A Chosen Cup

The Gospel according to Matthew uses much of Mark’s version of Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane. One of the most notable differences is the way Jesus refers to the cup from which he is about to drink.

According to Mark in the NRSV translation, Jesus says, “…remove this cup from me…” whereas in Matthew, Jesus says, “…let this cup pass from me…”

(In the NIV translation, it is, “Take this cup from me” in Mark and “…may this cup be taken from me…” in Matthew.)

In Mark it is a direct request, while in Matthew the request is in a passive voice. So what’s the difference?

Mark cuts right to the chase – Jesus asks God to act so that he will not have to go through what lies ahead of him. It would be like wanting to break up with someone and knowing that the other person also wants to break up, but hoping that they would break up with you first so that you won’t have to be the bad guy/gal.

Matthew nuances it a little bit – Jesus asks that he might not have to experience what lies ahead, but stops short of asking God directly to intervene. That would be more like wanting to break up with someone, but the other person doesn’t want to, so if you don’t do it yourself the two of you will just stay together.

It leads me to understand the crucifixion as a choice Jesus is making, and if he doesn’t actually pick up the cup himself, it will just remain on the table un-drunk. I’m not wanting to split any Christological hairs here, but in Mark it feels like the crucifixion is inevitable unless God acts to prevent it, whereas in Matthew Jesus chooses crucifixion for himself. Therefore, in Mark if Jesus just stays in the garden, it would still lead to crucifixion; in Matthew the consequence of inaction on Jesus’ part means there would be no crucifixion at all.

It may be a subtle thing that I am making too much of, but I prefer the way it reads in Matthew to Mark’s version. It means something more to me if I can think of Jesus’ crucifixion as something he chose rather than something inevitable. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” It makes a difference to me that Jesus laid down his life for us, rather than having it taken away.

And then, when Jesus finishes his prayer with, “…yet not what I want, but what you want,” it means two different things: in Mark it seems to imply, “I don’t want to, but I’ll go along with what you are making me do.” In Matthew, however, it feels more like, “What I might want to do is not as important as what you want, so I choose your way.”

This distinction makes a big difference in thinking about suffering. The suffering of Jesus is not something inflicted on a powerless victim, as if he was just a prop in the drama of the crucifixion. His suffering is something he chooses to experience on behalf of another, namely, us.

That’s what makes it possible for us to condemn the violence of, for example, domestic abuse or poverty or prejudice (gasp - sounds like social justice to me), flat-out not including such suffering in the kind of suffering the New Testament seems to affirm so often (i.e. Romans 5: suffering > endurance > character > hope). This "Christian" suffering is chosen, and is for the sake of someone else, to make another person’s life better somehow.

The cup of the crucifixion sat on the table in front of Jesus. He asked that it disappear, if possible, so that he would not have to drink it. But it didn’t – and he did. He chose it, picked it up on his own, and drank it – to make our lives better somehow.

Focus. Or not.

I’m having a very difficult day. I cannot get my brain to focus on anything. I keep feeling the lure of a sunny sky and a warm breeze. I have a Bible study to prepare and a sermon to write, but every time I sit down to pull something together, I get distracted.

There have been a bunch of remodeling related interruptions today, and so that kind of throws off the rhythm a little bit. The last little details of a big job like this just take forever to finish up, it seems. Who would have thought that the color of the caulk in the joints on the exterior walls would have taken so much of my time today? (Thank God for Misty and Don, who are really good at just getting stuff done that needs to get done, and done well.)

So I’m writing this meaningless little blurb as a way to jump start my mind.

Or maybe I’ll just go sit outside and bask in the sunshine.

A Note to Our Foster Kids

Dear Boys,

Two more days.

For more than a year you have been with us. You have trusted us with your care. You have let us feed you and bathe you and put you to bed. You have been our kids for 13 months, and it has been so wonderful. Let me tell you some things:

You do not like vegetables, but will consent to sample a carrot if we insist. Sometimes. We know this because there were times in the past year-plus-a-month that we had to practically force you to eat anything at all, but now you do so well. And we are so proud of you when you do.

You like to read a couple of stories, sing a couple of songs (“Twinkle, Twinkle” and “I See the Moon” are particular favorites), and then say a prayer (the one that starts “Now I lay me down to sleep…”) every night before bed. We know this because we have done just that every single night for more than thirteen months now.

After breakfast, you simply must dance. And you absolutely must listen to “I Want You Back” by the Jackson 5 when you do. If neither of these things happen, you often burst into tears until it does. We know this because we are so sick and tired of “I Want You Back” by the Jackson 5 that we’ll probably never “want it back” ever again.

You have taught us so much about what it means to trust, especially when you fall asleep in the back of the car as we drive through a rainy night. We have felt the great weight of responsibility for you, and have done our very best to meet it. They all say, “Oh, they have come so far in the past year; it’s amazing!” And they are right, you know. You have changed … a lot.

You knew how to say one word between you when you came to us – “Stop.” And now you know all the letters and can count to ten and use such wonderful words to tell us things. When we watch you run, we remember you way back when, just crawling, and are absolutely amazed.

One other thing: I want to tell you that your birth mommy loves you very much. That is honest. We know this because we have talked with her about you a lot during this last year. She was just having a really hard time taking care of you. So remember that. She loves you a lot.

And so – now, in just two days, you are moving to your forever family. Now you will trust them with all those things you trust us with now. I hope that in learning to trust us, you learned that trust is a good thing and it will be easier for you to invest it in your forever mommy and daddy. They are so nice and good and loving, and you are going to love it there.

You have made us laugh and made us cry and made us so angry. It’s time for you to make someone else laugh and cry and angry, now. In just two more days.

There will be different carrots to eat around a different table, but I’m pretty sure they’re going to make you eat them, too. There will be different story books and new songs and prayers to learn, but I’m confident that there will be reading and singing and praying there. There will more than likely be dancing, but I’m not sure about the Jackson 5. You might have to learn how to cope without that one, little guys.

We’re not gone, remember. Your forever mommy and daddy have told us that we’re going to be able to keep track of you, stay in touch with you, see pictures of you as you grow up, and send you presents on your birthday and stuff like that. That’s so great! I personally cannot wait to see what you’ll be like as teenagers – ha! What a hoot!

And so we’re going to say bye-bye, and it’s going to be a real one, for a long time, and way different than we’ve ever said bye-bye before. (Which, by the way, you still say sometimes when you mean to say “hi,” but keep working on it and you’ll get it – we know you will.) This is going to be a pretty big bye-bye this time.

We’ll probably be crying, so don’t freak out. They are such good tears! We are so happy for how far you have come and for how bright your future is. You are going to learn and grow and sing and dance and run and play and cry and laugh and bonk you head and skin your knee and go to school and fly a kite and throw a baseball and maybe ride a horse someday and …

… in two more days.

Thirsty Much?

Psalm 63 uses the powerful metaphor of thirst to describe our soul’s longing for God. The Psalmist says, “My soul thirsts for you…as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”

I am aware of that thirst in my own soul, and because of my life experience I am able to name that deep desire as a longing for God. But how many people, because of their own unique life experiences, may sense that longing but are unable to identify it as such? How many people we run across in our day-to-day lives are feeling an unnamed thirst?

In an anxious scramble to quench that thirst, many people turn to unhealthy things, things that may seem at first to refresh us, but prove to be shallow and momentary. We try to quench our thirst with drugs and alcohol, or with career and financial success, or with television and internet entertainment, or something as simple as status or reputation, or … whatever it may be.

It’s all false, but it is so insidiously veiled in such lovely packaging, we are often fooled. In fact, we might even feel like the thirst is actually satisfied … for a while. But it always comes back.
Jesus said, “Those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.” Once we realize that our thirst is for God, and stop trying to quench it with other things, we realize that God has been trying to offer us living water all along, and we find that we never thirst again.

“How is it with your soul?” Are you thirsty? With what are you trying to quench your thirst … instead of God?

The "Here I Am Lord" Story

A couple of years into my time as a Director of Music Ministry at First Presbyterian Church of Galesburg, Illinois, I began to feel restless. I loved what I was doing with all of my heart and had a deep commitment to the people of that congregation, but I sensed an unknown nudging.

I know now that the nudging was God’s call into ordained ministry. In my experience, I did not encounter a burning bush, that solitary moment of call. Hindsight has revealed more like a series of mini-calls over the course of two years, little whispers here and there. One of those whispers was “Here I Am, Lord.” So here is the “Here I Am, Lord” story…

(By the way, I mentioned this story way back when, when I wrote a two-part post about being called to ministry. Click this and then this to read it.)

For some, “Here I Am, Lord” is an overdone, trite, and rather cheesy hymn. I agree with that in part, on the surface level, but honestly it is a song with a deeper resonance in my life. It truly stirs my spirit when a congregation joins together in robust voice and belts out the refrain with a full organ and piano accompaniment. Often, people who would never ever otherwise do so close their eyes, tilt their heads back, and lift up their hands in the moment. It’s great!

