Saturday, March 28, 2009

Losing a Sanctuary.

I've never been a drinker (of alcohol...poured a lot of diet pop and sweet tea down my throat, but not liquor). And I used to smile when I would hear the theme song to the hit comedy Cheers come on the tv. Everyone wants to go where "someone knows your name."

I've found, as life has carried me along, that everyone needs a place to go. For the last couple of years my place to go has been The Heavenly Brew. It's a coffee shop on East Jackson here in Elkhart. Sharon and Bill Wargo took a little house, that had been a florist shop, and turned it into a warm place with soft lighting, tables and booths, a wood floor, some art work...and great stuff to eat and drink. (I have had a particular affinity for their baked blueberry oatmeal, blueberry muffins, and Better Morning Muffins.) It was a place to go with my books and Bible and magazines. It was a place where I could stop, after working out at the Y, take a deep breath...look ahead to the day...and get centered.

The sweet thing is that Sharon and her staff got to know me. They knew what I would want. They could tell when I needed a tall glass of ice water to cool down after my workouts. They knew me...they were glad to see me...and they did their best to make sure everything was okay.

It's been my sanctuary. My place to go.

The retail food business is always tough, but the last couple of months have been a very rough climate in which to make a dollar. So today is Sharon's last day at The Heavenly Brew. They're closing. Keeping the place going has sort of swallowed up every hour of most days, for Sharon, and it's time to give thanks for this chapter and walk away.

I told her, oneday, that God has something out there...ahead...for her. I told her this has been great...and that she has done something really good. Given us all a good place to stop...to meet friends.

But I've lost a sanctuary and I'm not sure where to go next. I'm looking around.

You might pray for the place I choose. I used to hang out at Java Jungle out on #17 and they closed. Then, I would go to Sips & Scones on #20 for coffee and a place to outline sermons. They closed. Great place but they couldn't make a go of it. Now, The Heavenly Brew is shutting its doors. I feel like the Angel of Death for anyone running an independent coffee shop.

We all need a place, you know?

Wondering what my experience at The Heavenly Brew has to say to those of us Jesus followers who gather in places we call sanctuaries each week?

Jesus, Luke 11 tells us, went off to a "certain place" (TNIV) to pray. A certain place. Everyone needs a certain place.

Monday, March 23, 2009

When Did OK Corral Come to Main Street?

One of the best parts of my life is the tutoring I do with students in our city. The first question I ask as I escort my 5th graders from their homeroom is this: "Tell me what you did this past weekend?"

One of my students recently told me she attended the funeral of her 19-year old cousin. He had been shot during a drive-by attack. I tried to listen, catch the story, as the student and I walked down the hall.

When we found a place to study, I continued to listen. A girlfriend. Who hadn't been faithful. The cousin had shoved the girl around. Then, the girl's new boyfriend and his buddies drove by, shouted the young man's name, and when he turned they shot him.

So while we did division, we talked.

About how we have this generation of young men who are shooting one another. Destroying one another. I told her it had to stop...this was no way to live. I told her, "I'm so sorry."

We talked. I told her everything about the situation was wrong. A man never hits a woman...ever. A girl who is loving one man shouldn't be loving other men. Guns are not to be used arguments. "None of this is right," I said. "None of this is right."

She told me she thought some white people were racist. I said, "Yes, many of us are. And so are too many black people. We all have some of that junk in us. We need to start being more honest with one another...take care of one another...figure out how to take care of one another."

How do you do division when you are talking about the shooting of a 19-year old young man? How do you think about math when you see a generation destroying one another?

How do you continue getting the classwork done when you feel this fear rising up from your gut? You see this bright, sharp, young woman in front of you and you think about the rip tides of alcohol, drugs, and violence that will be surging around her as she heads off to middle school and senior high school.

Is there some safe place where we can put these children to keep them safe? All across our nation we have these bright-eyed, sharp, children...in elementary school. There are these dangerous tides ahead. How will we keep the children safe? I'd like to lift them all above this, the way I lift my granddaughter over obstacles at the playground, and set them down on the safe side of 18 or 19 or 20.

When did the OK Corral come to main street?

The More You're Loved, the Farther You Go.

Slipped away to Columbus, Ohio this past weekend. Trinity was hopping with great worship, a big-time food drive, and a packed Upward Basketball/ Cheerleading celebration in the afternoon. But we needed to go. So we did.

There is a playground on the back yard of an elementary school in the Westgate area of Columbus. We headed down there several times, with our 18-month granddaughter, during the weekend. She is just learning her way to navigate around a playground...across the uneven surface of a grass yard.

Two things I noticed.

First, she has gotten pretty comfortable very quickly. What that means is instead of waiting for us to walk by her side, Ella goes on ahead of us. There have been times when she would walk 4-8 feet ahead of us, but that is lengthening out. Now, she will go off 20-30 yards. She looks independent. Like she could conquer the world. If you watch carefully, though, you'll notice she turns her head half-way to the side to catch the occasional glimpse of us. Just to make sure we are behind her. Just to make sure she isn't alone.

