More Than Sunday

"Another Way"

2011-12-20T09:45:00.001-05:00

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God…”

-2 Corinthians 5:17

In the darkest days of World War II, English poet W.H. Auden wrote a long poem entitled For The Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio. In this 52-page poem, Auden imagines the thoughts of the main characters of the Christmas story, and what spurs them on to do what they do. He uses common everyday language, and presents the events of the story as if they were happening in the contemporary world. Through a series of dramatic character monologues, interspersed with narration and choruses, we encounter the people of the Christmas story in a very personal and captivating way. Ultimately, his goal is not to just retell the events of that first Christmas in a new way, but to remind us that the events of that incarnation forever impact our lives.

As I read through this poem for the first time ever last month, I was intrigued by his portrayal of the wise men. The gospels don’t tell us much about them in terms of details. Matthew doesn’t even reveal to us how many of them there were. We know they came from afar, following a star, bringing gifts of great symbolic value, and that when they left, they went home “another way.”

Auden points out that not only did they go home “another way” directionally, but they also went home “another way” as different people. The events of that holy moment transformed each of them into new creations. In his poem, each wise man came for a different reason. The first, a scientist, came seeking truth, and to become more truthful about himself. “To discover how to be truthful now is the reason I follow this star.” The second was so fixated on the past and the future that he had forgotten how to live in the present. “We anticipate or remember but never are. To discover how to be living now is the reason I follow this star.” The third is so self-centered and narcissistic that he cannot love. “To discover how to be loving now is the reason I follow this star.” Each, after the experience of being in the presence of the Christ-child, found a new way of living. They went home “another way” because they had become new creations.

During this season, we too who have made the journey to the manger, are called to allow that encounter to transform our lives; to let the incarnation of Christmas re-create us into new people…people whose old lives are replaced with new lives of meaning and substance and purpose. People who will go forth “another way.”

Auld writes in a prayer by Simeon: “And because of His visitation, we may no longer desire God as if He were lacking: our redemption is no longer a question of pursuit but of surrender to Him who is always and everywhere present. Therefore at every moment we pray that, following Him, we may depart from our anxiety into His peace. It’s errors forgiven, may our vision come home.”

Respect

2011-01-14T17:05:00.000-05:00

The shootings that took place in Arizona last week are just so disturbing. It's difficult to put into words the range of emotions that well up inside at a senseless tragedy of this magnitude. Anger, frustration, discouragement, grief...they all have held a place in my heart over the last few days.

I was in the car yesterday and happened to be listening to a radio program in which callers were sharing their opinions about the possible causes of the shooting. Though most callers rightfully acknowledged the psychological issues of the shooter as the sole cause, it was deeply interesting to hear the impact that many feel the inflamed political rhetoric by political pundits and candidates might have played in pushing the murderer "over the edge." Surprisingly, there was little blaming of one side over the other, but instead a general feeling that both sides (left and right on the political spectrum) have gone too far in vilifying their political opponents.

At one point in the show, a caller stated that it's time we got back to earning each other's respect. She used the phrase, "Respect must be earned before it is given."

I deeply disagree with that statement, and maybe that type of thinking is at the root of this overall problem in our political atmosphere and society in general. Respect for another should not have to be earned before we give it. Inherent respect should be our behavior toward every other human being that we encounter, regardless of whether we know them, agree with them, or look and act like them. Demanding respect to be earned before it is given simply ensures that we will withhold it unless they do and say what we want them to.

Part of what makes democracy work is a starting point of mutual respect for all that then allows us to have diverse opinions and debates. Disagreeing with another human being over political philosophy (or theology for that matter) should never end with us dehumanizing them into "the enemy". We need to recover respect for each other for sure...but not only after its earned. We need to recover respect for each other as our true starting point.

How sad that it takes these deaths to get us to realize how far we've gone astray from that ideal.

Chuck

2010-11-22T12:48:00.000-05:00

Chuck Frasier (8.25.51 - 11.18.10)

Chuck.

The world lost a GREAT man on Thursday of last week. Chuck Frasier, the longtime director of Covenant Point Bible Camp in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, died of an apparent heart attack while out deer hunting. His wife called the camp, concerned that Chuck hadn't come home once it had gotten dark out. A couple of guys from camp went out to his deer stand and found him. Just the day before he was telling one of the guys who found his body how much he looked forward to being out in his deer stand, as it was one of the high moments of the year when he spent some serious time praying and communing with God, alone out there in the peace and quiet of the woods. For those of us who love Chuck, there is great comfort in the midst of our grief, in knowing that when he passed from this life into the next, he was in the intimate presence of the God he loved and served so faithfully.

The impact that Chuck has had on multiple generations of teenagers and young adults is immeasurable. To think of the thousands of kids who have attended camp, worked on staff, or been mentored under Chuck's leadership, and knew him to be a modern day Barnabas, reveals the depth of blessing that he has been to the Evangelical Covenant Church, and Christ's Kingdom here on earth. I know how deeply his work ethic, pasionate commitment to Jesus, and compassionate heart affected me as a young man just starting out in ministry. There was just something about Chuck that oozed leadership and role model. Within 5 minutes of being in his presence, you knew this was a person to emulate. I know that a part of who I am today as a pastor has its roots in conversations with Chuck, and just watching him in action. He will be dearly missed.

If you travel in Covenant circles in the Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan areas, and say that one simple word, "Chuck", you're bound to get a smile, a shake of the head, and a story of how Chuck touched their life, or the life of someone close to them. One simple name: Chuck. A name and a life that will not be forgotten.

Well done, good and faithful servant.

Peace

2010-09-29T16:01:00.000-04:00

Peace is elusive.

I don't mean peace in the sense of lack of warfare or cessation of violence (although God knows that too is surely lacking in our world), but in the sense of personal contentment and security and serenity. I mean, when is the last time you were really filled with a simple, profound and overwhelming sense of peace within your heart, mind and soul?

The other night I was blessed with one of those too-few moments in life in which I was overwhelmed by that deep sense of peace that the scriptures call the "peace that passes understanding". It had been a long week. In addition to an overloaded schedule both at work and at home, I was struggling with a health issue that not only made me feel crappy, but actually made me kind of nervous. I worried if this could be more serious than the typical health issues that come up in the course of a year. As the week went on, I found myself seeking the one promise of God that has always seemed most difficult to grasp: peace.

On Tuesday, after a meeting of my Pastoral Relations Committee in which they prayed for me, my ministry and my family, I went home, changed clothes and went out for my evening run. It was a beautiful night...cool, crisp, a few clouds floating by on a pretty strong, gusty wind, stars and a full moon shining brightly. When I finished my run, instead of hustling inside and jumping into the shower like I normally do, I left my headphones on and sat down on the grass. The wind felt great. The air was dry. It was a perfect temperature. I laid back and looked up at the clouds and stars and moon, felt the wind against my skin and the softness of the grass, listened to Alexi Murdoch on my iPod...and there and then it came. Peace. As strong and as real as if it were a person sitting down on the grass next to me. It was such a wonderful, overwhelming feeling. I closed my eyes, felt a wide smile erupt on my face, and just thanked God for His presence. For His presence is peace.

It took a lot to eventually get up off of the grass and go inside to get ready for bed. I fell asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow. What a gift, this precious thing called peace is. What a difference it makes as we journey through life.

Peace is elusive, but that doesn't mean it isn't freely offered and available for those who slow down long enough to receive it.

Burning Books

2010-09-10T14:10:00.000-04:00

Pedro Berruguete, 15th century

It was a full 100 years before the Nazis came to power in Germany that the German author Heinrich Heine wrote the words, "Where they have burned books, they will end in burning human beings." Sadly, these words would be prophetic with the Nazi reign of terror that began with book burnings and culminated in the flames of the Holocaust.

Burning books is nothing new. The Church has done it before. This painting by Berruguete recalls an earlier time in the life of the Church (13th century)when, in an attempt to combat heresy, the Church burned books associated with the Cathar movement. Soon after, they stopped burning Cathar books and moved on to burning the Cathars themselves at the stake.

Historically, books haven't been burned simply because they were found to be disagreeable (exceptions exist of course). They were burned because of fear. Fear that the ideals and theology put forward in these books would somehow undermine the power of the group doing the burning. So, logically, the next step after burning books was to go after the source of the ideals and theology found in those books, which of course, led to people. Real, live, human beings. And that's where Heine is right. Burning books ultimately leads to burning bodies.

The Quran burning event, led by Pastor Terry Jones and the Dove World Outreach Center in Gainsville, Florida, that has now been, we're told, "postponed", is repugnant. To have it associated in any way with Jesus Christ and those of us who claim to be His followers simply sickens me. The Jesus I know is about grace and love and mercy. He speaks the Truth, but He does so around tables, breaking bread with those considered to be outcasts, teaching all who have ears to hear to love their neighbors as well as their enemies.

The sole thing that Pastor Jones has said that I agree with is this: "this event is neither an act of love nor an act of hate". He's right. At its core, it is an act of fear. And as the Church of Jesus Christ we are called by Him to be about acts of love in this world. To reveal God's mercy, grace and glory through acts of radical love.

Any act that does not meet that standard is no act of the true Church of Jesus Christ.

Mosaic

2010-07-28T14:43:00.005-04:00

A few weeks back I was the speaker of the week at Pilgrim Pines, a Christian conference center affiliated with the East Coast Conference of the Evangelical Covenant Church. It is a place that holds a long, deep, and meaningful place in my life, and has been instrumental in my faith walk. I relish the opportunities I have to go there and give back to a place that has given me so much. (http://www.pilgrimpines.org/)

My theme for the week was entitled "The Beautiful Struggle: Finding Hope and Glimpsing Glory." It was a deeply powerful week as we uncovered how it is so often in the midst of life's struggles that we meaningfully encounter God's overwhelming love and mercy. And in addition, how our response to the struggles of life can be a witness of God's light to a world so lost in darkness.

Through scripture study (centered on Romans 8), relevant videos, and personal stories, we allowed ourselves to see how the fragments of our broken lives can fit together to make a beautiful mosaic of Christ's grace.

As a hands-on application of this, we made a mosaic tile cross. One of the skilled wood workers at the retreat center made me a 2 foot by three foot wooden cross with a quarter inch lip all the way around it. We provided tile pieces of all shapes, colors, textures and sizes, as well as the tile adhesive. The folks in attendance were invited to come forward and select a tile fragment that represented one piece of the brokenness in their own life, and to place it anywhere they chose on the cross. After they finished, we let the adhesive set, and later that night applied the grout to fill in the cracks and edges. The next morning, at the conclusion of my last session, we unveiled the cross. When I did, you could hear the gasp from the crowd.

It was beautiful. It shimmered. It reflected the light. It revealed the very glory of God. The fragments...the broken pieces...the weakness...all came together to reveal God.

It is in our weakness that God is glorified. It is in our brokeness that His strength is revealed. In Christ, the struggle becomes beautiful.

One Stone

2010-04-04T07:38:00.005-04:00

On February 27th of this year, at 3:34am local time, an earthquake of 8.8 on the Moment Magnitude Scale, lasting approximately 90 seconds in duration, struck the country of Chile, south of the capital of Santiago. The quake caused tsunamis that destroyed several coastal towns, and caused damage as far away as San Diego and Japan. This earthquake, caused when the Nazca Tectonic Plate slid under the westward moving South American Tectonic Plate, was so strong and so immense, that the details are almost too amazing to comprehend. The name that scientists use for these rare massive earthquakes hint at their enormity. They are called “megathrust earthquakes”, and the one that struck Chile in February, was one of the most powerful ever recorded. For perspective, it was 500 times more powerful than the earthquake that devastated the country of Haiti just a month beforehand. 500 times more powerful.

Electrical power was knocked out for over 93% of the entire country. Over 500,000 homes were damaged and destroyed. Insurance estimates put the monetary damage at around 7 billion dollars total. Thankfully, the loss of life was much less than what occurred during and following the earthquake in Haiti, mainly due to tough imposed building codes, and the immediate availability of post-earthquake aid by the Chilean government.

The earthquake was so powerful it was felt thousands of miles away. It caused standing waves known as “seiches” (sayshes) to occur on Lake Pontchartrain, just north of New Orleans…that’s 5,000 miles away from the epicenter of the quake. This quake was so strong it actually moved the Chilean city of Concepcion 10 feet to the west; it moved the capital city of Santiago 11 inches to the southwest. Buenos Aires, Argentina, which is over 1500 miles away, was physically shifted close to 2 inches westward. This was a massive earthquake.

But maybe the best way to understand the size and power and enormity of this quake, is by hearing what scientists now say it did to our planet as a whole. The latest scientific findings show that the earthquake, caused by the movement of these massive plates of the earth’s crust, shifted so much mass of earth and rock, that it has actually affected the earth’s rotation. The entire balance of our planet’s mass was shifted by this earthquake, and it has changed the gravitational axis of the earth.

Richard Gross, a geophysicist at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California, used a computer model to determine that the quake has moved the Earth's figure axis about 8 centimeters, or three inches from where it previously stood. The figure axis is the one around which the Earth's mass is balanced. Scientists explain this through the image of a figure skater. When a figure skater is spinning around ina cricle, and then pull their arms in tight, they spin faster, because their figure axis bring their body mass inward which causes them to spin tighter and faster. When the skater puts their arms outward away from their body, then their mass is spread out more and they spin slower. The immense movement of mass during the Chile earthquake has caused a shift in the earth’s figure axis, and our planet’s rotation has actually sped up. And since the rotation of our earth determines the length of our days, our days have grown shorter, as it takes less time for the earth to now make one full rotation. Time, as we know it, has been altered. The amount less is small so that you don’t notice it, but each day on earth since the earthquake is now 1.26 microseconds shorter than it was. The earthquake changed time as we know it. Can you imagine something so immense, so powerful, so incredible that it actually alters time?

From the Gospel of Matthew…

At dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here, he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then quickly go and tell his disciples…”

No one knows exactly how big that earthquake was on that first Easter morning. Whether it was a 5.2 or 9.1, we have no idea. We don’t know how much mass of earth’s crust was moved on account of it. We don’t know how far away the quake was felt, or what damage occurred to the surrounding area. The only thing we know for sure is this: one rock did move. One rock was rolled away from in front of the tomb. And that movement of one rock, that rolling away of one stone from in front of the tomb that contained Jesus’ body, has affected the earth more than any other movement of rock and mass ever has, or ever will. That one rock, rolling away, defeated death, and has changed time completely and totally for you and for me. Not just by 1.36 microseconds. But for eternity. One rock moved that day, and because of it, time is shattered.

One of my favorite scenes in all of scripture takes place right at this moment, when we’re told that the angel who has rolled away the stone stops and sits on top of it, and from there he talks with the women. He’s sitting on the stone that up until just a few minutes earlier was trapping Christ in the grave. He’s sitting on the stone that signified to the world that evil had won, that death was victorious, that the darkness had triumphed. He’s sitting on top of that stone, and I imagine he is smiling and laughing with uncontrolled joy, for he knows what no one else on earth yet knows. That the stone has been rolled away. That Jesus lives. That evil, and death, and darkness have not won…they have lost. That the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The angel knows, as he sits on top of the stone, swinging his legs back in forth, mocking the power that death thought it had over Christ, he knows that time no longer holds us under it’s spell. That for us, those who will proclaim Jesus as our risen Lord and Savior, time means nothing, for like Christ, we too will be raised, and the gift of eternal life is ours.

The apostle Paul later writes, “death has been swallowed up in victory. Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

An earthquake in Chile, changed time. Each day here on earth is now a tiny fraction of a second shorter than it was. But for us, who gather here today in the name of Christ, it matters not whether our days grow longer or shorter, for time has lost all meaning for us. We are a people this day invited into eternity, into time without end. For the stone of death has been rolled away by the awesome, and immense, and majestic, and incomprehensible power of love. God’s love for you.

My friends, that quake on Easter morning, the quake that moved one stone from in front of Christ’s tomb, is a gift for you and for me. It shows that death will have no power over you. That in Christ you can live as a free person, free from the power of sin and death and time, and so live now, today, as if you have already gained the victory of eternal life that is offered to you in Jesus Christ.

This is the day that the Lord has made! Thanks be to God! Let us rejoice and be glad in it! Amen.

Everything Past and Everything Future

2009-12-23T13:55:00.002-05:00

As if to shame the mightiest human efforts and achievements, a child is placed at the center of history. A child, born of humans: a son, given by God. That is the mystery of the world's redemption. Everything past and everything future is encompassed here. The infinite mercy of almighty God comes to us, condescends to us in the form of a child, his son. That this child has been born for us, that this son has been given, that this human child, this son of God, belongs to me; that I know him, have him, love him, that I am his and he is mine - my very life now depends entirely on all these things. A child has our life in his hands.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 1940

Jacob Marley

2009-12-08T17:06:00.003-05:00

A number of years ago, while we were living in the suburbs of Chicago, my wife and I went to the Guthrie Theatre to see a production of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol". This classic story of the redemption of old Ebeneezer Scrooge had always been one of my favorite stories, and it had been a tradition of mine to read it on Christmas Eve. Having seen a few productions before back in New England, I was looking forward to both the play, and a fun night on the town.

The actor who played the part of Scrooge was a man by the name of Tom Mula. He did a phenomenal job that night and literally held me mesmerized at times. When the show was over, we walked through the lobby where I noticed a display stand of books and other holiday items for sale. There was one small book that for some reason grabbed my attention. I picked it up, read the title, and saw that the author was none other than Tom Mula, the actor I had just watched play the lead role of Scrooge. I bought it on the spot. The book, entitled "Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol" has become one of my all-time favorite stories, and I have given copies of it away to many of my friends over the years. Unfortunately it is no longer published, but is easy to find via amazon.com through used booksellers. If I had my way, it would be required reading for everyone as they enter into the holiday season.

My understanding is that the author got the idea for this book at a post-show dinner, when a little girl went up to him and asked a simple, but startling question: "Why did Marley help Scrooge in the first place?" Mula found himself fascinated by this question. "Why would Marley help Scrooge?" "What happened to Marley afterwards?" "Is there no redemption for Marley?" His book is an attempt to answer those questions by re-imagining Dicken's classic through the viewpoint of Marley. It is a wonderful and deeply profound journey that Mula creates for us, as we see why Marley intervenes, and what Marley discovers about life and love.

This is the season of gift giving. Why not give yourself a gift that will move you this holiday season, and for many years to come? Go and order yourself a copy of Tom Mula's "Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol". You will be so glad that you did!

photo by Michal Daniels

Classic!

2009-08-03T22:21:00.004-04:00

A week or so ago, as we made our way from the Black Hills of South Dakota to Yellowstone National Park in western Wyoming, we had one of those all time classic moments that we'll never forget.

For some silly reason, we've dragged along on this trip a shiny-metallic statue of a pointy-eared dog. I'm not sure why, other than the kids (and Ann) wanted to bring it with us and take pictures with it at some of the places we were visiting. We've remembered to bring it to many of our stops, and it has only suffered one major injury - a broken off ear which was quickly fixed with some super glue. Little did I know the role this little dog statue would play in our amusement.