To tell you the truth, I cannot remember if the “Here I Am, Lord” story took place before or after I had announced to the Galesburg congregation my intention to go to seminary and become an ordained pastor. My memory is telling me that it was after I had made the announcement. Either way, it was another nudge in the direction God wanted me to go with my life.

We had a great kids’ choir program at First Presby, from the preschoolers on up. In the upper elementary choir were two Melissas, who also happened to have last names that started with “B.” So we called them “Bucky” and “Missy B” in order to distinguish them from one another. They were wonderful girls from wonderful families, fourth graders probably, very active and involved in the church.

One afternoon, at the end of rehearsal, the two girls lingered for a little while in the choir room as the other kids went down to their next activity. They wanted to ask me a question, they said.

“What’s your favorite hymn?” Missy B asked.

It is a hard question for me to answer, since I love so many. But the one that came to mind most readily was “Here I Am, Lord.” When I told them, they just sort of nodded and smiled and said they were just wondering. We went downstairs, and I really didn’t think very much more of it at the time.

Well, the next week after rehearsal, they hung back again as the rest of the kids left the room. They held hymnals in their hands. They caught me in the hallway just outside the choir area. “Wait,” said Missy B., “We have something we want to do.” She glanced over at Bucky, who kind of nodded and grinned at her.

They opened the hymnals to the page they had marked with their fingers. Bucky nodded and said, “One, two, three, four,” and they began to sing to me. You guessed it - “Here I Am, Lord.” All of the verses.

We just stood there in that hallway as I listened to them sing. They had worked all week, practicing the song so they could sing it their very best. No congregation, no huge pipe organ, no elaborate praise band. It was just two ten-year-old girls singing with the most sincerity and sweetness that I had ever experienced. I was indescribably moved.

The moment they were done was a holy moment. I didn’t want to say anything that might interrupt it. They closed the books and looked at me with shy but satisfied smiles. Missy B’s face was turning as red as her hair, and Bucky breathed out a small giggle.

I was eventually able to say, “Thank you. That was really great.” I smiled at them and bent down for a big hug.

Nudge.

I have wept for love of them…
…I will hold your people in my heart.

Malice toward none - Charity for all

"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations."
- Abraham Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address

The first time I read these words was on a family vacation to Washington D.C. when I was a kid. I was standing in the Lincoln Memorial reading them from the wall on which they are inscribed. The most striking part for me was the idea that both armies invovled with the Civil War "read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other."

But now, years later, what strikes me most is how timely Lincoln's conluding paragraph is. To be sure, there is no open warfare within our nation at the moment. But couldn't we do with a bit less malice and a bit more charity? Not that anyone would actually SAY they held malice toward another, but the the things so many of our duly elected officials do and say seem to indicate as such.

And rather than quibble about how this is a "Christian nation" or not, as if that phrase has any meaning at all, how good would it be to hear someone include the phrase, "...as God gives us to see the right" in the political discourse of our day? As convinced as Lincoln was that his perspective was right, the strength of his conviction was tempered with the knowledge that those with whom he disagreed were similarly convinced that their convictions were of God. No political party speaks exclusively for God, nor has there ever been one that did.

How would we go about doing "all which may acheive and cherish a just and lasting peace" in the present day global community? Have we sufficiently defined what a "just and lasting peace" looks like? Are we really doing all we can to acheive this end, much less "cherish" it? How different would our international relationships be if we simply used the word "cherish" a little more frequently?

Malice toward none - Charity for all. In a time when the one with the most money gets to talk loudest and longest, and it seems like the top priorities of any politician on any given day is their own electability, it would be so refreshing to reclaim the ideas Lincoln spoke of is his second inaugural address.

Veil / Curtain

Today I found that the Greek word for "veil" in 2 Corinthians 3:13 is

NOT

the same word for "curtain" in Matthew 27:51

But wouldn't it be so cool if it was?

A Foster Family's Big Week: Wrap-Up

Last week couldn’t have gone much better in terms of our foster care transition. On Friday our boys met their forever family and had a great time having lunch, playing Legos, goofing around, and reading books in the afternoon.

I think it got started out on a good foot when our 4-year-old was calling out “Hi!” to his new brother, calling him by name, leaning out the front door as their car pulled up.

My favorite moment was when all four parents said “No” at the same time to our three year old when he was putting a small Lego in his mouth! The parent ratio doubled, and needless to say he got the message. (Actually, he’s a kid who might benefit from having four parents on him at once!)

What an amazing week it was. Seven days ago we had no idea who these strangers were, and now we count them as practically family. I know that our boys are going to really flourish in their new home. It creates a sense of peace for us, knowing that.

Court on Thursday was kind of intense for me, as I sat and observed the proceedings. The judge in the case was so kind and said at one point that “these kinds of cases are the hardest cases I deal with.” We have come to know the boys birth mother this year, and have strong empathy with her. It is not ethical for me to write about the particulars of this case, of course. Suffice it to say that we feel a lot of strong emotion for her.

On a more clinical level, watching the process happen has been an incredible learning opportunity for me. The judge, case worker, juvenile officer, guardian ad litem, and attorneys involved with the case seemed to all be working together as a team to achieve the best outcome for the boys. I always had the idea that the boys’ well-being was first and foremost in everyone’s minds, and that was good to see.

So that’s where we are now. This weekend, the plan is for the boys to go for a two-night visit. The next weekend, a three-nighter! Then we’ll see how everything is working out, and take it from there. Thank you so much for keeping us in your prayers, and please continue to do so. The loving support of friends and family is so important, and deeply appreciated.

A Foster Family's Big Week, Part 2

Our foster boys are one step closer to their forever family, and we're feeling pretty happy! The grief we will inevitably feel as they leave our home will be so much easier to bear knowing that the family they are going to is so wonderful.

We spoke with three families Tuesday afternoon, and the family the boys are going to seems like such a great match for them. We are still kind of reflecting on the process we experienced (for the first time) on Tuesday. It was quite fascinating, on one level. We were truly an important part of a team consisting of case worker, juvenile officer, and guardian ad litem, all of whom sort of put our heads together to make this decision – which was unanimous, by the way.

In the whole interview / decision process, we really felt like our input was valued and respected. The magnitude of the decision we were making really didn’t hit me until later – the incredible responsibility of deciding where, how, and with whom these two little boys are going to grow up, live their lives, celebrate their victories and cry over their defeats, make their holiday traditions, and basically be shaped into the people they will become in life. Huge.

Because of the status of the case, a lot is still confidential. But I can say that we have already begun a transition process; last night Erin shared the new family’s “life book” with our 4 year old. We practiced saying his new brother’s name, and saw some pictures of his new pets, which are going to be very exciting! Our 2 year old is kind of just along for the ride at this point. We’re not sure exactly how much of what is happening is making an impression on him. We’ll see.

On Friday, we will take the boys to meet their new family for the very first time. We’ll probably get to spend several hours and have lunch together. It’s going to be quite a day! There’s no telling what might happen, and we are kind of nervous about it, to tell you the truth. But I’m sure that everything is going to be fine, and if we’re nervous, imagine how their new mom and dad feel right about now.

In upcoming weeks, a lot is going to change for our two little guys. Please keep them in your prayers, as well as us. As excited as we are for them and for their new family, this is a time of grief for us – Cori and Wes especially. We have given a year of our selves to these two boys, and it will hurt to see them go.

However, having said that, one of the most exciting things is that it seems like their new family is okay with wanting to stay in touch, and we want to, too. So we’ll get to see them grow up, albeit from a distance. The most important thing is for them to bond with their new family and figure out who Mommy and Daddy are now, so we don’t want to get in the way of that happening.

So that’s pretty good! It is very heavy still, very emotional. But there is a peace that we feel in the midst of it all, and that’s good. We still have court tomorrow, with the emotion that goes along with that. But with this foster-focused week halfway over, we’re feeling pretty happy.

A Foster Family's Big Week

This is going to be a foster-care-focused week for the Bryan family. Tomorrow we have a “Staffing” and Thursday we go to court for a hearing on our boys’ case. We don’t really know what is going to happen nor how fast, but we know that there is a change coming soon.

Being a foster family is the hardest thing we have ever done. Being a foster family is the most rewarding thing we have ever done. Paradox, schmaradox – it’s called discipleship. If it was easier, would it be as rewarding? If it was less rewarding, would we still do it? Neither question is worth much.

When you can, you try to make a difference, even if it is hard to do.

We’re not doing it for laughs.

We have said goodbye to a lot of kids in the past four years, and every single one of them was like tearing off a piece of our selves. We have said hello to a lot of kids in the past four years, and every single one of them has called us “Mommy” and “Daddy.”

Will any of them remember us?

