Worship Wondering

Dear Service Selectors:

It’s been a few months now since our Sanctuary Choir Director, Jason Fahrenbach, expanded his repertoire to include leadership of our Praise and Worship Team and became FPCLG’s Director of Music Ministry. The response from both the musicians and the Community Service attendees has been enthusiastically positive, and to my knowledge, the Sanctuary Choir has not felt older child neglect in the transition. To my ear the music in both services is beyond magnificent; we are blessed with many gifted volunteers and professionals who inspire our voices and hearts in divine worship.

There are now two of us who weekly experience both Sunday morning services, and on a rotating basis, our Ruling Elders serve as Session Representatives, enduring the same sermon not once but twice. Their presence is a reminder that we are one congregation presenting diverse expression of our character, timing and style. Occasionally you’ll find a first service regular in a second service pew, blaming oversleep or a late Saturday night for their atypical participation. The opposite also occurs when Sunday schedules intrude on participation in later worship. I must confess that if I had to choose, I’m not sure which service would be my preference. I can only say that if you’re in a worship rut, I invite you to occasionally shift your worship time and see how the other half celebrates.

The downside of multiple worship services is, of course, separation of the flock. Like different lunchtimes at the school cafeteria, connections and friendships develop around shared schedules, but we, too, have all-inclusive assemblies and pep rallies, like the last Sunday in February when we share a single worship service at 10 a.m. in preparation for our Annual Meeting. I have also been told the advantage of single services is a fuller Sanctuary, but living into the architectural aspirations of FPCLG version 1963 is, for me, a low priority.

Which brings me to my musing: I wish we worshiped more.

As with past Lenten seasons, we will provide a mid-week addition to our worship schedule, beginning with Ash Wednesday, March 6, at 7:00 p.m. in the Sanctuary, and then services of Communion and meditation the following five Wednesdays in our little Ashland Avenue chapel. I love these services. They are quiet and intimate; they are sacrament rather than sermon-forward, and Henry is as brilliant on our little positive organ as he is on the grand Aeolian-Skinner.

I’ve been musing over the possibility of bringing this service into the rest of the year as a supplement or occasional alternative to our Sunday morning experiences. My interest is not broader appeal for larger total attendance, but an additional way to express the many facets of our shared Christian community. I’m also not of the if you build it, they will come mentality; that only seems to work if you’re appealing to the underserved audience of deceased baseball stars.

I know it is a little atypical of me to use this Monday Musing space as an opportunity to reflect on in-house business, but I’m wondering if others share my muse for midweek worship. So, if you were reading today hoping to have some grand reflection on history, word derivation, global politics or my Omaha childhood, I apologize for this little inside baseball reflection.

Promising bigger ideas in future posts, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor

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Design and Direction
Design and Direction

Dear Gathering People:

If you have endured my long-form tour of our worship space, you’ve heard me ramble about the architectural work of Charles Edward Stade, who designed our Sanctuary. Fresh off his commission for the Chapel of the Resurrection at Valparaiso University in 1961, Stade’s Park Ridge firm was engaged by FPCLG to bring modern interpretation to classical Christian forms. To my taste, we caught Stade at just the right moment in the development of his style. Stade’s later designs were stamped by an obsession for A-frame structure. Literally hundreds of churches built in the 1960s and ‘70s reflect his direct and indirect influence. Long sloping roofs covering little checkerboards of windows became his hallmark. You can see local examples, including Winnetka Presbyterian Church, Trinity Lutheran Church of Lombard and Bethel United Church of Christ in Elmhurst. Our windows in both the cloisters and clerestory reflect his early fascination with tiny boxes of color, but unlike later works, ours are muted blues, grays

Practicing the Present
Practicing the Present

Dear Gardening Pianists:

I became a pastor just as mainline Protestantism was on the decline. I’ve never served a congregation that didn’t have members with fond memories of having significantly more members, larger programs and ever-expanding budgets; but that’s okay. My call to and preparation for ministry occurred in the 1980s, not the 1950s, so any wistful notion that I could have been a better pastor if I had started before I was born strikes me as silly. We are called to work, serve, pray and plan in the time we find ourselves; it is the only time in which God is present.  C. S. Lewis noted that the one prayer God almost never grants is “encore.” Lewis wrote that our nostalgia for “golden moments in the past” can be nourishing and sustaining only if we see them for what they are—memories, not blueprints. “Properly bedded down in a past which we do not miserably try to conjure back, they will send up exquisite growths,” Lewis wrote. “Leave the bulbs alone, and the new flowers will come up. Grub them up and hope, by fondling and sniffing, to get last year’s blooms, and you will get nothing.” (Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, 1964)