We stopped off at Devil's Tower in Wyoming. Devil's Tower is America's first official National Monument, and is the inside cone of a long-ago volcano with the surrounding earth stripped away. It is probably most remembered as the backdrop to Steven Spielberg's classic film Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It is truly impressive, and is an important cultural and spiritual place for the Native American peoples that lived and still live in this area of the country.

In Native American culture, when visiting these important spiritual locations, prayer flags and prayer bundles are often left behind, tied to tree branches as offerings. Signs at Devil's Tower explain their significance to visitors and ask people to respectfully leave them alone. Having traveled in this area, and on other Indian Reservations before, I was familiar with them and explained them to my kids. They thought these were really neat and enjoyed pointing them out to me as we walked up to the base of the mountain.

After a picture of the kids (and the dog statue) with the Tower in the background, we went off to explore some of the boulder field that litters the base of the mountain. Ann, my wife sat down on a rock for a moment, and placed the dog statue next to her at the foot of a tree.

After a minute or two, a couple in their 50's came strolling by, and the woman noticed the dog by the foot of the tree. She pointed it out to her husband, and asked him if he thought it was an offering left by Indians. He said he was sure it was, they seriously discussed its importance and meaning, and then they both glanced around to see if anyone important was watching. The woman then went over to the statue, bent down to get her face next to it, and had her husband take a picture of herself and the dog statue. Ann was doing all she could to not burst out laughing, and after they wandered off, she picked up the statue, and met up with us further up the trail.

Our shiny dog statue is going to show up in someone else's photo album as an example of a spiritual offering! How classic!!!

RV Adventure

2009-07-23T23:35:00.003-04:00

I write this entry just a block away from glorious Wall Drug, just outside of the Badlands in South Dakota. We flew into Denver on Tuesday, picked up our 31' Class C RV, and then drove to Hill City, SD. Our first official day saw us visiting Mount Rushmore, Custer State Park, Wind Cave, and the Crazy Horse monument. Today we spent the day at the quaint but fun Mount Rushmore Water Slide Park, before driving here to Wall, SD. Tomorrow we hit the Badlands, and then head east to visit the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead in DeSmet, SD (the girls are thrilled). Then, back west to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons!!!

The highlight so far has to be the hundreds of bison we encountered in Custer State Park. They were so close we could have rolled down a window and touched them. The dozens of pronghorns, deer and prairie dogs have been a source of window gazing for the kids too. What a great start to our grand adventure!!!

Casual Jesus

2009-05-22T14:40:00.003-04:00

According to the London Telegraph website, a church in East Sussex, England has recently unveiled a new statue of Jesus, done by sculpter Marcus Cornish. The seven foot high bronze statue cost 35,000 euros, and is mounted onto the exterior wall of the Our Lady Immaculate and Saint Phillip Neri Catholic Church. Money to fund the project was given by a longtime church member who passed away a year ago.

The statue, entitled "Casual Jesus", but dubbed by the public "Jesus in Jeans," has caused quite a sensation, and has become not only an internet sensation, but has even made appearances on many of the late night TV shows here in the US (including a very funny spot on the Colbert Report). As you can see from the photo, it portrays Jesus wearing jeans, with a loose fitting shirt billowing in the wind, with hair and beard fashionably trimmed. And yet, a closer look reveals his arms and legs in an unmistakeable "on the cross" pattern. This is in many ways an updated, passion-free crucifix.

Father Buckley, pastor of the church said: "We wanted a figure of Christ not in suffering but dynamic and welcoming."

In many ways this statue is a microcosm of the challenge that faces the Church today. As people leave the Church in droves, and as many more give up on faith completely, how does the Church reach out in meaningful ways? How does the Church present Christ in ways that are genuine, meaningful, relevant...and yet true to the scriptural story? Does a "casual Jesus" become an outreach tool, or does it simply dilute the message of Christ? Where is the tipping point?

One thing is for sure: doing nothing is unacceptable. And yet, we'd better find that tipping point sooner rather than later.

Embracing Spring

2009-04-17T14:42:00.006-04:00

"We loiter in Winter while it is already Spring."

- Henry David Thoreau in Walden

Last Sunday we celebrated Easter. It is a glorious day in which we proclaim the resurrection of Christ, and the gift of life that he, through it, offers us. It truly is life from death; Spring out of Winter.

And yet for so many of us, we seem to linger, or in the words of Thoreau, "loiter" in Winter rather than accepting the Spring. How many of us hang on to our old selves (because we are comfortable in it?) rather than accepting the new, better creation that is ours to become?

Susan Boyle has become an overnight sensation. The video of her performance on "You've Got Talent Britain" is an internet classic. And yet she did not develop this gift of song overnight. She has had it for years. She just chose to hide it away, because of a self-image that wrongly convinced her she was worthless. She lingered in Winter, even though Spring was within her. To see her now, accepting the gift of the Spring, and sharing it with the world, is a most joyful thing to witness. May it encourage all of us to do the same.

The old has gone. The new has come. Spring is here. Put away your Winter coat and enjoy the sun.

Isaiah 53:4-6

2009-04-10T12:27:00.005-04:00

Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Gethsemane

2009-04-06T13:33:00.004-04:00

In a back corner of the Garden of Gethsemane, amongst the 2500+ year old olive trees that still bear fruit, you will find a small sculpture/relief embedded into an ancient stone wall. Both times I have been blessed to walk in that garden, the sculpture has grabbed my attention and mesmerized me.

What would I have done while Christ prayed? Would I have stayed awake and prayed for him? Or would I, like the disciples, have drifted off to sleep, and left him alone...foreshadowing the desertion to come.

Merciful God, grant me the strength to remain awake during this holy week at Christ's side. May I have the courage to journey with him to the cross. Amen.

Go to dark Gethsemane, all who feel the tempter's pow'r;

Your Redeemer's conflict see, watch with him one bitter hour.

Turn not from his griefs away - learn of Jesus Christ to pray.

Follow to the judgement hall, view the Lord of life arraigned.

O the wormwood and the gall! O the pangs his soul sustained!

Shun not suff'ring, shame, or loss - learn of him to bear the cross.

Calv'ry's mournful mountain climb; there, adoring at his feet,

Mark the miracle of time, God's own sacrifice complete.

"It is finished!" hear him cry - learn of Jesus Christ to die.

-James Montgomery, 1771-1854

Maple Syrup

2009-03-17T13:45:00.003-04:00

This past Saturday, on what was a beautiful Spring-like day, I found myself doing a bit of yard clean up while the kids played. I gathered branches, pine needles and dry leaves that littered the yard, and burned them in our outdoor fire pit that we use for campfires. After a while I moved over to a tree swing to give my youngest daugther some pushes. That's when I noticed a branch on one of the maple trees nearby that needed to be taken down. I went into the garage and grabbed my extending tree saw and cut it off. Almost immediately, sap started dripping out of the cut. I was shocked by just how much was coming out.

Now growing up in New England, I know about maple syrup. I've been to a Vermont sugar house and seen the steam vapors pouring out. I've seen the trees with their buckets and taps and tubing lines. But I guess I had no idea just how much sap comes out of a maple when the sap starts to run. With my kids' help, we grabbed some buckets from the sandbox, and started collecting sap. 24 hours later we had about 3 gallons full. On Monday morning, I started boiling it down.

I didn't really know how much syrup I'd get. I looked online and found out I needed to keep boiling it until the water content was mostly gone, and the resulting "syrup" reached 7 degrees above the boiling point of water. It took a while, and I even added more sap that had gathered throughout the day, but by 9:00pm last night, that 7 degrees above the boiling temperature of water was reached, and I had 2 cups of (Grade A?) pure maple syrup. How fun to see the kids enjoying it this morning on their french toast before school. I'm hooked. And next Spring I'm going to really tap the 4 old maple trees and see how much I can make.

I also have felt a connection to Lent through this process, as I've reflected on how much of me needs to be boiled off before I can get down to a more pure, undiluted faith. How much refinement does my faithwalk need, and how much Grade A is there really within me?

Refinement is never easy, but the end result is always sweet.

Lenten Math

2009-03-04T15:15:00.004-05:00

Most people I know approach Lent with a sense of foreboding. Often, thoughts are consumed by what must be given up (usually something related to sweet, yummy food), or what symbolic sacrifice must be made. While giving up something for Lent can be very helpful in our faith walk, I have found that instead of subtracting something from my life for Lent, I am better served in my journey of faith during Lent, by adding something.

For me over the years that has meant praying the Daily Office (well...I must admit only some of the hours). Or lectio divina. Or The Jesus Prayer. Or silence. I've added reading daily scriptures, or used a book like Richard Foster's Devotional Classics. A year or two ago I started using www.sacredspace.ie and it became a daily part of my yearlong faith walk with Christ, and continues to be so to this day. In each case, each addition that I added to my life during Lent prepared me in powerful ways for Holy Week to come, and impacted my faithwalk deeply for the longhaul. And isn't that the point?

Math was always one of my better subjects in school, and even as a kid I found addition to come more naturally than subtraction. When it come to my own faith, and the season of Lent, addition still seems to better suit me.

Maybe it will you too.

Bull

2009-02-18T13:19:00.004-05:00

Bull.

That's all I could think as I watched clips of A-Rod's press conference yesterday, as he tried to diffuse the steroids crisis that has enveloped him over the past week.

Bull.

Although there were moments when he seemed to be genuine and sincere, the vast majority of his statements, both those prepared ahead of time and those in response to questions, just seemed like a bunch of bull. An attempt to obfuscate the truth. Half-truths and purposeful non-answers. Although none of the reporters seemed fooled, I wonder what A-Rod and his handlers think today. Did they pull the wool over our eyes? Will it all go away now? Did his bull work?

This Sunday's lectionary text includes a reading from Psalm 50 in which God lays out his credentials as our accuser; his credibility to be our judge. We are reminded that this is in fact God we're dealing with here, not someone else. And if we were to read a bit further, into verse 9, we find the wonderful phrase (from the RSV translation) direct from the mouth of God, "I will accept no bull from your house...".

What a perfect lead into the journey of Lent, which begins this upcoming Wednesday, Ash Wednesday. Most of us actually think we can pull one over on God. As if he is just a friend, or spouse, or co-worker that we can hide our sins from. We actually think we can give God a bunch of bull and get away with it.

But this is God we're talking about here. THE God. He knows. He sees. He examines. He judges.

As we approach Lent, we need to forget the bull, for it doesn't work any better for us before God, than it does for A-Rod before the reporters. We need to forget the bull, and be real. We need to confess our sin and allow the light of God into the dark places of our lives. For then, healing can begin. Grace can fill the voids. Love and life can find its rightful home in our hearts.

Yes, I know the text from Psalm 50 is referring to a real, live (animal) bull offering/sacrifice. But I love the turn of the phrase. And the reality is the same. God doesn't want our bull. He wants our honesty and our humility. Not so he can gloat. So that he can save.

May Lent be a powerful 40 days of liberation from the bull that so often characterizes our lives and faith.

What if...

2009-02-13T11:48:00.003-05:00

This video clip, sent by a friend, asks us to ponder what the coffee giant Starbucks would be like if they marketed themselves like a church.

Although it is humorous, there are some real nuggets here for the church to consider.

#44

2009-01-21T13:56:00.002-05:00

So, what does #43 say to #44 as he's walking out the door?

What does the man who has held the most powerful position in the world for the last 8 years say to the man who now sits behind his desk, uses his phone, makes the decisions?

Does the envelope contain heartfelt words of prayer and well wishes?

Does the envelope contain some amazing secret that only the president himself gets to know?

Does the envelope contain partisan words of political mumbo-jumbo, and admonitions about what really lies ahead as he tries to "change" the way things have been done?

Does the envelope contain a key to the desk?

Ever since I saw the picture of the envelope left for President Obama by President Bush, with a simple "From #43 to #44" on the front, I've been intrigued. What does it say inside? I'm told that President Obama began his official day today with 10 minutes alone in the Oval Office with that envelope. 10 minutes before the weight of the world comes crashing down. With an envelope.

Aren't you curious too?

Looking Back...Looking Forward

2009-01-14T14:31:00.004-05:00

“O our God… we are powerless against this great multitude that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”
-II Chronicles 20:12

“Thus says the Lord to you: ‘Do not fear or be dismayed at this great multitude;
for the battle is not yours but God’s.’”
-II Chronicles 20:15b

The beginning of the year 2008 was one filled with promise and hope. We celebrated the wonderful and profound transitional interim ministry of the Rev. Judith McCullough who concluded her time with us in February, and looked forward to a year that would include both the calling of a new Pastor, and the celebration of the church’s 125th anniversary. After much prayer and discussion, the congregation adopted a new Co-Pastor model of ministry, and we rejoiced as God led the Rev. Whitney Hall to accept a Call to Ministry here in our midst. Pastor Whitney jumped right into things, and thanks to the dedicated efforts of many volunteers, had a new parsonage right next door to the church to live in. As we prepared to enter into the summer months, the mood was one of real excitement and thanksgiving.

Little did any of us know just how quickly that mood would change. Throughout the summer months, the news reports showed a national and worldwide economy in a tailspin. Stocks tumbled. The housing market crashed. Jobs became scarce, and then layoffs began in earnest. By the time we approached our 125th anniversary in November, it was clear our country was facing the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression of the 1930’s. And still, things would grow worse. By the year-end, many in our congregation would be without employment. Retirement nest eggs would be, at best, reduced in half, at worst, gone. Mortgage foreclosure became reality for some. The promise and hope of early 2008 was replaced with fear and despair.

If that wasn’t difficult enough, many in our church family suffered physically this year, and we said goodbye to many longtime friends who passed away. The grief that accompanies their departure from our midst is real. They are missed daily. Those who continue their battles with health issues are never far from our hearts and prayers.

2008 is a year we will not soon forget.

I have often times throughout this past year found myself reading through the 20th chapter of the book of Chronicles. The people of God, and their king, Jehoshaphat, are overwhelmed with fear and grief. For all of their enemies have joined forces, and have now hemmed them in, ready for the final assault. There is no escape. There is no way out. They are overwhelmed by the forces lined up against them. And yet, the words… "We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

During this deep and dark time in our world, it is clear that all we can do is to keep our eyes on God. Like Jehoshaphat, like Peter when he leaves the comfort and safety of the boat to join Jesus out on the waters of the Sea of Galilee, when we are surrounded by the turmoil and raging tempests of this world, we are called to keep our focus on God, and trust with all of our being that he will fight the battle for us, that he will keep us afloat on the waves, that he will provide for our needs. “Do not fear or be dismayed…for the battle is not yours, but God’s.”

The words of the Rev. Dr. Jay Phelan, President of North Park Theological Seminary, and our guest speaker for our 125th anniversary celebration weekend, echo in my mind through these difficult days. Our calling as followers of Christ is to live each day in service to Him, being his hands and feet here on earth. And as we do so, he cares for us. He provides for our needs. He gives more abundantly than we can know or imagine. We leave the paralysis of worry and fear, for the freedom and joy of trusting in God.

Many experts tell us that 2009 may be worse than 2008. In economic terms, we may not have hit the bottom of the Laffer Curve quite yet. It may take 3-5 years before we see any sort of a sustained rebound. And yet this I know and believe: Our God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow! Our God does not change. He has provided, he provides, he will provide. For 125 years, we have seen the faithfulness of God in this place, through times of plenty and times of want, through war and through peace. Our God has never left us, and will never leave us. And so, in spite of what the experts say, I look forward to 2009 with a sense of promise and hope, that we will once again experience the faithfulness of God in this place. And in response, may we faithfully serve him with all that we have and all that we are, like those who have come before us.

For the gift of serving in this place, and the blessings of serving alongside such gracious and gifted people, I am deeply grateful to God.

And for the blessing of my wife and family, who are the daily proof to me of God’s grace, I humbly praise God from whom all blessing flow.

Great is thy faithfulness! Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!

Celebrating 125 Years of God's Faithfulness

2008-11-14T16:47:00.002-05:00

Like most good stories, ours too has a prologue…a beginning point before the actual story begins. A bit of history that leads up to the real story. For us, our prologue began on an evening in 1871, at the home of a Mr. Andrew Erickson of North Easton.
On this particular night, the exact date seems to be unknown, an invitation was extended by Mr. Erickson to the Rev. J. G. Princell, a traveling preacher who years later would become nationally known, but at this point just happened to be traveling through and preaching in Campello, which is today's south side of Brockton. Rev. Princell, always looking for an eager crowd to preach to, accepted the invitation and arrived at Mr. Erickson's home. Unfortunately, he arrived only to find that a rather smallish crowd had come out to hear him preach. Details are a bit sketchy, but it seems that there was a total of either 4 or 5 people, in addition to Rev. Princell. Only 4 or 5 people, no more. But that's our prologue. That's where our story starts. That's the seed that 13 years later would begin to flower into this congregation, as we know it today.

For 13 years later, that group of 4 or 5 had turned into a group of 39, and on December 20, 1883, this congregation was officially born. Meeting at the home of a Mr. John Rohdin of 31 Seaver Street, 39 charter members of the, imagine this name on our church sign out front, "Swedish Christian Evangelical Ebed-Melek Church of North Easton" was officially established. They were definitely Swedish. They were definitely Christian and Evangelical, which really meant protestant back then. The Ebed-Melek is actually a name from the Old Testament book of Jeremiah, and is the name of a man who saved Jeremiah from certain death, even though Ebed-Melek himself was not a Hebrew. Ebed-Melek becomes the example of one who helps those in need and seeks justice, which these Swedes definitely were about. And now, after meeting and coming up with a set of bylaws (imagine that) and electing a board of officers (imagine that), they were definitely a church. It took 13 years to get to that point, to get to the beginning of Chapter 1 back in 1883. Just think how easy it would have been for Chapter 1 to never even have gotten written.

There were only 4 or 5 people at that first evening with the traveling preacher. There's no way that they could have dreamed of a church of their own with 39 people, but they were faithful people. They were committed people and though it took 13 years, their faithfulness and their commitment, in a very real way has allowed us to be here today in this place. Chapter 1 was just getting started though. My guess is that Mr. Rohdin of 31 Seaver Street was very excited to be a part of this new church, but he wasn't too keen on his house becoming the church every week. So, a permanent home for the congregation was desperately needed.

The elected Board of the church began to look around, and finally they were approached by a Mr. Swain, here in town, who offered to sell the building on Main Street that ultimately would serve as the church's home until this present building was built in 1984…in other words for the first 100 years of our congregation's life. The problem, however, was that Mr. Swain was not exactly offering a bargain. The asking price for the property was $1400; remember this is 1883, which was clearly way out of the realm of possibility for this small group of 39 individuals, which in reality represented only a few families. This is coming directly from a wonderful article written about the history of our congregation now, "This appeared to be an insurmountable barrier, but after much discussion and prayer, in faith the group decided to make the purchase of the building."

