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.
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Greatest Threat.
A few weeks ago a reporter from MSNBC asked me, "What is the biggest threat ahead of your community...your people?"
"Despair," I said.
We'll get through the short-term crisis of this economic downturn, I said. In our city of 55,000 people the actual unemployment rate is probably above 20%. Our folks have been through economic recessions before, and they are pretty resilient. They are creative and they'll come back.
Human beings have a pretty amazing capacity to come through a short-term crisis. The soldiers under fire in a Baghdad neighborhood react with amazing resourcefulness. The family with a very sick young child pulls together and gets through the crisis.
When thngs can get really tough, though, is after the crisis passes or first hits. it's the long haul that can wear a military unit down...or a family...or a marriage...or a community.
"We'll get through the first stages of the crisis okay," I said, "but I worry about people surrendering to despair when the challenges linger for months. When that great job doesn't come back...or when some changes we thought were going to be temporary look like they might become temporary."
Yesterday I got a phone call from a buddy: after months of searching he had just received a job offer. The application process, the interviews and all, had gone on for weeks. The job was his! I could hear the relief in his voice. Today I found out another friend didn't get the job they had been hoping for, interviewing for, and I know this must feel like a very, very tough Friday. A member of the family told me, after hearing the news, that God is good...God is faithful...and there is another job out there.
We are focused on helping one another through the crisis. I find myself wondering about the long term.
I keep thinking about the empty tomb of Easter. I keep thinking about the two men traveling to the town of Emmaus, after they had heard Jesus had been nailed to a cross and buried in the ground. "But we had hoped..." they said to a stranger (who turned out to the risen Christ).
Despair is like a dog that prowls the neighborhood. Always ready to dig its teeth into us. But we are going through this together. And we have a God whose resurrection power shows up in all sorts of ways.
"Despair," I said.
We'll get through the short-term crisis of this economic downturn, I said. In our city of 55,000 people the actual unemployment rate is probably above 20%. Our folks have been through economic recessions before, and they are pretty resilient. They are creative and they'll come back.
Human beings have a pretty amazing capacity to come through a short-term crisis. The soldiers under fire in a Baghdad neighborhood react with amazing resourcefulness. The family with a very sick young child pulls together and gets through the crisis.
When thngs can get really tough, though, is after the crisis passes or first hits. it's the long haul that can wear a military unit down...or a family...or a marriage...or a community.
"We'll get through the first stages of the crisis okay," I said, "but I worry about people surrendering to despair when the challenges linger for months. When that great job doesn't come back...or when some changes we thought were going to be temporary look like they might become temporary."
Yesterday I got a phone call from a buddy: after months of searching he had just received a job offer. The application process, the interviews and all, had gone on for weeks. The job was his! I could hear the relief in his voice. Today I found out another friend didn't get the job they had been hoping for, interviewing for, and I know this must feel like a very, very tough Friday. A member of the family told me, after hearing the news, that God is good...God is faithful...and there is another job out there.
We are focused on helping one another through the crisis. I find myself wondering about the long term.
I keep thinking about the empty tomb of Easter. I keep thinking about the two men traveling to the town of Emmaus, after they had heard Jesus had been nailed to a cross and buried in the ground. "But we had hoped..." they said to a stranger (who turned out to the risen Christ).
Despair is like a dog that prowls the neighborhood. Always ready to dig its teeth into us. But we are going through this together. And we have a God whose resurrection power shows up in all sorts of ways.
You Can Do Your Best and Still Get It Wrong.
One of the first illusions to die, in middle age, is the youthful assumption that if you are bright enough, faithful enough, and wise enough - you'll avoid messing up.
We saw the previous generation doing their best, and we could see their blind spots. They made such foolish mistakes! They seemed so blind to injustice! We were going to do better. We would never send young men off to die in a military mistake. We would get this whole issue of racial injustice squared away in short order. Children in America -and the world- would never go to bed hungry at night when we got our chance to lead. The church, when we got the chance to lead, would be more creative...more faithful...and not so captive to traditional, middle class values. We would be more reckless, more radical for Jesus than those polite, white-glove-wearing, ushers decorated in suit-and-tie-and-white-shirt midwestern ushers of the 50's and early 60's.