She looks back. She sees us. Then, she faces forward and goes!

She is a little girl who is so well loved by every adult in her life? Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, her babysitter, and adult friends at Columbus Vineyard...she is well loved.

Love gives us the confidence to go on...walk ahead...go further. Without love we are always afraid, always clinging, but when we are well loved we have the confidence to move ahead...go out...explore the world.

I John 4:18 says perfect love drives fear out of our lives. I see that in her.

There is a second thing I noticed: she doesn't need to hold onto my hand when we walk across the yard. The uneven grass is a challenge for a little girl, but when I offered her my hand Sunday morning she pulled her hand back and shook her head, "No."

I smiled. Watched her navigate her way across the grass of late winter. It's an interesting moment, isn't it? We love, hold onto the next generation, and then they need to let go...make their own way across the terrain of this world.

Loves gives itself away so that the other can be independent...so that the other person can walk their own path.

Love, as I commented to someone the other day, means holding on...and letting go.

And when you love well the other person experiences the freedom and confidence to let go.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

2 Strikes and You're Out?

After reading the story in today's local paper about Elkhart Memorial High School's basketball coach, Mark Barnhizer, I find myself wondering if we haven't changed the rules of the game. I'm wondering if, in this era when every failure and mistake is amplified, if we haven't gone to "2 strikes and you're out."

Here is what the paper said. The coach was driving home and changed lanes in an erratic manner. A police officer stopped him. Mark's blood alcohol was okay but a test revealed the presence of some kind of drug in his system. (He said it was a painkiller for his feet.) When the officer discovered the coach's driver's license was suspended, Barnhizer was put in jail. And not released until sometime in the afternoon on the following day.

He made it to the IHSAA regional game, where the Chargers were playing Valporaiso, late in the 4th quarter. He apologized to his players after the game. He told them, "I let you down." The team, with one voice, responded, "No you didn't, coach!" They told Mark they loved him.

Apparently, the coach has had his license suspended several times. So I don't know what that is all about, but I would "coach" him to get that part of his life straightened out.

People say he is a good coach. His players love and respect. The sportswriter in the article today cautions people not to lose perspective.

I'm not sure how this will end, but I see us tossing people overboard when they do something foolish or stupid. One strike or two and you're out! I know there are people like Madoff who keep doing the wrong thing over and over and over again. Who have no shame and participate in one criminal act after the other. But it seems to me that we haven't pretty quick to write people off.

As I finished the newspaper article, I remember a day when I was on a muscle relaxant for a herniated disk. I was very young. An associate pastor at Trinity. I decided to get out of bed and go visit the parishioners who were in the hospital. As I walked through the kitchen to get to the garage, Sharon said, "Where are you going?" I told her I was going to visit folks in the hospital, and I would be right back. I would be very careful. "You're not supposed to drive when you are taking that," she said. "It'll be okay."

I backed out of the garage and ran into my mother-in-law's car. Feeling like an idiot, I pulled back into the garage, turned off the car, walked back through the house, and got back into bed. It wasn't headline stuff because it happened in my driveway, and I was an associate pastor. Not the coach of a team in the regionals.

Just wondering if we have changed the rules.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

New Chapters.

I tend to see life, organizations, and relationships as books. With different chapters. The pages are always being turned. Things never stay the same.

As you might expect, I have a fair number of friends who are pastors. Being a pastor or priest or rabbi or imam is an interesting way to spend your life for God. You get a chance to shepherd souls, see God at work, and hang out with people who love you better than you deserve to be loved.

Then, of course, there are heartbreaking parts of it. When people get ugly in the church, it isn't a pretty picture. Bumping into meanness in a place where you expect to find grace is a shock.

Many pastors finally go on to do other things not because they have been exhausted by the big challenges of kingdom building (fighting for justice, making peace, teaching God's truth to a new generation, mission trips to tough places, watching people you love get knocked down by cancer, etc.), but because of the "paper cuts" we get along the way. The Easter Sunday someone growls at you because the altar flowers weren't properly centered. The Bible expert who keeps chipping at you because you don't preach in the style he enjoys best. The donor who demands her gift back because the leaders of the church didn't choose the carpet color she wanted. Little stuff. Worn down by little stuff, some pastors say, "That's it. I'm going to go sell insurance or teach or mow yards or drive a truck."

I've got some friends who have been run out of their churches by a small group of cranky Christians. My buddies were tempted to hang in there...try to work through things. But the cranky folks wouldn't let go of the fight. They didn't want things to get better...they wanted their preacher gone so they could get an improved model with higher horsepower and better mileage.

Jesus, in the 9th chapter of Luke, sends his disciples out to do God's work and he says, "When someone welcomes you, stay there. If someone shuts the door in your face, wants nothing to do with you or my Good News, then move on. Shake the dust from your feet."

It's a wonderful thing for Jesus to say. It gives us permission to move on when people insist on saying "no." I tell my friends, "Life is too short to stay where people don't want you. There is another place...go!" What a blessing to know that God loves us enough that the Lord doesn't want us to stay around and get beat up by cranky people! New chapters...