That is going to be a repeating refrain for the life of this congregation, and the Chapters of our story over the years. "It appeared to be an insurmountable barrier, but after much discussion and prayer, in faith the group decided…" to move forward. $1400 was a huge sum of money for these Swedish immigrants, but in faith they moved forward.

Just as it must have seemed that only 4 people to start a church was an insurmountable barrier, in faith they moved forward. And in the case of that first building, as in almost every other case we can find in the chapters of our story, their faithfulness and commitment to God was blessed. Hearing of the young church's need, and their faithful commitment to God to move forward in ministry, Mr. Ames, one of our town's founding fathers, graciously donated half of the cost of the purchase. $700…imagine what those folks must have felt when they heard that news, after they stepped out in faith to move forward, and half of the money was provided. On January 12, 1884, the congregation raised the other half, and the building was purchased. That's quite an opening chapter. After that, the chapters really start to roll, but with that repeating refrain, of "in faith, moving forward", in spite of what seemed like insurmountable barriers.

Chapter 2 begins with the hiring of the first pastor, a Rev. Axel Mellander, and the official joining with the "Swedish Evangelical Mission Covenant Church of America", the former name of our present denomination. Chapter 3, in 1885 saw the formation of our first Sunday school, with a reported attendance of 25 students. I imagine there were plenty of concerns about the cost of running such a program. Chapter 4 saw the leaving of Rev. Mellander, and the calling of Rev. Emil Holmblad, who is actually buried with many of his family members in the cemetery directly behind the Unity Church here in town. I visited his grave marker and noticed a plaque describing his dedicated service to our congregation. During his tenure the congregation affiliated with the Congregational Home Missions Society of Massachusetts, one of the primary reasons being that by doing so the church received a stipend of a much needed $25 a month to help defray expenses.

The chapters following the departure of Rev. Holmblad were extremely difficult. The church had a very tough time finding a pastor. In reality, they couldn't. Several calls were extended but they all were refused. Whether it was because the congregation was still small, or because the budget was too tight, or from some other dynamic that we're unaware of…we don't know. But the church was up against another "seemingly insurmountable barrier", one which for many churches of that day would have resulted in the closing of the doors and a ceasing to exist, …but, again they, "in faith, moved forward". Since they couldn’t find a new pastor, they in faith decided to get their old pastor back, even though he was already established at another congregation. Somehow, some way, they convinced Rev. Holmblad to return to the congregation he had moved on from. That doesn’t happen often, I assure you. But in faith, they moved forward. And the ministries began to flourish.

At around chapter 8 the congregation decided it was time for a choir. "In faith, moving forward" a choir was added to the worship service, under the guidance of the newly established position of choir director. By the time we get to Chapter 20, the congregation had grown to 72 people, and the building was being remodeled at the unimaginable cost of $4000. "In faith, they moved forward." At around Chapter 27 a parsonage was built for the pastor. Two chapters later they even installed electricity. "In faith, they moved forward".

At Chapter 42, one of the most "insurmountable barriers" the church could have ever imagined was taken on. From its first days as a congregation, and even back in the prologue, only the Swedish language was spoken at worship services and at church meetings. Clearly at this point in time, which is 1925 if you're trying to count along, it had become obvious that this was an issue that would have to be addressed if the church was to stay faithful to its mission in the world. Having done a paper in Seminary that dealt with the challenge that this was for Covenant churches back then, I am very familiar with how contentious and frightening this was for our congregation, for any Covenant congregation whose history dates back so far. Some scholars have likened the tension of switching languages to the tension that exists today in some congregations when it comes to introducing multimedia or musical styles into the church. That fits to a certain extent, but not to the depths of this decision.

The decision to make the switch from Swedish to English language worship was as deep of a fracture with the past as this church could make. No longer would this congregation simply be a Swedish church for Swedes. The doors would be opened to all. And with them would come their non-Swedish traditions, and their non-Swedish outlooks on life, and faith and church. They might not even like lutefisk. This was a big deal. There are many former Covenant churches that died off rather than to make the decision to surrender their Swedish worship.

There's no way for me to emphasize that enough. Many, many Covenant churches simply faded away and closed down over the years because they were unwilling to make this transition. But here, as they had in the past, so they did again. "This appeared to be an insurmountable barrier, but after much discussion and prayer, in faith the group decided…" to move forward. And thanks to that decision, many of us who are a part of this congregation, and this denomination, are here today. I can assure you that without that decision, you wouldn’t have a Lithuanian for your pastor, one who does not like lutefisk. "In faith, they moved forward."

I want to make a brief aside at this point. I can promise you that the decision to switch from Swedish to English was not a unanimous one. There were some who voted against it. There were even some who left the church because of it. Just like when they first bought the building back in Chapter 1. Not everyone was for it. When the pastors were called. When the parsonage was built. When electricity was installed. When remodeling occurred. There were some, who after prayer and discussion voted "no". At every major chapter in the life of this congregation, there have been some who have voted "no".

I know when I was called to become pastor a little over 7 years ago now, that a couple of folks voted "no". It happens for every major decision that a church must make. What strikes me today is not that those "no voters" were wrong, or that their outlook was incorrect, or that they weren't in step with the rest of the congregation. What strikes me is that for most of them, almost all of them, even though they did vote "no", they remained a part of the congregation. They remained committed to the ministry of the church. They continued to be faithful stewards, and for many, they increased their stewardship as the ministries flourished. There are very few examples of folks who took their ball and went home when the vote went against them. To me, that is maybe the most amazing example of "in faith, moving forward" that there is. When you remain faithful, even when the direction is not exactly the one you would choose it to be. Back to our story.

The switch to English didn’t happen over night…remember it was a contentious debate, and these were Swedes and New Englanders to boot we’re talking about here. It was decided that a special English-language service would be held once a month, and gradually over time a full switch would be made. It took all the way to Chapter 60, some 18 years later, before that switch was finally made, and the official minutes of the church were recorded in English and the services in almost all English. It took until the close of World War II for that to happen. To mark the switch, the church was finally renamed the "Covenant Congregational Church" which it remains today. From 4 Swedes listening to a traveling preacher one night to an English-speaking church firmly rooted and established in this town in just 60 years. At any point along the way, the whole thing could have collapsed or simply turned in on itself and faded away. But at every turn, the people of faith, "in faith, moved forward" even in the face of seemingly insurmountable barriers. And God blessed them.

The chapters that follow are rich and full. The sponsoring of a refugee family fleeing communism in Hungary in 1957, and their joyful arrival later that spring. Imagine what those first 4 would have thought…a refugee Hungarian family joining their Swedish fellowship. In 1958, Chapter 75, due to the blessings of an increased Sunday School attendance, the church once again, "in faith, moved forward" and took on the challenge of raising $60,000 to purchase and renovate the adjacent building. Again I'm reading directly from this wonderful article: "The Church asked for sacrificial gifts, and members and friends responded to the glory of God." The President of the denomination came and dedicated the new facility.

So many wonderful pastors through these chapters of our church's life. And so many wonderful members. Mrs. Godfrey Anderson who was the church organist for 64 years. Amazing. We haven’t even touched on our more present history; a project is underway to accomplish that very thing. The chapters of that decision to build this building are fascinating. The pain of losing a beloved pastor to a tragic accident in the midst of building of this place. The calling of Pastor Mark Pattie to help heal some wounds from the late '80's and early '90's, and the jumpstart that provided to move the ministry forward again. The extension of my call, even though not one person here had any idea where the money for my position was going to come from, other than a miracle from God. So many chapters. One common theme. "In faith, they moved forward" despite what seemed at times to be insurmountable barriers, or even at times in ways in which not everyone initially agreed. "In faith, they moved forward." And God blessed their ministry.
We face barriers in our ministry today, but they are good barriers to face. We are outgrowing this space on just about every level. We're outgrowing our present budget. We're beginning to see needs for new or reorganized staffing configurations. There are those in the community who need to be reached, and a different language of worship might be the way to reach them. There are barriers. We won't all agree on the best way to overcome them.

But if the last 125 chapters and the prologue of our story have taught us anything, it is that with God, none of these barriers are insurmountable. For if "in faith, we move forward", he will bless our ministry. Someday, someone from this congregation will gather up the history of chapter 125. And my prayer today is that when they do, they will shake their heads in amazement at the goodness of God, and say "we are here today, because in faith, they moved forward".

Wordle

2008-10-10T11:40:00.006-04:00

This online program is really cool...it analyzes words in documents and turns them into an image, with high frequency words depicted in larger font. Here's what my blog looks like in wordle...

To try it yourself with your own website or documents, go to www.wordle.net

In God We Trust

2008-10-03T10:31:00.003-04:00

I recently spoke with a older-aged friend who told me that over the last two weeks, with the financial crisis that has hit Wall Street and the stock market, his portfolio has lost close to $250,000. A quarter of a million dollars gone in a span of 2 weeks.

Believe it or not, he said it with a smile. Rather than complaining about the market or economic conditions, this clear-headed man realizes how blessed he and his family is compared to many who are truly struggling economically. "I had it to lose", he said. "I am beyond blessed."

In response, I then brought up the thought that these trying times will probably end up hurting churches as the year wraps up. Many people catch up on their giving and pledges at the end of the year, and with less in their accounts and the fear that often accompanies that, they may hold onto "their money" rather than give it back to God. I know quite a few churches that were already heading into this Fall tens of thousands of dollars behind budget after the summer. And with what is taking place financially now across our country and world, how much deeper will those deficits grow? I then asked him if this loss he personally has felt over the last 2 weeks will affect his giving.

"Are you kidding," he said. "This is all the more reason to give back to God. God is the only one I can trust with my money. That investment never fails!"

It is interesting that our money here in the US has engraved right on it the words "In God We Trust". Today, maybe more than any other time since The Great Depression, those words ring true on a financial level. Where can I invest the money and resources I have in my possession so that they will be used well and bring a good return? We put it into the hands of Him who is always faithful and never fails. In God we trust.

Spare Parts

2008-09-09T10:54:00.002-04:00

This Sunday morning, Rally Sunday for us, when everyone returned from their summer vacations and church activities returned to full swing, I broke out the power tools. Well, actually just one power tool...a circular saw. But since this was the first time I used a power tool during a sermon, it seemed like a big deal at the time. Preaching on Paul's image of the church as the Body of Christ, with each of us having an important part to play in the overall health of the whole body, I took the saw to a four-legged wooden stool to show that if one leg is removed, or if one wooden support was compromised, the integrity of the whole stool was compromised. I was hopeful that the image of the saw and the stool would stick with people, and that they would see the need for doing their part for the good of the whole.

Towards the end of my sermon I used a catch phrase that I didn't think much of, and it really just came out off the cuff. But over the last 2 days I have had numerous emails and phone calls from folks saying how much that phrase hit home with them, and has spurred them on to find their place in the Body of Christ. I simply said that "in the church, there are no spare parts." God equips each of us, and places each of us, to be a vital and integral part of the whole.

How many times over the years do people often say "I'll help if they really need me", or "Let me know if you get in a pinch". That's not how it works in the church. We each have a part to do now, that is vital to the intergity and health of the overall body. If one part fails to do its part, or if one part holds back and waits, the whole is weakened. There truly are no spare parts in the Body of Christ.

As an owner of an antique car (1971 VW Super Beetle convertible - photo above), I know about spare parts. They sit on the shelf "just in case" the day arrives when you need them. As a member of the body of Christ, specifcally equipped by God for a specific purpose, and placed in a specific place at a specific time, none of us are called to sit on the shelf until "just in case" time. We are called to do our part, and to do it today. And when we do, we together, are indeed the Body of Christ, to the glory of God!

Tiger

2008-08-29T13:28:00.003-04:00

As a fundraiser for our Youth Ministries, I volunteered yesterday over at the Deutsche Bank PGA Tour event at the TPC Boston (which is actually in Norton, MA). I spent a boring day selling food to just a few people, as it was simply a practice round day, and the crowds were really light. After my shift ended I wandered around the course for a while watching some of the pros practice. Ernie Els was most impressive.

But what struck me most was that the main topic of people's conversations was not who was playing, but who wasn't playing. Tiger Woods, out for a while following surgery, is not playing, and would not be in attendance, even though he is the official player-sponsor of the tournament. Had he been there practicing, the crowd would have been 10 times bigger.

Someone asked me once if there was something besides his golf ability that makes Tiger so appealing to golf fans, and non-golf fans. He seems to transcend the sport. My response was that he is one of those individuals who just seems to drip charisma, and displayes such a sheer joy for the game, that he commands your attention and your admiration. The video below, for me, shows that very attribute of Tiger to perfection. Watch his sheer joy at the end of the video. There is no way that he is "acting". Maybe it took him 200 shots to pull this off, but his reaction is priceless, and you can't help but smile.

Just imagine if we as Christians, could display half as much joy and enthusiasm for serving Christ...what a witness that would be!

Vacation

2008-08-20T12:26:00.002-04:00

I've just returned from what was supposed to have been a three-week vacation. I've never taken a vacation that long before in ministry, and I admit that I had a little bit of apprehension as I approached it. I wasn't worried that the church couldn't survive without me, or that my new colleague wasn't up to the challenge of handling everything in my absence...I was more unsure about how I would feel letting go of everything for that long. In actuality, the vacation was pared down a bit (on the front end) due to some deaths and subsequent funerals here at church, but all in all, it was still a sizable chunk of time away. And it was a good reminder to me of the importance of time off, and time away from the everyday demands of ministry. Rest and renewal truly are integral parts of a healthy convergent lifestyle.

Now that I'm back, and trying to get my feet under me again, I've done some reflecting on vacations. A few things I've come to conclusions on:

-Vacations, especially with 4 young children, are work, and physically exhausting.

-Traveling 1000 miles each way in a minivan with 4 young children is exhausting, no matter how many toys, technological gadgets or snacks you have on hand.

-In spite of the above two items, I love spending time with my kids, and feel so blessed to be their father.

-It takes a good week or so before I mentally can separate myself from the things and people "on my plate" that are left behind.

-Every family vacation should immediately be followed up with another husband-and-wife-only vacation.

Next summer is my sabbatical summer, which if all goes according to plan, will be three months in length, and have a specific emphasis on "Convergence: The Intersection of Life, Faith & Ministry". As I spend the next few weeks finishing up grant proposals for the sabbatical, the freshness of this past vacation time is providing good insights on what will truly refresh, renew, and revision.

Emmaus

2008-07-11T13:41:00.003-04:00

This past week I began a new journey. On Tuesday, my colleague and co-pastor here at church and I, went to meet with the retired pastor who has agreed to serve as our mentor/guide, as we begin our ministry team relationship. I was able to secure a grant through our denomination to cover many of the related expenses of this, and it was with real excitement that we drove down to meet with her. She will serve as a spiritual director of sorts, helping us to pray and keep our eyes on Christ. She will ask us the right questions and prod us with the right comments, to ensure that we are doing ministry together in practical ways that make sense and are efficient. And she will challenge us to continue to push forward and move on, as we seek to follow God's will in this local congregation, in our denomination, and in our world.

The idea of mentor/guide is one that has always been deeply intriguing to me. Having someone who will commit to walk alongside you, reveal their understandings and experiences, and yet listen and repect your vision and interpretations, all the while doing so in a way designed to help you move further along, is a concept that fits so perfectly in our faith context. It's probably why Barnabas is my favorite character in the scriptures. The role he plays in the life and ministry of Paul is so crucial to Paul's own development. A mentor/guide must be confident, and yet humble enough to put the "other" first. A mentor hopes and prays that the one he/she mentors will do greater things, and be greater than the mentor themself. I have always hoped that as I grew older, I too could play the role of Barnabas to others. That continues to be my own personal prayer.

As the disciples walked the road to Emmaus in Luke 24 following Christ's death and resurrection, they were joined alongside by one who walked with them, and opened their eyes. As they walked, they saw Christ. I am truly thankful for this new companion/mentor/guide who has come alongside me (us), and will help to open my (our) eyes, and will walk with me (us). For as we walk, I know that I too, will see Christ.

Who walks alongside you?

Who can you walk alongside of?

Compliments

2008-06-23T15:15:00.003-04:00

Sometimes as a preacher and pastor, I get compliments that I'm not sure what to do with. Usually I just say "thank you", and let it go. But sometimes, the compliments go deeper than usual, which often leads to conversations. I like those.

On Sunday, after preaching on a text from Galatians 4 that is not included in the Revised Common Lectionary, I got quite a few compliments. The one that stuck in my mind as I reflected on the day was the person who said, "Your sermon was very educational today." Typically, I said "thank you", but as I thought about it later in the day, I wondered if it truly was a compliment, or a backhanded way of saying "that was over my head, and a sermon shouldn't require a PhD".

Over the years I've gotten a few compliments on my preaching (and a few complaints) that have caused me some soul searching. Once, at my first church in Illinois, the Associate Superintendent of our conference was visiting with his wife. After the service, she approached me, shook my hand, and said "that was like water to a drowning man." It wasn't until 2 days later that I realized that's not such a good thing. Then there was the time when a parishioner told me that he enjoyed when I preached, as I "didn't say too much." Ouch.

All this got me thinking about what was the best compliment about my preaching that I've ever received. Interestingly, it was given to me by someone trying not to compliment me. A former parishioner of a church I served met with me to talk about why he was leaving our church. As we talked, he said that one of the issues he had with my preaching was that I preached "too much about grace, and didn't point enough fingers at the sins and sinners." He wanted more focus on sin, and less on salvation. More focus on retribution, and less on forgiveness. I was too focused on God's free gift of grace in Jesus Christ.

It wasn't intended to be, but I'm pretty sure that was the best compliment I've ever received when it comes to my preaching.

Maybe the best compliments are always that way.

Stepping Out

2008-06-06T12:04:00.003-04:00

Often times I wish the biblical narrative would give just a bit more. It's hard to imagine that after Jesus did some of the things that he did, that the disciples just dropped it. They must have talked about it for hours and days afterwards, either behind Jesus' back, or at times peppering him with further questions. It would be great to know what was said and how it was said.

My guess is that once Peter gets back into the boat after "failing" to walk on the water to Jesus (just for the record, he doesn't fail...he actually does walk on the water, but starts to sink down into the waves once he takes his eyes off of Christ), that there were some serious conversations taking place. A few choice words were probably spoken under the breath..."who does he think he is?"..."Peter's always showing off"..."what a fool".

And knowing Jesus, I can't imagine he let them off the hook that easily. At some point, while they mock and chastise Peter publicly or privately, Jesus must have said to them all, "Yes, but at least he got out of the boat."

That same Peter, when he later sees the resurrected Jesus on the shores of the sea, is so filled with joy, that he again leaps out of the boat (this time naked) regardless of what happens or what it looks like, so that he can be with his savior. They might have laughed or even mocked Peter for sinking once, or swimming naked, but he got out of the boat to follow Christ. He got out of the boat.

