I Disdain WASPS and WASPiness; and I’m Part of the Problem

A few weeks back, a colleague of mine posted this on her Facebook timeline:  “There was a wasp in the house and I sucked it up in the vacuum cleaner but now I have to take the vacuum to the dump to be incinerated.” 

I really don’t like wasps, and I have a lot of affinity with her assessment.  But when someone

posted a graphic-language-containing-meme about wasps and bees in the comments to the original post, I found myself thinking about WASPs.  The meme suggested that wasps exist only to (and this is the sanitized version) “mess stuff up.”  But whether it involved the insects for W.A.S.P.y people and ideas—the meme was still right! 

I’m hoping there’s a better solution to the problem of wasps or WASPs than incinerating the vacuum cleaners of the world! 

So yesterday, after worship—I was horrified when I realized it—I came face to face with my W.A.S.P. male privilege. 

I was introducing the newly elected co-Moderators of the 222^nd General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)—as I do each time the Assembly meets, introducing the congregation I serve to the Assembly’s elected leadership and the ambassadors of the Assembly’s work for the next 104 weeks.  Unlike other years, this year—because there were only 2 co-Moderator teams to choose from, because I was somewhat familiar with all 4 co-Moderator candidates, because one candidate was from my own Presbytery, and 2 of the others I had either met, heard in person, or share regularly in blog posts, I felt confident enough to introduce the newly elected co-moderators without notes, a stat-sheet, or the official General Assembly press release in hand. 

Here’s what I said: 

“…Denise Anderson, who is a teaching elder and an African-American woman from National Capitol Presbytery, the other is Jan Edmiston, a teaching elder and the Associate Presbytery Executive for the Presbytery of Chicago.” 

See what I did there? 

I remember feeling the need to tell the congregation that Denise was African-American—sort of like a radio-broadcaster, having to describe the scene—“oh, and you need or want to know that Denise is black.” 

Well…, she is.  But maybe that shouldn’t be the main point! 

I wanted the congregation to know that we had elected a co-Moderator team, a beautifully diverse team.  I could have said that, but I didn’t.  From my privileged place—I was taught (?), I am want—to not have to describe everyone racially.  I’d prefer that “people were people,” and even then, I could have just left off that Denise is African-American. 

But by naming Denise as an African-American but then not naming Jan as white—I left people to “assume” that everyone should understand Jan was white, implying, of course, that somehow Jan is OK, that she’s ‘like us,’ that she’s ‘not-different.”  In fact, such an introduction could subtly imply that somehow Jan is more of a moderator than Denise.  I’m horrified because that’s what we privileged people do—we even unconsciously offer subtle hints about whom to trust and follow, treating people differently in just the right ways. 

Yet this was explicitly NOT what I thought, think, or believe. 

And I must do this in any number of ways. 

And therein lies the problem.  I am blinded by what has been usual and customary for me, believing I can see a world without color or distinction because I don’t have to think about it every day.  Privilege.  I have it.  Others don’t.  It’s unfair.  It’s unequal.  It stinks.  It more than stinks. 

I didn’t mean to suggest anything other than describing Denise by my comment, well, other than being sinfully proud that my denomination had the courage, insight, and giftedness to call a wonderfully gifted and diverse co-Moderator team.  It matters for important reasons that Denise is African-American and Jan is white.  It is a blessing and gift to have called two women to serve as the first co-Moderators of the General Assembly, and that it was not two white women (that would match the overwhelming lack of diversity our denomination possesses) but that it was a woman of color and a woman of privilege who if nothing else can model for us and encourage us to continue to have the conversation about race and privilege! 

And I hope I’d be right and saying that as a denomination we’re mostly ready, even if some of us don’t always act like it! 

And maybe the election of Co-Moderators of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) isn’t such an earth-shattering accomplishment in the greater scheme of things.  But this time, it’s offered me the chance of reflection and repentance in my own way of being.  The whole world might not yet be changed, but my world can be different.  And it’s a blessing and a gift. 

I believe the door to freedom is standing open.  We just have to have the courage and conviction to walk through it. 