Perhaps because it is Annual Meeting time, I’m thinking about our past. It’s so tempting to fill in the trend lines and conclude we’re not anything like we used to be, but such

Our Thermal Safety
Our Thermal Safety

Dear Thermodynamic Ones:

In 1892, Scottish chemist James Dewar (no relation to John Dewar of the Scotch distillery) invented the thermal flask. His goal was to measure the specific heat of the element palladium. Dewar needed to stabilize the sample’s temperature before heating it in order to generate consistent data for his calculations. To solve this problem, he formed two brass containers and nested one inside the other. By heating and sealing the space between them, Dewar created a vacuum between the walls of the two flasks. Heat is transferred through the friction of molecules in motion as they crash into each other; the kinetic energy of their movement is absorbed and given off as radiated heat. If you reduce

How's Your Church Been Treating You?
How's Your Church Been Treating You?

Dear Auditors:

The problem with welcoming doorways is how they work both ways—if it’s easy to get in, it’s easy to get out. In the 1980s and ‘90s, the seeker-sensitive megachurch offered a slow and gentle ramp extended to the unchurched. The goal was to make the church experience less churchy and more in line with an individual’s secular tastes. Narthexes became Welcome Centers, Sanctuaries became Worship Centers, and pastors traded clerical collars or suits and ties for waffle henleys and denim. Sunday School became Life Groups, and traditional liturgies were traded for motivational sing-alongs followed by self-improvement lectures.

On the one hand, it worked extremely well. The gathering crowds dwarfed the attendance at more traditional churches, and it appeared the megachurch, with its economy of scale and high production value, quickly outstripped the modest accouterments

What if We Gave it Away?
What if We Gave it Away?

Dear Consuming Congregation:

I’ve been rethinking how we deliver content on Sunday mornings to meet modern attention spans. One concept would be that we would serve donuts and coffee, but after every few sips of coffee, a tiny lid would cover the cup until you listened to two minutes of a sermon; then the lid would open again so you could sip more coffee.

We could also interrupt the last line of a favorite hymn, forcing you to listen to another minute of a sermon before playing the resolving phrase.

Speaking of hymns, I’m going to talk to Doug, who prepares our worship slides, about getting sponsorships

Let The Falsetivities Begin!
Let The Falsetivities Begin!

Dear Pomp Processors:

Well, another Presidential Inauguration is in the books, as yesterday we witnessed the rites of the transfer of presidential power for the sixtieth time in American history. And while some of the proceedings may have been perceived as unorthodox, the pomp and regalia (think Village People) occurred, and the illusion of continuity was upheld – God bless America! The echoing “oyez!” stir an inner peace, calling the faithful to reverent submission. That’s the great thing about ritual; it spackles over the cracks of dissociation and conveys a smoothness of transition, no matter how large the underlying gaps.

Certainly, with this introduction, it’s easy to discern that I’m not happy with what the new administration portends for our national identity, but that’s also part of the problem. I think I know which direction the arc of justice should bend, so when my preferred narrative

Cold, but Who's Counting?
Cold, but Who's Counting?

Dear Frozen Chosen:

For the past hour or so, a little committee of nine Fahrenheit degrees has assembled around my backyard thermometer. They show little sign of inviting another into their club. This is somewhat annoying, as I have attempted to continue my morning dog walks (only these days without a dog). In the absence of a cold nose nudging me towards my boots, I have little incentive to head out on a morning with such poor temperature attendance, so I’ll wait a bit to see if more degrees arrive to make my participation in the great outdoors a little warmer. That’s the funny thing about calefaction—the more the merrier, until there are too many and somewhere in August it’s a crowded thermometer that keeps me inside.

