Monday, December 04, 2017

What the tax bill might do to Blue State churches

         Before I begin I hastily acknowledge the current tax bill will sabotage the Affordable Care Act, greatly increase inequality, cripple grad students, mortgage our countries future, and was practically written in crayon.
         In addition to all those horrible things, I think it may also harm “Blue State” congregations such as my own.
         I imagine it will be a one two punch. The capping of deductions for property tax and state/local tax (SALT), and the changes to the standard deduction, will put a real squeeze on congregations such as my own (for two articles on this click here and here).
         New Jersey has the highest per capita property tax rate of any state and our state and local taxes aren’t exactly low either. Therefore a lot of New Jersey folk rely on not being taxed on the money they’ve already been taxed on. The capping of such deductions will hurt states like New Jersey especially hard.
         The doubling of the Standard Deduction will likely scramble charitable donations, changing the giving patterns of 25% of taxpayers (30,000,000 people), with 8% of Protestants saying this will cause them to decrease their giving, all of this likely leading to a decrease of charitable giving of between 4.9 billion and 13 billion. Essentially, giving by the very rich would be the only kind our country’s tax system would reward.
        
         Now that’s a lot of stuff… what might this all look like to an average person giving to a congregation?
         I can see the line of reasoning going through a person’s head. “Oh, hey, it’s December, Christmas is coming. I always drop a surprise $5,000 in the collection plate… but it was kinda a rough year, I paid an additional 1,000 bucks in federal taxes this year on account of not being able to take my usual SALT deduction… I can’t even deduct that $5,000 like normal, because the family would have to give away $24,400 in order to do that… I’d love to give that kind of money away, but I can’t do that… I think maybe it makes sense to just give $3,000 this year, instead.”

         No malice from this person, just a squeeze on account of property taxes and our tax system discouraging generosity. But what’s the ripple effect? Last year the average confirmed person in my congregation gave $731 for a total of $130,849... with that information let’s play with three scenarios:
-In one, that “8% of Protestants” fits my congregation like a glove, and they give 10% less. In that case, my congregation would be short $1,022.
-In the second scenario, let’s assume the 25% of people who will be affected by the Standard Deduction stuff are really rattled, because they’re in Jersey and the property tax change hurts them, 25% of my congregation gives 10% less, then we’re short $3,450.
-In the third there is a genuine run on the bank, those 25% are not just rattled, but really hurt by these tax changes and give 25% less. In this case we’d be short $8,235
         Now, those might sound like small numbers to you big church folk who have it all figured out, but our total operating expenses were $141,969 that year and as it is we’re hustling. I’ve been told most congregations that do the kind of stuff we do have a $200,000 budget—we’re hustling, but an extra 1,000 dollars of hustle, or an extra $8,000 of hustle—that becomes a real hurdle.


         All that to say, I worry about this tax bill and how it may reshape American society.

Sunday, December 03, 2017

Sermon: Where do you find hope?

Sermon: Where do you find hope?

         Here we are in Advent—the season of emergence, arrival, revelation.
         A time like a tender leafy shoot emerging from a dormant branch.
         A time like the shout of a messenger arriving at an execution at the last moment carrying papers signed by a judge and shouting “innocent, innocent!”
         A time like waiting for a letter, the contents of which will reveal everything—making everything plane.
        
         But this season is also like driving your car to a new place for the first time.
         The drive back always feels quicker—because you are no longer looking so carefully, you don’t pay as close attention.
         In fact, by the 100th drive there, it feels like the car drives itself.
         So too Advent—we’ve driven this road a long time—Christians have observed and practiced Advent in some form for at least 1,650 years--and by now we often see our destination as Christmas so we don’t notice the budding blessing of Advent
--We don’t lean into the bracing and crisp wind of Hope,
--we don’t rest in the strengthening power of Peace,
--we aren’t buoyed up by the enduring buoyancy of Joy,
--we don’t revel in the moving and empowering radiance of Love
We skip over the precious gifts of Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love.
We don’t let Advent interrogate our lives to help us find its treasures.
But this morning at least, let’s ask, “Where can you find hope?”
Prayer

Where can you find hope?
         The Cosmos itself is falling apart.
         Sun refusing to shine
         Moon muted
         Stars, falling.

Where can you find hope?
         He is near, friends.
         In a world where the powers are crumbling,
         Where heaven, earth, and all things feel so unstable,
         …Are so unstable.
         The earliest followers of Jesus were caught up in the Jewish Revolt against Rome
And they saw slaughter, sieges, and the destruction of Jerusalem.
         We too see slaughter across the globe,
See the mighty falling and the needs of the poor ignored.
         He is near in all these things.
         Christ closer than light to flame or heat to fire.
         God comes to dwell among us
The one who is promised by God is near at hand.

Where can you find hope?
         It is beyond our control.
         Beyond the control of Angels and even the Son.
         He is near…
         The one for whom we hope
         Will he come at evening?
         The midnight hour?
         Dusk or dawn?
         …Waiting and waiting and waiting.
         It will not bring him.
         But he is near!
         He is near, our beloved, so keep awake.

