The Village Church is a booming congregation in the Fort Worth area. Friends of ours moved to Texas about six years ago, and they have made The Village their church home.
Several years ago a youth pastor at the church was electrocuted at a baptismal service and died. A power cord was somehow in contact with the metal frame of the baptistry. It was an awful loss, but the church continued to grow...reach out.
Four weeks ago my friend emailed me a notice from the congregation. Their young Lead Pastor, Matt Chandler, had a siezure on Thanksgiving Day. Tests were run. A brain tumor was discovered. Surgery was scheduled. The entire congregation -which was just moving in to a new worship center- prayed and waited for the biopsy results to come back.
They did. The people at The Village Church know the results: the tumor was malignant. Surgery got most of it -but not all of it.
When I read the email to the congregation, I began to cry for this young family...this congregation. I called my buddy. He told me Matt, the Pastor at The Village, was in rehab. He was having a tough time with his language skills. My buddy said Matt got out of the hospital for the weekend so he and his wife, Lauren, could go out on a date.
The note to the congregation asked them to keep praying for their pastor, his wife, and their three children. The people were asked to respect the privacy of the Chandlers, and not to visit without first being invited to come by.
Then, the email made two important points.
First, "As you hurt and weep for the family, do not do it alone." Which is a good word for every single one of us. Often, when we are hurt or scared or we fail, we want to slip away. Become invisible. Hanging in there, staying connected with our friends, showing up at church, seems like such work...and we go it alone. Always...always...always...a big mistake! Paul, in the New Testament (Romans 12:15), talks about being connected...weeping with those who weep, and rejoicing with those who rejoice.
Second, the email asked that people pray "The Chandlers and The Village would suffer well and for the sake of Christ's name." That may be a shocking statement for those of us in North America who assume that hanging out with Jesus means we won't suffer.
We don't talk much, in the church, about suffering well. Which is a real disservice to the people of God. One of the lessons the Bible wants to teach us is how to suffer well.
What would it look like to suffer well? Paul, in 2nd Corinthians 4, talks about what it is like to "be hard pressed on every side." He talks about what it is like to be "crushed" and "perplexed" and "struck down."
Then, the first century missionary pastor talks about keeping our eyes on the glory of God in the face of Christ, letting his light shine out of us. Paul reminds the Corinthians that the resurrection of Christ is something to focus on...as we trust God will raise us up to new life even when we are going through tough junk. Don't lose heart, Paul says, but trust God to be at work in us renewing us...growing us...deepening us...even when stuff is overwhelming.
"We fix our eyes not on what is seen," Paul says, "but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
The writer of Corinthians makes a statement (4:17) worth remembering: "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all."
I'm not sure I am smart enough to make a list of everything that constitutes suffering well.
I do think, however, it involves trusting God. Focusing on the power and love and faithfulness of God. Refusing to give in to the temptation to become bitter...or withdraw from God, our friends, and the church. Suffering well may mean looking for ways to give and serve and bless others, even as we hurt and ache and tire. Finally, suffering well may mean trusting that God is able to work for good in every situation (Romans 8:28).
I'm praying for Matt and Lauren Chandler. I'm praying for their three children. I'm praying for the people of The Village Church and everyone touched by the life of that congregation
And I am praying that you and I are learning the important art of suffering well.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The Fairy Engineer.
The other night our son called and turned his i-Phone over to our 27-month old granddaughter, Ella. She got on the phone and we had the longest phone conversation we've ever had. She chatted about coming to Elkhart for Christmas: "I going to the house. I going to the house." We talked about a slide she had been playing on.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a burst of conversation. Which ended with her breathlessly saying, "Hold on a second. I be right back!" Then, I would hear her walking around the house with the i-Phone on speakerphone...talking with Mommy and Daddy.
If I was quiet, when she came back on, she would rather sharply say, "GRANDPA!" I would reassure her that I was there. We'd talk some more and then she'd say, again, "Hold on a second. I be right back!" My son said, "How does it feel being put on hold by your 2-year old granddaughter?"
