Some Things Were Better.

Last week I headed north on Thursday afternoon. The family was gathering at Lake Webster in Kosciousko County, where our extended family has a cottage, and then at Koontz Lake in Marshall County (where Sharon's folks live).

It was a fiercely hot day. I drove with the top up on the Miata and the AC running into I got to Carmel/Fishers. Then, I stopped to pick up some fast food, put the top down, cranked up the stereo to play some favorite 1950's and 1960's "doo wop."

The fields were full of corn and soybeans. The sun dropped low. I drove through small towns whose names weren't all that familiar. You see I have never really done much driving up the east side of Indiana on highways like 13 and 37.

A couple of things happened to me as I drove north. The one thing I want to mention in this blog entry is the awareness that in some ways -some ways- life was better 25 and 50 years ago.

I thought of that as I drove through the small town of Point Isabel. Like many small towns I suspect it had more life before big box stores showed up in the county seat and pulled business out of those small, independent stores. Then, I noticed just north of town an abandoned, three story brick schoolhouse. There was fencing around it to keep troublemakers out. But the building was still standing...the closing evidence of the wave of school consolidations across the midwest back in the 1960's and 1970's. People said children would get a better education if they went to a school of 600 instead of a high school of 150 or 200. People said students would have better curriculum, advanced placement classes, and so on. In many ways that is true. No doubt about it.

But something has been lost. All across the midwest students were going to small schools where the teachers knew them and they knew the teachers. Out of those small schools came business leaders and astronauts and physicians and successful farmers and teachers. They may not have had the opportunity to take advanced placement calculus or beginning Chinese but those small schools, in those small communities, were often places where students were known, given a place to grow up, and allowed to be. You didn't need to be an athletic superstar to play varsity basketball or volleyball the way you need to be to play at a school of 1-2,000. You didn't need to have a extraordinary voice to sing a solo in the high school's annual musical or the Spring concert.

It is ironic, now, to hear people talking about the ideal size of schools. It is ironic to hear educators talking about reducing the size of schools so that students don't get lost and the staff know them well enough to coach them...in life.

So the music on stereo is up loud. Some group whose name I can't recall is singing "Since I Don't Have You." The sun is hiding behind the rows of corn to my left as I head north. The brick schoolhouse is left behind. And I realize that in some ways things were better in the past. Does that mean I have been overcome by nostalgia or am a dinosaur? Or is it possible we've left some good things behind as we keep trying to catch the next "new thing?"

Turning Out (& Turning On) the Light Switches

In a week and a half I head off on a 12-week Clergy Leave/Sabbatical. Which the Lilly Endowment Inc. is helping to pay for. So over the last few weeks I have been doing my ministry stuff at TUMC while at the same time taking care of planning details for sabbatical.

Part of what is going on, you know, is sorting out what I should be doing...and what my essential role is here at Trinity. Over the last week or so I have felt like a hiker who is unloading his pack. Sorting through it. Deciding what needs to be carried along in the trail and what needs to be left behind -or handed to others.

The sabbatical is nudging me to ask some tough questions about what it is I do at Trinity. Am I doing the right things? Am I doing too much? Am I getting in the way of others when they could do a much better job than me at some ministry task?

So I have been sorting through my pack. More and more I have been saying "No."

A friend in the community asked if I could help raise $50,000 between now and next Friday for something in the community. I said I couldn't do that.

Another person asked me to make contacts regarding a multi-million dollar campaign to rebuild our Christian camping facilities at Epworth Forest. Between today and next Friday. I said I couldn't do that.

A third person, a pastor in Southern Indiana, asked if I could pull together some ideas about recruiting young Christians into the ministry. I said, "No, I can't do that between now and next Friday."

So I am saying "No" a lot. Sorting things out. Putting things down. Handing things off. Or simply realizing that something isn't mine to deal with...worry about.

I told someone what I am doing is going around turning off switches. He responded, "When you get back think twice before you turn the switches back on. Ask yourself if you want to start doing what you were doing before you went away." It was good advice: I want to do ministry differently when I return in three months. Because sometimes I think I am working hard at good stuff while neglecting even more essential kingdom work.

Jesus talks about seeking first the kingdom. Which involves sorting. Making some decisions about life and priorities and time and energy.

I am turning out the light switches. And I will pray before starting to turn them on when I return.

The Ding & the Bass Line.

Giving your life to Jesus for full-time ministry is a journey full of blessings. However, there is a part to this -as there is to any line of work- that involves carrying a cross.

One of the toughest parts of this is the realization that you cannot -nor should you- please everyone. You do your best for God, and some people -and they are great, good people- head the other direction. I call those "dings." Sometimes I understand the reasons and sometimes I don't. Just two months ago a woman caught me after worship, thanked me for my ministry, told me Trinity's ministry needs to be on a national stage, and then just weeks ago I found out she was leaving the church. Hmmm....figure that out. I dare you.

The crazy thing is that 98% of everything can be going right in a great church like Trinity, and that 2% that criticize, pull back, withdraw...that really stings. Those are "dings" to the heart and soul. You tell yourself not to care so much. You tell yourself that no one church or pastor is for everyone. You tell yourself different people need different styles of ministry. You tell yourself that Jesus was always getting clobbered by those who didn't understand him or who thought he was getting it all wrong. And it still stings.