There has been some progress made, but we still can get things so wrong.
Our church is in the middle of a major attempt to be radical for Jesus, and be more effective by doing fewer things better. People across the country talk about the church becoming "simple." This new emphasis is a good thing, I think. At Trinity we try so many things that sometimes we forget to focus on helping people grow in Christ.
A few months ago our staff talked about the request of an individual who wanted to lead an AA group in our church building. The man has no connection to the church, we didn't want to just provide a room to a disconnected group, and we wanted to do some sort of recovery ministry
- but we wanted to have that group connected to the church. So that people could, as they recovered, have the opportunity to follow Jesus. Not that they would be forced into being a United Methodists, or Christians, but that the group would be linked to the ministries of the larger church.
A friend heard about that decision and she -along with her husband- was furious. Puzzled. Hurt. Because they both have a heart of compassion, and understand that if the church isn't helping the least and the lost then it probably ought to take down the cross about the building.
We finally talked about all of this a week ago. She told me it was good we had waited to talk. "I would have been too angry if we had met earlier," she said, "and you would have been defensive. So this is good...I don't agree with the decision. But I feel heard."
I told her we may well have been wrong. I told her we tried to make the right decision for the right reasons -not to be high-handed or indifferent, but just wanted to make sure recovery ministries were connected to discipleship. We support hunger ministries, we have volunteers tutoring in the schools, we are working with folks out of work -we do a lot of good for God at Trinity but we may have blown this call. Missed this opportunity to do ministry.
We may have been wrong. I hate that. I hate that we make mistakes. As individuals and as a church and as followers of Jesus around the world. (And then, again, maybe it was the right call. If we said "yes" to every opportunity to do something good, in our large church, we would wreck ourselves.)
Wrong turns, missed opportunities, go with the territory, I fear. Make enough decisions, hang around and lead long enough, and you are going to make all kinds of mistakes. And I hate that. I would like to be able to bat 1,000 or hit every foul shot or sink every putt.
"Thanks for hanging with me...with us," I said. "Please keep praying with us...for us. That we'll do the right thing for God."
The whole conversation made me thing about an old Walter Wangerin story. Walter was a young pastor of an inner-city congregation down in Evansville more than 30 years ago. A prostitute was using the church's outside water source, after dark, to fill her own pails. Her water had been turned off so she used the church's water. Walter was outraged by this thievery and so he had the church turned off the outside water. A member of the church caught him. Shook her fingers at her pastor and told him he ought to be ashamed. Said that maybe the most important ministry the church had to that woman was letting her fill her buckets with the water the church had paid for. Jesus would have never turned that woman away, or turned that water off, the woman said.
Sometimes we get it wrong. And I am so thankful for all those lovers of Jesus who keep loving us, praying for us, and not giving up on us...or the church.
We saw the previous generation doing their best, and we could see their blind spots. They made such foolish mistakes! They seemed so blind to injustice! We were going to do better. We would never send young men off to die in a military mistake. We would get this whole issue of racial injustice squared away in short order. Children in America -and the world- would never go to bed hungry at night when we got our chance to lead. The church, when we got the chance to lead, would be more creative...more faithful...and not so captive to traditional, middle class values. We would be more reckless, more radical for Jesus than those polite, white-glove-wearing, ushers decorated in suit-and-tie-and-white-shirt midwestern ushers of the 50's and early 60's.
There has been some progress made, but we still can get things so wrong.
Our church is in the middle of a major attempt to be radical for Jesus, and be more effective by doing fewer things better. People across the country talk about the church becoming "simple." This new emphasis is a good thing, I think. At Trinity we try so many things that sometimes we forget to focus on helping people grow in Christ.
A few months ago our staff talked about the request of an individual who wanted to lead an AA group in our church building. The man has no connection to the church, we didn't want to just provide a room to a disconnected group, and we wanted to do some sort of recovery ministry
- but we wanted to have that group connected to the church. So that people could, as they recovered, have the opportunity to follow Jesus. Not that they would be forced into being a United Methodists, or Christians, but that the group would be linked to the ministries of the larger church.
A friend heard about that decision and she -along with her husband- was furious. Puzzled. Hurt. Because they both have a heart of compassion, and understand that if the church isn't helping the least and the lost then it probably ought to take down the cross about the building.