We all have our metaphorical boats that protect us from following Christ. Sometimes we even have people in there with us, whose comments and criticisms help us to stay safe inside. But the reality is that Jesus' call to each one of us is simple: "Follow me". And that often means getting out of the boat, even if we get wet in the process.

Beauty

2008-05-16T16:26:00.008-04:00

In his wonderful and thought-provoking book, A River Runs Through It, author Norman Maclean wrestles with some of the fundamental questions of human life...who and what are we?...how do we love those around us?...what, ultimately, do those around us really need from us? Since the first time I read this book, I was captivated by the questions inherent in his story, and the discovery of answers along the journey.

For me, one of the more poignant and personally challenging moments in the book comes after his troubled brother Paul's death. His murder has been a painful one for the family, especially Norman's father, who often asks Norman for more information about what happened. Finally breaking after these repeated questions with no answers to give, Norman blurts out in frustration, "If you push me far enough, the only thing I really know is that he was a good fisherman." His father, a Christian pastor, pauses and replies, "You know more than that. You know he was beautiful."

We call many things in this world beautiful, and rightfully so. But to know in our hearts that each of us is truly beautiful at our most core level as God's creation is a defining, and shattering thought. Imagine how different our interpersonal relationships would be if we always started from a point of recognizing the other as "beautiful". Imagine how different our world would be if instead of labels and stereotypes, we all began from the standpoint that the other is beautiful at the most fundamental core of existence.

As one who has a brother who I do not understand, I am often at a loss to describe him to people. Like Norman Maclean, my journey has led to me to the place where I now recognize that my brother is beautiful, first and foremost. And I am now understanding just how different a light that knowledge brings to our relationship, and how I can possibly move forward in it.

"You know more than that. You know he is beautiful." At times, these seem to be the very words of God to me in response to my prayers for understanding of those I do not understand.

Holocaust Remembrance Day

2008-05-02T10:05:00.006-04:00

Yesterday, May 1st, was the date of the annual Holocaust Remembrance Day. It is an important date for me that leads me into deep reflection on all I have learned and read and heard and seen. It also makes me recall one event in particular.

I will never forget my personal encounter with a Holocaust survivor one winter day in Chicago. The elderly woman was in front of me in the grocery store, and I offered to carry a bag for her. When she passed it to me I noticed the tattoo on her arm. She must have seen me staring at it, for she began to tell me her story. Almost all of her family was killed. She barely survived. But what was most painful to me was the look on her face when I told her that I was in seminary to be a pastor. She looked as if she was going to say something, but simply grabbed her bag and walked away. It was from that moment that I began to study the roots of Anti-Semitism found in the Church, and committed myself to educating others about the Holocaust and Anti-Semitism.

May I each and everyday "Never Forget".

Team Hoyt

2008-04-22T12:16:00.005-04:00

I saw them for just a split second on the TV yesterday. The Boston Marathon was beginning (a few minutes late) with the wheel chair racers. These elite athletes were lined up in their amazingly futuristic-looking racing chairs, ready to begin the marathon with that initial downhill stretch from Hopkinton (they would pay for that later at the famous Heart Break Hill stretch). When the gun sounded and they rocketed off the starting line, I got a quick glimpse of them. There they were...father and son...Team Hoyt. Together.

Team Hoyt consists of Dick Hoyt (the father) and Rick Hoyt (the son). Due to complications at birth, Rick is confined to a wheel chair and communicates through a specially designed computer system. As a teen, he used that computer to tell his Dad that he wanted to compete in an upcoming road race. Dick, who was not a runner at the time, just couldn't say no to his son, so he became one. And since that first race, Team Hoyt has run marathons, done triathalons (Rick uses an inflatable boat for the water stretch and has a special front-mounted seat on a custom built bike), and even trekked 3,700 miles across the United States. Dick runs behind the wheel chair, pushing Rick. But do not be fooled. They both compete. It has been said that Dick is the body and Rick is the heart. Neither could compete without the other. Neither would compete without the other. They are truly Team Hoyt.

Over the last couple of weeks here at church we have been reflecting on the passage of scripture found in Hebrews 12, which reminds us that we run this race of faith, not alone, but with a "great cloud of witnesses" encouraging and spurring us forward. The Church is our Team. We do not run alone. So what a great joy it was this past Sunday to spend time in prayer for a woman from our church who ran the marathon yesterday as a part of the Dana Farber Cancer Research Patient Partner Team. She ran on behalf of her friend and student, 10 year old Lexie, who has a brain tumor. Lexie was with us on Sunday too, and we prayed for her as well. There we were, the Church, acting as a "great cloud of witnesses", praying for and encouraging one of our own, as she prepared to run for another, and praying for a new friend, whose example of faith inspired us all.

The body and the heart, supported by the Church. Together. A team. It was a beautiful thing.

Integrity

2008-03-31T09:46:00.005-04:00

Over the last couple of weeks, I've been thinking a lot about integrity. Specifically, I've been thinking about how the lack of personal integrity can have such a damaging effect on community.

Back in the early 1990's when I was just starting out in ministry, a good friend and long-time pastor gave me some advice that has helped to guide me throughout the years more than any other I've gotten. He said, "In the end, it won't matter if you were a great preacher, or a super administrator, or an excellent teacher, or an amazing leader. What will matter is if you were faithful, and if you had integrity." Now I readily admit that I often selfishly want to be a great preacher (or at least thought of as one), and that I often selfishly want to be a super administrator (or at least seen as one), and that I often selfishly want to be an excellent teacher (or at least respected as one), and that I often selfishly want to be an amazing leader (or at least considered to be one). But that advice from a trusted mentor rings in my head whenever that selfishness gets the better of me..."faithfulness and integrity".

Although there are often 3 main definitions given for the word integrity (from "strict adherence to a moral or ethical code", to "the state of being unimpaired", to "completeness"), to me personally, integrity simply means being genuine. If I proclaim with my mouth, then my actions need to proclaim the same message. What I preach from the pulpit needs to be lived out in my daily walk. There can be no seperation between what I say I'm about, and what I really am about. I need to be genuine. To me that's integrity. Am I pefect at that? Do I always get it right? Of course not. But is it a priority for me? Absolutely.

Over these last couple of weeks, a community that I am a part of has suffered greatly from what I believe to be a lack of integrity in one of its members. It has been a reminder to me of just how important integrity is, and just how damaging the lack of it can be to others, especially when we covenant together to be in community; when we commit to "life together". Although the damage is deep and painful, it has been a good reminder to me to look into the mirror and take stock of my life. Am I being faithful? Am I being genuine? Is there integrity?

Jerusalem

2008-03-18T10:42:00.002-04:00

It is during Holy Week that I most often find myself longing for Jerusalem. Twice in my life I have been privileged to walk the narrow streets of that ancient walled-city so important in the scriptures. And both times (each 3-5 days in length) I had an overwhelming sense that I was in some way "home". It is difficult to describe such a feeling in detail, but from the first moment I entered through the Jaffa Gate, I felt a familiarity that often I only feel when I am at home.

Some of the most powerful and profound moments of my faith occured there within the Old City walls, or just outside them in places like the Garden of Gethsemene on the Mount of Olives. It was almost as if my faith became real in a tangible way as I wandered the pathways and felt the great slabs of stone beneath my feet. These were the paths of Jesus. The stories I had read and heard came alive. And through those pilgrimage experiences, they still do.

In two short days we will experience Maundy Thursday. As I hear the texts of that evening in the midst of a Service of Tenebrae, I know already that my mind will transport me back to a place that I long to see again. A place that I wish all could see and experience. I often pray for the peace of Jerusalem, as the scriptures command. And in my heart this week, I pray with expectation that great Jewish prayer and farewell greeting..."Next Year in Jerusalem!"

The Cup

2008-03-07T12:58:00.004-05:00

It would be extremely easy to say that our cup is half-full at best right now. Our congregation has experienced a deeply painful month. 3 discoveries of cancer (possibly 4). 5 deaths. 1 horrific accident resulting in two badly broken legs. 1 discovery of a brain tumor. 1 discovery of a brain cyst. Job losses. Divorce. Legal issues. Substance abuse. All within the last month for our congregation of 300 or so. And of course, this is simply the tip of the iceberg, as many more trials and concerns are faced by many in silence or in semi-private. We find ourselves wanting to ask "Why?", and wondering if we'll ever be able to see the glass as half-full again.

And yet I am not sure if I have ever seen so vividly the church being the church before. At every turn, and at every trauma, people are stepping forward to help and pray for those who are in need. The understanding that we, as a body of believers, are to "be there" for each other in times of good and bad is no longer just a matter of words. It is a daily way of life for us as we care for each other during these times of crisis. And as pastor of this amazing congregation, it is overwhelming to see the faithfulness of God's people, as they carry forth the call to "love one another".

By no means does that supercede the pain and grief faced by so many within our body. But it does help to alleviate the need to focus on the "why?", and instead focus on how God is being glorified in the midst of this world's pain. For the church is called to reflect the very essence of God in Jesus Christ, which is in many ways simply, the promise of His eternal presence. For He is "Emmanuel"; "God with us". We are no longer alone, no matter what we encounter or go through. He is with us. Be it pain or joy, our God is with us.

It has taken me this long to figure it out, but I have figured it out. It matters not whether the cup is half full or half emtpy. What matters is that in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we are given the cup freely, and it is kept filled for us, and it shall never run dry, no matter how often we drink from it.

Lent - What if?

2008-02-08T10:20:00.000-05:00

What if the ashes didn't go away?

What if the sign of the cross wouldn't wash off with soap and water the next morning?

What if the "Cross of Christ" on my forehead remained for all to see, each and every day of my life?

Would it change my actions?

Would it change my words?

Would it change my thoughts?

Would it let people know I am a Christian?

Or can they tell without it?

What if the ashes didn't come off?

Just Move On

2008-02-06T10:20:00.000-05:00

I'm sad today. No...not because the Patriots lost on Sunday. That, of course, stunk, but my life's priorities are in enough of a proper order that I recognize the difference between a game and something important. No, I'm sad today because I simply miss a good friend and colleague.

For the last 15 months I have had the real joy of working alongside of an amazingly gifted and passionate pastor, who during that 15 month span, has become a good friend. A really good friend. Rev. Judy McCullough came to help our congregation through a time of transition. She poured herself into us, embraced us, and allowed us to embrace her back. She has helped to bring us to a great place of health and vision for ministry. The two of us had many laughs together, and deep, rich conversations. Her wisdom and discernment found the perfect balance between grace and firmness. Although her time with us only ended a couple of days ago, I miss her already.

And yet in my sadness, I find myself with a deep sense of thanksgiving to God. Judy truly was a blessing from God; a gift to me and to our congregation. And I am so thankful for that gift. And in that thanksgiving, I find my hope to "just move on". If God has been that good, won't he continue to be? Won't the plans for the future be just as great, if not better?

The newly-freed Hebrew slaves turned on God when they found themselves pinched between the waters of the Red Sea and the wheels of Pharoah's chariots. Rather than cultivating that deep sense of thanksgiving for the mighty ways in which he freed them, they allowed their fear to trump their faith. Thanksgiving for what God has done, gives us the strength to replace fear with faith, and "just move on" (God's words...not mine...Exodus 14:15).

I'm sad today. I miss Judy. But I'm ready to just move on, with thanksgiving in my heart and on my lips, proclaiming the goodness of God, and thereby finding my hope in His plans for the future.

Stepping Out

2008-01-18T10:24:00.000-05:00

A few months ago my oldest daughter had the opportunity to fly on a trapeze. There's a trapeze school up near my folks, and they had given her a gift certificate for her birthday. When we arrived that day for her to use it, I was shocked when I saw just how high up the starting platform was. I remember thinking that she was going to be pretty scared once she got up there, even more so when the leaders told us that we were not allowed to go up with her. I mean, she's only 8 years old. And yet, she climbed up the stairway, sat down on the ledge, got hooked in, and with hardly a hesitation at all, off she flew. How awesome to see her sailing back and forth, screaming with a mixture of fear and glee. By the third time, she was trying to do a flip, and all the fear was gone. When I asked her afterwards if she was scared, she said "of course". "But you jumped right off!", I replied. "I was scared, but they told me to 'go!', so I went...and it was great!", was her reply to me. That simple..."go!"..."so I went...and it was great!". Guess who got a gift certificate of his own for Christmas after remarking it looked like fun? I have a feeling that my hesitation will be a bit more prolonged than my daughter's.

This past Sunday the congregation I serve decided to choose faithfulness over fear. After a year of intentional and prayerful visioning by the Church Council, the congregation was asked to approve a budget that would carry that new vision forward. It is a budget that does not make a whole lot of business sense, meaning the projected expenses are lot more than our actual income was for this past year (and for what our projected income is for next year according to our pledges). In a business world, it is a $45,000 deficit budget. In our church world, it is a $45,000 faith budget that we have committed to "Pray It In". There was no mass hysteria at the meeting that clouded people's minds. There was certainly the realization that this is a big number, and that saying yes to this budget was indeed scary. But there was an even greater realization that we are called to be faithful to what God calls us to, and that He is bigger than a number. So we cling to the promise that He will provide for our needs. Deficit vs. Faith...semantics? I think not.

God has called us to "Go!". We're scared, but we've pushed off of the ledge, grabbing onto that trapeze tightly. May our great God replace our fear with exhilaration, as we discover the joy that comes from being faithful and soaring upon His Spirit. Who knows, maybe next year, we'll be ready to even try a flip.

Perfect and Beautiful

2008-01-08T16:12:00.000-05:00

It was an exhausting weekend.

WinterFest brings together 425 (or so) youth and adult counselors from around the East Coast for a weekend of experiential worship, seminars and fellowship. It's an honor and privilege to be the co-planner and co-leader of the weekend. Although it always takes a lot out of me (from which it seems to take me longer and longer to recover from each year), it always puts more back into me than it takes. This year was no exception.

Our speaker, Rev. Judy Howard-Peterson, Campus Pastor at North Park University in Chicago, was a great mix of challenge and edification. My lasting impression is her challenge to find the "perfect and beautiful" in our situations, in those we cross paths with, and in ourselves. That is a theme that has always resonated deep within me, and her willingness to share part of her story of loss (she has had 7 miscarriages) while yet finding the "perfect and beautiful" was a real gift to all of us.

Our Artist-in-Residence for the weekend was Kelly Kennedy of Art and Souls Ministry. Kelly is an amazingly talented potter who used the medium of her art to enhance our worship experiences, and used the meatphor of clay and artist in ways that revealed the depth of our relationship with our God, who molds and makes us as He wills, and as we allow Him. It was powerful imagery that connected well. Her assistant Susie was a joy to be around, and is gifted in the arts in her own right.

Matt Lundgren, Pastor and Worship Leader at Willow Creek Church in IL sat in with the worship band for the weekend, and led a great seminar on using gifts in worship leading. His gentle spirit, natural wisdom for flows of worship, and all around good nature is infectious. I wish I could be around him more often and on a regular basis. To be able to play my guitar with him in the same band is just a blast. Willow Creek is blessed to have him.

6 adults came along from my church. Each one being perfect and beautiful in their own right. They're willingness to give up their time for our students frees me up to lead and plan the weekend. Every good pastor who works with youth knows the value of good, solid, faithful volunteers. I am rich in them.

But when it comes to perfect and beautiful, it is our youth here at church that spring to my mind. Watching them worship and play and tease and enjoy this past weekend was amazing. One day they will be our lay leaders and our pastors. The Church is surely in good hands, for they are perfect and beautiful, as is our great and grace-filled God.

The Second Gift of Christmas

2007-12-19T11:46:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, after a very long day (which was preceeded by a very long week and a very long season of ministry), before turning in for the night, I decided to check my voicemail here at the church office. I had been in and out all day at various meetings and appointments, and wanted to make sure that a call hadn't slipped through the cracks. Sure enough, I had one unplayed message. As I listened to it, I realized that I had just received the second official gift of this Christmas season.

I wrote earlier about the gift of a starter being installed in my car, and how meaningful it was for me that a friend would use his expertise and time, to help me in my lack of both. As I reflected on that, I considered it the first gift of the Christmas season, and felt that its example was something we all should be reminded of...that we are called to use our giftedness to help others in their need, no matter in how simple a way. This second gift, that of a voicemail message, also has a lesson for us. That is, one of the best gifts that we can give during this season, is the gift of simply saying "thank you".

The woman who left the message is not a member of our church community. I met her only briefly a few years back when she helped to organize an event at the Junior High school here in town. I was asked to come and give a seminar on parenting, seminar I called "Parenting 101" and focused on acheiving wholeness in our children's lives. It seemed to be well received, and I was invited back the very next year to give the same seminar again. This woman, 3 years later, called to say "thank you" to me for that seminar. Her daughter, now in college, is doing really well, and she wanted me to know that some of the advice I had given has been very helpful in her raising her daughter to wholeness. As she sees many of her daughter's friends struggling with life and decisions, and her own daughter doing so well, she wanted me to know that I, in some way through that seminar, have played a small part in her daughter's wellness. And so, out of the blue, she called to say "thank you" and to wish me and my family a Merry Christmas.

What a joy to listen to that message! What a gift to have someone take their precious time to say "thanks" for some way that you have impacted their life for good. I pray that each of us, could pick up the phone during these few remaining days before Christmas, and make a call of "thanks" to someone who has touched us. The impact that would have on them is beyond measure, and is a true gift. And may we each, find time to pause during these last hectic days of shopping, and card sending, and wrapping, and baking, to spend time with God and to thank Him for the gift he presents to us anew this year in the manger.

The First Gift of Christmas

2007-12-04T20:43:00.000-05:00

I received my first gift of the holiday season last week. It may not seem like much to some, but to me, it was a big deal. A huge deal. Bigger than the good friend who gave the gift realizes. On a practical level, I simply received the gift of a new car starter's installation. It saved me $200 or so that I would have had to pay the auto shop. On a deeper level, someone gave their valuable time, and used their experience and giftedness to help me and my family in a way that I just couldn't.

Twice I've tried to do work on my cars, and both times they ended in disasters. The first time, many years ago, I just tried to do my own oil change. A simple procedure. But, one turn too tight on the filter, and then again on the oil pan screw, and I was paying the shop to change my oil, and fix the stuff I broke. A couple of years later, I decided to flush and change my anti-freeze. Again, a simply procedure. An hour later, I had broken off some part, stripped the threads on a valve, and dropped a nut down into the radiator. The shop was happy to see me. Since then, autos has joined electricity as the areas I'd prefer to pay someone to help me with.

And so a couple of weeks ago, the car started having difficulty starting up. The battery was good (and although I don't like to work on cars, I at least know some stuff about them), so I knew there was a good chance it was the starter. I banged on it with a screwdriver (it actually helps), but I could tell from the sounds it made that it needed to be replaced. The thought of paying money for a starter and installation at this time of year, and into a van that is now approaching 8 years old just plain stunk. More than that, it was a bit depressing.