The thing that keeps getting me is the poopy diapers. I have changed more kids’ poopy diapers, more often, than any reasonable person should. (Full disclosure: Erin has changed exponentially more than I.) Kneeling on the bathroom floor, changing a foster kid’s poopy diaper while he screams and kicks my hands away … let’s just say that sometimes when I think “I don’t have to take this shit,” I mean it literally.

Wouldn’t it be awful if we fell in love with every single child that came through our home on their way to somewhere else? Wouldn’t it be awful if we didn’t? Oh, yes, we love them all, even still. We love them as we knew them; they never age for us. They are snapshots in our wallets, slices of our life. They are wispy memories of long car rides and playground afternoons and bedtime lullabies.

I see the moon, the moon sees me, the moon sees the one I want to see.

Some people say, “I would just love them too much to let them go.” As if us letting them go somehow demonstrates how much we do not love them. No, we let them go BECAUSE we love them; foster care isn’t about us, it’s about the kids. What’s best for the kids – only and all for the kids.

There will be something significant happening this week. Not many people in the world will notice. We will. If it’s best that they are with us, they will be. If it’s best that they go somewhere else, they will go. We know going in, every time, that they will not be with us forever. Their forever family is somebody else.

We’re just the foster family. And this is going to be a big week.

Feeling Kind of Broken Hearted

Compared to my last post, feeling so groovy and inspired, this one will seem dramatically different. Sorry...

I am feeling something I’ve not felt in 5 ½ years as a lead pastor, 4 years as an associate pastor, 5 years as a full-time director of music, or 1 year as a part-time church choir director. I’m just adding it up to get a sense … that’s 15 ½ years of professional church ministry, and I have had a lot of different reactions to things. But this one is new.

It’s hard to describe. It kind of feels like a broken heart. I feel so sorry for a group of people in the church. And mixed into that is a sense that I have failed as a preacher. So blend together the feelings of broken-heartedness, sorrow, and failure, and there you have it – my mood today!

I’m not going to share the details, of course. That wouldn’t be ethical. But I can share this – we sensed the need for a change, thought through the options, decided on a plan we thought would help improve the overall health of the ministry, then proposed that change to the group that would be affected. The change would have required the group to adjust their routine every other week, and keep it the same every other week. At the same time, the change would allow others in the congregation to begin participating alongside this group in their ministry, thus enhancing the overall effect. In short, it was a compromise.

I anticipated the proposal would meet with some resistance. Almost all compromises do. But I was not prepared for the level of animosity toward the change. There were a number of people involved with the ministry who said they would quit altogether rather than compromise – that was the heartbreaking part.

This is a ministry that they claim to love doing. And so they are proving how much they love this ministry by threatening to quit instead of compromise. Make sense to you? No, me neither.

The resistance was based on how the change would disrupt their individual routine, and destroy a sense of “family” that had developed in the group. In terms of time commitment per month, the change to routine affects them by less than one percent of their time; about 3 hours per every two weeks is altered, and no time is added or subtracted to the status quo.

In terms of the feeling of “family” they have – that’s fine. But it’s a side affect of the ministry, not the mission. I tried to reason with them that the change is intended to see that the ministry more effectively accomplishes its mission. Furthermore, the insider’s feeling of family is the newcomer’s feeling of cliquishness, and I’ve worked hard to eliminate that unhealthy situation.

Here’s another wrinkle – two of the people who started this change in motion by coming to me and complaining about the ministry and how something needed to change because they were feeling so frustrated with it … (are you ready for it?) … are now two of the people saying that they are going to quit if we make this change. “Something needs to change! BUT it had better not be a change that actually affects us, or we’ll just quit.” What? Really?

I’m not mad, which is weird. At another stage in my ministry I might have been mad. This time, I’m listening to these otherwise loving, faithful, good people share their purely self-centered reactions to the change, and all I can feel is profound sorrow on their behalf. There was no empathy. There was no understanding. There was no trying to see the situation from another’s point of view. The only thing anyone was saying was how horribly this change would affect them personally. (Remember, it is a change that affects the status quo routine only every other week – it is a compromise.)

So the feeling of failure is there because I’ve been preaching here for a year and a half, calling for people to prioritize God’s mission, focus outward into the world, and think first of others before self. It makes me feel like nobody is listening to me when I experience reactions like this. It makes me not want to try so hard. It makes me want to just phone it in, if it’s not going to make any difference, anyway. Why work my tail off when people aren’t going to get it?

This too shall pass. I know.

Even though this change isn’t going to happen, something in this ministry still has to change; the need for the change is still there. I have seen this particular ministry flourish at an amazing level of excellence and energy; I know that the potential is there. I know exactly what it would take to get it there, but if the people involved would rather quit than risk the change, it won’t work. It won’t work without the people.

I’m not going to quit, though. (Insert State of the Union reference here.) I understand how systems work and how people can get so enmeshed that they cannot see clearly. My expectations are high, but they are reasonable. The ministry in question could be exceptional, and I’m not going to sit still and let it be “just fine” forever. Of course, I believe that God loves us at “just fine,” and that is just the reason that we should strive to offer our very best, even if that means we have to work hard to achieve it.

I also need to say that there is a lot, lot, lot of good, good, good stuff happening in the congregation. It is a phenomenal church and this incident has very much been the exception to the rule.

*sigh* So if, the next time you see me, I seem grumpy or distracted or not my usual self, at least now you will know why. But at least, writing this, it is off my chest a little bit. Thanks for reading.

A Ten Year Old Mission Statement

Sunday morning was incredible. There was such a good vibe in the worship services, and so many people told me that they felt it, too.

One of the coolest things happened during the sermon. I was preaching on God's mission, specifically as Jesus describes it in Luke 4:18-19. I had talked about the feeling of being sent by God to make the world a better place, and how when we are younger we feel like we can change the world but as we age we gradually lose that feeling. I was trying to say that the church needs to reclaim that idea, that we can make the world a better place, more like the way God wants it to be.

Well, I moved on to a more specific focus, talking about how the church is the body of Christ in the world today, sent on the same mission Jesus Christ was sent on. And how when we lose sight of that mission and start focusing on other things, we lose our connection to God and become just another social organization among many.

I then put it to the congregation like this. "If you wore a nametag that said 'I go to Campbell United Methodist Church' and someone came up to you this week and asked you, 'Why does Campbell United Methodist Church exist,' what would you say?" I then asked for people to call out their responses.

I clarified that the question wasn't "Why do YOU go to Campbell," but rather "Why does Campbell exist." The responses were slow to start off, but they began to come after a while. "To connect people together." "To share the love of God with others." "To offer Christ to people."

And then, in a quiet but confident ten-year-old voice from the middle of the room - "To change the world."

There it is. There's a mission statement for ya! Why does the church exist? To change the world. And who says it out loud better than anyone else? A ten-year-old.

The Holy Spirit was thick in the room at that moment. I had to repeat what he had said so that everyone could hear it. People craned their necks to try to see who it was, and whispers could be heard as the grown-ups asked one another who had brought the sermon to a halt with a burst of Holy Spirit-inspired truth. Because for a few moments there I literally could not go on. The sermon was irrelevant, insignificant fluff. Power had been spoken aloud, and I did not know how to procede.

So I didn't - for a while. I had to let the moment expand and wash over people. My mind, my heart, and my voice were all caught up in what had just happened.

What more needs to be said when a ten-year-old believes that his church exists to change the world?

The Preschool Presentation

Friday I went over to the preschool where Erin teaches to talk with the pre-K classes about being a pastor. They are having a series of these presentations about “Community Helpers” in which various moms and dads come in and talk about their jobs. I felt no small level of competition with the doctor and firefighter who had come before me!

I brought a bible, my robe, and some stoles with me, so that I’d have some “props” to show off and the kids would hopefully not be bored to tears. I started out by asking if anyone knew what a pastor did. “Help people,” said a girl. Which is actually a great answer, but it was also the whole premise of the “Community Helpers” thing – i.e. everyone coming to visit them helps people in some way and “Help people” is how they answered that question every time, no matter whom it was asked about.

So I said, “Yes, pastors help people. We help people learn about God and also about what God wants them to do. One way we do that by teaching them stories that are in a special book. (go to prop!) Does anyone know what book I’m talking about?”

“The BIBLE!” said more than a few of the kids. And after the first wave, the rest of the kids said “Bible” so as not to be left out of the fun.

So we talked about some stories out of the Bible and they told me some of the ones they knew and that was pretty fun for a few minutes.

Then, sensing attention spans drifting, I went for the next level and picked up my robe. Putting it on and zipping it up, I told them that I wear a robe to remind myself that the things I say are not supposed to be about me, but about God. Then I got to the stoles. I have a bunch of stoles, and a lot of them are pretty cool. I have never purchased a stole for myself; all have been given to me by others.