We finally talked about all of this a week ago. She told me it was good we had waited to talk. "I would have been too angry if we had met earlier," she said, "and you would have been defensive. So this is good...I don't agree with the decision. But I feel heard."
I told her we may well have been wrong. I told her we tried to make the right decision for the right reasons -not to be high-handed or indifferent, but just wanted to make sure recovery ministries were connected to discipleship. We support hunger ministries, we have volunteers tutoring in the schools, we are working with folks out of work -we do a lot of good for God at Trinity but we may have blown this call. Missed this opportunity to do ministry.
We may have been wrong. I hate that. I hate that we make mistakes. As individuals and as a church and as followers of Jesus around the world. (And then, again, maybe it was the right call. If we said "yes" to every opportunity to do something good, in our large church, we would wreck ourselves.)
Wrong turns, missed opportunities, go with the territory, I fear. Make enough decisions, hang around and lead long enough, and you are going to make all kinds of mistakes. And I hate that. I would like to be able to bat 1,000 or hit every foul shot or sink every putt.
"Thanks for hanging with me...with us," I said. "Please keep praying with us...for us. That we'll do the right thing for God."
The whole conversation made me thing about an old Walter Wangerin story. Walter was a young pastor of an inner-city congregation down in Evansville more than 30 years ago. A prostitute was using the church's outside water source, after dark, to fill her own pails. Her water had been turned off so she used the church's water. Walter was outraged by this thievery and so he had the church turned off the outside water. A member of the church caught him. Shook her fingers at her pastor and told him he ought to be ashamed. Said that maybe the most important ministry the church had to that woman was letting her fill her buckets with the water the church had paid for. Jesus would have never turned that woman away, or turned that water off, the woman said.
Sometimes we get it wrong. And I am so thankful for all those lovers of Jesus who keep loving us, praying for us, and not giving up on us...or the church.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sometimes You Don't Know You're There Until You Arrive.
Over a year ago I was haunted by the sense that we were missing something at Trinity. Well, not missing something really. Not missing something because our life here is full of good stuff...great ministries...all sorts of activites... There is a "buzz" about this congregation and all the ways it reaches out and serves people in the name of Christ.
I was haunted, though, by this sense that we are too busy...doing too much... "shooting" at too many targets. We were doing good stuff for God, I could see. But were we doing the right things? Did we really understand the essential stuff God wants us to be doing?
So I started walking around muttering "I think we need to do less and do it better."
I started walking around saying, "We need to welcome people better, connect new people with serving teams and small groups, and figure out how we can help grow disciples."
I had this sense we were missing something.
Then, in the middle of the summer, our staff went up to Chicago for a two-day retreat. On the train I started reading Thom Rainer's book "Simple Church." I started nodding...I felt like he had been inside my head (now there is a scary thought!). Rainer and his co-author, Eric Geiger, talk about how churches can lose their focus -and power- as they try to do too much and move in too many directions at once. Wow!
This past Sunday afternoon our leaders gathered for our annual Leadership Retreat. We talked about how we do so much...but sometimes take our eyes off the primary tasks of welcoming people, connecting new people to the Christian community in a thoughtful and loving way, and making disciples.
In our conversation we stumbled around a bit. Got caught on a point or two here and there.
But those of us in the room realized where we were: God is calling us to be a congregation focused on the challenge of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.
And we are going to do that in three basic ways:
Growing in God (worship, prayer, sacraments, Bible study).
Growing Together (small groups, Bible studies, serving teams).
Growing in Service (serving, giving, leading).
We'll figure out the details as we live into the future. We'll ask every planning group and ministry team to make sure what they are doing fuels those three, primary ministries...those goals. And if something doesn't "fit" then we won't do it.
It's exciting. And a little bit scary. And a relief...as we give one another permission not to keep trying to do everything for everyone.
We didn't know we were going to end up standing here. We've been plugging along for God, doing great things for God, but I think a whole bunch of us have had this feeling that we were missing something. Doing too much. Too busy. Not focused on the right things that can make big differences in the lives of people.
So here we are. Simple Church. Making disciples. Growing in God, Growing Together, and Growing in Service.