Recently a friend, who runs a small restaurant, told me she is giving up. The economic slowdown is taking her business down. It's not just that, though. She has found that the retail food business -like dairy farming or pastoring a small church- means you don't have much of a life away from your work. She's exhausted. My friend told me she is closing her business, and I told her what a great job she has done. How it has been a good place...a welcoming place. Folks in that neck of South Bend are going to miss it. "I hope you feel good about what you have done," I said. "You've blessed us all. Given us a place. And God has another chapter ahead for you..." She began to cry. I hugged her. New chapters...

My sisters and I have been talking in ways we haven't talked in years. Some of it is easy. Some of it is really hard. Between the words there is healing. Movement where some things have been frozen for a long time. There are moments when it is exhilirating. Fun. And there are moments in our changing relationships that are scary...exhausting. (Healing, by the way, isn't a painless phenomenon.) New chapters...

I know Ecclesiastes 1:09 tells us there is nothing new under the sun. Got it. Every generation likes to think they are breaking new ground, but the truth is the human condition is sort of what it has always been. Ecclesiastes says what it does, and yet Psalm 96:1 says to "sing to the Lord a new song" and Jeremiah 31:31 exclaims "I will make a new covenant with them." In Revelation 21:05, Christ declares, "Behold, I make all things new."

New chapters. Some chapters -that may feel like a curse, a blessing, or a mixture of the two- come to a close. There are tears. There is pain. There is healing. There is gladness. Then, God has something else for us...

We are always stepping into a new chapter with God. I like that.

Glimmers.

When I've been on coasters at Cedar Point, there are times when you feel like the drop is never going to stop.

It's felt like that for the last few months in our community...and nation. Elkhart County has, as we long said, led the nation into financial recessions and we lead the way out to recovery. So things started to go bad in the middle of 2008, and now we are struggling with an actual unemployment rate of more than 20% in the city.

President Obama was sworn into the office, the government made some attempts to turn around the financial drop by solving the credit crisis, and the stock market kept heading south. In a series of spectacular dives.

All of this is going to take time.

Last week I told a friend that I thought it might be a good time to start buying stocks. This week the markets began heading in a positive direction. There have been a couple of articles in the paper about companies hiring...expanding. Retail numbers were up recently, and the supply of houses is down as existing units have been bought up.

Then, yesterday, I pulled into our front driveway, looked down, and saw crocuses beginning to poke through the soil.

Small things. Little slivers of light in a room that has been pretty dark. That is what I am seeing.

Monday, March 2, 2009

The Boy to My Left.

One of the cool things about life -and ministry, for that matter- is that every once in awhile you get to walk through a good dream. You get to experience something amazing.

Back in 1958 the people of Trinity United Methodist Church moved from downtown out to our present location on East Jackson Boulevard. (Don't worry...this isn't going to turn into a long history lesson!) When they settled out here they dreamt of a worship space and a youth center/ community center. It took us until 1999 to get the sanctuary built, and then people started thinking about that community center...that youth center.

About 18 months ago we moved into a really cool facility. Designed by a firm working with a team of laity, the Trinity Life Center is really cool... hardwood floor, scoreboard, classrooms for little kids and adults, a large lobby or gathering area, a youth room that meets the needs of adolescents, and super acoustics. The really great thing is our church understands that this is a tool for God - to reach and serve the community. Our Upward Basketball and Cheerleading ministries bring about 2,000 to God's house every Saturday. One-third of those folks are not connected to a church.

People dreamed the dream. God worked in them to make the dream a reality.

So this weekend we were blessed to have Bishop Michael J. Coyner join us for services of consecration. He drove all the way from Indy to spend Saturday night and Sunday morning with us.

All four weekend services were in the TLC. Lighting and sound were nearly perfect...no real glitches. Our Chancel Choir was rocking, and our Praise Team was "on." Our food team had coffee and homemade cinammon rolls!

Do you know what the coolest part of the services were? As much as I loved the music, it wasn't the choirs or music teams. As much as I respect our Bishop, and was blessed by his preaching, it wasn't the Bishop sitting to my right. No, it was a 7th grade boy who was sitting to my left.

The boy to my left first showed up at Trinity about three years ago. He was a neighborhood kid who was often on the edge of trouble. A guy in our church named John invited the boy to our mid week meal and program. Then, John invited the boy to worship.

Now, the church has become the center of the boy's life. He spends Saturdays at the church helping with Upward Basketball. He helps sweep up bread crumbs after Communion on Sunday morning, and he works the sound/lighting board during our services when needed. Life is tough at home but Trinity has become another kind of family for the boy.

During that moment in worship, when we prayed the Lord's Prayer, I heard the boy to my left praying the prayer. He knew every word. After it was over the boy leaned over to me and whispered, "Do you know every word to that prayer?" I said, "Yes, I do." He beamed at me and quietly said, "So do I."

I don't know what kind of price you put on moments like that, but I think it was worth the $3.5 million it cost God's people to build this brick instrument of grace.