A few weeks ago, I found myself back in Peotone for the funeral of my former organist. A dozen or so former members of the Presbyterian church inquired about the good folks of La Grange Presbyterian Church. First Presbyterian Church of Peotone has closed, and the congregation merged with the much larger church in Manteno. The building

Committee Help, or Committee.... HELP!
Committee Help, or Committee.... HELP!

Dear Wise Ones:

Our annual officer training day is this coming Saturday, and each year it gives me an opportunity to consider how the year ahead may be shaped by our great team of leaders. I write most of my Monday Musings with an eye towards general appeal, but this week, while my musings may apply to other churches, I’ve been thinking quite specifically about our church. After eight years with FPCLG, I have come to the conclusion that our committee system seems out of sync with our congregation’s goals. It’s not for lack of commitment or creativity among committee members, but if we consider the programs and events that have flourished, there seems to be little correspondence between our administrative structure and our best work.

Making a list of things that have ‘taken off’ over the past few years is risky—I know I may leave something out; but considering what we have

When Prophecy Gets Too Personal
When Prophecy Gets Too Personal

Dear Remembering Ones:

A few months ago, a clergy colleague of mine told me to go back and listen to Jimmy Carter’s famous “malaise” speech given from the Oval Office on July 15, 1979. (If you wish to listen to it too, I’ve linked it here.) This speecj, delivered by a president seated at his desk with riveting eye contact, is credited by some as the beginning of the end of his one-term presidency.

In his nationally televised address President Carter outlined what he felt were failures in his administration. He quoted both other politicians and ordinary people

Bearing One Another Beyond the Jokes
Bearing One Another Beyond the Jokes

Dear Loved Ones:

From time to time there’s a problem that arises for the class clown, the smirking commentator, the sardonic jokester—things can go off the rails when you’re trying to be sincere; people who know you keep waiting for the punch line. The shtick gets old for those who have to live with it. Just ask Dani, who tells people to wait for the second thing that comes out of my mouth, because the first thing is usually an attempt at humor. She says “attempt” because after years of togetherness, it’s hard to generate new material. I used to make her laugh; now I tend to make her cringe. “If that wasn’t funny,” I’ll ask,

Lead Tainted Memories of Christmas
Lead Tainted Memories of Christmas

Dear Christmas Tree Huggers:

With the weather feeling more like April than December, it’s a little harder to get into the Christmas spirit, but calendars are unrelenting, so for inspiration I’ll dig back into the past hoping to find that little thread that will amusingly unravel that ugly Christmas sweater of memory.

When I was little, about this time of year the family would head down to Omaha’s Old Market looking for our annual tree. That area of downtown Omaha is now filled with trendy shops and high-end restaurants, but back then it was a dilapidated wholesale produce market where tree sellers would unstrap their wares priced by the foot. Of course, most of us kids wanted the tallest tree possible. Knowing our living room ceiling was about nine feet, subtracting for the tree topper which looked a little like an eight-inch satellite with a silver spire, and adding about six inches to the bottom for the tree stand, we figured an eight and a half foot tree would max out the height, leaving a little space

The Bible Doesn't Always Have the Answers We Want
The Bible Doesn't Always Have the Answers We Want

Dear Lovers of Life:

Since the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in the Dobbs case, returning the jurisdiction over abortion legislation to the states, anti-abortion activists have aggressively mounted their case attempting to limit women’s choice in every state. I would like to say at outset that I am firmly pro-choice; however, in today’s Monday Musing I am not going to weigh in on specific legislative proposals but focus instead on what I believe is the misuse of Scripture by the anti-abortion right. Repeatedly we’ve heard it said that the Bible is against abortion, or even more aggressively, “God hates abortion”, but on the specific topic of pregnancy termination, the Bible says no such thing.

What anti-abortionists do with Scripture is cobble together some poetic passages

A Darker Black Friday and Generosity
A Darker Black Friday and Generosity

Dear Long Weekend Spenders:

When policy or politics seems to be careening out of control, I often take comfort in history, finding how we have endured even greater upheavals in past disasters. It’s a technique found in several Psalms (41, 61, 71, 91, 140 and others), where the author reminds the reader of God’s help and provision during great calamities of the past, concluding that God will surely be present for us now. Perhaps the best hymnological example is “Our God, Our Help in Ages Past,” where Isaac Watts (1674-1748) paraphrased Psalm 90 into a glorious congregational song (sample here). A more contemporary example can be found in Tom Trenney’s soulful hymn, “God Wouldn't Bring You This Far to Leave You” (2022, sample here). I find singing this affirmation even more reassuring than reading it.