Sometimes you don't know you're there until you arrive. And here we are - at the start of a new adventure with God and one another!
I was haunted, though, by this sense that we are too busy...doing too much... "shooting" at too many targets. We were doing good stuff for God, I could see. But were we doing the right things? Did we really understand the essential stuff God wants us to be doing?
So I started walking around muttering "I think we need to do less and do it better."
I started walking around saying, "We need to welcome people better, connect new people with serving teams and small groups, and figure out how we can help grow disciples."
I had this sense we were missing something.
Then, in the middle of the summer, our staff went up to Chicago for a two-day retreat. On the train I started reading Thom Rainer's book "Simple Church." I started nodding...I felt like he had been inside my head (now there is a scary thought!). Rainer and his co-author, Eric Geiger, talk about how churches can lose their focus -and power- as they try to do too much and move in too many directions at once. Wow!
This past Sunday afternoon our leaders gathered for our annual Leadership Retreat. We talked about how we do so much...but sometimes take our eyes off the primary tasks of welcoming people, connecting new people to the Christian community in a thoughtful and loving way, and making disciples.
In our conversation we stumbled around a bit. Got caught on a point or two here and there.
But those of us in the room realized where we were: God is calling us to be a congregation focused on the challenge of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.
And we are going to do that in three basic ways:
Growing in God (worship, prayer, sacraments, Bible study).
Growing Together (small groups, Bible studies, serving teams).
Growing in Service (serving, giving, leading).
We'll figure out the details as we live into the future. We'll ask every planning group and ministry team to make sure what they are doing fuels those three, primary ministries...those goals. And if something doesn't "fit" then we won't do it.
It's exciting. And a little bit scary. And a relief...as we give one another permission not to keep trying to do everything for everyone.
We didn't know we were going to end up standing here. We've been plugging along for God, doing great things for God, but I think a whole bunch of us have had this feeling that we were missing something. Doing too much. Too busy. Not focused on the right things that can make big differences in the lives of people.
So here we are. Simple Church. Making disciples. Growing in God, Growing Together, and Growing in Service.
Sometimes you don't know you're there until you arrive. And here we are - at the start of a new adventure with God and one another!
Friday, January 9, 2009
Those People Love!
I have a place.
It's a little coffee shop on East Jackson. Another coffee shop out on highway 120 used to be my place to sit, outline a sermon, have a cup of coffee and breathe. But the old place closed up. The new shop is called Heavenly Brew. It's in a little, old house that used to be a florist shop.
HB is just right. Safe. Cozy. They know my name...and they know I like warmed-up 2% milk with my baked oatmeal.
I have a place.
This morning I noticed a woman noticing me. She was sitting with her college-age daughter, having a conversation, and as they got up to go she approached me. Held out her hand. Said, "Don't I know you...you're the pastor at the church?" I nodded and introduced myself. Told her, yes, that I was down the street at Trinity United Methodist.
She told me she lives a few blocks from Trinity. The woman belongs to a small church in Goshen. But she has slipped into Trinity a couple of times for worship or a class or a women's ministry thing.
Her face lit up. "Oh, that church!" she said. "There is great stuff going on, and the people are so welcoming...so loving! As soon as I walked in I could tell they cared...loved one another. And I felt so welcome."
Before the woman left the shop we shook hands. She threw her arms open wide and said, "Those people know how to love!"
I'll tell our people that, this weekend. Remind them about what others see and we may take for granted.
I have a place.
I think everyone wants to have a place -and often they are looking to the church to be just that place.
It's a little coffee shop on East Jackson. Another coffee shop out on highway 120 used to be my place to sit, outline a sermon, have a cup of coffee and breathe. But the old place closed up. The new shop is called Heavenly Brew. It's in a little, old house that used to be a florist shop.
HB is just right. Safe. Cozy. They know my name...and they know I like warmed-up 2% milk with my baked oatmeal.
I have a place.
This morning I noticed a woman noticing me. She was sitting with her college-age daughter, having a conversation, and as they got up to go she approached me. Held out her hand. Said, "Don't I know you...you're the pastor at the church?" I nodded and introduced myself. Told her, yes, that I was down the street at Trinity United Methodist.