© Rev. David Stipp-Bethune; Teaching Elder and Pastor, The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch, Havertown, Pennsylvania

Treating Worship Like the Beach

With the arrival of summer—which despite the local school schedule actually arrives Memorial Day weekend rather than the equinox—worship attendance numbers for the suburban, Philadelphia-area-congregation I serve really plummet.  The culprit is the reality that here so many people spend summer weekends “down to shore.”  For those of us NOT at the shore, it’s immediately noticed in a significant reduction in traffic and gridlock (unless you’re going or coming from said shore on Fridays or Sundays, respectively).  But it’s really, really noticeable at Church. 

Sure, in most congregations Sunday worship attendance patterns change during the summer vacation season.  But this is like people moving away for part of the year.  Programming—outside of worship, stops.  And worship itself is so sparsely attended you think something’s gone terribly wrong. 

I’ve tried to not be overly panicked when summer attendance tanks.  I’m a strong proponent of biblical sabbath; it’s just that people here more than other places seem to save it up all year and spend it over the summer.  And I know people have to be away; they should be away—family trips, and visiting extended family, and other things are really, important, I get it—and I really do hope people aren’t so glued to their Sunday pews that they get chances to enjoy trips and family time and God’s creation. 

But I also think this isn’t just a summertime issue anymore.  The Church has lots of Sunday competition—and this isn’t the old “woe is us” argument about youth sports and grocery stores being open on Sundays.  This spring, church members I’m familiar with faced a gauntlet of events and activities from weddings of family and friends, to participating in fundraisers for organizations they cared about, to family funerals, to continuing education conferences and retreats, to 10k races in the community, family reunions, and family health crises.  “Sleeping in,” “baseball and lacrosse games,” and “grocery shopping,” didn’t keep people out of worship!  This year, the number one worship-attendance-killer for the congregation I serve was probably people getting married.  There’s lots of shouting about marriage these days, but no one’s arguing against it because it hurts Sunday worship attendance. 

So I’ve been reflecting a lot about many of the things David Lose puts forth in his recent book, Preaching at the Crossroads.  Lose reminds us that we’re not only preaching to a different culture than in years past, but that worship needs to have a different role in our lives.  Gone are the days when people wander into church looking for expert advice on biblical or even cultural topics.  Any person with an iphone can easily peruse biblical and theological scholarship on any given passage or topic.  This doesn’t diminish the role or importance of the preacher; but it does give witness to worship that’s being cultivated and used by younger generations and people who are newer to the faith differently than those who have been long-term, mainline worship attendees. 

Lose also describes a kind of “disconnect” between Church (worship) and the everyday world in which most of us live and move and have our being.  He and others he’s talked to feel as if our lives are divided like Church and State—except it’s Church and World, where we touch so much more of the world, and so little Church.  In part, Lose is able to describe how our choices and insistence about how we worship has hardened the disconnect. 

People come on Sundays, we sit in pews facing the same direction as if we all agree, we expect someone to simply tell us what’s important so we don’t have to do the work, we sing some hymns together, we say some prayers, we often share some refreshments—we’re in, out, no one gets hurt in about an hour or so and we’re left to go on with our lives. 

People still regularly tell me that “Church” is so important for the rest of their week.  But a significantly greater number of people, while they might say that—or even believe it—easily make other choices. 

I don’t have any answers that are going to “fix” this problem.  I’m in it with the congregation and we’re constantly asking how we might do things differently or gain an impact that translates into better attendance. 

Lose suggests we should start to think of worship as a kind of “practice” for what we will do in our lives in the rest of the week.  That we should practice connection with one another and with God, hoping to replicate it later in the week.  That we should ask questions, and seek answers and then use what we discover together.  So that worship and liturgy is less of a performance and more of a warm-up. 

It sounds like a question of integration—how do we integrate worship into the rest of our lives?  Or, how do we get worship to play like a soundtrack in our hearts and lives for the whole week? 

I know Church isn’t really going to compete with “down to shore.”  But I think there are ways we can build a worship experience people can appreciate with more necessity.  I don’t think it will be based on music styles or contemporary verses traditional.  I think it will be measured by church-related folks by how useful worship is to them in their lives. 

Useful. 

It’s not one of the questions I’ve thought about in relationship to worship. 

I think people want something useful.  Perhaps, more useful than it’s been for a while in worship.  That’s part of what I’m thinking about as we begin the summer worship season. 

© Rev. David Stipp-Bethune; Teaching Elder and Pastor, The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch, Havertown, Pennsylvania