Putting on a stole with the faces of children from around the world, I told the kids that I wear a stole to remind myself that God is with me when I talk. I said it’s like God’s arm is around my shoulders. (Cheesy, huh? But they got it, I think.) I then took the children around the world stole off and asked a kid to hold it for me while I got another one out.

My plan was to let them hold the stoles so they would feel connected to what I was saying, and it worked out pretty well. However, as I put on another and then another, who would get to hold the stole quickly became a point of contention amongst my little 4 year old audience.

“But I want a scarf!” said one little girl. I made sure that she got to hold the next one. Since the “scarves” are long, three or four kids could hold one together. At least two of my stoles have now been the primary tool in a preschool tug of war match. (How many preachers can say that?)

Erin asked if any kids had any questions for Pastor Andy. I am happy to say I was able to clear up a couple of misperceptions. I was asked what I did on the “other days.” “Other days?” I replied. “Like what do you do when it’s not church day?” “Yes, I work more than just on church days. I help people during the week, too.”

“Do you live in the church?” was another excellent question. And with regard to this one, I was able to astound them on two levels. One, I live in an actual house in Springfield. (“Hey! I live in Springfield, too!”) And two, I live in the same house as Mrs. Erin, because she is my wife. This remark elicited a moment of silent puzzlement, then a burst of giggles as realization bloomed. I’m not sure if the giggles were more about Pastor Andy having a wife or Mrs. Erin having a husband, however.

I could tell things were coming to a close, mainly because the wiggly factor in the room was beginning to rise noticeably. So I told them that the best part of what I get to do as a pastor is tell people that God loves them, “just like God loves all of you” which was going to be my big ending! But I’m not sure how many of them actually heard it because they were bringing back up all my stoles and fighting over who got to carry it and someone had to go to the bathroom which of course meant that everyone else did, too.

But before I left several of the kids came up and gave me hugs, which was really nice. Except for I guess I may have hugged one little boy a bit awkwardly. As I was packing up my robe and stoles, he began to cry. His teacher asked him what was wrong. “Pastor Andy hurt me,” he whimpered.

I rushed over to him and told him how sorry I was, and kneeling down, gave him a much gentler hug. I guess that in the press of kids coming up to me I must have reached out to him and kind of lifted him up in a way that hurt his neck. I felt terrible.

I’m pretty sure the doctor and the firefighter didn’t injure anyone during their presentations.

Glimpses of Being Sent

Haiti is on our minds and hearts. Prayers are being said moment by moment, and at the same time it seems that the situation continues to deteriorate. How do we glimpse Jesus in all this horrible mess?

In Luke 4, Jesus identifies himself for us. He reads a passage from Isaiah, and then proclaims the passage fulfilled in our hearing. The passage he reads describes God’s missionary – one who is anointed and sent by God to accomplish God’s mission in the world. In his statement, “The scripture is fulfilled in your hearing,” Jesus is saying, “I am the one this scripture is talking about. I am the one who is sent.”

It is in this notion of being sent that we can perhaps glimpse Jesus in Haiti. The impulse in our hearts that causes us to weep for those who are suffering and desire to do something to help is a holy feeling. It reminds us that we are the church, the body of Christ, disciples of the one who is sent. And as his disciples, it reminds us that we are sent as well.

Like Jesus, we are sent “to bring good news to the poor.” We, too, are sent “to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind.” We are sent “to let the oppressed go free and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Today in Haiti, “good news” looks like a bottle of clean drinking water.
Today in Haiti, “release” looks like a safe place to sleep at night.
“Recovery of sight” looks like a plan to distribute food through a shattered and useless infrastructure.
Today in Haiti, oppression is foul and festering on the streets of Port-au-Prince, and Jubilee is hard to come by.

Who are we, church? Are we, like Jesus, going to identify ourselves as those who are sent? And sensing ourselves sent, whatever “sent” means for us, will we go?

Prayers – Health Kits – Offerings through UMCOR – eventually VIM trips…

We are sent. To glimpse Jesus – to offer a glimpse through our service. What if it all started with a glimpse?

Ministers' School 2010 Wrap-up: Itinerant Thoughts

Whew!

Ministers' School 2010 is in the books, and I slept well last night, let me tell you. Overall, I am very, very happy with the event. The tone was exactly right, informal, collegial, and positive. It is always a joy to see ministers greeting one another, talking about families, sharing church stories, and nurturing the connection. During worship on Thursday, we shared $1,693.26 for UMCOR's work in Haiti.

Thursday morning there was a fascinating session led by Bishop Schnase that took us through the nuances of the appointment process. He had a part of the appointment board in front of the room and had created some fictional churches and pastors. He then took us pretty much step-by-step through what he and the cabinet do when considering appointments. I really appreciated the forthrightness and transparency of the session.

The values that undergird the appointment process are very clear. All is guided by the mission of the church. There are "critical appointments" in the conference that are considered key in continuing the mission of the church, and they are not necessarily the biggest churches or the highest paid senior positions. The gifts and graces of each pastor are well rehearsed by the entire cabinet. The needs and potential of each congregation are well rehearsed by the entire cabinet. The process is long and meticulous, and filled with prayer. He was also very clear that not all conferences make appointments the same way, and that some seem to be guided more by attendance numbers, salaries, and seniority. Missouri, I am happy to say, seems to have the priorities in order; God's mission for the church takes precedence.

Personally, I discovered myself becoming quite a bit emotional as he spoke. When he was talking about pastors and their families, memories stirred.

Seven years old, the last day at Northmoor UMC, when I ran crying across the parking lot, into the parsonage, and into my room. I was followed a few minutes later by Jay LeClare, a man in the church and a good good friend. He had come to check on me, and as he sat on the side of my bed and patted my back as I cried into my pillow, I poured out all the grief I had about having to move away from my home.

Eighteen years old, the last day at Harper Chapel UMC, when I was doing pretty good with it all until I was finally able to work my way into the line of people around Dad waiting to speak to him. Then, I didn't so much hug him as collapse into his arms and burst into tears, telling him how much I loved him. I don't know how long we embraced there at the back of the sanctuary, but I'll never forget that feeling.

And of course in my own itinerancy, asking Erin to leave excellent jobs three different times in order to go to a new appointment. And the love of my life did it, all three times, with grace and compassion. It was hard for me to see her uprooting herself, but nowhere near as hard as it was for her. And it has always been so amazing to see her re-plant herself in a new place and flourish there. She is amazing. I love you so much, Erin.

I remember watching our three year old Wesley become a completely different person after moving from Warrensburg to Kansas City. His confusion and anger was expressed by tantrums that included throwing just about every toy in his room down the stairs one at a time. Sweet Cori has had to leave best friends behind twice, and her beautiful heart has been broken both times. But that same heart is what gives her the capacity not only to make new best friends, but to keep the old ones, so that now her list of best friends is significantly longer than it once was.

I write all of this not to disparage the itinerancy. Far, far from it. I am itinerant through and through. I possess a restlessness within myself that is always luring me forward to what is coming next. It's what makes me a progressive, if you must stick a label on me. Creativity and innovation are high values for me, and the itinerancy fits that attitude quite well.

I am writing all of this, I guess, to process the emotional component of our appointment process, and to say that it is vital that itinerant preachers support one another in the process. Our families need to know each other, support each other. We need to know our colleagues' kids. We need to share openly with each other without pride or pretension our emotional responses to ministry, the personal impact of undertaking the mission of God through our call to ministry.

Ministers' School will not be held in 2011, so that we can take a moment of discernment and envisioning the future of the event. One thing that I will advocate for during this process is the inherent value of meeting together across the entire conference, whatever the format happens to be.

Ministers' School - Day 2 Wrap-Up

The second day of Ministers' School 2010 is in the books, and I'm really happy! I think it is going very well, and I hope people are getting as much out of it as I am. Here are some highlights.

Elaine Robinson:
- How Methodist are we? Are we all about the form of religion and not the power of the Gospel?
- Is the UMC more like the old Church of England in Wesley's day or the Methodist movement that he started?
- Wesley preached a sermon called "The Almost Christian" - are we even almost Christians? Maybe we're more like "Not Even Close Christians."
- People are able to get excited about things, just not about Christ.
- If we had followed Wesleyan principles on money over the past fifteen years, we would not be in the dire financial shape we are now as a society.
- We need to reach people who are not in the church and allow "them" to change "us."

Bishop Schnase:
- Organizational decline is the result of arrogant neglect.
- Evangelism is comprised of more than just things a committee can vote on.
- How can clergy get outside of the church in intentional ways, taking initiative to be active in the community in ways that bring us into contact with many people?
- Who are the "doorway people" of the congregation - people who really get it when it comes to living invitationally?
- "...it's not 'holy' in some spooky way..."
- An important part of a pastor's role is the power to convene - bring people together and equip them for ministry.
- The institutional layer is important, but the relational layer underneath it all is the most important thing - it's about people, not policies.
- "And my next two points were important, too."