Late in the conversation I heard her ask her Mommy to help her put on her Tinkerbell outfit. With wings. Then, a minute or so later, she was sitting on the living room floor running a very simple Lionel train. The phone had been put down near the train, and the phone picked up the sound of the locomotive and rolling stock rounding the curves. I could hear the train coming... and the train going. Then, she blew the whistle on the train.
Kind of crazy, you know? She was sitting there in a green Tinkerbell outfit, with wings on her back, running a train. I don't know what kind of a world it is where a little girl wears a fairy outfit and runs a train, but I think it is pretty amazing...and cool. I pray that when she grows up and becomes reasonable, mature, she never loses the part of her that delights in wearing fairy wings and dreaming magical dreams.
Then, all of a sudden, there was a burst of conversation. Which ended with her breathlessly saying, "Hold on a second. I be right back!" Then, I would hear her walking around the house with the i-Phone on speakerphone...talking with Mommy and Daddy.
If I was quiet, when she came back on, she would rather sharply say, "GRANDPA!" I would reassure her that I was there. We'd talk some more and then she'd say, again, "Hold on a second. I be right back!" My son said, "How does it feel being put on hold by your 2-year old granddaughter?"
Late in the conversation I heard her ask her Mommy to help her put on her Tinkerbell outfit. With wings. Then, a minute or so later, she was sitting on the living room floor running a very simple Lionel train. The phone had been put down near the train, and the phone picked up the sound of the locomotive and rolling stock rounding the curves. I could hear the train coming... and the train going. Then, she blew the whistle on the train.
Kind of crazy, you know? She was sitting there in a green Tinkerbell outfit, with wings on her back, running a train. I don't know what kind of a world it is where a little girl wears a fairy outfit and runs a train, but I think it is pretty amazing...and cool. I pray that when she grows up and becomes reasonable, mature, she never loses the part of her that delights in wearing fairy wings and dreaming magical dreams.
Air Brushed Christians: a Word for the Holidays.
Our oldest son lives in Columbus, Ohio. A friend of his has a tough job: air brushing the pictures of the models whose pictures will be used in the catalogue at Victoria's Secret. Or whose pictures will be posted in the stores.
When I heard that, I wondered what constitutes a bad day for the company artist. I wonder if this young guy's wife understands when he complains about a long day...deadlines?
This may come as a shock to you, but these seemingly perfect women aren't perfect. The leaders of the company, though, want any imperfections covered over...removed.
Sometimes we are guilty, in the church, of airbrushing our lives. We want any sign of weakness or fear or failure removed. We do our best to hide all that. Not sure why we -why I- do that but I suspect it has to do with not trusting people to love us, or want to be with us, if they knew just how ragged around the edges we sometimes are. Truth is the temptation to airbrush the fears and sin and imperfection out of our lives is evidence of our lack of trust in God's grace. "How could a holy God want anything to do with a creature who has been known to yell at his kids, or who has trouble controlling his mouth, or can't get over the bitterness of a long ago divorce?" we think. So we airbrush. We hide the sad or scared or mean stuff.
I was thinking about that this afternoon. As we approach Christmas. A tv ad for Budweiser showed a team of horses pulling a perfect wagon through a gentle snowstorm. It showed a perfect white farm house with a perfect green wreath, with a perfect red bow, on the front of the house. We see these images of perfect holiday gatherings. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, parents and loving children, a well behaved dog wagging its tail to the beat of a Christmas carol. We see people in a warm home, gifts wrapped and piled beneath a tree, folks holding hands around the dinner table for prayer...and it all just seems so...perfect.
If you are thinking you are the only one in the world whose life is ragged, if you think you are the only one who gets overwhelmed or lonely during the holidays, I have news for you: few families, few relationships, and few holiday gatherings are as perfect as the idealized pictures show them to be. A lot of people get tired....during the holidays. A lot of people feel overwhelmed. A lot of people have moments of loneliness.
Two weeks ago I was coming back from a meeting in central Indiana. I called a person I love very much to tell them I was thinking about them. I called to check in on them. Our conversation went from bad to worse. At the end she was shouting at me and I was shouting back. "I called to tell you I love you!" I said into the phone. "Don't you get it?" She shouted back. I said, "This isn't good for either one of us" and I hung up on her. Twice...because she called back and started yelling again. I was driving through deep darkness, on a rainy night, in Whitley County. By the time I got home my body was humming...electric...with sadness. Disappointment. How can families and friendships get so sideways?
