is on future potential rather than past shortcomings. Design incorporates these insights into a plan or an intentional process for making our Dreams come true. The final “D” -- Destiny -- reflects the experience that once this process is put into place, the actual change itself often begins to seem like an inevitable progression, rather than a difficult challenge to overcome. The Dream takes on a momentum all its own, because the Design has been build around one’s newly Discovered strengths, rather than merely an attempt to overcome one’s shortcomings by strength of will alone.
The Dream itself, I might add, needs to be more than just a fantasy, or wishful thinking. It truly does need to embody a Vision: something that we can imagine as clearly and vividly and tangibly as if it were right before our very eyes. And likewise, the pathway we design to take us there needs to be as familiar, comfortable, safe, pleasant and routine as we can possibly make it. By building upon the things we know and do well, we practice and improve our basic competencies so that, through repetition and rehearsal, the overall quality of our performance dramatically improves as well. And thus we change...not by becoming different than we are, but by becoming better than we were.
The techniques of Appreciative Inquiry were originally developed as a method for managing change in organizations, but the principles work just as well for individuals who desire to change their own lives. By closely examining who we truly are, in order to Discover what we do well, where we have been successful in the past and the future direction in which our passion calls us; by Dreaming and Imagining what it might look like if we actually fulfilled our unrealized potential; by Designing a “smart” plan to take us to that place, and then taking the necessary steps to fulfill that Destiny, we are capable of changing not only ourselves, but also the world in which we live, in very significant and dramatic ways.
Likewise, next month here at FRS we will begin a similar process for our entire congregation, as we prepare to celebrate our 250th anniversary of service to this community, and envision new ways of fulfilling our mission and our ministry here in Carlisle into the foreseeable future, and beyond. As you may have already seen or heard, on February 10th you are all invited to an all-church “Visioning Event,” during which we will begin to share our Dreams for the future of FRS, and likewise begin the process of Discovering the Resources and Designing the Plan that will allow us to fulfill that Destiny. I hope all of you will plan to attend, and that you will encourage all of your friends here at church to attend as well.
I’ve saved my favorite maxim regarding change for the last. Mohandas “Mahatma” Gandhi once said: “Be the change you want to see.” The original quotation continues “...in the world,” but you don’t generally see that part quoted any more, because the shorter maxim is actually more powerful. “Be the change you want to see” -- not just in the world, but in yourself, in your relationships, in your career, in your spiritual life and religious faith, in everything you do. And when you do, you will surprise yourself, with the potential you discover there....
at the First Religious Society in Carlisle, Massachusetts
Sunday January 7th, 2007
“Why is it we can remember the tiniest detail that has happened to us, and not remember how many times we have told it to the same person?” -- François de la Rochefoucauld (1613-1680)
I wanted to start out the New Year with something truly hilarious, but this was the best I could come up with:
THE TOP FIVE NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS FOR DOGS
• I will try to understand that the cat is from Venus and I am from Mars.
• I will take more time from my busy schedule to stop and smell the hydrants.
• I will always scoot before licking.
• I will grow opposable thumbs; break into the pantry; and decide for MYSELF how much food is too much.
• I will NOT chase the ball until I see it LEAVE HIS HAND....
I’m just a little curious, but how many of you have stopped recently to take a peek at the “Wall of Reverends” opposite the elevator outside my office? I don’t know whether you’ve ever really looked closely at the portraits there, but I see them almost every day. It may just be my imagination, or perhaps something about the way the pictures are hung, or even just simply that the whole building leans a little to the west, but it appears (to me, at least) that there is actually a small “stairstep” progressing from Woody’s portrait up to mine (or from mine down to Woody’s...depending upon which direction you start from).
Even more intriguing to me is the way that each of us appears to have been photographed in our “natural habitat.” Woody in his study, standing in front of the bookcase, looking appropriately erudite. Diane is standing out in front of the church, her robe draped over her arm, as if she is waiting to greet someone at the front door. Marguerite is standing right back there in front of the pipe organ, smiling and wearing the flaming chalice stole I assume she was given when she was designated Minister of Music, while my portrait was taken right down here in front of the pulpit, and shows me gesticulating wildly with my hands as if I were trying eagerly to communicate something truly wise and profound (or at least something profoundly obscure and confusing).