She told me she lives a few blocks from Trinity. The woman belongs to a small church in Goshen. But she has slipped into Trinity a couple of times for worship or a class or a women's ministry thing.
Her face lit up. "Oh, that church!" she said. "There is great stuff going on, and the people are so welcoming...so loving! As soon as I walked in I could tell they cared...loved one another. And I felt so welcome."
Before the woman left the shop we shook hands. She threw her arms open wide and said, "Those people know how to love!"
I'll tell our people that, this weekend. Remind them about what others see and we may take for granted.
I have a place.
I think everyone wants to have a place -and often they are looking to the church to be just that place.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Faith Enough to Sleep.
It doesn't happen often.
Usually I lay my head back on the pillow, at night, and am soon asleep.
Not last night, though.
Not last night.
After a long day I crawled into bed around midnight. Sleep never came. (And I had been careful to order a decafe coffee at an area bookstore when we stopped by around 9:30 last night!)
Every now and then I would check the clock. I slipped out of bed in the middle of the night so my tossing and turning wouldn't keep Sharon awake. Headed upstairs to the twin bed in my office at home.
As the clock approached six in the morning, I gave up the battle. Got up, showered, ironed a shirt, dressed, grabbed the morning paper, and made myself a bowl of cereal.
(Have you ever tried preaching three times without sleep? I'd not recommend it!)
I may be wide of the mark here, but I suspect the ability to sleep is tied to our confidence in God's ability to handle things in our absence. When we feel things depend on us then a part of us refuses to sleep.
Do I trust God enough to lay down all the heavy stuff I am trying to carry in my arms...my mind...my heart?
There is a beautiful story in the middle of the 8th chapter of Matthew's gospel. Jesus and the disciples get into a boat (8:23) to cross the Sea of Galilee. The freshwater lake was -and is- notorious for sudden storms. On the way across the lake a storm comes up. Matthew says the boat was about to be swamped by the waves. Verse 24 tells us Jesus was asleep in the bottom of the boat.
I love that detail.
The winds are raging, the craft is rocking, the water is slapping over the sides of the boat, and the Son of God is sound asleep! He didn't open his eyes until the frantic disciples woke him up as they shouted, "Save, Lord; we are perishing!" It is a picture of confidence in the ultimate power and goodness of the Father. It is a picture of peace.
As I lay my head down in the bottom of my small boat tonight I'll pray for that kind of peace. That kind of confidence. That kind of faith. Not just for me but for you...
Usually I lay my head back on the pillow, at night, and am soon asleep.
Not last night, though.
Not last night.
After a long day I crawled into bed around midnight. Sleep never came. (And I had been careful to order a decafe coffee at an area bookstore when we stopped by around 9:30 last night!)
Every now and then I would check the clock. I slipped out of bed in the middle of the night so my tossing and turning wouldn't keep Sharon awake. Headed upstairs to the twin bed in my office at home.
As the clock approached six in the morning, I gave up the battle. Got up, showered, ironed a shirt, dressed, grabbed the morning paper, and made myself a bowl of cereal.
(Have you ever tried preaching three times without sleep? I'd not recommend it!)
I may be wide of the mark here, but I suspect the ability to sleep is tied to our confidence in God's ability to handle things in our absence. When we feel things depend on us then a part of us refuses to sleep.
Do I trust God enough to lay down all the heavy stuff I am trying to carry in my arms...my mind...my heart?
There is a beautiful story in the middle of the 8th chapter of Matthew's gospel. Jesus and the disciples get into a boat (8:23) to cross the Sea of Galilee. The freshwater lake was -and is- notorious for sudden storms. On the way across the lake a storm comes up. Matthew says the boat was about to be swamped by the waves. Verse 24 tells us Jesus was asleep in the bottom of the boat.
I love that detail.
The winds are raging, the craft is rocking, the water is slapping over the sides of the boat, and the Son of God is sound asleep! He didn't open his eyes until the frantic disciples woke him up as they shouted, "Save, Lord; we are perishing!" It is a picture of confidence in the ultimate power and goodness of the Father. It is a picture of peace.
As I lay my head down in the bottom of my small boat tonight I'll pray for that kind of peace. That kind of confidence. That kind of faith. Not just for me but for you...
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