But my friend Nick overheard Ann and I talking about it one Sunday after church, and volunteered to fix it. I know Nick well. I've learned that when Nick says he'll take care of it, it means he'll take care of it. So I said, "Thanks." And last Wednesday, on a very cold and windy day, Nick crawled under my minivan, pulled out the old starter, and installed the new one that I had picked up at the auto parts store. He lost some skin on his knuckles, as is always the case when you work on cars. He found a few other things that needed attention (and took care of them). He even filled my windshield wiper fluid. The van has been perfect since he finished.

He installed a starter. No big deal? Just a couple of bucks savings? Or a perfect example of how we can use our gifts to help others in their need?

Time

2007-11-21T11:07:00.000-05:00

"The secret of life is enjoying the passing of time." - James Taylor

As I sit in my office preparing for tonight's Thanksgiving Eve Service, and the sharing of "Words of Thanksgiving" that will be spoken spontaneously by members of the congregations, I find myself reflecting on what I am truly thankful for this year. It's a good exercise that should be done more often, rather than just once a year, for we should be a people characterized by our thankfulness to God for his blessings. And I admit that this year I am surprised by my answer to the question, "What are you thankful for?".

Yes, I am deeply thankful to God for my wife and my children, for these are the most amazing of blessings to me. I am deeply thankful for my extended family and the meaningful way they impact my life to this day. I am deeply thankful for this congregation to which I have been called to serve, and in sort of a strange way, even thankful for some of their "idiosyncrasies". I am thankful for colleagues and friends. I am thankful for health. But most of all, and most surprising to me, I find myself, this year, thankful for the passing of time.

Usually the passing of time has been something that I've lamented. I want the moment to stretch out and last longer than it does. I want an extra day on the vacation, a few more minutes with my wife, an extended day of rest, a few more hours in the week. More often than not, I am wishing life would slow down and time would not pass by. But here I am today, truly thankful for time's passage.

It has been a long couple of years in many ways. Transitions here at church, and the unknown future accompanying that transition. A new child at home (who turns 2 today). A recovery from a surgical procedure that dragged on and on. A bad back that reminds me I am getting older. And in the midst of all that, time seemed to drag and practically stand still. But now I find myself on the other side of all of that (well, almost...I can at least see what's ahead now). And standing on this side of it, I am thankful that it has passed. That time has marched on. I am thankful that part of God's plan is the passing of time.

Truly for everything there is a season. Implied in that great passage of scripture from Ecclesiastes is the understanding that one season will pass, and a new season will begin. I know not what season I am about to enter into, but with a deep thankfulness for God's faithfulness, I look forward to this new season of life and ministry, and give thanks today for the passage of time.

Prayer Vigil

2007-11-13T14:48:00.000-05:00

This past Saturday evening through Sunday morning, our church held a prayer vigil. Starting at 8:00pm, and lasting until 8:00am, a steady stream of people came into our sanctuary for hour-long slots of prayer. We prayed for ourselves and our relationship with God, we prayed for our friends and family and their many and varied needs, we prayed for our community, and we prayed for our church's future as we seek and follow God's will for this place in the days ahead.

I arrived a few minutes late for my 3:00am time slot. Feeling pretty groggy after waking up to come over, I wondered if I would be able to stay awake for my hour, or if people would just find me snoozing away in a pew when they arrived for worship later that morning. Picking up one of the guides we had prepared for the prayer gatherers, I began reflecting on the words of Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God." As I sat in the candlelight and silence, and digested those words of scripture, I realized just how little time I am still before God in my daily life. Even in that moment of prayer at 3:00am, my instincts were to turn the page on the guide and get on to the "stuff" that I could actively pray about...people who are sick, ministries within our church that are growing, the never-ending struggle with church finances, a vision for reaching out to our community in more relevant and meaningful ways. But thankfully I didn't. I didn't turn the page. Instead, I became aware of a deep sense of need to simply be still before God, and know Him in that stillness. So I sat still. I put down my prayer guide. I closed my bible. I simply sat in the quiet and stillness and rested in his presence. It was probably the best time of prayer that I have had in years.

When I finally looked at my watch, it was 4:15am. I had overshot my hour-long commitment by 15 minutes. No, I hadn't fallen asleep, but the time had passed so quickly. I wanted to stay longer, but knew I needed a few hours of sleep before the Sunday routine kicked in. I am so very thankful for those moments of stillness during the prayer vigil the other night. And I am overwhelmed to think of the others who gathered that night in prayer along with me, and while I was asleep in my bed.

Why is stillness so hard for us? Why do we feel such a need to clutter every waking moment with noise and motion? Why are we so afraid to stop, and simply rest in the presence of God? I wonder if it isn't the very fact that in the stillness we do come to know God, and the more we know him, the more we will realize how out of whack our lives have become. Rather than face the music of what our lives have become without Him, we simply turn up the volume on life and ignore his still, small voice of love.

Laughter

2007-10-30T15:48:00.000-04:00

This season of ministry that I find myself in is pretty exhausting. Transition and change is, on the one hand, stimulating and exciting, as plans unfold and visions refine, but on the other hand trying and frustrating, as not all answers are known and timetables, at times, seem more than vague. And as the change does unfold, there is always the prospect of the "unknown" lurking in the shadows, which by its very nature, brings with it a sense of fear and doubt. Add on to that the privilege of walking alongside of people in the midst of deep personal crisis, as well as the ongoing daily tasks of ministry that keep on coming, and you have a recipe for emotional, physical and spiritual drain.

I'm doing what I can to combat that drain (although those late night Red Sox games did not help the physical side of the equation). Making sure I carve out time for prayer, personal study, renewal with colleagues, reading, etc. Without the prayers of others I would be in even worse shape, I'm sure.

And so I am so thankful for the portion of my ministry that involves youth. They bring such energy and enthusiasm for just about anything. And best of all, they make me laugh. And laughter is truly one of God's great gifts of healing.

So to my students who, this past Sunday night, were willing to dunk their heads into icy water, and have hay stuffed into their clothes, and eat pies using only their mouths, and bowl with assorted gourds, and powder their faces with donuts on a string, and smash a pumpkin like a pinata, and wear hilarious costumes...thank you for making me laugh. I really needed it, more than you know!

Life Together

2007-10-09T14:12:00.000-04:00

For Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Christian community that we call "the church", was not just a theoretical organism, providing fodder for his next book. Christian community, the role of fellowship in one's faith, "the church", was alive and real and vital to his everyday existence. It was not something to be taken for granted, but something that was to be committed to and worked upon daily. It was the living out of our faith. It was our "life together".

Bonhoeffer wrote his two most famous works, The Cost of Discipleship and Life Together, while leading a group of 25 young men at a clandestine seminary in Finkenwald. Having rejected the Nazi regime's call for the church and state to merge by signing the famous Barmen Declaration, (which rejected Nazi ideology and proclaimed Christ alone as sovereign of the Christian's life), Bonhoeffer helped establish what was known as the Confessing Church, an illegal and underground church opposed to Hitler and his twisted ideals. While leading these young students for 2 short years (the seminary was closed by the Nazi's in 1937 and Bonhoeffer was forbidden to write or speak publicly following it's discovery and closure - he would eventually be murdered by the SS at the Flossenburg concentration camp where he had been imprisoned for his part in a successful plan to save Jews from the death camps, and his part in a failed plot to assassinate Hitler), the role of the church, of the community, was one of deepest importance, as they tried to stand apart from what was taking place around them by standing together as one. In Life Together, he gives profound and practical advice for the community of faith.

If Life Together was required reading for every Christian church, and for every Christian, we'd surely be in a lot better shape in most of our churches. If we could somehow, someway, capture the passion for the role of true fellowship, and true community that Bonhoeffer had, I believe our churches would better be what Christ intends them to be. Places of healing. Places of welcome. Places of support. Places of strength. Places of inspiration. Places of love. Places of shalom.

But all too often we hear of the pain inflicted by the community of faith on one another. Too often someone leaves the church because of something a brother or sister in Christ said or did. Too often, our congregational meetings are more like secular town meetings or corporate annual meetings, where the individual's objective seems to be solely to win the argument, or at least to make the "other side" look as foolish as possible. Too often sarcasm and biting comments take the place of humility and respect. Too often we neglect Bonhoeffer's reminder that,

Strong and weak, wise and foolish, gifted or ungifted, pious or impious, the diverse individuals in the community, are no longer incentives for talking and judging and condemning, and thus excuses for self-justification. They are rather cause for rejoicing in one another and serving one another.

In a Christian community everything depends upon whether each individual is an indispensible link in a chain. Only when even the smallest link is securely interlocked is the chain unbreakable.

Harry

2007-09-19T13:04:00.000-04:00

Thanks to an intense lobbying effort from my 8-year-old daughter, I can now be counted as one of the vast legion of fans of the Harry Potter novels by J.K. Rowling. I've just finished Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire (#4 in the series), and stayed up late last night digging into book 5. To put it bluntly, I'm hooked.

My daughter, who is a voracious reader, started reading Harry towards the end of the school year last Spring. By her birthday in July, she had read all 6 previously published books, and was counting down the days to her birthday, not so she could celebrate with a party (which she did), but because book 7, the final book in the Harry Potter series, would be released to the public on that same day. She devoured that final book (which she got as a birthday present) in just a week's time, and it took her that long only because she wanted to savor it, rather than rush through it.

As my daughter shared with me tidbits from these novels, I, trying to be a good parent, asked some pretty pointed questions, and found myself more and more intrigued. The morning that she finished the final book, she came to me with such a look of triumph on her face and proceeded to say, "Papa, you have to read these books!" How could I refuse?

I'm a big believer that as a parent I need to have an interest in the interests of my kids. Since I too love to read, I asked her for book 1 (which she took down from it's special place on her bookshelf and handed me with a smile) and began. Almost immediately, we switched roles. She became the one asking me pointed questions each night before bed, and sharing little insights and giving foreshadowing hints. I've now instituted a rule with her that she can't reveal anything that I haven't read, no matter how small a detail or hint it might be. It's been a really great point of connection for the two of us.

Like many books in the past that include magic (The Lord of The Rings trilogy, A Wrinkle in Time, The Chronicles of Narnia) as a part of the plot, there have been some Christian groups attempting to boycott the Potter novels, or at least to turn people away from them. I, for one, am thrilled that my daughter has read these books (multiple times now), and that they have led us into some deeper conversations on evil vs. good (Voldemort vs. Dumbledore and Harry), racism (pure bloods vs. mudbloods), injustice (the role of House Elves) and predjudice (preconceived notions towards muggles and giants). Like The Chronicles of Narnia and A Wrinkle in Time, my daughter has seen God between the lines and through the characters. I'm truly thankful for the role these books are playing in our relationship.

Now if I can just figure out whose side Severus Snape is on...

New Creation

2007-09-11T13:52:00.000-04:00

Last week, my children returned to school. Well, at least three of the four of them did. Two of them, for full days of 1st and 3rd grade, the other for a 3-day-a-week preschool program. It is a bittersweet day for me as they head back to school. Not only does it signify the end of summer and a return to the fullness of the regular routine, but it also reminds me that the years are passing, and my children are growing up. Faster than I would like (most of the time).

So on that first day of school, my daughter heading into the 1st grade was a bit nervous. As I talked with her I tried to provide comfort by reminding her that this year will be a lot like last year, just for a few more hours each day (last year was a half day kindergarten). I reminded her that it was the same school, the same friends, the same daily snacks, etc. But to all of that she said "No, it's not. It's new."

What I started to figure out as I talked with her was, that although she was a bit nervous and scared, she was excited that it wasn't going to be just the same as last year. She was excited that it was going to be new. Me telling her that it was going to be the same was not what she needed to hear. She needed to hear that the "newness" (is this a word?) was going to be OK too. For her, the chance for "new" was what she was looking forward to the most.

Literally just a day or two after that first day of school, I was emailing with a college student from my church who is off to freshman year in college, and she told me that the best thing about college so far (she had been there for a couple of weeks at that point) was that it was all new. That she had a chance to recreate who she was, because no one approached her with predeveloped notions about who she was, what she liked, and what was important to her. Not only was it a new experience on almost every level, but she too became "new" in the midst of it.

I've often reflected on the words of the Apostle Paul in II Corinthians 5:17, when he writes that "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" (TNIV) I have witnessed people become new creations, as Christ has entered into their lives and brought change into places of pain and hurt. It is good to become new.

We live in a world and in a time that is in deseperate need of re-creation, of becoming "new". On this 6th anniversary of 9/11, I pray for the day when the old has indeed gone, and the new has come.

A Cereal-Aisle Mentality

2007-08-31T14:11:00.000-04:00

I've been struck lately by the consumerist culture that has pervaded the church, and in many ways, taken it over. It's not like this is any news to those of us in the church over the last 20 years, but for a number of reasons, it seems more pervasive than ever. It seems, Christians are expecting the church to be the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Stocked with every flavor, size, taste and shape imagineable, in order to satisfy the wants of the consumer. Give me what I want, how I want it. That's the gist of the consumerist attitude. And it has engrained itself into the church on every level, including worship. So now people "church shop". Now people complain about not "getting fed". Obviously, there are plenty of cases where there may be truth behind this last statement, but instead of taking some personal initiative and ownership of the issue, it's just easier to walk away and find the church that provides the right choice of cereal.

In a recent interview, Wigg Stevenson said,
"The most significant question for the church in a consumerist age is to ask what our situation means. What does it mean to be the church in an era that's so saturated by consumerism that it defines itself by consumption: We buy to be; we are what we buy; we are what we consume. The most important thing that the church can do is to recognize this about our society so as not to follow the consumerist impulse."

If that is indeed the question for the church, then what is the question for the Christian? What do we expect from our churches? What do we expect from our worship? Are we willing to look into the mirror and recognize that it is not always about "me" and "my wants"? Are we willing to be humble and open enough to place our neighbors and the stranger ahead of ourselves? Most importantly, are we willing to reexamine our understanding of the theology of worship (spectator vs. participant), so that the proper perspective (also known as Truth) guides our thinking on what takes place on Sunday mornings?

Or will we simply continue to shop down the cereal aisle until we find what we like?

Dialogue & Humility

2007-08-22T11:25:00.000-04:00

Last week I had the opportunity (privilege really) to serve as speaker of the week for the final Family Camp of the summer at Pilgrim Pines Conference Center (www.pilgrimpines.org) in Swanzey, NH. My responsibilities were to preach on Sunday morning, lead a daily 90 minute morning session (during which I focused on the Parable of the Prodigal Son) for adults, as well as one hour long session on Tuesday night, again for adults. I also was to be available for conversations as needed throughout the week with the guests and the staff. It was an incredibly enjoyable week on many levels.

Along with times set aside to spend with my family swimming on the beach, paddling a canoe, and just plain goofing around, I am so thankful for those morning sessions, and the dialogue that took place. I began the week by sharing my own personal story and how it interacts with Christ's parable, and how that interaction has impacted my faith walk, my theology, and my understanding of the church's role in our world. I then invited people into the conversation for the rest of the week, as we dove into the text and all its richness. As a pastor, and in this case a speaker, there is always a bit of hesitancy when you move away from a prepared sermon/talk, and instead move into more of a dialogue on the scriptures. You never know if people will stay on track, if they will share too personal of a story that takes the focus off of the scripture and onto themselves, or if they will just say something plain wrong (which ends up turning the session into a debate between camps). In lots of ways it is easier to just "preach". But as I prepared for this week of talks, I really felt strongly that the Spirit was leading me into a "dialogue-oriented" week. And I'm so thankful that I heeded that call.

People's comments and discussion were right on topic. They were personal and poignant. They were respectful and honest. It was clear that I was still the speaker, and tried my best to keep us focused and on track, but it was a wonderful, freeing feeling, to know that I was surrounded by fellow brothers and sisters in Christ who were just as passionate about the text, and what it says to us (as individuals and as the church), as I am. And in that I was humbled, in a very positive and refreshing way.

My guess is that there is a corollary between dialogue and humility. And I'm hoping (praying really) for a bit more of both in the years ahead.

A Place, A People and A Purpose

2007-07-20T16:53:00.000-04:00

Lame Deer, Montana is not considered a tourist destination by many. The few folks who happen to pass through the village do so on their way from one awe-inspiring site to another, usually travelling from the Black Hills to Yellowstone or Glacier National Parks, or vice versa. There's not much to catch your attention as you pass by. There's a gas station where you can pay about 30-40 cents more than anywhere else in the country. There's a bit of a store selling groceries and such. A few weather beaten homes. A church or two. Horses, seemingly with the right of way on any and all roads. Little Big Horn, a location that does pull in tourists, where General Custer (nicknamed "Hard Backsides" by the Sioux and Cheyenne) met his demise, is 30 miles or so west, right along side of US 90, the main thoroughfare people are trying to connect with. The only thing that slows people down as they pass through Lame Deer is a flashing yellow light at the "major" intersection in town.

So what would bring a bunch of East Coast, upper middle class suburban high school students to Lame Deer, especially in the heat of the summer? Located in the south central corner of Montana, Lame Deer is situated on the Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation. The reservation in total has only about 5,000 tribal members. Lame Deer itself just a few hundred. And it is a place of great, great poverty. 55% to 70% of the people are unemployed, depending on the time of year. Close to 50% of the people live below the poverty rate. Malnutrition is rampant (and blatently obvious) in the children. The high school drop out rate has never been determined, but is somewhere above 50%. Drugs use and alchoholism are seemingly everywhere. It is a place, and a people, with little hope.

And that's what brought a bunch of high school kids to Lame Deer. A people and a place without hope. For in Christ, these high school kids have found hope, and heard a call to bring hope to those who need it. They have a purpose.

And so they went.

And so they did.

Through painting homes.

Through a daily Kids Club (a Vacation Bible School of sorts).

Through conversations.

Through smiles.

By simply being there, and letting these people know that they are loved, and that there are some who do care.

And in the midst of bringing hope, of living out their faith, they found that their own lives were forever changed.

To see more photos of our mission trip, and our sightseeing following, visit www.flickr.com/photos/pastorjohnnya.

Selfishness

2007-06-04T14:27:00.000-04:00

It's official. I'm the most selfish person I know.

Actually, I've known for a long time.

Not by choice, of course, but true nonetheless. And it takes a great deal of effort to overcome my own inherent selfishness as I go about my daily life. As a husband, as a father, as a friend...selfishness is constantly in the way of being who I strive to be.

I'm convinced that selfishness is the basis of our original sin as humans. It exerts control over every part of us, in every arena of our life, and prevents us from (or at least negatively encourages us from) loving God and our neighbors fully, as the scriptures command us to. Simply put, we're too busy loving ourselves. We can't focus outwardly, as we're too focused inwardly (which of course happens on a corporate level as well to churches).