In the afternoon, the Methodist connection was alive in our conference room. 15 ministers from around the state scattered to tables around the room and other participants moved from table to table, hearing about a ministry idea. We called the session "Hey! That's a great idea!" It was kind of like speed dating except about ministry. :) I facilitated the event, so I got to sit in the midst of it all and listen to the excited bubble of ideas floating around. It was pretty cool!

Then we had smaller workshops we called "Skill Sets" where five different Missouri ministers gave their thoughts about sharing Christ in particular settings. We had sharing Christ .,,
...in a hospital room (led by Sally Schwab).
...in preaching (led by Emmanuel Cleaver III).
...in conflict resolution (led by Melissa Bailey-Kirk).
...with soldiers and their families (led by Scott Moon).
...with strangers you hope will become friends (led by Shawn Franssens).

I got a chance to hear three of them, and it was great! The presenters did each workshop twice in a row, so participants could pick two of the five. Thank you, thank you, thank YOU!!! to all of the presenters, the five "Skill Set" presenters and the fifteen "Great Idea" presenters. You all were awesome!

We had quite a bit of the "Wednesday afternoon trickle" this year. That's the perenniel situation in which about one-third of the participants sort of "trickle" away. They skip out and do other things. Lots of people have work that they brought or writing to do, or reading. Lots of people just take the chance to rest. Some go shopping. It's cool. we had 160 people here this year, and I counted about 110 present this afternoon.

So we are just one Thursday morning away from being done for this year. I really hope that people are going to be taking a lot of good stuff home with them. The feedback I've gotten so far has been really good.

Many I've spoken with are very disappointed that we are taking a year off in 2011. But I'm excited about the possibility of what this event might become in the future. There are some really cool, young people on the board of managers right now and they are so creative and willing to try anything! It's great.

"Offer them Christ" - Ministers' School Day One

Here's some highlights from the presentations at Missouri Ministers' School Day One:

Mark Sheets -
To share Christ, sometimes all you need to say is "Come and see."
Story of neighborhood kids who had broken church windows with a cement block being invited to worship, showing up, and being given doughnuts in the middle of worship.
Same kids running up the aisle, jumping over the communion rail, and taking a bite of the (unconsecrated) communion bread - he couldn't wait for it to be handed out because he "had a bad week and needs a lot of forgiveness."

Elaine Robinson -
Church can be like a bus driving down the street with the "Out of Service" sign lit up.
It may not be that the Wesleyan way is out of touch with society, but that Methodists have forgotten what the Wesleyan way is.
The word evangelism wasn't used until late 19th century.
"God works in us so we can work. God works in us, so we must work." - John Wesley
For Wesley: Saving souls and reforming society - cannot have one without the other.

Robert Schnase -
Be ready to speak up to tell anyone who asks why you are living the way you are.
Grace shows us our ultimate worth in God's eyes.
Grace means that in our desire to know God, we find ourselves known.
Grace isn't fluffy - it is piercing, pursuing, transforming, strong.
Fruit is future.
Grace is made real through a posture of invitation.

It was a very good day today. The registration at Ministers' School is lower than last year, and that's a bit of a frustration. But the worship and the presentations have gone very well.

We're trying some new things tomorrow, and I'm really excited to see how they work out!

Hungry

If you’re at home reading this, look at your refrigerator. (If you’re not at home, imagine your refrigerator.) Even better, get up and look IN your refrigerator. (Again if you are not able to do so, close your eyes and picture it.)

What do you see when you look into your refrigerator?

Now, think about what a hungry person would see. And I don’t mean someone who is ready for supper, I mean someone who hasn’t eaten in a couple days. Can you even imagine it?

What would they see if they looked into your refrigerator?

Where I would see a couple gallons of milk that my family will finish off in amazingly short order, a drawer full of nutritious fresh vegetables that my kids will complain about having to eat, plus the containers of left-overs to finish up … one who is starving might very well see a miracle that would save their life. I take my refrigerator for granted.

Now, think about our spiritual picture of Christ. What do you see when you “look” at Christ?

And how might someone with a deep spiritual hunger look at Christ? I must confess that there are times I take Christ for granted, just like my refrigerator, thinking that when I feel like a snack all I have to do is just open the door any time and take a portion, then package up the leftovers and store them away for later.

We see things differently – the hungry and the satiated, the humble and the haughty, the servant and the tyrant – where we stand, how we live, and our attitudes affect the way we look at the world.

I pray that God makes me hungry – blessed are the hungry, they will be filled – so that when I glimpse Jesus I will not take him for granted. I pray that God will make the church hungry, with a deep spiritual hunger that affects the way we look at Christ.

A Glimpse

What if it all started with a glimpse? Just a single glimpse. Each of us granted one small apprehension of something transcendent …

Not a gaze, not even a look. Fleeting. Out of the corner of your eye.

And what if we were assured that our glimpse, as insignificant as it may seem, was indeed a glimpse of the living presence of Christ? A flicker of the Light of the World; a crumb of the Bread of Life.
It would catch our breath and bring the twitch of a thrilled smile to the corners of our lips. Our eyes would light and we would respond with a gasp of Aha! Our understanding would deepen incrementally as we dove a bit deeper into the identity of the divine.
And then … imagine it, if you dare … what if we were to gather together to share our glimpses with one another? Each impression collected with the others so that an ever fuller picture began to emerge. Each glimpse valued for its inherent worth, each piece mysteriously connected to the whole, supplementing, complimenting, critiquing, mutually shaping.
And (are you ready for this?) what if we were to call our collection of glimpses “church?” Not the I-have-it-and-you-don’t-but-don’t-worry-because-I’ll-give-it-to church, but rather a church that values each person’s glimpse because … just because.
What if it all started with a glimpse?

What is your glimpse of Christ this week? Come be church and share it.

The Day Before the Day Before

For me, the day before Christmas Eve feels more like an “eve” than the 24th does. The 24th of December is a work day, but the 23rd always has a sense of preparation and anticipation.

We will be having three worship services tomorrow, at 4:00, 7:00, and 11:00. Each one is a little bit different; different special music, different anticipated audience, different liturgical pieces. So I have one sermon, but in three different forms, one for each service.

However, today I have made a point to not do too much. The staff went to lunch for a birthday, I did some calendar, answered some mail, read a bit, practiced my sermon(s) for tomorrow. But really not too much. I’m only up to 3,570 steps on my pedometer, for goodness sake!

It feels kind of weird, to tell you the truth. I have to force myself to operate in this mode, if that makes sense. I talk so much about people needing to slow down, take time for themselves, and have relaxing days, but it is hard to take that advice myself. I need to remember that today has been a gift.

Today is “the day before;” it is an oddly placed pseudo-Saturday in the middle of the week. Only the “Sunday” that follows is not really Sunday, it is Christmas Eve – that holiest of holy celebrations. All day tomorrow I will be an excited, jumbled up ball of nervous energy as I wait for worship. Most Sundays, my nervous energy is expended from 7:00 a.m. to 12:00 noon, then it’s over and I come crashing down. But tomorrow I’ll have to find a way to pace it, to channel it, to keep it contained until the evening.

It is a wonderful season, and nearing its fulfillment. The wait is almost over! The miracle is about to begin.

Foster Care Christmas

Last night my family went to see Santa Claus. The six of us piled into the mini-van and headed out for the offices of Missouri Baptist Children's Home, where the jolly old elf waited. MBCH is the agency through which we are licensed as a foster family, and coincidentally is also the agency that is handling our foster boys' case.

It was quite a party! Santa and Mrs. Claus were indeed there, and each kid got a gift. (Our own kids, too! Plus, there was a gift for foster parents - a Casting Crowns CD!) There were pictures with the boys, and snacks, punch, and music. Our kids had a great time.

The entire staff of MBCH was there, dressed in festive costumes, happy, laughing, playing with all the kids. And there were a BUNCH of kids there, with their foster families. It was wild and chaotic, just like a Christmas party should be.

In the midst of the wildness, there was a moment that I found myself standing off to the side with a cup of punch and a cookie, watching the people. Watching the children. Every one of them has a story, you know, and most of the stories are not happy. Every one of those kids was away from home, taken into foster care because of some catastophic reason.

How many had been abused? Which ones had been neglected? Were there kids who had come from drug houses? Which little one had been born addicted to meth? Whose parents may have been just unable to function at a high enough level to care for children?

There was no way to know the answers to the questions that arose unbidden in my mind. And then I realized that, for tonight at least, there was no need to answer them.

Last night, with smiles and music and laughter and Santa and all those people loving all those children, it was enough to just let it be Christmas.




btw - If you are interested in becoming a foster family, or know of someone who is, please contact me and I will make sure you get connected to the right people.