The dirty little secret is many of us, even in the Christian community, do our best to airbrush this stuff out. But it is still there...
Paul, in his letters, is so honest! He doesn't appear to be trying to airbrush the sin and struggle out of his life. In Romans 7 he talks about his struggle with sin. Paul looks at his heart, his soul, and describes what he finds as a war (:23) Then, Paul says God has the power -in Jesus Christ- to deliver him from that war. He begins the next chapter by saying "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."
Maybe God loves us so much that we can stop airbrushing. Be honest. And let God's love do some deep healing.
When I heard that, I wondered what constitutes a bad day for the company artist. I wonder if this young guy's wife understands when he complains about a long day...deadlines?
This may come as a shock to you, but these seemingly perfect women aren't perfect. The leaders of the company, though, want any imperfections covered over...removed.
Sometimes we are guilty, in the church, of airbrushing our lives. We want any sign of weakness or fear or failure removed. We do our best to hide all that. Not sure why we -why I- do that but I suspect it has to do with not trusting people to love us, or want to be with us, if they knew just how ragged around the edges we sometimes are. Truth is the temptation to airbrush the fears and sin and imperfection out of our lives is evidence of our lack of trust in God's grace. "How could a holy God want anything to do with a creature who has been known to yell at his kids, or who has trouble controlling his mouth, or can't get over the bitterness of a long ago divorce?" we think. So we airbrush. We hide the sad or scared or mean stuff.
I was thinking about that this afternoon. As we approach Christmas. A tv ad for Budweiser showed a team of horses pulling a perfect wagon through a gentle snowstorm. It showed a perfect white farm house with a perfect green wreath, with a perfect red bow, on the front of the house. We see these images of perfect holiday gatherings. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, parents and loving children, a well behaved dog wagging its tail to the beat of a Christmas carol. We see people in a warm home, gifts wrapped and piled beneath a tree, folks holding hands around the dinner table for prayer...and it all just seems so...perfect.
If you are thinking you are the only one in the world whose life is ragged, if you think you are the only one who gets overwhelmed or lonely during the holidays, I have news for you: few families, few relationships, and few holiday gatherings are as perfect as the idealized pictures show them to be. A lot of people get tired....during the holidays. A lot of people feel overwhelmed. A lot of people have moments of loneliness.
Two weeks ago I was coming back from a meeting in central Indiana. I called a person I love very much to tell them I was thinking about them. I called to check in on them. Our conversation went from bad to worse. At the end she was shouting at me and I was shouting back. "I called to tell you I love you!" I said into the phone. "Don't you get it?" She shouted back. I said, "This isn't good for either one of us" and I hung up on her. Twice...because she called back and started yelling again. I was driving through deep darkness, on a rainy night, in Whitley County. By the time I got home my body was humming...electric...with sadness. Disappointment. How can families and friendships get so sideways?
The dirty little secret is many of us, even in the Christian community, do our best to airbrush this stuff out. But it is still there...
Paul, in his letters, is so honest! He doesn't appear to be trying to airbrush the sin and struggle out of his life. In Romans 7 he talks about his struggle with sin. Paul looks at his heart, his soul, and describes what he finds as a war (:23) Then, Paul says God has the power -in Jesus Christ- to deliver him from that war. He begins the next chapter by saying "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."
Maybe God loves us so much that we can stop airbrushing. Be honest. And let God's love do some deep healing.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
When James Taylor Sings Back-Up.
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, out of Cleveland, Ohio recently held two concerts in New York City. Each evening featured a series of greats from the present and the past. U2 sang, for example, with Bruce Springsteen. The line up included people like Stevie Wonder, Dion, Metallica, B.B King, Bonnie Raitt, Jeff Beck, Art Garfunkel & Paul Simon, Crosby, Stills and Nash...
Pretty stunning.
I heard about the concert...the line-up. Hadn't heard a note of it until this afternoon when our son began playing the concert broadcast he had recorded on his DVR from HBO. I hadn't intended on having my morning swallowed up by amazing music, but I kept listening...and, sometimes, dancing with my 27-month old granddaughter.