At a recent district clergy meeting, someone floated the idea of making adjustments to our denomination-wide pension system to make it more "justice-based" rather than the present system which gives greater financial reward to those pastors serving larger churches (which in turn are able to give larger salaries, which then requires giving more to the pension fund which is determined by a percentage of salary). It's a catch-22. Pastors serving larger churches make more now and later, while pastors serving smaller churches, or pastors called to staff ministry positions (which traditionally pay less than Senior Pastor positions) make less now and later. The end result is a system which encourages pastors to "move up the food chain". It feeds into that inherent selfishness that all of us are called by Christ to overcome. In this discussion, someone put forth the notion that we should make pension payments (upon retirement) an across the board amount, so that all pastors receive equally, rather than receiving what was put in by their churches (and based on salary levels). This, as one clergy member stated, would be much more in line with a biblical model of justice. On an aside, it might also encourage more pastors to take small church calls, and allow more pastors to remain in staff ministry positions. They may still make less now, but they would receive equally later. At the conclusion of the discussions, one of the members talked about bringing this forward for discussion and action at our upcoming denominational ministerium annual meeting. It makes sense. It follows scripture. It seems right. It might even help a lot of churches.

But...what's the chance that our inherent selfishness can be subdued to the point, that many will be willing to give away what they see as "their money"?

Falwell

2007-05-15T15:46:00.000-04:00

I just read the news that televangelist Rev. Jerry Falwell was found dead this morning in his office at Liberty University. He was 73.

I readily admit that I have never been a fan of Rev. Falwell. Just about everything having to do with him rubbed me the wrong way as a Christian, especially as an evangelical protestant Christian minister.

I took issue with his role in the aftermath of the Rev. Baker scandal (again, another with whom I was not a big fan), and how his greed for wealth seemed to be the driving force for his involvement. I took issue with how he wielded his Moral Majority in the political scene, and used it as an instrument of judgment. I took issue with his claims of receiving direct communications from God, which he then in turn relayed to his faithful. Almost always these were messages of intolerance, and at times, of outright hatred. I took issue (albeit in a more humorous way) when he claimed that a Teletubbie was gay (simply because it was purple and sometimes carried a handbag - as far as I could tell with the few times I watched it, they weren't male or female...they weren't people...they were blobs) and a threat to the children of America. I took major issue with statements he made following 9/11. He said, "the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians...the ACLU and the People for the American Way" were to blame for that tragedy. Because, as he added, "God will not be mocked." He said similar things following Hurricane Katrina. But I think what I took most issue with, when it came to Rev. Falwell, was that he took away my voice, and others like me, who are evangelical protestant Christians, by claiming to speak for the church entire. What I have come to realize is that his hubris to claim that mantle is not the only fault. It is also mine, and those like me, who had remained too quiet for too long, and did not speak up loudly enough early enough during his reign.

And so, although I was no fan of Rev. Falwell, I do give him credit where credit is due. He was able to get Christians off of their backsides, and into the mainstream of the politcial conversation of our country. Some of them to join him. Others of us to oppose him and to speak up with another view of Christ and God's love.

Although I am interested in the conversation taking place in the realms of heaven on this day, I do not question this man's heart. He believed in Christ as his Savior, and lived accordingly.

Peace be to his memory.

Knees

2007-04-23T16:23:00.000-04:00

My friend and colleague, Rev. Bradley Bergfalk, posted this quote from Spurgeon on his own blog the other day:

“If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to hell over our bodies…

if they perish, let them perish with our arms about their knees.

Let no one to there unwarned or unprayed for.”

–Charles Spurgeon

I came across it just after reading a pain-filled email from a former student who is in the midst of a very difficult ministry setting, as he serves as a youth ministry volunteer in a cross-cultural setting. He had just finished a particularly tough night, where kids had written graffiti on the church walls (not quoting scripture either), and broken the church elevator to the tune of $800 or so. And oh yes, this ethnic congregation "borrows" the space from another predominately white Covenant church.

At one point in his email he talked about "hanging on" to the kids the best he could, even though it was so hard.

When I came across this quote, I could almost see in my mind's eye this former student hanging on to the legs of these tough, inner city kids, refusing to let them go away without knowing they are loved. Deeply loved, not only by him, but by the God he serves.

For some reason, it sure is easier for most of us to do that with kids, even high school aged kids. But when it comes to adults, our colleagues, and our neighbors... how easy it is for us to simply let go. We may be willing to point out the sin, to even pray for them, but are we willing to wrap ourselves around their very knees and assure them that they are loved? By not only God, but by us as well?

He Is Risen!

2007-04-09T08:59:00.000-04:00

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? His is not here; he has risen!"

-Luke 24:1-6a (TNIV)

The Weight of Worship

2007-04-06T12:54:00.000-04:00

Last night, our congregation gathered for a Service of Tenebrae, a time of worship using the extinguishing of candles to symbolically represent the last hours of Christ, and his subsequent crucifixion. It is a simple service, built entirely around and upon the gospel texts. Music is subdued and acapella. The church paraments and furnishings are removed. It is stark. As the service continues through communion, as the story unfolds and the lights are extinguished, the power and awe of the holy night becomes real and vivid.

At the end of the story, when Christ breathes his last on the cross, the Christ Candle (the only light in the sanctuary at this late stage of the story) is escorted out of the sanctuary (not to reappear until Easter morning) by an acolyte. At that point, in the fading darkness of the departing candle, I had the responsibility/privilege to drape the cross at the front of the sanctuary in a black cloth. As I walked down the center aisle to do so, with this sheer fabric in my arms, the Spirit moved in my own heart in an extremely profound way. Rather than being weightless, this sheer black material in my arms felt as heavy as iron. As I approached the cross, and raised the cloth, I wondered if I was strong enough to acomplish the task.

For a brief moment, I was given a glimpse into the weight of worship on such a sacred night. Praise be to God for the gift of his Holy Spirit.

Prodigals

2007-03-27T14:44:00.000-04:00

A little over a week ago, I had the opportunity to preach on Christ's parable of The Prodigal Son as found in Luke 15. Included in a group of parables that deal with the lost being found, it has always been very personal to me. For I too have a brother who was lost, squandering his life away on foolish behaviors, who came home again and was welcomed back completely and without reservation by his father. Too often, I have played the role of the 2nd son in the story, too quick to judge and condemn. But what strikes me most in both Christ's story and in my own, is that the prodigal is welcomed without an expectation of change. He is welcomed because he is loved. Change, clearly, is hoped for, and even prayed for. Change will be encouraged. Change will be discussed. But it is not a prerequisite for acceptance. It is not a prerequisite for welcoming back to the family table. It is not a prerequiste for the gift of love.

Recently, I came across two seperate articles that impacted me deeply, as I was in post-reflection-mode regarding my sermon. The first, written by Joe Klein appeared in the March 26, 2007 edition of Time magazine. Klein writes:

"For preachers like Jerry Falwell, James Dobson and Pat Robertson, the prospect of hell has always been far more vivid than the possibility of heaven. Presidential candidates like Robertson, Pat Buchanan and Gary Bauer have loaded up on the "Thou Shalt Nots" and rarely, if ever, mentioned the grace and serenity that comes from doing "for the least of these."

Klein goes on to quote former Arkansas Governor and GOP candidate Mike Huckabee, who said:

"I'm a 'grace' Christian, not a 'law' Christian. The Second Commandment - do unto others - is the basic tenet of my faith. And so I believe that life begins at conception, but I don't believe it ends at birth. I believe we have a responsibility to feed the hungry, to provide a good education, a safe neighborhood, health care..."

Klein summarizes the role of Huckabee and GOP Senator Sam Brownback in the upcoming presidential election by saying:

They represent "the introduction of a new constituency into the political process: 'Second Commandment' Christians, those more interested in salvation than damnation..."

Klein also adds that both Brownback and Huckabee have "lost" recent conservative Christian audiences by talking about things like Darfur, food banks, feeding the hungry and health care.

The second, and profoundly more powerful article I came across was found in The Covenant Companion, the monthly magazine published by my own Evangelical Covenant Church denomination. In his Markings article (which appears monthly), Jay Phelan (President and Dean of North Park Theological Seminary and Executive Vice-President of Academic Affairs for North Park University) writes, in his article entitled "Do We Have To Like Sinners?":

Perpetual moral outrage shows neither strength of character nor depth of courage. It masks my passion to control the other in ways that comport with my own views of the nature of God and the world. It uncovers the violence that lurks in my soul ready to lash out at the disagreeable other. It is a sign of narcissism, arrogance, and insecurity. And it has never saved anyone. Did sinners flock to Jesus because he glowered at them angrily? Did they find him attractive because he looked disapprovingly down his nose at them? Hardly. The complaint about Jesus was that he was too friendly with sinners. He got along with them too well. He accepted their invitations to parties. He hung out with their disreputable friends. He actually seemed to like them.

Phelan goes on to write:

It is not a moral failing to like sinners. It is not a compromise of the gospel to hang out with them. We can disapprove without being disagreeable. We can disagree without become obstreperous. We can do this because Jesus modeled it for us. We must do this because we humbly recognize our own fallibility. We too are sinners. In a culture fueled by outrage and indifference we model attention and compassion.

My brother was found by a elderly Christian couple who literally found him on the streets of a Texas city, and welcomed him with their open arms. Even though he was a drug addict, and an alcoholic, and a thief. From their gift of love, he found a new path to a new life.

I wonder why it is, that so much of the church today has seemed to have lost the call to love the lost?

Stations

2007-03-16T11:02:00.000-04:00

My first encounter (that I recall impacting me) with the Stations of the Cross took place on an 8th grade trip to Quebec. While there (supposedly to be working on our French) we visited the Saint Anne de Beaupre Basilica. It is a beautiful church and grounds. After looking at the interior, and being mesmerized by a wall covered with crutches, canes and wheel chairs left by those who had been healed during their visit, I wandered outside and noticed a path traversing a hillside. Along the path were statues of Jesus in different stages of his final hours. As I walked the path, I had one of those "holy moments" where the Spirit entered into my heart and ushered me into the presence of God. Although I had no idea how to pray the Stations, or even that others did, it was a moment that I will never forget.

Since then, I have not only come to learn the Stations, and about the history of the Stations, I have even had the opportunity (on two seperate occasions) to walk the actual Stations of the Cross in Jerusalem. The Stations have become a powerful Lenten tool for my faith as I move closer to His passion, and all the events of Holy Week.

Many Catholic churches include Stations somewhere on their grounds that are open to all visitors. There are internet sites where you can "walk" the Stations online (try http://cptryon.org//xpipassio/stations/). or download prayer booklets. I encourage you to take time out of your daily routine during this period of Lent, and to walk the Stations of the Cross with our Lord.

Lent continued

2007-03-05T16:25:00.000-05:00

Lord, I so wish to prepare well for this time.

I so want to make all of me ready and attentive and available to you.

Please help me to clarify and purify my intentions.
I have so many contradictory desires.

I get preoocupied with things that don't really matter or last.

I know that if I give you my heart, whatever I do will follow my new heart.

In all that I am today, all that I try to do,

all my encounters, reflections - even the frustrations and failings

and especially in this time of prayer,

in all of this may I place my life in your hands.

Lord, I am yours.

Make of me what you will.

Amen.

-St. Ignatius, The Spiritual Exercises; no. 46

Lent II

2007-03-02T14:45:00.000-05:00

Lent has always been a powerful time for me.

For whatever reason, I have always felt a real sense of the Spirit during the season of Lent, and find myself more easily in tune with the "work" of discipleship.

Bible study seems to come easier.

Prayer seems to flow out more naturally.

Self-examination seems more genuine.

I'm not sure of the reason for any of this, but I am one of those people who look forward to Lent. I look forward to quieting down, and slowing down, and purposefully reflecting on my faith in the One who gives all for me.

If you have not never used a daily devotional guide for Lent, I suggest you try www.sacredspace.ie. It is well run, deep enough for serious prayer, and yet its simplicity seems to match well the call of Lent.

Lent

2007-02-27T16:01:00.000-05:00

What wondrous love is this,
O my soul, O my soul!

What wondrous love is this,
O my soul!

What wondrous love is this
that caused the Lord of bliss
to bear the dreadful curse
for my soul, for my soul;

To bear the dreadful curse for my soul.

-Words: American Hymn

The View

2007-02-06T11:25:00.000-05:00

As I look out my hotel window, the peaks and snow-covered slopes of the Rocky Mountains serve as the backdrop for the steel and brick towers of downtown Denver. They are beautiful. I can see why God called them "good" back in Genesis, although in my opinion, he understated things a bit. They are more than good. They are beautiful.

And yet someday, these too will pass. They, like the rest of this world, will fade away. The mountains, the canyons, the bodies of water that so inspire us and fill us with a taste of the "awe" that is deserved by God...they all will come to an end.

But you and I will not. For we have been created for eternity. We have been created to be in relationship with the Creator for ever and ever. There will be no end.

When I stop to contemplate the depths of that (recognizing just how feeble my mind is to grasp this almost ungraspable concept), I begin to understand how humans receive the "very good" designation from God back in Genesis. I begin to understand just how beautiful we must be to God who created us.

The challenge remains to recognize this understatement of "very good" in my brothers and sisters around me. I am awed by the mountains out my window, but where is the deeper awe for the maid who will clean my hotel room?

Now!

2007-01-16T15:14:00.000-05:00

In his famous "I Have A Dream" speech, delivered on August 28, 1963 at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said:

"We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children."

Now.

Whenever I've read or heard recordings of this amazing speech, I'm most struck by this section on "now". Most people remember the "I have a dream" portion, but often forget that the phrase he most used in the speech was "I have a dream today!" His dream was not for a distant time and place, but of a fundamental change to the very fabric of society that would begin, not in some far off date when all the planets converged, but today. Now.

In the church, we so often pass on the urgency of now. How easy it is for us to fall into the deception that we can wait to address needs and issues. How easy it is for us to fall into the deception that we can wait to confront actions and behaviors that go against the foundations our "life together". How easy it is for us to fall into the deception that we can wait until "the right moment" before we act. Well, the right moment is now.

Now we need to address needs and issues.

Now we need to address immature behavior and actions.

Now we need to move forward in faith trusting in God.

Now.

The dream is today. Now.

Who is this child?

2006-12-15T10:57:00.000-05:00

Who is this child asleep in the manger?

The heavens are bright and the stable so cold.

And on this holy night, have You come to redeem us,

Little Child in the straw, little Child in the straw?

Who is this babe? The Prince of the Universe?

The donkey is braying; the angels are singing.

The prophets did say You would come to redeem the world.

Little Babe in the straw, save us all.

And if we lose sight of Your sweet face

At the birth of grace, at the birth of grace,

Light of truth, shine like Bethlehem's star

And lead us to where you are;

Show us who You are.

Merciful One, Lover of ev'ry soul,

The Father's own Son,

Emmanuel,

Yes, we believe You are able to heal us.

Noel, noel, save us all.

Save us tonight, little Babe in the straw.

Percentages

2006-11-30T14:36:00.000-05:00

I'm in the one percent. And I'm not happy about it.

On the Friday before Thanksgiving, I went in for my long overdue vasectomy procedure. I had put it off for a couple of years (which is why we have 4 kids instead of 3), but finally got up the courage to get it done. I talked with friends who told me it was no big deal. I went to the urologist's office to hear how the procedure works and what would happen afterwards. And as I drove myself to the office that morning, I was calm, cool and collected.

That was at 8:00am. By the time 3:00pm rolled around, I was anything but.

I was in the one percent that has complications. In my case, a cut/broken/burst blood vessel that filled any and all available space within that area with blood. For close to two weeks now I've been miserable, in pain, and generally useless. Now I just have to wait for my body to reabsorb all of that excess fluid build up.

One percent.

My son Tanner had his first birthday just a couple of days after my procedure. He's an even more astounding percentage. My wife was (faithfully) on the birth control pill when Tanner was conceived. That puts him in the "less than one percent" range; closer to one half of one-percent, as the pill has an effective rate of somewhere around 99.5%.

Half of one percent.

Before Tanner was born, the doctors ordered tests, and we were told that there was a one in 50 chance (that works out to 2%) that he might be born with Down's Syndrome, or a similar genetic disorder. That was scary news to hear. Really scary.

Two percent.

So many of life's monumental events hinge on which side of the percentages you fall. And the question most grapple with is who to blame: luck, fate or providence?

Run Lola Run

2006-11-13T09:59:00.000-05:00

This past week I spent a few days with my denominational colleagues in ministry from the East Coast, up at Pilgrim Pines Conference Center in Swanzey, NH. It was a good week of fellowship, worship, and lots of laughs. I appreciate those times of connection and return home refreshed and thankful to be part of something bigger than my local congregation.
Our times of continuing education were led by the husband and wife team of Robert Johnston (Professor of Theology & Culture at Fuller Theological Seminary) and Catherine Barsotti (former director of development for Centro Hispano de Estudios Teologicos), co-authors of Finding God In The Movies: 33 Films of Reel Faith.

The premise put forth by Johnston and Barsotti, is that film has become the common language of our post-modern culture, and through that common language, a meaningful and rich avenue for dialogue has developed on matters of spirituality. As the church, and as members of the clergy, that opportunity for dialogue is one that we should recognize and embrace.

One of the more humorous times of the week together was when we would watch a film and then discuss it. We were a diverse group to be sure: old-timers, young pastors, big churches already using multimedia on a regular and grand scale, small churches with one VCR (probably broken). As you might expect, the opinions towards the use of film as a starting point for dialogue were equally varied. So when we gathered to watch the cult-classic, subtitled (the dialogue is in German) film Run Lola Run, which I had seen parts of before, I was expecting some interesting opinions.

And there were.

And yet, it worked, even with such a strange film as Run Lola Run (and believe me, it is strange!). It worked, because as we began to discuss it, the conversations and arguments ran through the gamut of deep theological questions that are at the heart of faith in God, and faith in Christ as Savior. It really did create an opportunity for dialogue that was fruitful, and more than one pastor could be heard muttering "I get it." (even if we did not "get" the film itself)

Throughout the scriptures we find God using individuals and peoples and events from "the outside" to awaken his people, and challenge their faith, and expand their understanding of him and his mercies, so that they might better be the light to the world that he intended them to be.

Is it possible that even something as bizarre as Run Lola Run could be that means in our post-modern world?

To whom much has been given...

2006-10-21T22:56:00.000-04:00

I've been blessed.

My first pastorate out of seminary, I worked alongside a wonderful pastor by the name of David Johnson. He was old school all the way. His Dad was a Covenant pastor. His grandfather was a Covenant pastor. It was in his blood, and on every level he was truly a pastor to the congregation. He wasn't the greatest preacher of all times, but he loved his flock and cared for them in every way. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty around the church, and he was always available. From simply being around him I learned the role of faithfulness in my life and ministry as a pastor.

I then moved north to my second pastorate. A church on the move in ministry. I was joined by another pastor, Rick Carlson, who wasn't quite a pastor yet in the traditional sense of the word. Schooling would follow to make it official, even though his whole life was involved in ministry. Being around him was exciting and brought the best out of my gifts, as he had such a vision for what could be, to the glory of God. He became a good friend, and from simply being around him I learned the role of passion in my life and ministry as a pastor.