But the one small “detail” that always seems to give me pause, is when I take a moment to read the little metal plaques beneath our portraits, and am reminded once again that Woody began his ministry here at FRS in 1977 (which was the start of my Senior year of college at the University of Washington, and likewise the year I decided to apply to Divinity School instead of Law School); and that he retired from this pulpit in 2001 (which was the same year I finished my PhD at the University of Oregon).
Not having been here to witness it all myself, I can only imagine the kinds of changes that took place in this community during that almost quarter-century of parish ministry. But I do know that in my own life, during that same period of time, I finished my bachelor’s degree and earned three Masters degrees in addition to that PhD, was married (although not quite yet divorced by 2001), helped raise two stepchildren to the threshold of adulthood; gained nearly 100 pounds (and lost most of my once long, flowing, blond Viking hair); outlived four dogs, two cats, and countless other fish, birds, gerbils, hamsters, and other domestic rodents; lived on both coasts, plus deep in the heart of Texas and briefly overseas in the Scandinavian birthplace of my ancestors; and experienced (literally) half-a-lifetime’s worth of other “details” which I’m sure some of you have heard me talk about many times before, and which I won’t bother to bore you with now.
But as I said a moment ago, I can only imagine what kinds of comparable changes must have taken place here at FRS during that same period of time. Some of you though, I know, did experience personally all or most of that quarter-century of change; and in the three-and-a-half years that I’ve lived in here in Carlisle now, I’ve had a chance to listen to some of your stories, and learn a few of the details myself. I know, for example, that the most dramatic change which took place during that time was the construction of the “New Addition” (now more than a decade ago), along with the capital campaign which allowed that construction to take place, and the receipt of several significant bequests which made it possible to complete the project and even include an elevator large enough to accommodate a full-length casket (bequests which, thanks to Hal Sauer, are now appropriately commemorated on a plaque in the Addition stairwell). The pipe organ, the piano, and the harpsichord were also all new within that time frame, not to mention all of the births and deaths, the weddings, christenings and funerals, and the people who joined the church, and the people who (for whatever reason) left it during Woody’s tenure here.
But the one detail I hear over and over and over again is that as much as FRS has changed since 1977, the town of Carlisle itself has changed even more....
I have two favorite quotations regarding change. The first is once again from François de la Rochefoucauld, the 17th century French author I quoted at the beginning of the service. “The only thing constant in life is change.” The second is also from a Frenchman, this time the 19th century essayist and critic Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, who is responsible for that familiar and often-repeated aphorism “the more things change, the more they remain the same.” And somewhere in the shadows between these two glimpses of an ever-changing, never-changing world exists an immutable Truth about the nature of Reality itself, which, like the speed and location of an electron, shifts and changes simply as the result of our own attempts to pin it down.
The beginning of a New Year is likewise a time when the idea of change is naturally on our minds. Even if it is something as simple as remembering to write a seven instead of a six when we date the checks to pay our post-holiday bills, a particular sensitivity to change is all around us this time of year. Culturally, this is the season when we are encouraged to reflect upon our lives, and then to resolve to make the changes necessary to improve ourselves. And yet the one inescapable insight which inevitably emerges as the years come and go, is that even for those who are stubbornly resolved NEVER to change, the world still changes all around us whether we like it or not. The decision to avoid change, to continue simply doing things the same old way they have always been done, is in effect a decision to watch the world change without us, all the while falling further and further behind the times.
I also imagine that many people here today are aware of the importance of making “SMART” resolutions: of setting goals which are Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant (or perhaps simply Realistic) and, of course, Timely. Yet often times even the smartest of us have a difficult time achieving and maintaining our resolve to change, because we are literally of two minds about it. Our rational, logical mind may well see the wisdom and the advantages of change, and then attempt to muster all of the discipline and willpower at its command in order to take control of our lives and impose its Will upon our habitual behaviors.
But human beings are not, by nature, rational, logical creatures. We are rather (at least according to Jonathan Swift) only creatures CAPABLE of reason, and logic. There is also a more emotional, “animal-like” portion of our brains, and that half of our mind often has a very different set of priorities from the other.