A Selfless Moment, or The Church Being the Church

Last week, a family’s home burned and they lost everything. We learned about it through our congregation’s contact in the “Adopt-a-Caseworker” program, a part of “Ambassadors for Children” here in Springfield. The family was receiving services in hopes that the children would be able to stay with their parents and avoid being taken into foster care.

So we put the word out on the congregation’s Facebook page and announced it in worship, and the response was overwhelming. Many, many people brought clothing, furniture, and other assorted household items to contribute. Erin toted a bunch of the stuff down to the AFC office yesterday afternoon, and there may be more to come.

Late yesterday afternoon, a woman stopped by my office with an envelope in her hand. She wanted to contribute to the family. I thanked her and took the envelope. Before she left, she paused. I sensed that she had something else to say.

She referred to her husband and said, “Yeah, we talked about it and decided to give the amount we were going to spend on Christmas presents for each other. We’ve got enough stuff, and it just feels right to do this.”

What a powerful moment! Two people decided to give up their own Christmas gifts for the sake of a family that they do not even know. I had to swallow the lump in my throat as I again thanked her deeply for their generosity.

Last night I reflected on the gift, and I realized that what I had witnessed was no less than the church in its very best expression – people coming together around a common purpose, thinking not of themselves but of others, and sharing the love of God with strangers.

There is no way to know exactly what the gifts will mean for the family, or if the kids will be able to stay at home thanks, in part, to the selflessness of those who gave. There will be no way to assess if our ministry is "successful" in that sense. This family might yet fall to pieces.

But the moment of selflessness was truly was a beautiful sight to see. Maybe every now and then that's all there is to being the church ... doing what we can without thought for ourselves for the sake of someone else.

Pray for Peace

A quick search on biblegateway.com turns up 247 occurrences of the word “peace” in the New International Version of the Bible. The first one is in Genesis and the last one is in Revelation. “Peace” is in Torah, the historical books, the psalms, the prophets, the gospels, and Paul’s letters. It’s all over the place!

One of the numerous places the word appears is in this week’s Advent prophecy from Micah 5. The one who is promised, the shepherd/king who will come from Bethlehem, will be one of peace, says Micah.

Each week of this season, Campbell UMC’s prayer focus during worship has expanded outward. We began with prayers for our local community, then prayed across Missouri, and last week were in prayer for our nation. This week our focus extends to the entire world.

And it is a world where peace is very hard to come by. Iraq, Afghanistan, Rwanda, Nicaragua, the Philippines, Northern Ireland – the list of places infected with violence seems to be endless. It is staggering to consider, and we might be tempted into apathy: “What good will our prayers do, after all?”

Well, what if our prayers for peace also submitting ourselves to be agents on behalf of God’s peace? What if our prayers also included offering ourselves to God on behalf of true shalom in this world? What if, rather than wring our hands, we offered them into God’s service?

Could we change the world … on earth as it is in heaven? That’s our prayer, isn’t it? “On earth as it is in heaven.” Pray for peace – then live the prayer.

After all, What ARE we waiting for?

The Significance of the Nativity: The Preschool Perspective

There’s not much in this world better than telling the Christmas story to a group of preschoolers. They are so eager and excited by the mysteries and the simple strangeness of the Nativity. Hearing it as they do always refreshes my own love for the story, and I always hear it in a new way.

They are always appalled that there wasn’t any place for Mary and Joseph to stay, and someone often asks why they didn’t just go to the hops-pistal, and you have to explain about Bethlehem being so crowded and that there weren’t really any hops-pistals, anyway, so they just had to try the best they could, and they understand about that.

Then there’s the part about putting the newborn baby Jesus in a manger, and then you’ve got to explain to the kids that it was a box that animals ate out of, and then you reassure them that no, the animals did not eat the baby, but they were probably close by, wondering what was going on.

And when you get to the part about the angels appearing like magic in the shepherds’ field, you can see in their faces the way they are imagining it, because their eyes kind of twinkle and they get a small, vague smile on their lips, and you are suddenly sure that the choir of angels must have looked very much like the group right in front of you right at this moment.

And then the shepherds go and visit the barn and if you forget to include the sheep they will always ask about them, so you have got to be ready with a satisfactory answer or the next several minutes will be spent debating the question, since for some it is an issue of basic sanitation for the baby and for others it is a matter of justice for the sheep, who after all, would want to go visit baby Jesus, too.

When the magi arrive they get to say the word “magi” out loud which is always giggly, but then when you get to “frankincense” and “myrrh” it escalates a bit until someone raises their hand and very sincerely challenges, “But I tought dey were de tree kings,” and so you assure her that they were very, very important people, whether they are kings or magi or wise men, and they came to worship Jesus.

And this year, when we got to that part in the story, one of my little angels raised her hand to say, “Even if they were kings, Jesus was the boss of them, too,” which is a very significant statement for a preschooler who spends a great deal of time worrying about who is and isn’t the boss of them, and at that moment I knew that the story was over because that was pretty much the point, wasn’t it. Because there it is, in the most eloquent 4-year-old-ese, “Jesus was the boss of them, too.”

And so, this time, the story ends that way. Mary, Joseph - angels, children - shepherds, sheep - magi, kings - you, and me - Jesus is the boss of us, too.

The Right Way Through a Horrible Place?

Heads up – this post will contain a political opinion! It may differ from your own, in part or perhaps entirely, and that’s okay. I say this, first of all because I believe that grace-filled, respectful dialogue can happen in matters political, too. Secondly, there are those who think a pastor should have no opinions about political issues, or at least shouldn’t express them. So if you are moved to comment, please do so with respect and grace, and realize this is just my opinion, it’s neither my congregation’s nor my denomination’s official position or anything like that.

I do not think that any reasonable person enjoys war. I think it would be a nearly universal belief that, if the right social/political/economic conditions were present such that there would be no need for war, we’d all be happy with that state of affairs. It seems to me that the biggest conflicting opinions we have are about what exactly those social/political/economic conditions would be. However, currently our nation is at war, and has been for years and years, so the question of the moment is not really “do you like war?” but rather “what should we do about it?”

President Obama sketched out a new approach to the war in Afghanistan last night, and here’s my take on what he said. We are going to send more troops for a limited time period, we are going to hold the Afghani government accountable to create stability, and we are going to work with Pakistan to accomplish the goal.

Consider two groups listening – group A wants the soldiers brought home immediately; group B wants a strategy that does not include a timetable at all. Sending more troops is going to get a thumbs-down from group A, but thumbs-up from group B. Giving the date of July 2011 to begin bringing them home will get a tentative thumbs-up from group A, and an emphatic thumbs-down from group B.

Of course there are people in between and all around those two groups, but I'm defining them for the sake of conversation.

The ambiguity here is that the war is against an ideology, not a nation. I do not think that military strength is the right means to eradicate the extremism that emerges in terrorist attacks. But I’m also not in “group A” – to bring soldiers home immediately would undoubtedly cause more harm than good. It is crucial to consider the innocents whose lives would be destroyed by the immediate withdrawal of the U.S. military forces from the region.

And this is precisely where I agree with the new approach the President spoke about last night. Because things are where they are, sending more soldiers is necessary, for the sake of the innocents. And at the same time, the legitimate governments in the region will know that there is urgency to create the kind of social/political/economic conditions that generate stability and allow for peace. There needs to be a goal to work toward, which is why I am not in “group B.”

The way to confront a destructive ideology is not with military might alone. The president said, “Right makes might.” That line caught me by surprise, and I wasn’t sure what it meant at first. I think it means that our strength comes from doing the right thing, not our ability to destroy an enemy. But at the same time, the expression of the ideology we are confronting violently kills innocent people, and that just cannot continue happening.

Stopping the expression of the ideology with the military, and simultaneously confronting the ideology itself by eliminating its root causes, seems to me to be the way to go, and what the president outlined last night. We can’t just kill the people doing the violence, and think that’s going to solve the problem. The ideology will still be there, and it will foster more people to express it.

I hate the idea of sending even more soldiers into harms way. I also hate the idea of innocent people caught up in the middle of violence. I am in awe of U.S. soldiers who are serving, so far from home, for the sake of other people. What an amazing testimony of sacrifice and selflessness. I am deeply grateful for every one of them, and pray for them and for their families, who long for their safety every single moment they are away.

Look, I’m not an expert on any of this stuff, and I’m sure that many who read this will find points of disagreement. That’s fine. I’m just saying, it is my opinion that the basics of the strategy that President Obama gave last night represent the right way to deal with a horrible, complicated, and painful situation.

The Muppets: Bohemian Rhapsody

Nice.

Thanksgiving Prayer - by Cori Bryan

Dear God,

I don't know why we have only one day to give thanks,
But while we are here we might as well start.
We all have many thank-yous in many different lengths,
And every one comes straight from our heart.

We thank you for our food, and that we have a bite to eat.
We thank you for our family and meeting here together,
We thank you for pies and cakes, for a treat,
And thank you for the climate and having good weather.