6 years ago I came homeward. They have been 6 rich years of ministry alongside a faithful and passionate man of God, Mark Pattie. We have complimented each other's gifts well. We've gotten out of the way of the Spirit so that it could move and direct us. We've stretched and we've stretched some more. But most of all, we've prayed. Mark is a pastor who begins with and ends with prayer. And he prays in between. Now he's gone to MN. From simply being around him I learned the role of prayer in my life and ministry as a pastor.

I've been blessed. And as I reflect on what I have received from these 3 men, it makes me wonder what impact I have on the youth I work with, as they are around me. What of the adults I minister and preach to and with?

What of me rubs off onto them? How do the ripples of my life impact those around me?

Am I brave enough to face the answers?

Reclaiming Our Name

2006-10-10T10:02:00.000-04:00

According to multiple published reports, the Rev. Jerry Falwell, self-proclaimed spokesman for "evangelicals" here in America, at a prayer breakfast last week attended by hundreds of pastors, stated, "I certainly hope that Hillary (Clinton) is the candidate (for president in 2008). I hope she's the candidate, because nothing will energize my people like Hillary Clinton. If Lucifer himself ran, he wouldn't." He then went on to assure the attendees that God would preserve a Republican majority in Congress.

Let me speak from the heart...
-I'm not a fan of Sen. Hillary. That doesn't make me a right-wing conservative Republican.
-I'm not a fan of Rev. Jerry either. That doesn't make me a left-wing liberal Democrat.
- But, I do understand the difference between Satan and another human being I disagree with politically. One I will turn from. The other I will love.

I find it so disturbing that over the last decade, the radical right has hijacked the term "evangelical" from those of us who are evangelical Christians, and claim to speak for all of us, as they reduce Christianity into 2 or 3 moral "litmus test" issues. Those of us (whether we fall to the left or to the right on the political spectrum) who are evangelicals, need to speak up and reclaim our name. We need the world to hear from us what it truly means to be an evangelical Christian...through our words and our deeds. Let us disagree. Let us debate. Let us dialogue. But let us love. Always, let us love.

"And they'll know we are Christians by our love."

God Sightings

2006-09-29T11:16:00.000-04:00

photo by Rev. Cathy Stanley-Erickson

If we would only open our eyes...
If we would simply unclog our ears...
Imagine where we would see and hear God as we journey through our supposedly mundane and ordinary daily lives.

Leadership

2006-09-14T11:00:00.000-04:00

Is it possible that a good leader and a good Christian leader are two seperate and distinct things...and even incompatible?

Often times in the church, we talk about the need for "good leaders" to rise up and assume positions of leadership within the congregation. We have our nominating committees search for "good natural leaders" but, is that what the church really needs? Does a CEO of a Fortune 500 company automatically mean that they would be a good church leader? Does a self-employed business owner automatically mean that they would be a good church leader? Does it take a knowledge of finances? Does it take HR skills and experience? Must they have a professional degree?

What makes a good church leader?

More than ever, I am convicted that a good church leader is one who is passionate about being a disciple of Christ. A good church leader is active in their own spiritual growth, and cares about the lives and faith of others. A good church leader not only prays "forgive us..., as we forgive..." each day/week, but means it, and lives it out. A good church leader prays. Faithfully and often. A good church leader trusts and believes that God has great things in store, and responds to challenges accordingly. A good church leader is more interested in God's vision than in the budget. A good church leader is more interested in people than in process, yet recognizes the importance of process too. A good church leader listens more than speaks. And too often, we miss the good church leaders in our midst.

Every church needs good leaders to step up into positions of leadership. We just need to better understand what makes a leader "good".

Change

2006-09-05T10:06:00.000-04:00

The great FDR, in his first inaugural address to our nation, spoke the famous words "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself." These were powerful words for a country in crisis, and helped to instill the resiliency and self-pride so desperately needed by his fellow citizens.

For most of us, the only thing we really fear is change. As a matter of fact, we spend most of our life attempting to eliminate as much change as we can. We develop routines. We discover the best route to work and the best place for lunch. We establish traditions. We go to the same place for vacations and do the same things each time. We adopt habits. We wear a certain brand of clothes for how they fit. We seek the comfortable and familiar. We decorate the house just so, and leave it that way for 20+ years, only to find when it is time to sell, that it is drastically outdated. We try to settle in and get everything "just right". Change frightens us, so we work to eliminate it, or at best, to confront it in very small doses. And yet no matter how hard we try, change comes. Inevitably.

I'm mindful of my grandfather (who passed away earlier this year at the age of 97) and the vast change that he experienced over his lifetime. He went from a childhood home with no electricity, phone or TV, to being one of the first to ever fly a plane (bi-plane) off of a navy aircraft carrier (a wooden deck), to watching on a TV as a fellow pilot took steps onto the moon's surface, to downloading videos and pictures of great-grandchildren via the internet. That is a lot of change for one lifetime. Grandpa liked to call it "progress".

This past week the Senior Pastor that I work with here at church announced his resignation, in order to accept a call to a Senior Pastor position in MN. This is not only a wonderful opportunity for him, but is an exciting reminder of how God continually works in our lives, if we allow him to. I'm thrilled for him. But it brings a great deal of change and transition to this congregation, and to me personally. Change and transition that instinctively creates fear.

Change has the ability to paralyze us. Progress has the ability to help us. My church now enters into a period of transition that I will no longer call "change". It is a period of transition that I will now call "progress" as God reveals his ongoing plans for us. I have nothing to fear.

And who knows what lies ahead during this period of progress...maybe we'll exchange our bi-plane for a rocket ship.

Walking

2006-08-28T11:51:00.000-04:00

Most nights I go for a walk before bed. Around 4 miles or so. It started out of need a couple of years ago as a way of loosening up my injured back before bed. I usually head out around 10:00pm, after everyone else is well in bed, and fast asleep. I take off for my regular route, sometimes with my digital music player providing background music or an audio book. Most times not. If the weather is bad, I have ways to cut it short, and if its just one of those perfect nights, ways to extend it. I've walked my route enough now that my mind and body instinctively know the way and the pitfalls. These include which areas are full of sidewalk cracks deep enough to snap my ankle, which homes leave their garbage right in the middle of the sidewalk instead of off to the side so that I could possibly snap my ankle, and which houses have dogs that like to bark with a tone that suggests they would like to come and bite me hard enough to snap my ankle. I don't even have to think about the walk anymore. My body just goes. So, my mind is free to go where it wants.

Usually the format it ("it"being my mind) follows is to take the northbound part of the trip as the time to debrief the days events. This more often than not explores the low lights of the day in greater depth and detail than the high lights, unfortunately. At times I find myself having a running conversation with myself, defending certain actions or people, and at the same time prosecuting certain actions or people. Usually by the time I head west, I've had enough of that train of thought.

The turn west is usually where I begin to notice that I'm on a walk. I check out the stars, the weather, homes that look good enough to spend a lifetime living in. I think of my turn west as my deep breath after rehashing my day.

Once I turn back to the south, I usually begin a time, which can only be called dialogue prayer. Its the time during my walk when I seem most sensitive to the things in my life for which I am most grateful. My family. My remarkable wife. The church I have the privilege of serving. My great and beautiful God. Mirroring my thoughts is my route. It is the darkest and quietest (and longest) part of my journey each night. It refreshes me.

By the time I turn east, I'm back into my "doing" mode, as I think about what needs to be done for the day ahead. Often times this comes out of my prayer time, as I envision ways to better respond to the blessings in my life. Rather than this causing me stress and anxiety, it is almost always uplifting.

The way my route takes me, I must turn north again to return home. I usually think about how different it feels from an hour earlier. My stress of the day has been released. There's nothing left to moan and groan about. I've had time with God. My body feels worked. I'm ready for home, and bed, and the new day to come.

And to think I complained a few years ago when I initially hurt my back.

Publicity

2006-08-20T22:27:00.000-04:00

One of my primary hesitations when it came to the creation of this blog, was that it would make me look self-centered and egotistical (in other words, that people would see me for me). As if other people would really care what I had to say about life and faith. The whole concept just seemed a bit self-promoting. But now that I've been at this for a while, I admit that I'm pleased with the outcome, and I'm really glad that I went forward with this. It has generated wonderful discussions, and allowed me to connect with folks that I would not otherwise have had the opportunity to do so with. And I love the way in which it has challenged me creatively, and forced me to keep open eyes and ears, as faith and life converge on a daily basis. All of which, I believe, has been to the glory of God, even if I don't always get to see the direct end result now.

That all being said, I was conflicted when I was contacted by a correspondent of our local weekly newspaper a few weeks ago. The paper wanted to do a full article on this blog. How did it start? What's its purpose? Who's the intended audience? What are you trying to say? Why you? They even sent out a professional photographer to take some photos, which ended up running with the article last week. Yikes.

And on the one hand I'm thrilled that this blog has been noticed, and that the opportunity for even more readers has been extended in such a dramatic way. And on the other hand, that same old fear of, "is this just more fuel for my already overinflated head" , came back. I guess I'll just have to live in that conflicted dualism.

The same is true for the local church. We want publicity for who we are and what we do, as it creates opportunities for even more ministry. Often times churches hire pastors hoping for that very outcome. And yet if we are to remain true to our calling as Christ's disciples, then we must constantly remind ourselves that it is God who does the work, who allows us to succeed (a difficult word to define), and who deserves every single scrap of the glory. The minute the church starts to rely on itself and not God, it ceases to be the church. Or at least, a useful church for Christ.

So...it was nice to be in the paper last week. But I'm trying hard to not let it get to my head.

Reunion

2006-08-15T10:31:00.000-04:00

A week or so ago, my wife's family (the image at left is of the official McNaughton clan crest) gathered for a family reunion, at Pilgrim Pines Conference Center (www.pilgrimpines.org) in Swanzey, NH. The whole gang was there, some of us camping in trailers, some staying in the main lodge building. Days were spent on the beach and in the bath-like waters of Swanzey Lake, as temperatures for much of the week were in the low 100's. We sat around the campfire at night, talking and playing cards together. Grandpa (Ann's Dad) opened a charge account at the snack shack on the beach and encouraged everyone to use it liberally. By Friday the charge card was three pages long.

How wonderful it was to spend such quality and quantity time together. The midwestern nephews and neice are teens now, and such great kids. I wish they were closer, like they used to be when we too lived in Illinois. The Connecticut neice and nephew are entering into their teen years, and maturing daily. They too are good kids. And it was especially fun to see Ann's two brothers and their wives as they enjoyed the change of pace that comes with kids who can now care for themselves (to a certain extent). I admit, I was a bit jealous at times.

And yet, at the same time, more than ever, I was so thankful to have these precious little gifts from God that I am able to call my children. Yes, they needed constant care (the oldest of the 4 of them is now 7). Yes, they prevented me (and Ann) from doing things that would have been fun to do (basketball, golf, tennis, naps). Yes, their nap schedule and feeding schedules got in the way and forced us to seperate from the gang at times. But how short are these days of childhood. Soon they too will be teens, able to fend for themselves (to a certain extent), and itching for freedom.

It was awesome to see the neices and nephews growing up. But, I'm in no rush for mine to do the same.

Awe

2006-08-07T11:32:00.000-04:00

On Sunday, I preached from the prophet Habakkuk, who in chapter 3 verse 2 prays, "Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Renew them in our day, in our own time make them known". Like the author and theologian Don Everts, I too believe that one of the biggest challenges facing the church of Jesus Christ today, is our loss of awe. We have forgotten just who God is, as we have, over the years, reduced him into bite size chunks of bland "tofu" (Evert's great thought, not, unfortunately, my own). If the church is going to proclaim Him to this world so desperately in need of Him, then we must reclaim the sense of awe that the people of the Hebrew scriptures, and those that interacted with Jesus on a daily basis back 2000 years ago, had. The type of awe that forced people to their knees.

As I asked in my sermon, when was the last time you were in awe of God? When was the last time you trembled in awe as you held the bread and the cup in your hands, reflecting on Jesus?

Once again the words of U2 come to mind..."Your love is teaching me how to kneel."

Never Forget

2006-08-07T11:22:00.000-04:00

Thanks to my father-in-law, who, recognizing my passion for studies and discussions centered on the Holocaust, sent me the following political cartoon. Though some believe the zenith of humanity is found in our footprint being placed upon the moon, there are those of us who see the climax of humanity in the ashes of Aushwitz. May we "Never Forget".

One

2006-07-25T11:42:00.000-04:00

As a formally trained economist from my college days, I know that numbers can be made to mean just about anything you'd like them to, depending on the context in which you place them. Give me some numbers, and I can produce a graph that shows them in either a positive or a negative light, depending on your point of view.

And so I'm careful to put forth numbers as evidence of something involving the Holy Spirit. I get uncomfortable when people talk about attendance figures at their churches or youth groups, as if these numbers provided proof of a real and relevant connection with Christ.

That being said, the numbers from last week's CHIC (www.noordinaryday.org) event in Tennessee are pretty astounding. Close to 6000 high school students gathered together to worship God, and seek his will for their lives. Over $100,000 generously given by those students as an offering to God, to be used for a village in the Sudan; enough to provide a school (with teachers and supplies) as well as a medical clinic (again, with supplies). Close to 600,000 meals prepared and boxed for shipment by those students, in conjunction with a wonderful organization by the name of Feed My Starving Children. Hundreds of students standing to signify their commitment to following Christ's call into full-time ministry of some sort. Absolutely amazing numbers.

But I am uncomfortable with numbers. Except for the number "one". "One" can't be manipulated. "One" can't be turned around. "One" has meaning that is constant, especially when it comes to talking about how the Holy Spirit moves in the lives of people. And so the most impressive number to me from CHIC is "one". One student, from my group, who stood up on Wednesday evening in the midst of a powerful service of worship, to give his life to Christ, and accept God's free gift of salvation. There were lots of others who did the same that night, and the number of those who made first time commitments to Christ would be not only impressive, but also beautiful. But the "one" is what is most important, and ultimately most impressive and most beautiful. For "one" cannot be tainted by contexts. That "one" life has now found new life in Christ, through the ministry of the Holy Spirit and an event with a weird name, known as CHIC, where that Spirit was present.

People always want to know about numbers when I return from CHIC. "How many?" "How much?" I'm thrilled to be able to tell them about the most important number of all from last week..."one".

CHIC

2006-07-11T15:18:00.000-04:00

On Saturday, (at the ungodly hour of 3:30am) I will be taking 19 high school students to our denominational (www.covchurch.org) youth conference (CHIC), held once every three years. CHIC, which stands for "Covenant High in Christ", is located once again this year at the less-than-lovely, concrete jungle known as the University of Tennessee at Knoxville. The entire city is bright orange. I kid you not.

I attended CHIC as a student back in 1984 at the University of Wyoming at Larramie. My older sister attended CHIC in 1976 at Estes Park, Colorado. My younger sister attended CHIC in 1988 at Colorado State University in Fort Collins. That's just my family, and yet it shows a sampling of how CHIC has been there for students over the generations. The early attenders (50 years ago) numbered only around 200 or so, and showed up for meetings in ties or skirts. My older sister's group numbered in the hundreds, wearing bell bottoms. I had a couple thousand and wore shorts and t-shirts (which I still do). My younger sister had over 3,000, and plenty of MTV haircuts were seen. This year, there will be over 6,000 kids, and tattoos and piercings will be plentiful.

CHIC has been a constant in the Covenant, as we have attempted to minister to high school students who are in a constantly changing culture. And the constant within CHIC itself, has been a strong sense of calling kids to accept Christ as Lord, and Savior, of their lives. It would have been easy for CHIC to turn into simply a platform for whatever the "social issue of the day" was, and yet CHIC has remained faithful to that core call to commitment. Although there is (and rightly so) opportunites within CHIC to discuss, learn about and initiate action for areas of social justice, that has never become the predominant theme. Knowing, loving and following Christ remains at the center. I'm proud to be a part of such a wonderful, life-changing event.

19 students head out on Saturday am. They are all great kids, excited and passionate about their faith. When they return the next Friday evening, I fully expect all 19 to be even more so. In fact, I expect them to return with faith on fire. How blessed I am to have the opportunity to call them brothers and sisters in Christ.

Home Again

2006-07-03T11:30:00.000-04:00

This past week, the family spent some vacation time in the beautiful White Mountains of New Hampshire, specifically at a friend's chalet at the base of Loon Mountain in Lincoln. Besides the constant deluge of rain, it was a good week together, away from the demands (both trivial and important) of daily life at home. We played games, hiked the glacial boulder caves at the top of Loon, visited Santa's Village and Story Land, swam in the Pemigawasset River, and took a short train ride through some of the most beautiful country you will find in all of New England. I even had a close up encounter with a very large black bear one evening!

And as much as I tried, I wasn't able to leave it all behind. Too much going on at church to simply release it all for the week. An important, controversial vote. A family in deep crisis. Upcoming change in the lives of good friends. "Home" was never too far from my mind.

On Wednesday, Elsie (our 2 year old), started asking us if we would ever go back to "the white house with windows". We had no clue what she meant, and wondered if it was some place we had visited in the last few days on our vacation. It took us a few hours before my wife figured out that "the white house with windows" was actually our home here in North Easton (a white cape with dormer windows facing out on the 2nd floor). In her 2-year old mind, which was comprehending "vacation" for really the first time, it was possible to her that this chalet was our new home, and that we might never return to our old home. She was simply missing her bed and toys, in spite of having fun "on the mountain". She just wanted reassurance that she would indeed return home to "the white house" someday soon. I assured her that we would.

Vacations are so good, and I am constantly amazed by those who do not take or use their vacation time to be with their families. But so is coming home again. Not only is it the place where your bed and toys are, but it is the place where the things that you care most about, and are most connected with, are. The things that never leave your heart and thoughts no matter how far away you might be.

Pain

2006-06-24T22:39:00.000-04:00

It's been a tough week, as one more within my congregation has shared with me the news of unspeakable hurt and grief. No... in reality it has been a tough year. It seems that more and more people that I come into contact with as pastor, are in the midst of pain. Deep hurting. Not the type of physical pain that comes with illness or accident (although they too have been present for many this year), but the type of deep pain that comes from broken relationships, and the struggle for self worth that comes out of abusive situations.

As a pastor, it is at times overwhelming to me, as I hear the stories of people I have come to love and care deeply about. There are even times when if I am honest I must admit, that I wished I could just forget about it for a while, or at least leave it behind when I went home for the night. And yet there is no more sacred and humbling part of my ministry, then when people share with me their pain, and invite me to enter into it with them. It is an awesome responsibility.

As one called by God to shepherd a portion of his flock, it is impossible for me to leave this pain "at the office". It occupies my thoughts and prayers. At times this year, during times of prayer, it has reduced me to tears, when words failed me. I wrote previously in a blog entry on "love" that I have come to the conclusion that it is my feeble attempts at love that reveal to me just how far are my ways from God's ways. I have also come to discover that it is in my tears that I come closest to being Christ-like.