Great stuff! The clear voice of Bonnie Raitt singing about love...and then the horn section wailing away on Paul Simon's "You Can Call Me Al."
Do you know what really got me? It was watching people like Graham Nash and David Crosby singing "back up" to other artists. It was watching -and listening to- James Taylor, whose voice seems perfect to my ears, singing Stephen Stills' "Love the One You're With." (I've never been able to figure out those lyrics. Is this some call to relationships anytime and anywhere with anyone, or is he saying "there may be some perfect ideal out there but love the person God has put in your life?")
Taylor is such a star he might have said, "I'll sing only my own hits. Everyone else can join in on 'Sweet Baby James' or 'Up on the Roof" or 'Fire and Rain' but they'll be doing my songs...my music." No, there this extraordinary singer was gladly singing songs made popular by other artists. And he was singing back-up to people like Paul Simon!
Stars stepping to the back of the stage. Out of the lights. Singing backup so others could shine.
I shook my head. Listened to the music. And thought about how that is a pretty good model for relationships...for friendships...for citizenship...for marriage...for life as a Jesus follower.
Jesus gave us an example. He washed the feet of the disciples. He talked about how greatness is really all about becoming small...living as a servant...not fighting over a seat at the head table.
Paul, the first century Christian missionary pastor, talked about being a part of the Body. All of us connected. All of us having a role to play. Paul talked about giving the humblest part honor.
When life is all about me, when we insist on being in the spotlight and having everyone (and everything) else revolve around us, nothing else seems to work. Selfishness wrecks churches, friendships, marriages, and nations.
James Taylor...sweet baby James...singing back up! Wow...superstars doing their best in the shadows.
Come on, people of Jesus, let's rock! Outdo one another in showing respect...affection...honor.
Pretty stunning.
I heard about the concert...the line-up. Hadn't heard a note of it until this afternoon when our son began playing the concert broadcast he had recorded on his DVR from HBO. I hadn't intended on having my morning swallowed up by amazing music, but I kept listening...and, sometimes, dancing with my 27-month old granddaughter.
Great stuff! The clear voice of Bonnie Raitt singing about love...and then the horn section wailing away on Paul Simon's "You Can Call Me Al."
Do you know what really got me? It was watching people like Graham Nash and David Crosby singing "back up" to other artists. It was watching -and listening to- James Taylor, whose voice seems perfect to my ears, singing Stephen Stills' "Love the One You're With." (I've never been able to figure out those lyrics. Is this some call to relationships anytime and anywhere with anyone, or is he saying "there may be some perfect ideal out there but love the person God has put in your life?")
Taylor is such a star he might have said, "I'll sing only my own hits. Everyone else can join in on 'Sweet Baby James' or 'Up on the Roof" or 'Fire and Rain' but they'll be doing my songs...my music." No, there this extraordinary singer was gladly singing songs made popular by other artists. And he was singing back-up to people like Paul Simon!
Stars stepping to the back of the stage. Out of the lights. Singing backup so others could shine.
I shook my head. Listened to the music. And thought about how that is a pretty good model for relationships...for friendships...for citizenship...for marriage...for life as a Jesus follower.
Jesus gave us an example. He washed the feet of the disciples. He talked about how greatness is really all about becoming small...living as a servant...not fighting over a seat at the head table.
Paul, the first century Christian missionary pastor, talked about being a part of the Body. All of us connected. All of us having a role to play. Paul talked about giving the humblest part honor.
When life is all about me, when we insist on being in the spotlight and having everyone (and everything) else revolve around us, nothing else seems to work. Selfishness wrecks churches, friendships, marriages, and nations.
James Taylor...sweet baby James...singing back up! Wow...superstars doing their best in the shadows.
Come on, people of Jesus, let's rock! Outdo one another in showing respect...affection...honor.
Lights in the Night.
Thursday evening we headed east on the toll road. One of the odd things about my life is that unless I spend time with our two granddaughters, I don't get a day off. So although we had seen the kids over Thanksgiving, we were headed towards Columbus, Ohio.