We know people all over the world don't have good things,
They don't have food, shelter, or really much to do.
We should be thankful we have that stuff, and lots of other piles of things.
And we should be thankful for you.

Life Is Short, Walk Slow

I have come up with my spiritual discipline for this Advent - I am going to walk slower.

Everywhere I go, my steps will be at a slower tempo than my default pace. I'll be sauntering places, or perhaps moseying. (I may even stroll from time to time, or maybe amble.) I have already been practicing, and let me tell you it is going to require an intentional effort to slow my steps every time I walk anywhere. Apparently, I am a pretty fast walker most of the time ... I'm just sayin.

A couple of questions that are probably wandering through your mind - "Why? is one. And "how is that a spiritual discipline?" may be another.

Why? Because I think Advent needs intentional spiritual disciplines just like Lent does. The event for which we prepare during this season is so enormous, so earth-shatteringly powerful, that our preparations for it need structure, intentionality, and purpose.

And how is walking slower a spiritual discipline? Put simply, it gives me practice with waiting. When I walk slowly toward my destination, I must resist the urge to speed up so as to arrive there sooner. Knowing that I could get there quicker and then purposefully delaying my arrival requires patience and a willingness to endure.

The side effect of walking slow is that I get more time to enjoy the way. "Just kickin' down the cobblestones" is a great way of "feelin' groovy," and time is relative, as we all know. Moving faster speeds time up, and moving slowly or stopping altogether stretches time out. Walking slowly, therefore, actually creates more time for my day!

If you've read my last two posts on Advent, you know that I'm a big advocate of truly using the season as a time to prepare for Christmas, and not to rush the miracle. The decorations, the songs, the parties, the lights - all of these are preparatory for the celebration. These preparations are in and of themselves celebrations, of course. But they lead us to the BIG one - the birth of Christ.

So this Advent season, should you find yourself walking somewhere with me, I will beg your indulgence to slow down a bit and linger a bit as we perambulate along. Practice waiting - walk slow.

What ARE we waiting for?

There are at least two ways to say “What are you waiting for?” depending on how you emphasize the syllables. The most common way to say it is to emphasize the syllable “wait” – the resulting expression is intended to impel someone to act, to stop standing around and do something.

But if you emphasize the “are,” the expression has an entirely different meaning. “What are you waiting for?” Expressed this way, the expression is one of expectation. It infers the waiting, and prompts us to think about for what, exactly, we wait.

This question is going to frame my Advent season. What exactly are we expecting to happen? If Advent is a season of preparation for Christmas, for what are we preparing, exactly? What hopes do we have this season?

Am I hoping that nobody sets the Advent wreath on fire this year? Am I hoping that all of the strands of lights in the sanctuary actually light up? Am I hoping that the remodeling project gets done on time and under budget? Am I hoping that all of our Advent activities come off smoothly?

Or am I hoping that a righteous Branch will spring up for David that will execute justice and righteousness in the land? (Jeremiah 33:15) Or am I hoping for a refiner’s fire to purify our offerings in righteousness? (Malachi 3:3) Or am I hoping for the boots of the tramping warriors and the garments rolled in blood to be burned by the coming Prince of Peace? (Isaiah 9:5)

What are we waiting for? What does the birth of Christ truly mean? The season of Advent is the gift God has given us to reflect on these questions.

The days are surely coming …

Don’t rush the miracle …

The War on Advent

I’d like to take a moment and discuss a religio-cultural war in our world, an insidious plot that is threatening to erode the very foundations of the faith. This conspiracy is so deep that NO ONE is talking about it, and only the most intuitive and discerning persons, such as myself, have noticed it. The rest of you who are blind to this war are obviously yourselves unwitting pawns in its prosecution.

I am speaking today, of course, of the WAR ON ADVENT currently being waged by Christians all over our nation!

Those who have master-minded this deviancy are so clever, they manufactured an entire other controversy to distract an unwitting nation from their true agenda. That’s right, the so-called “Christmas Controversy” is nothing but an elaborate smoke screen. It is a “green-and-red herring,” if you will. And it is working!

You see, in fighting against the straw man argument that Christmas is under attack, the anti-Adventers have recruited untold dozens to do their bidding. All of the belligerent calls to wish people “Merry Christmas” no matter what – all of the militant radio stations who begin bombarding us with Christmas music in the middle of October – all of the radical stores setting out their Christmas wares BEFORE Reformation day – it’s all working just as they planned it!

You see, in our effort to counter-attack the entirely make-believe attack on Christmas, we have started celebrating it earlier and earlier, and with more and more fervor. And the Advent-haters love it! Turns out that by early December we’re so sick and tired of the whole yuletide schtick that we just kind of coast through the rest of the time until New Year’s Eve, when we just get wasted and forget what the big deal was all about in the first place.

And what, pray tell, has happened to the season of Advent in the meantime? EXACTLY! We haven’t given it a second thought. Shoot, we haven’t even given it a first thought, truthfully. No prophecies, no waiting patiently for the Lord, no building of expectancy, no time of reflection and renewal. We go straight from Halloween Candy to Christmas Candy, with a brief stopover for pumpkin pie on the last Thursday in November.

Advent is a one candle per week deal, baby! You don’t light them all up at once! One candle for hope … wait a week … one candle for peace … wait a week … on candle for joy … wait a week … one candle for love … wait some more time … then … BAM! Christ shows up in one final candle lit on the wreath. And then you get part of that light onto the littler version of that final candle that you hold in your hand until the room is filled up with everyone’s little bit of Christ’s light and because you have waited for it ….

…because you have waited for it for those long, dark evenings … because you have waited for it over those four sacred weeks … because you have waited for it in prayer and patient anticipation …

…it is a miracle.

What are you waiting for? Truly - do we even know? I believe that there is a reason to wait, and that learning to wait may be one of the most difficult, and the most rewarding, skills we could master. You know that cheesy Christmas t-shirt theology about the "Reason for the Season." Well, there is a reason for the Advent season, as well.

Wait.

Don't rush the miracle.

Joy Defined

Veteran's Day

Thank you.

Foster Dad's Autumn

He has only had four autumns in his life, and I do not know anything about the first three.

What I know is that this autumn…

He learned about how fun it is jumping in a big pile of leaves.
He learned about grabbing up a big handful of them and tossing them up into the air.
He learned about burying your big brother in leaves and waiting for him to jump out.
He learned about picking up a bunch and rubbing them in your big sister’s hair.
He learned about the rustling sound they make when you run through them.

This was his fourth autumn, and I do not know what will happen for his fifth…
…or his sixth.
…or any of the rest.

All I know is that this autumn, we played in the leaves.

And that will have to be enough.

Seasons

Our yard is under a blanket. The oak tree out front has let go, and now leaves cover every inch of the yard. This weekend I’ll head out with rake in hand and create enormous piles that the kids will run and jump into a hundred times before we eventually bag them all up and send them away. Next spring, that very same tree will bud tender green shoots that will soon become the leaves my kids will jump into next fall. And so it goes.

A problem with “go and make disciples” as a sole mission for the church is that it is linear, not cyclical. A linear orientation cannot be forced into a reality that is inherently cyclical, that waxes and wanes over time.

The church growth movement illustrated this reality. When the church’s mission was minimized to just increasing numbers, the systemic anxiety increased dramatically. The only direction acceptable was “up,” and the season was most definitely “down.” But rather than acknowledge this as a season and look ahead into God’s preferred future, the church as a system kind of panicked and couldn’t get unstuck from the present.

If you think about it, a whole lot of faith is cyclical. The daily cycle of rising, doing our day, and sleeping again – the weekly cycle of worship, work/school/home, Sabbath rest, and back to worship again – the yearly cycle of Advent to Easter through the year back to Advent. Personally, we cycle in our relationship with God, sometimes growing closer day by day and sometimes experiencing those dark nights of the soul when we feel utterly lost and alone.

Salvation is not a march in a straight line from point alpha to point omega, so why should the church’s mission be? The idea that all the church is supposed to be doing is adding numbers to the list underestimates the mission we are truly supposed to be on. Plus, if all we are supposed to be doing is adding people to our list, how will we know when we are done?

If we think in cycles, we don’t even have to ask ourselves that question. We will be done when God completes us. Our task is simply to be present in the seasons of faith and avail ourselves to what God is doing in the world.

It is November, and we do not lament the leaves’ departure from the tree and frantically scramble to prevent them from falling, then try to invent ways to get younger leaves to attach to the baring branches. We do no such things, because we know it is just a season, and it will run its course, yielding to a new season in time.

But in the meantime we respond appropriately to the current season, and work diligently as that season dictates we should. I’m not advocating passive ambivalence; discipleship is hard work, no matter the season. If I may paraphrase Scripture, there is a time to rake leaves, a time to shovel snow, a time to buy mulch, and a time to pull weeds.