Where can you find hope?
         Maybe just look a little lower!
         Look to the earth and her foliage
         Look to the fig tree
         Look at its reaching out.
         Look at it!
         Take the time to look!
         They’re like the finger nails of a baby—those first bits of green
         Timidly, tentatively, tenderly
         Sprouting out into the world.
         Cold bare air touching it for the first time.
         Leaves tender as human flesh.
         Tentative as a mortal body
         Fragile, emerging under death’s reign
         Emerging into a harsh world.
         Emerging to know that Summer is near.
         He is near!
He is at our very gates!

Where can you find hope?
         This week, look for those emerging leaves of summer.
         Notice what keeps you awake—open to God’s revelation.
         And notice too, those bad things you experience that chase you to Christ.
Be aware when something causes you to lean forward, excited about the future.

Amen.

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Some Parables

         It seems two things are true this time of year
—that the days get shorter, and that Matthew’s Parables of the Kingdom of Heaven drop into still greater gloom.
         These parables are building, leading us to the Passion of Jesus—the culmination, the centerpiece, of his Gospel.
         Then the early church was left, like these servants, these slaves—forced to function with an absent master, to struggle on as disciples without Christ’s clear footsteps to follow. To wrestle with the consequences of getting it wrong, of misusing the Grace of God given to them, of wondering and speculating how their actions looked from the other side of heaven.
         Infusing all of that into these stories given to them by Jesus—telling each other about the Kingdom of Heaven, what the Rule of God was looking like in both good times and bad.
That’s what these parables are about.
Let us pray.

         In the last month or so the #MeToo movement—women opening up about their experience of sexual harassment, has hit the world like a spotlight sweeping over a dirty kitchen floor—stunning a herd of cockroaches before they can escape back under the fridge and in the shadowy cracks of the cupboards.
         Powerful men in Hollywood, the Church, Academia, Sports, Politics, Journalism, and Medicine have all been caught flat footed and exposed—there may be actual consequences for their actions, there may be a measure of justice for those they hurt. Perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven is a little like that.

              My cousin Anna from Minnesota was recently my houseguest—and I did warn her, the Parsonage is a bachelor pad with 2 shedding cats in it. And she excused my mess, but did leave me with Marie Kondo’s book The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing…
         I imagine there are 2 potential version of me. One who can get past the statement that “socks stored in your drawer are on holiday” and reads through the book and gets something good out of it
—and one who scoffs at the idea that socks have feelings and puts the book into his “never read” pile.
              That first version of Chris might take seriously his stuff and take the time to ask what objects give him joy and which do not, and gladly purge and pass on the things that aren’t doing it for him.
              The second version of Chris might not take the time to figure out what things of his are important to him and thus be afraid to let go of any of it.
              The first would learn to let go of things, for they weren’t his in the first place…
the second would eventually need a storage unit to fit everything in.
              The one who let go would find joy, the one who held tightly would not. Perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven is a little like that.

              Yesterday was National Adoption Day. A day when adoption agencies all across the country push to finalize adoptions, and a day when families formed through adoption tell their stories.
Yesterday at the Union County Courthouse in Elizabeth, 9 families formalized their adoption; one mother, Keisha Archibald, for whom this was her second adoption, said, “It’s not a job to me, it’s a purpose in life.”
              Similarly, Arthur Brooks—a fellow who writes about charitable giving—wrote, “giving to charity is proven to make people happier, healthier, and richer—but in truth, I don’t know or care what the adoption of my daughter has done to my income or health—but my happiness? It spikes every time she looks at me and I remember that magic day we met.”
              Putting in the time and love it takes to raise a child, adding to it the hurdles of the adoption process—it’s all nothing compared to the joy received back double and more, the grandest of celebrations— Perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven is a little like that.

              A homebound parishioner reading this sermon later in the week will think, “That’s great, but my abilities are on the wane—what can I do to fit into this story? Can I only be the servant who buries her coin?”
              Doesn’t she know, when one of our Sunday School students created a card for her, and another went and visited her in the nursing home—they received so much,
you allowed them to grow and make connections with people of different ages who weren’t family
—you richly blessed their life by opening up to them like that.
You cracked open the Kingdom for them, so they could see it! Thank God. Perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven is a little like that.

              Margaret—this is your last day with us as Director of Music.
Can you believe it will be just under 4 months? You’ve done so much in such a little time. The gifts God has given you, you have made use of and passed on, so generously.
The All Saints Hymn Sing,
opening your home to the choir,
offering up whole new worship settings you’ve composed,
the leaven your whole family has been to all of us here at St. Stephen. Perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven is a little like that.

              And finally. Last week’s Agape Meal was amazing, at least for me as the Pastor.
You see… on a typical Sunday so much of the service is me doing all the Holy Things… right.
But Last Sunday, I got to simply be an emcee of the Holy,
I was just there to moving the crowd
—I just transitioned us from Holy Thing to Holy Thing
—I wasn’t doing any of it
—it was plain, at least for me…
it was plain to see that none of it was my doing, it was all just gift,
all just the things God was already doing here among us…
I’m sure the Discipleship Team, heading up the service,
was less aware of the sheer grace of things last week, but let me tell you
—God is doing wonderful things in the lives of everyone here,
and it is so good to take a long glimpse at it every now and again!
Perhaps the Kingdom of Heaven is a little like that.

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