So the other day I had this "ding." It was a pretty good "ding." Great stuff...people growing their giving to God in a tough environment...notes from people about what Trinity means to them...a report about the $25,000+ our church will have given to a community food ministry this year...and the "ding" hurt.

Do you know what I did?

Well, first I prayed. That's always good. Because being strongly connected to God is the key to having the ability to endure...bounce back from...the "dings." God opens our eyes to a bigger picture and reminds us that our value is not based on pleasing people.

The second thing I did is I told a couple of very close friends I had been "dinged." They understood. The one, also a pastor, sent me a note saying leadership is tough and sometimes lonely. He told me "hang in there."

The third thing is I made a very careful, very strategic selection of music to listen to as I drove across town. I have a great collection of rock and roll, country, and classical (not so much jazz). Some of the rock is soft...introspective...quiet...deep. I didn't think that was going to help me. That kind of music might put me deeper into "ding-land." So it came down to a new CD, The Monsters of Folk, or two older CD's - "Help" by the Beatles or "The Ultimate Collection" by the Temptations.

I made a good choice: I chose the Temptations. (If you aren't familiar with Motown music it's never too late to get that kind of musical salvation! Listen in on Smoky Robinson and Martha Reeves and Stevie Wonder and The Four Tops and The Supremes and The Temptations.) What started me smiling were those amazing, opening notes by the bass on "My Girl." How can the "dings" have you permanently when you hear that bass line and the sweet voices of the Temptations sing: "I've got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it's cold outside I've got the month of May. I guess you say 'What can make me feel this way?' My girl! My girl! Talking 'bout my girl. I've got so much honey the bees envy me. I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees."

Jesus saves. I know that. And am so thankful!

But good music helps, you know? Especially with the "dings."

Always a Little Messy.

It is easy for the previous generation to look as if it were made up of giants...heroes who saw things clearly. They may have been more ordinary than we imagine.

Remember in high school when, as a freshman or sophomore, you regarded the seniors as if they were gods walking the earth? Then, you became a senior and you felt...so...ordinary.

It is also easy to think that the messy way we move through change, today, is very unlike the clear, thoughtful, courageous way our forefathers and foremothers worked through change. My hunch, though is change is almost always messy...and the people who lead through it are often making up things as they go along.

Right now the United Methodist Church in Indiana is going through lots of change. Two annual conferences becoming one. New structures being put in place. New leaders. New processes. On and on and on. This afternoon many of the pastors and laity of northcentral and northwestern Indiana met at LaPorte for the first meeting of the Northern District.

Our leader is the Reverend Cindy Reynolds. She is one cool person! And she will lead this new herd of cats with as much faith and love and courage as any human could muster, but the change will be messy. Progress will come with two steps forward and one step back.

Change is messy. We see that in Washington right now with the whole healthcare debate. We see that as our national leaders try to sort out options in Afghanistan. We see that in our own community as the leaders of Elkhart County scratch their heads, look at the challenges, and search for new ways forward.

Change is messy.

And it is often led by people who are doing their best to figure out the next step.

The early Christian church faced a huge decision: would Jewish Christians need to be circumcised before becoming Jesus followers and members of the Church. They held this big conference or council in Jerusalem. It looks pretty neat and simple and clean, if you look in the book of Acts, but the truth is I think it was a mess. Even with people praying and the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

So if you are frustrated by the mess in your life, our country, or your church...maybe that's just the way we get from here to there. The way progress and change takes place.

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!

Prophets of Doom.

We're in the middle of a rough patch. Locally. In America. And around the world. Eighty year olds look at all this, shrug, and say, "We've been here before. We'll get through it." But for a lot of us who are younger this is the first, serious, economic valley we've found ourselves in.

Someone told me this morning about a church in our area that is telling people everything is going to crash. The dollar is going to lose all value. The economic system will come to a total halt. They are telling their people that the market signs point to the imminent return of Jesus and the end of the world as we know it.

Now prophets -spokespeople for God- are faced with two temptations. On the one hand they can minimize what is wrong. Tell people everything is okay because people like to be comforted...re-assured. Prophets can say everything is okay when it isn't. Jeremiah 6:14 talks about prophets who "heal the wound" of God's people "lightly." Who say "Peace, peace" when there is no peace.

The other direction prophets, prophets and religious writers can go is to use every crisis as a "sign" that everything is crashing, Jesus is about to return, and the age is nearing an end. There are preachers and writers who have been getting rich off this sort of message for generations. When people are already scared and uncertain it is an easy way to fill pews or sell books.

Jesus, in Luke 21:8, said there would be false prophets or teachers. Proclaiming that the current crisis was the sign that his return was imminent. But, Jesus said, don't let these pretend experts lead you astray.
In Matthew 24:36 Jesus says only God knows when this world is going to end as God begins a new age.

Grace demands we give these prophets of doom the benefit of the doubt. So I assume they think they are helping their people out..."reading" the signs of the age. Interpreting events. But I also would warn my brothers and sisters who lead Christian communities not to use difficult times and the negative energy they generate to build their congregations...fill their pews...or sell more books.

There is something sad...unseemly...about preachers feeding on the fear in the hearts of the sheep...to build up their own religious kingdoms. If that is what they are doing....if.