So with survivorship in mind, my musing today turns to Black Friday, the annual retail frenzy spurred by an extra day off after Thanksgiving. It seems exploitative to pin a day of spending immediately after being loosened up by a day of thanks, but it’s the same logic that in worship places the offering right after the sermon and prayer. Like so many traditions,

Conspiring for Camp
Conspiring for Camp

Dear Happy Campers: 

In 1930, Walter Strong, publisher of the Chicago Daily News, constructed his country getaway summer home for his wife Josephine and their five children. Josephine’s brother, architect Maurice Webster, designed the home to resemble a Tudor castle, knowing Strong’s affection for his European travel and the writings of Sir Walter Scott. Quarried from local limestone, the house sits on a perch above the Rock River with sixteen bedrooms, nine baths, eight fireplaces, gargoyles and several playful secret passageways. Strong, however, never fully enjoyed this fanciful retreat house, as he died suddenly in 1931. 

Widow Josephine Strong maintained the home just outside of Oregon, Illinois, splitting her time between The Castle and her residence in Wilmette. When she passed in 1961, her children had scattered beyond the Midwest and did not wish to maintain the eclectic property, selling it to the Blackhawk Presbytery as a camping facility for

FPCLG Election Strategy
FPCLG Election Strategy

Dear Election Deniers:

Well, another election is in the books, and I am beyond disappointed. I cannot discern the motivation of individual voters, but the collective count seems to be a win for anger and misogyny. Unfortunately I fear had it gone the other way we would have chalked up a win for complacency. You know my preference, but we all must live with the results and determine how to move forward.

Like many post-election executives, my job now is to discern the outcome’s impact on my business. I know the metaphor may feel unseemly, but as a minister I need to evaluate my industry which is religion, my brand which is Christianity and my model which is Presbyterian. Given the election results, I feel like a horse collar manufacturer in 1920s Detroit. 

I don’t think the problem is the quality of the product—it’s whether or not anyone is buying.

Giving and Gaining
Giving and Gaining

Dear Spam-Call Warriors:

The phone rings. You don’t recognize the number, but you’re waiting for a call, so you say, “Hello?” There’s a long pause and then that strange boip sound that you know connects you to an AI-controlled recorded voice. Yep, it happened again…Spam Call! Against all reason, you try to interrupt sometimes with insults or questions, but the bot hasn’t been trained in irony, so you get back a very disappointing, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Would you like to…” Sometimes you wait and eventually get connected to a live operator. Guess what—even though it’s a living breathing person, they cannot be insulted. There is no expression of annoyance they have not heard before. Of course, they hang up before you can explain your frustration. Their only hope is volume, scooting on past your indignation to the next voice,

No Obligation Subscription - Hoping Inspiration Works
No Obligation Subscription - Hoping Inspiration Works

Dear Subscribers:

Once an organization or association has approved by-laws and built a website, it seems the next project is to create a newsletter or magazine. In addition to collecting dues, the staff, whether volunteer or paid, is tasked with keeping track of the industry’s trends and legislative agendum. Many of these periodicals now exist only online, but who can forget the importance of Potato Chipper Magazine or the National Tire Dealers and Retreaders Association newsletter? (When I was a kid, the latter arrived for my dad at the house each month.)  It matters not your hobby, interest or profession, you can bet there’s a periodical that fits even the narrowest of interest. Some titles explain themselves, like “Private Island Magazine”; others feel a tad more obscure, like “Emu Today and Tomorrow” or “Miniature

If You Don't Feel Full, It's not Righteous
If You Don't Feel Full, It's not Righteous

Dear Hangry Diners: 

Having just stepped away from my morning news feed, I’m inclined to observe that the world is a mess. Of course, 24-hour news cycles and constant doom scrolling would lead even the most stable among us to become unmoored, assuming the great apocalypse is only moments away. But that’s how it works when attention is monetized. The financial incentives are out of whack—the purpose of information is not to keep me informed, but to keep me glued, to awaken in me an insatiable hunger for the next screen. I’m ashamed to admit how well it works, because even as I write this I am tempted to click back on the updates of some story, issue, poll or commentary. It all triggers in me a