The sky was thick with dark clouds. The sunlight slipped sideways out of the world. I was sitting, doing some work, reading the paper, and thinking...as Sharon drove.
We took the toll road into Ohio, and then headed south on state highway #49. You miss Fort Wayne but the highway has twists and turns. Takes you through one small town after the other.
I was surprised to find myself delighted by the Christmas tree lights in the yards...and in the homes along the way. The night was very dark. The world was cold. And we would drive by these houses where the Christmas lights -especially the trees decorated with all white lights- seemed to be calling us all inside. Promising warmth. Home. Someplace where we could be ourselves.
A CD of Christmas music -by the Christian rock band 3rd Day- was playing. The lights... the homes...the music...all combined to produce all sorts of feelings and memories.
I found myself thinking of our church's work, right now, to become even more welcoming. To strangers and guests. So that people who are hungry for God, for truth, for grace, will feel like they are home when they walk through our doors. I thought about churches that are like those houses with no lights hung by the windows...churches that look cold and dark and lifeless. And I thought about how churches -and individuals- sends messages out to the world that their hearts are open.
And I thought about times when our family...is together. What it feels like to have everyone under the same roof. Sometimes there are tensions...challenges...but almost always it is so very good!
I thought about the Christmas in Belguim, when I was a boy, and my folks were thinking of adopting a young Belgian child. A boy. He came to the house for a visit. I can't remember his name or face. But for whatever reason my parents chose not to take that step.
I thought about my Mom. Sometimes, you know, there are moments when you miss someone so much you think your heart will burst. I was thinking about my Mom...who was wonderful and strange and passionate and distracted and always late and full of love for God. Then, as we stopped at a stoplight in a small Ohio town, I looked over at a store window. The owner had hung four old stockings in the window as a part of a Christmas decoration. One of the stockings
-a red one- happened to have the name Anita inscribed in large script. My Mom's name was Anita. I smiled. The light turned green and we began moving south, again.
The lights along the way make the darkness more than bearable, don't they?
Interesting how Jesus, John explains, was light coming into the darkness. And the darkness has not overcome it.
The sky was thick with dark clouds. The sunlight slipped sideways out of the world. I was sitting, doing some work, reading the paper, and thinking...as Sharon drove.
We took the toll road into Ohio, and then headed south on state highway #49. You miss Fort Wayne but the highway has twists and turns. Takes you through one small town after the other.
I was surprised to find myself delighted by the Christmas tree lights in the yards...and in the homes along the way. The night was very dark. The world was cold. And we would drive by these houses where the Christmas lights -especially the trees decorated with all white lights- seemed to be calling us all inside. Promising warmth. Home. Someplace where we could be ourselves.
A CD of Christmas music -by the Christian rock band 3rd Day- was playing. The lights... the homes...the music...all combined to produce all sorts of feelings and memories.
I found myself thinking of our church's work, right now, to become even more welcoming. To strangers and guests. So that people who are hungry for God, for truth, for grace, will feel like they are home when they walk through our doors. I thought about churches that are like those houses with no lights hung by the windows...churches that look cold and dark and lifeless. And I thought about how churches -and individuals- sends messages out to the world that their hearts are open.
And I thought about times when our family...is together. What it feels like to have everyone under the same roof. Sometimes there are tensions...challenges...but almost always it is so very good!
I thought about the Christmas in Belguim, when I was a boy, and my folks were thinking of adopting a young Belgian child. A boy. He came to the house for a visit. I can't remember his name or face. But for whatever reason my parents chose not to take that step.
I thought about my Mom. Sometimes, you know, there are moments when you miss someone so much you think your heart will burst. I was thinking about my Mom...who was wonderful and strange and passionate and distracted and always late and full of love for God. Then, as we stopped at a stoplight in a small Ohio town, I looked over at a store window. The owner had hung four old stockings in the window as a part of a Christmas decoration. One of the stockings
-a red one- happened to have the name Anita inscribed in large script. My Mom's name was Anita. I smiled. The light turned green and we began moving south, again.
The lights along the way make the darkness more than bearable, don't they?
Interesting how Jesus, John explains, was light coming into the darkness. And the darkness has not overcome it.
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