One of the most powerful verses in the gospels is also one of the shortest in the entire scriptures. And yet it reveals so much to us about Christ and his care for those he loves, which, thanks be to God, includes me and you. In John 11:35, as Jesus hears of the death of Lazarus and sees the grief of those in pain due to his death, we are simply told, "Jesus wept." The Son of God, weeps for those in pain. Truly, he enters into our lives and our deepest hurts.

As a pastor, it is comforting and reassuring to know that my tears, put me into good company.

And Then There Were Two

2006-06-16T14:50:00.000-04:00

Add Tobi to the list of those who now know how to ride a two-wheeler. On Wednesday evening, without prompting, she jumped on the bike, put feet to the peddles, and took off. She's spent the last day tooling around the church parking lot and challenging me to races.

How good is that?

Yet what I am most proud of, is how Tobi, before she gathered up enough courage to overcome her final fears and actually peddle the bike, spent the previous two days telling everyone and anyone that her little sister now knew how to ride a bike. She told her friends at school, her teacher, folks at church, people in line at the grocery store...you name it. Even though she's older, and didn't know how to do it yet, she was proud of her little sister, and rejoiced along side her.

That's family (before years pass and it all gets tainted) the way family should be.

I am a blessed man indeed.

An Early Gift

2006-06-13T15:03:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I received an early Father's Day gift. My 5-year old daughter Lucy learned to ride a bicycle. No training wheels, no running behind holding onto the seat. Just her and the bike.

She's been at it hard for a week or so, as has her older sister Tobi (age 7 - who will also learn within the next week or so, once she gets a bit more reckless courage). With helmet on tight, and often times, elbow and knee pads secured with velcro, she has been working on gaining her balance as she's wheeled down the gentle slope of the parking lot, feet skidding across the ground occassionally to prevent a topple. For the last 2 days, she's added the part about putting her feet onto the pedals. And yesterday, she started peddling. On about her fourth attempt, it all clicked somewhere in her brain. Just like your body suddenly "gets" how to swim, and never forgets it, her body suddenly "got" how to balance on a bike. By the time she came to a stop, we were cheering like mad.

But the best part of all, and the early Father's Day present for me, was her reaction. She raised an arm into the air, shouting at the top of her lungs to the entire family (and the heavens), "I did it!", over and over again, with real tears of joy and pride streaming down her face. I ran over to her, and as I hugged her (with tears of my own), she wrapped herself around me and said, through her tears, "I love you, Papa! I love you, Papa!"

Sure beats getting a new neck tie.

On Becoming a Man

2006-06-05T16:33:00.000-04:00

For a good portion of my close to 40 years of life, I have found myself wondering when I would become a man, in my own mind's eyes. Mind you, I have had events in my life that are traditionally associated with rites of passage, that lead a boy into manhood. I was confirmed and joined my church, with all the rights and privileges and responsibilities that accompany such events. I graduated from high school, and went off to college, a half a country a way, in one of the biggest cities the US has to offer. I fell in love, fell out of love, and back into love again (some would argue more than once). I graduated college, got a job, then entered seminary after hearing God's call for my life. I began serving a church. I married. I followed God's call to another church. I had a child. I again followed God's call to another church. I had another child. And another. And another. I serve on a Board of Directors and am asked to speak to various faith-based and civic groups on a variety of topics. I am a respected (somewhat, hopefully) and useful (again, somewhat, hopefully) member of my community and society in general. Heck, I don't even get ID'd if I try to buy a beer in a restaurant anymore.

As I now approach 40 years old later this year, surely my life experiences determine that I am officially a man...no? And yet, so often I still wonder when it will happen. When will I wake up and see myself as more than just an overgrown kid?

I can tell you, that I never imagined it would happen while wearing a pair of fishing waders, standing in the pouring rain.

But it did. As clearly in my mind as if I had received a telegram informing me of the news. I knew I had become a man.

This past weekend I had the joy of sharing some time with my Dad, as I accompanied him on his annual spring fishing safari with the other members of the New England Outdoor Writers' Association. After a 5 hour ride up to Lake Bomoseen in western Vermont, we unpacked our gear, connected with old friends, checked in at the local tackle shop, and made our plans for the next morning. A good dinner, some good conversation, and some good sleep had me ready the next morning for some good fishing. Unfortunately, Mother Nature wasn't keen on cooperating.

A steady rain and an even steadier wind made it clear to us that we would not be heading out onto the lake anytime soon. So, a quick change of plans had us grabbing our fly fishing gear, stepping into waders up to our chests, and piling into Dad's Kia (which sprung a massive powersteering fluid leak...another story for another time). Following some solid information, we went to "the place" to fish on the Castleton River, where big brown trout lurk, just waiting to be caught by eager, and worthy anglers like us.

In the old days, when I was a boy, my Dad would give me a quick refresher course, some advice on the conditions, offer help on what fly to tie on (and offer to tie it on for me), and then point me to the best hole. But Saturday, it was evident right away that Dad was a bit resigned. At first I thought it was the weather, but then realized it wasn't. It was the bank of the river. Covered in loose pieces of slate, just waiting to twist a knee or an ankle, and at an angle of descent that required Billy goat-like balance. The type of river bank I had seen my Dad bound up and down for most of my life. Not anymore. Dad's bad ankle, and 70 year old body just can't do it anymore. We searched through the woods for an easier way to the big holes right below us, but none were found. In the end, I scrambled down for a cast or two while Dad stood at the top of the bank, watching in the rain.

We tried another spot on the river or two. But the same problem was encountered at each location. The bank was too steep, or the undergrowth too thick for Dad to consider conquering. At about 2:00pm, we called it quits and headed back to the resort. While undressing out of my World War II-era waders, I commented that it was time for a new pair, as these were leaking through. My Dad gently commented that I could have his newer pair of LL Bean's, which he had won in a raffle just the year before, as he was pretty sure his days of fishing the big waters were over.

And that was it. I'm not sure why it took my Dad's deteriorating to convince me that I am now a man. But it did. I always knew becoming a man would be a difficult thing in the end. But I had no idea just how difficult.

Norman Maclean, in his amazing book A River Runs Through It (nothing like the movie), writes, "I am haunted by waters". I believe this is my fate as well, and ultimately, the price of my becoming a man.

Field Trip

2006-05-26T22:36:00.000-04:00

Today I had the pleasure of accompanying my oldest daughter's first grade class on their field trip to Providence, to see a production of Aesop's Fables. I guess "production" is a bit strong of a word, as it was two guys and some homemade puppets. But, that being said, it was well received, as the 800+ kids in the theatre absolutely loved it.

At first, I thought they loved it strictly from an entertainment standpoint. But at a certain moment during the fable of the Sun and the North Wind, I realized they loved it even more from an educational standpoint. Their favorite character in the show was Aesop's dog (aptly maned Moral), who would come out at the end of each fable to drive home the moral of the story. The kids loved shouting out what they thought it was, and then to a kid, talked to each other about what the moral meant.

It was fun to watch that many kids (especially my own daughter) enthusiastically enjoying learning. There was such joy in the process.

How do we, as adults, lose that joy for learning? At what point do we shut ourselves down, and think that we actually know enough? Why is it so hard to convince others, and more importantly ourselves, that we need to continue learning and growing and stretching? What's the cause, and how do we reclaim it?

How does the church become more than a simple social club, and instead, become a joy-filled body of believers, passionate about growing in their faith, each and everyday of life?

No wonder why Jesus loved having kids around.

Sticks

2006-05-22T11:59:00.000-04:00

Have you ever considered that God really used a stick, a shepherd's staff officially, and not Moses, to free the Hebrew slaves from Pharaoh? Moses was just given the honor of transporting the stick.

He's given that "honor" partly because of his fear, for God's original intention is to work through Moses. It's only after Moses' reluctance becomes blatantly obvious and frustratingly repetitive that God switches to the stick. Moses is afraid of Pharaoh and his fellow Hebrews. Afraid that they might refuse to obey. Afraid that they might question his discernment of his call. Afraid that they might not follow when he tries to lead. But most of all, he is afraid of himself. Ultimately, I believe, afraid of his own perceived unworthiness for such a task. He reminds God...I don't even speak well. And that really is the crux of the whole thing.

This past weekend I was reminded of how it is in our very frailty and weakness that God's glory and power is revealed to the world. A young woman from our congregation, as she graduated from Confirmation, led us in a responsive Call to Worship. Doesn't sound like much on the surface. Just a few lines to read from the bulletin. But she too, like Moses, does not speak well, as she overcomes physical and mental developmental challenges each and every day of her life. But unlike Moses, she refused to let that get in the way of serving the God she loves.

It's been a long time since people reacted to a Call to Worship like they did last Sunday. Not usually the place in the service where tears are shed and the Spirit soars. But on Sunday it was.

Maybe if she was there at the burning bush instead of Moses, God wouldn't have had to use the stick.

Rain

2006-05-17T11:34:00.000-04:00

Rain. For those of us in the Boston-area, the past 5 days have been a non-stop soaking. Here where I live, we had around 8 inches of rain. My folks, just north of Boston received over a foot. That's a lot of rain!

The pictures of the flooding that has occured north of Boston are simply amazing. Roadways that are as familar to me as the back of my hand from years of travel were turned into Venice. The Ipswich River, a small gentle stream that I regularly fished as a kid, and canoed when I was a bit older, looked like the Kennebec or Penobscot after a dam release. My hometown's (Peabody) downtown was completely submurged. Schools were cancelled for 2 days. My sister, who lives in Haverhill told me that the two bridges in and out of town, which traverse the Merrimack River, were both shut down. She was going nowhere. Rain. A lot of rain.

While looking through an online set of flood photos at Boston.com, I came across an instant classic. There was a picture of a young man with a fishing pole in his hands sitting on the edge of the monument that graces downtown Peabody, pretending to fish (or possibly, really fishing, although for what, I'm not sure). I'm told the photo even made the national usatoday.com website. It was truly hilarious in the midst of a really difficult time.

As I reflected on that picture, and attempted to apply it to faith, it occurred to me of how thankful I am for those moment of laughter and joy, in the midst of the trials of life. Some of those who I consider my best friends have had the unique ability to bring a smile to my face, when sadness seemed to rule the day. Their laughter and humor didn't diminish or invalidate my troubles. But it did let me know, that in the midst of my troubles, I wasn't alone. If my life was at floodstage, they'd be there to ride it out with me. With a fishing pole in hand.

The Code

2006-05-10T13:35:00.000-04:00

It's been called the greatest threat to face the church since the split between Rome and Constantinople in 1054ce, and conversely, the greatest outreach opportunity the church has had since Peter and the other disciples received the Holy Spirit and preached the Good News in the streets of Jerusalem 2,000 years ago. Hyperbole? Reality? Either way, pretty big words for a fictional novel written to make a buck.

And make a buck, it has done. Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code is the number one all-time best selling adult fictional novel. After a few years, it continues to reside at, or near the top of every best-seller list. Numerous editions, including paperback and illustrated versions, sell like hot cakes. The Code has even spawned its own cottage industry with hundreds of books trying to prove, disbunk, or rehash the theories played out in the pages of Brown's thriller. Christians and non-Christians are making a fortune alongside of, and off of Dan Brown. Every mega-church in the country is offering a program for sale to counter the claims of The Code. And now, with the release of the big screen adaptation just days away, Code fever seems hotter than ever.

And I can't help but wonder if all the hubbub is an indictment of the state of the church in today's western society. If The Code is really that much of a threat to the church, then what does that say about the state of our convictions and beliefs, as the church, and as individuals? Is our faith really that fragile? And more importantly (in my estimation), if this is really that much of an opportunity for the church, then what does that say about how irrelevant we have made Christ in our words and deeds, for those who do not yet know him, or worse, oppose him?

Does it really take a fictional novel, whether it claims "truth" or not within its pages, to spur us on to action, to fire us up? Have we become the church of Laodicea in Revelations 3? If so, shame on us for lacking the passion to worship and serve and spread the Good News, simply out of joy for who God is, and what he has done for us in Jesus Christ.

The real mystery has nothing to do with Dan Brown or the theories of his fictional novel. The real mystery is why the church seems to need it as a wake up call.

Value

2006-05-05T14:51:00.000-04:00

As one who spent my days in college studying Economics, I've always been intrigued by the concept of "value", and how it relates to the decision making process. Most definitions state that "value", in economic terms, is the worth of a commodity as determined by its relation to other commodities. In plain speak, you might buy a hot dog for $2, but chances are you won't buy that same hot dog for $20 (unless, of course, you're at Fenway and after paying $90 to park in a gas station lot, a $20 hot dog seems like a steal). It's just not good value. Your money is worth more to you than the hot dog is. That's value. It's how we decide if something is worth it, or not.

In life we are constantly forced to make decisions about how we will use our limited resources; how we will allocate our time, talents and treasure. And although many times these decisions have little to do with finances, we often reach our conclusions based on value. We decide based on that which will give us the greatest return for our investment. The best bang for the buck.

But when it comes to the church, and ministry, how do we determine value, as we go about making our decisions, and using our limited resources? How do we determine whether something is worth it, or not? On the surface, it might make more sense, in terms of perceived value, for me as a pastor to solely involve myself in activities that connect me with the greatest number of individuals. Again, in plain speak, to allocate my resources of time and energy to a sermon which will be heard by 200+, rather than spending a few hours with one individual who is in the midst of a trying time of life. In economic terms, it make sense. It's a good value. Similarly, as a church, it may be better value for us to allocate resources from our budget to those ministries that will in the end, sustain themselves, as those ministered to become members and givers to the congregation, at the expense of those ministries and opportunities that will never become "self-sufficient". Again, in terms of economics, it makes good sense, value-wise.

But as Christians, and as the church of Jesus Christ, we are not called to live our lives, and live out the gospel, according to value. We are called to follow the will of God, as it is revealed to us by his Holy Spirit, regardless of whether or not it makes the most sense, or is logical, or is a good value. For Jesus calls us to base our decisions, not on value, but on love. And here's the kicker...we are told that if we do act out of love, we'll have more than enough resources to meet the challenge. Our blessings will overflow. God will provide.

And yet, so often we just can't get by value. We need our decisions to be logical. But what is logical about Christ? What is logical about a God who gives up all so that we might gain all, and asks us to do the same?

Humility

2006-05-01T10:52:00.000-04:00

One day in the near future, his cell phone will ring, and the hospital representative will tell him the news that in exactly two weeks time, he is to report to the hospital for surgery. This will be no simple outpatient procedure. No extraction of a tooth. He will be donating a lobe of his own lung, as will another anonymous individual, in order to potentially save a young person's life. To do so, he will be risking his own, even though the greatest care and skill will, of course, be taken. In this, there are no guarantees. No guarantees for success. No guarantees of a perfect and speedy recovery. Not even guarantees that the procedure will go forward, for at any time the entire process could collapse with one wrong test result. But at this point, everything indicates a "go". All signs indicate that the call will come.

And I admit, I am nervous about it all. For this friend is more than a friend to me. He is the definition of "brother in Christ". The impact he has had on my life, that he continues to have on my life, and on my faith in Jesus Christ, is simply and truly immeasurable. I am so much the richer for his presence and his companionship, his wisdom and his faithfulness, and above all his unconditional acceptance of me and all my foibles. And his willingness to go forward with this procedure, is just more proof of why I am blessed to call him my friend. And the willingness of his family, his wife and children, to support him in this, is just more proof of their strength, which I deeply admire. They are a cord not easily broken.

In preparations for this procedure, as you might imagine, there were, and continue to be, a myriad of tests, to determine if he will be a suitable candidate. Blood work, lung capacity, family health history, etc. I was surprised to hear that one of those tests involved interviews with a psychologist. You see, they are interested in knowing why the donor is willing to donate. Is it due to a messiah-complex? Is it due to pressures exerted by family members? Is it due to a desire to be a hero? Is it due to guilt or remorse? Why? Like the woman who humbly brings her offering of two small copper coins, and places them into the offering chests at the Temple with joy, simply because she can, so my friend is offering a lobe of his lung. Humbly, with joy. Simply because he can.

Humility is a word that seems lost in our modern culture. Everything today seems to revolve around attitude, and swagger and respect. It is too easy to miss those humble enough to offer their meager coins, as we too intently focus on those bringing their wagon-loads. I thank God for this example of humility that is being played out in my friend's life, and will be played out in the days ahead. And with all the humility I can muster, I give my prayers as a parallel offering.

Love

2006-04-19T13:46:00.000-04:00

How difficult it is to give love, without first forcing someone to earn it. Even within the supposed safety of our families, where we stress unconditional love, the pressure to perform for love seeps into much of our interaction. How difficult it is as a parent, when so much energy and effort seems continually focused on instruction and discipline and encouragement, to separate the giving of love from the end results of that day's activities and obstacles. Our displays and declarations of "I love you", too often are attached to the success of a specific endeavor, or at least when we feel we have been appeased. How difficult it is to give true unearned love, even when it is our deepest desire to do so.

Which, of course, makes Easter all that much more incredible, as I reflect on it. That the events of Holy Week, and Easter morning, are an unwarranted display of God's love for me. An undeserved declaration of God's love for the world. No reservations. No requirements. Simply done because I am loved. Simply done because we are loved. By no means does this cheapen this mighty gift of grace. Quite the opposite. It reveals the true depths of God's love, that "while we were yet sinners" he loves us. He loves us, not inspite of ourselves. He loves us, because he loves us.

How do I love without compensation? How do I love without expectation? How do I love as God has loved me? Although I am not God, I believe I am called to love others as he has loved me. And yet, loving others reveals to me, possibly even more than my sins, just how far my ways are from God's ways.

The Labyrinth of Life

2006-04-11T11:53:00.000-04:00

For most of the day on Sunday, the high school kids who make up my Student Leadership Team (SALT) here at church, turned our downstairs classrooms into a labyrinth, based loosely on Group Publishing's The Prayer Path. We'll be leaving it up throughout Holy Week so that anyone here at church can come by for an hour (or two) and experience the multi-sensory stations, listen to the pre-recorded meditations and instructions, and hopefully, connect with God in a personal and meaningful way. As Brother Lawrence suggests, to simply "practice the presence" of God.

I was really struck by how "into it" my kids got on Sunday as they created the labyrinth. They really wanted the labyrinth to look and feel right. Even when I left for a couple of hours to take my three little girls to a magic show sponsored by the local Jaycees (magic shows by magicians who reside a ways down the magician food chain...a whole other blog waiting to be written...), they remained focused and grasped the concept that they were hosting this event for the larger church. I'm proud of them, and reminded again of just how little age has to do with faith or spiritual maturity for that matter.

But the coolest thing of all, was that when I opened the doors on the labyrinth on Monday morning, who was the first one to come over to church and experience it? One of our oldest members. She came over, spent an hour and a half or so, and then signed the visitor's book with a note of just how much she appreciated the opportunity and the help the labyrinth provided her prayers that morning. Very cool. Our high school kids serving our most senior of citizens. Our most senior of citizens passionate enough about her faith to come and try something new. Very cool all the way around.

Faith that comes with age. Age that comes with faith. Beautiful witnesses both.