Seeking Real Intelligence
Seeking Real Intelligence

Dear Real Intelligence (RI?) Seekers:

Last year my brother Bruce (Prof. Emeritus electrical engineering, Carnegie Mellon University, and Founding Director CMU Africa) was interviewed by CNBC Africa regarding current technological developments on the continent. In the interview, which may be found here, he discussed the importance of context in Artificial Intelligence (AI) learning models. In our conversations, my brother has talked about the vast difference between American and European AI models and African continental models relating to everything from logistics to health care to banking. 

If you were to use models trained with data from legacy countries and inquire as to how developing nations in Africa could improve the delivery of goods and finances, the AI output would most likely commend grand infrastructure projects requiring the construction of massive dams, highway systems and power plants. However, African nations are currently using networks

One Painting is Not an Exhibition
One Painting is Not an Exhibition

Dear Art Dealers, 

From 1870 to 1871, impressionist painter Claude Monet lived in London, where he had arrived from Paris in self-imposed exile to avoid conscription in the Franco-Prussian War. That first exposure to London’s smoggy air inspired the young artist, who was fascinated by what the moisture and pollution did to the refraction of light. After returning to Paris, Monet was determined to revisit London, which he did many times over the subsequent decades.

Among his favorite subjects for painting were the Parliament buildings along the River Thames capturing the various angles of light and fog. Throughout his career, Monet captured those

Don't Try to Be Happy
Don't Try to Be Happy

Dear Happy(?) Campers:

Happiness is a byproduct, not a goal. I heard that quote during a podcast interview last week and it is stuck in my head. 

A little research reveals that Mahatma Gandhi may or may not have said something similar. His abbreviated quote usually reads, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” Except that seems to be a memeification (yes, invented word) of a longer, more verifiable Gandhi quote: “Happiness is a direction, not a place. Happiness

Leisure, A Sign of Failure?
Leisure, A Sign of Failure?

Dear Busybodies, 

Labor Day—that last gasp of summer as we slip our summer whites into storage and prepare for the seasonal responsibilities of harvest. A day for workers to set aside the drudgery of Mondays for one fleeting glimpse of how life could always be had we been born into the luxury of the leisure class. Except these days we no longer mark success as freedom from responsibility, but rather prove our worth by a flurry of perpetual busyness.

Imagine Elon Musk or Jeff Bezos lingering over one more game of croquet on the lawn while sipping lemonade. Or Bill Gates and Mark Zuckerberg touring aimlessly down a coastal highway, windblown with

Wishing It Were True
Wishing It Were True

Dear Seekers:

This past week I attended a required clergy continuing education program hosted by the Presbytery of Chicago. A portion of the day was devoted to helping us understand the importance of monitoring our stress. When we are under pressure, we are more likely to violate the personal boundaries of others; we become less supportive of their needs, and our tolerance for their behavior wears thin. At the same time, the presenters wanted us to appreciate how stress helps us grow, building our resilience, so they offered this illustration...

Biosphere 2 was a research project constructed in the Arizona desert in the late 1980s to determine if it was possible to create a closed ecological system which, in the future, might sustain human life on other planets. It’s a massive domed structure that replicates

The Gospel of Success
The Gospel of Success

Dear Wealthy Investors:

If you’ve missed the fact that I think a “prosperity gospel” is heresy, then we haven’t talked. Religious hucksters have been around since the beginning of time. Even the early church struggled with that brand of phony. 

In Acts 4.32, we’re told how many people sold property to place the money before the Apostles so they could distribute it to any who were in need. In Acts chapter 5, Ananias and his wife Sapphira wanted in on the action. Christians were digging deep to support the work of the early church. So Ananias and Sapphira sold a piece of property, but they held back

The Pervasive Power of Patrons
The Pervasive Power of Patrons

Dear Political Patrons:

I’m not a Chicago native, but I’ve spent nearly three times as many years as a resident of the Windy City as I had in my hometown of Omaha, and all of that time on the South Side (if one counts Hyde Park as the South Side). When I arrived in Hyde Park, Michael Bilandic was Mayor, and the fact that he was Croatian was of little consequence to my newfound awareness of Chicago politics. The Irish were kings of the South Side ever since Mayor Richard J. Daley’s mother, Lillian, announced that she wanted more for her son than being a policeman. Richard J. didn’t disappoint.