The animal mind basically analyzes its environment in terms of some very simple dichotomies. Is it strange, or is it familiar? Is it painful, or is it pleasurable? Is it safe, or is it scary? Is it comfortable and routine, or difficult and confusing? Given a choice, our animal brains will always choose safe, comfortable, familiar and pleasant over difficult, unfamiliar, frightening and painful. Because, let’s face it, as far as the animal half of our brain is concerned, this is not rocket science. It’s just the path of least resistance -- surviving from one day to the next with as little effort as possible.
Conventional Wisdom has often said that the failure to achieve the change one aspires to is the result of a weakness of will. But eventually some people realized that it might actually be a lot easier to accomplish change successfully if both parts of our brains were working together. One of the manifestations of this insight is a discipline known as “Appreciative Inquiry,” which basically attempts to replace a model of change based on criticizing things you don’t like and attempting, by force of will, to transform them into something different, with one that seeks out things of positive worth and value and then builds upon them in order to create something better than it was before.
Sounds simple and logical, doesn’t it? The basic building blocks of Appreciative Inquiry are something called “The Four D’s” -- Discovery, Dreaming, Designing and Destiny (which used to be called “Delivery” until somebody realized that truly transformative change is actually a lot more dynamic than simply dropping off a package).
Discovery is about exploring and identifying core areas of Strength, Competency and Accomplishment: things that an individual, or an organization, truly do well and have been successful doing in the past. This phase is much more rigorous, however, than mere wishful thinking or the power of a positive attitude. It involves a truly appreciative, yet rigorous and systematic examination of values, accomplishments, strengths and resources in order to “discover and disclose positive capacity,” and to create an understanding of how those capabilities might be used to move forward.
The task of Dreaming is to “kindle the imagination,” to envision a changed future that is grounded in a vivid sense of what might be rather than a negative feeling that something is wrong. Its focus is on future potential rather than past shortcomings. Design incorporates these insights into a plan or an intentional process for making our Dreams come true. The final “D” -- Destiny -- reflects the experience that once this process is put into place, the actual change itself often begins to seem like an inevitable progression, rather than a difficult challenge to overcome. The Dream takes on a momentum all its own, because the Design has been build around one’s newly Discovered strengths, rather than merely an attempt to overcome one’s shortcomings by strength of will alone.
The Dream itself, I might add, needs to be more than just a fantasy, or wishful thinking. It truly does need to embody a Vision: something that we can imagine as clearly and vividly and tangibly as if it were right before our very eyes. And likewise, the pathway we design to take us there needs to be as familiar, comfortable, safe, pleasant and routine as we can possibly make it. By building upon the things we know and do well, we practice and improve our basic competencies so that, through repetition and rehearsal, the overall quality of our performance dramatically improves as well. And thus we change...not by becoming different than we are, but by becoming better than we were.
The techniques of Appreciative Inquiry were originally developed as a method for managing change in organizations, but the principles work just as well for individuals who desire to change their own lives. By closely examining who we truly are, in order to Discover what we do well, where we have been successful in the past and the future direction in which our passion calls us; by Dreaming and Imagining what it might look like if we actually fulfilled our unrealized potential; by Designing a “smart” plan to take us to that place, and then taking the necessary steps to fulfill that Destiny, we are capable of changing not only ourselves, but also the world in which we live, in very significant and dramatic ways.
Likewise, next month here at FRS we will begin a similar process for our entire congregation, as we prepare to celebrate our 250th anniversary of service to this community, and envision new ways of fulfilling our mission and our ministry here in Carlisle into the foreseeable future, and beyond. As you may have already seen or heard, on February 10th you are all invited to an all-church “Visioning Event,” during which we will begin to share our Dreams for the future of FRS, and likewise begin the process of Discovering the Resources and Designing the Plan that will allow us to fulfill that Destiny. I hope all of you will plan to attend, and that you will encourage all of your friends here at church to attend as well.
I’ve saved my favorite maxim regarding change for the last. Mohandas “Mahatma” Gandhi once said: “Be the change you want to see.” The original quotation continues “...in the world,” but you don’t generally see that part quoted any more, because the shorter maxim is actually more powerful. “Be the change you want to see” -- not just in the world, but in yourself, in your relationships, in your career, in your spiritual life and religious faith, in everything you do. And when you do, you will surprise yourself, with the potential you discover there....
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