Daley (the elder) had a keen sense of optics, making sure that his base constituencies were well represented when handing out credit and meting out power. His was a carefully crafted machine in which the component parts were not

When Spiritual Misses the Religious
When Spiritual Misses the Religious

Dear Collective Clergy:

As you may gather from my sermons over the past several weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about community, about interdependence, about sharing. Perhaps because there are few things less independent or self-sufficient than caring for someone who is ill; or perhaps because I am old enough to realize there are some things I will never accomplish in this life. Whatever the reason, I’ve been musing about how spirituality has become a personal responsibility. We’ve privatized it. We are taught that each of us is responsible for working out our own salvation, our prayer life, our meditation, our scriptural devotion, even our emotional health and faith. I’m not so sure that’s right.

Much of this started with the Reformation. The reformers denounced the special position priests held in mediating God’s presence for the people through the

A Little Love Note to a Church
A Little Love Note to a Church

Dear, Dear Friends:

Letters from the pastor are traditionally epistles of reprimand. Seeing oneself as constrained by a stiff-necked people, the pastor attempts to write the congregation into submission. Confident that the only limit to their ministerial wonderfulness is spiritual stubbornness, they dedicate their pens and preaching to browbeat the very congregation to which they are called. I sometimes wonder how church members tolerate such dismissive paternalism. There must be something irresistible in the friendships, or the choir rehearsals, or the coffee that brings people back to endure their weekly scolding. I have on occasion, submitted my congregations to such smug condescending judgmentalism, and now looking back, I am sorry. My regret arises not only from the absurdity of ‘biting the hands that feed me,’ but

Is Our Welcome Upside Down?
Is Our Welcome Upside Down?

Dear Welcoming Worshipers:

This may come as a bit of a surprise, but occasionally I muse about things other than political temperament or cultural erosion; sometimes I muse about the church—and not just its niche in society or role in public discourse. I sometimes think about how we ‘do’ church and how we ‘are’ church.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been rolling around in my head our metrics. What we count, how we measure progress, where we look for trends. Most often we consider ‘how many’, as in attendance, and ‘how much’, as in offerings or expenditures. But independent from this annual report data, I’ve been thinking about people, as in those who are not yet part of our fellowship, and I’m beginning to believe our systems of connection may be upside-down.

The centerpiece of our community in both energy and focus is our gathering

Pointless Performative Posting
Pointless Performative Posting

Dear Fatigued Faithful:

Now that the state of Louisiana has codified posting the Ten Commandments in every public school classroom, attention has been given to commandments 7 (Thou shalt not commit adultery) and 9 (Thou shalt not bear false witness) and whether or not the politicians who endorse the policy live up to these commands. Those who defend the posting of the Decalogue claim it is a bedrock document of American law, and as such a piece of history without religious prejudice. My musing over this issue, and the recent state school superintendent of Oklahoma mandating the teaching of the Bible in schools, has less to do with the documents themselves and more to do with the qualifications of those who will interpret their meaning for young minds.

Of course, the Ten Commandments is a religious document. Let’s start with #1, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” There is nothing secular about that! Of course, moving on, the next three commandments are equally sectarian: #2 Thou shalt not make any graven image, #3 Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain and #4 Remember

Requiem For The Horde
Requiem For The Horde

Dear Bugged Ones: 

As many as 1.5 million cicadas per acre emerged a few weeks ago in our region of Illinois. With great anticipation, people dreaded the endless sound of their mating screech. It was amazing how finding a single cicada in the house and courting him outside could fill the air with so much noise. While larger than most bugs, it still seemed to emit more sound than its size could resonate. The crunching sound too—of thousands of exoskeletons littering the sidewalks—created its own fascinating cringe.  

Love them or hate them, they’re now nearly gone.

It will be 2041 when our brood emerges again. If I’m still around, I’ll be 80.