Seems to me the trick for the church is to discern the season and what type of work needs to be done in it, knowing that it will cycle away at some point in God’s timing and a new season will begin.

Congregational Flu Response

I sent this out to the congregation today:


Dear Campbell Church,

A few of you have been curious about what the congregation’s response to the flu pandemic is. Of course, our response is fluid, as the situation evolves. In numerous and ongoing conversations with staff, worship planners, and leaders, our current response is as follows.

Each individual who gathers for worship (or some other meeting) is able to decide for him or herself the level of contact with which he or she is comfortable, including the choice not to gather together at all. Each person’s decision will be respected by others, so that in interpersonal interactions, the one whose comfort level is for the least amount of contact will determine the response.

You could even use this as your conversation starter when you greet someone. You say, “Hi! Are you a hand-shaker?” They say, “Nope, I’m a waver!” You say, “Great! Good morning!” And give them a big friendly wave.

As for me, just so you’ll know: I will greet you however you want to greet. I know that touch is very important for some, and very uncomfortable for others. So if you want to shake my hand, do so. If you want to give me a big hug, do so. Knuckle bump? Groovy! If you want to put your thumbs in your ears, stick out your tongue, and wiggle your fingers at me, go for it! It doesn’t matter; the point is that I want to greet you – I want to see you in worship!

The same principle holds true for Holy Communion, which will be celebrated this week. All of the servers will be healthy and have thoroughly cleaned their hands. And if you are not comfortable coming forward to receive a piece of bread from the loaf, please do not let that stop you from sharing the sacrament with your brothers and sisters. Just come forward, let the servers know you do not care for bread or juice, and then kneel in prayer for a few moments around the table. Or just stay in your seat in an attitude of prayer as we celebrate the sacrament together.

The one who stays in their seat in prayer will be regarded no differently from the one who comes forward with hands open to receive a bite of bread. The point of communion is not the bread and the juice, the point is the grace of God. The point is that I believe with all my heart that God’s grace is there for you whether you take a bite of bread or not!

I hope this clarifies things for you. The bottom line is to find a way to be the church and at the same time be careful with this flu season. And as always, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact the church office any time.

Shalom, Andy B.


Does your congregation have a response or policy regarding this flu season? Do you mind sharing it? Please include it in a comment if so.

To Alter What God Has Made Perfect?

Today I read this sentence, “The very idea that man could alter what God has made perfect is ludicrous.”

(Here's the column in full.)

The author, Mike Hall, is the Springfield News-Leader’s “From the Right” columnist. His column today was intended to argue against the climate change (cap-and-trade) legislation now before congress. He was intending to argue that the earth warms itself and cools itself as needed, and that human activity has no impact upon it.

I should say that I love reading conservative columnists. I love to dig into a rational, insightful, well-written point of view that is different from my own that challenges me and makes me think. David Brooks is my favorite, I really like George Will and Kathleen Parker, and I read anything John Danforth writes and wish he would write more. Reading their ideas helps me formulate my own, and I truly appreciate what they have to say.

And I have many conservative friends, and many of you who read what I write on Enter the Rainbow are conservative people, also. I really appreciate your respectful, grace-filled comments over the years that I've written this blog. And so I’d like to have some respectful, grace-filled dialogue about Mike Hall’s idea that I read today.

Please correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it one of the fundamental premises of the Christian faith that humanity did, in fact, alter what God created perfect? Isn’t that kind of what we call “sin”?

Is it not the case that God sent Jesus to the world to right the very wrong that is being categorically denied in Hall’s argument? Doesn’t Christian orthodoxy go something like: God created it perfect – we screwed it up – God sent Jesus to make it perfect again?

To be sure, there is “science” on all sides of the global warming conversation. I find myself convinced by the science that says human activity has an impact on the earth’s climate, and so we ought to do all we can to lessen that impact.

And there is also “theology” on all sides of the global warming conversation. I find myself convinced by the theology that says human activity is the result of free will which is itself a gift from God, and so we ought to respond to God’s gifts with activities that care for God’s creation rather than destroy it.

In his column, Hall goes on to argue that passage of the cap-and-trade legislation will drive business overseas, where factories unregulated by the EPA will spew pollution into the air in what he calls “planetary suicide.” So, in his own column he actually contradicts what he has affirmed earlier, and seems to end up saying that humanity actually can alter creation.

(Not to mention that he seems to affirm that the EPA’s regulation of pollution is actually a good thing, which may actually run counter to his position against what he sees as government interference with private business. But I digress.)

In the end then, maybe even Mike Hall doesn’t quite believe his own theology. I happen to believe that it is absolutely true that humanity is quite capable of altering God’s creation. I think that’s actually a pretty good definition for sin, in fact. And salvation is the restoration of God’s creation, setting things in order again, reconciling the world to God.

So what do you think, readers? Does Hall's idea accurately represent theology "from the right?"

And deeper than that: Can / did / does humanity “alter what God has made perfect?”

How do you balance the sovereignty of God with the free will of human beings with regard to environmental issues?

Define "Underdog" ...

2009 Playoff Payrolls:

New York Yankees - $201,449,289 (#1 in MLB)

Los Angeles Angels - $113,709,000 (#6)

Philadelphia Phillies - $113,004,048 (#7)

Los Angeles Dodgers - $100,458,101 (#9)

(source)

I'm not saying ... I'm just saying ...



By the way ...

Florida Marlins - $36,814,000 (last)

(The (damn) Yankees payroll is 5.5 times higher than the Marlins.)


And by the way...
Yes, even the Marlins payroll is obscenely high, relative to more substantial things.


followed-up from here

Not Only Did the Chiefs Win Today ...

...but check out this article:

Raiders Achieve First Down

According to referee John Parry, the first down also caught members of the officiating crew off guard. Parry said that when Bush moved the chains, his instinct was to throw an unsportsmanlike behavior flag for taunting.
"Michael just got up off the ground and handed me the ball without trying to provoke anyone," Parry said. "Usually you'll find the Oakland guys are jumping back on the pile trying to jam a finger into someone's eye or just kicking wildly with their cleats."

The Wesleyan Jazz Combo

Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but if you dance to music that only you can hear, other people look at you funny.

It works out better if music accompanies your dance, and it also means that others can dance with you. The accompanying instruments give shape and form to the dance itself; the tempo, rhythm, harmony, and melody guide the movements of the dance. Sure, you might have “a song in your heart” that accompanies your dance, but I’m working a metaphor here.

The metaphor involves a jazz combo, a lead instrument and a rhythm section. The drum set energizes the dance with a swinging rhythm, the bass lays down an upbeat groove, and the piano slaps in some funky chords. With the rhythm section rocking, the lead instrument comes in with the tune and we’re dancing!

So let’s say that the dance is our spiritual life, and the instruments that accompany the dance are the resources that we use to give shape and form to it. Comprising the rhythm section are reason, tradition, and experience. The lead instrument is scripture.

I included this metaphor in my ordination papers, in which I wrote the following.

Specifically, the tradition of the church is a historical measuring system for testing the authenticity of our faith. This does not mean that we do it this way because we have always done it this way, but rather that we acknowledge the debt we owe to generations of faithful witnesses before us whose work for the sake of God’s mission has afforded us the opportunity to be where we are.

But even a scriptural faith tested by the tradition may still be a dead faith if not enlivened by our own experience. In other words, faith has to be relevant, to make a real perceived difference in people’s lives.

And finally, it has to make sense in a reasonable way. This does not discount the supernatural by any means; surely God is capable of working miracles in every moment. But there must be a kind of common sense rationality to the faith that is confirmed in its interaction with other spheres of the human endeavor.

Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience comprise what Albert Outler called the “Wesleyan Quadrilateral,” four sources he identified in John Wesley’s theological process. But Wesley never considered these sources to be like four equal points of a geometric figure. Scripture is always primary, carrying the tune of the song to the accompaniment of the others.

Of course, it is possible to hear a hint of the tune if you listen closely to the rhythm section, and even figure some of it out. Just like it is possible to sense the truth of scripture in the mix of tradition, reason, and experience. To be sure, you can even dance to a drum solo!

But the fullness of the song is best expressed when the full combo is swinging, with the Scripture carrying the tune and reason, tradition, and experience grooving behind it.

Feels Like the "First Stone" Was Cast...

I hate blog entries that begin with, “I haven’t written anything here for a while…” so I won’t begin this one that way, although I certainly would have good enough cause.

Anyway…

I was at a Walk to Emmaus this past weekend, and it was about 92% wonderful. Unfortunately, the 8% that wasn’t wonderful was comprised of prejudicial comments made by some leaders of the weekend about people of other races and sexual orientations than themselves. Not all the leaders of course, but it was more than one person, and it happened more than one time.

And now I’m not sure what to do with it. Setting aside for a moment the question of whether such comments are appropriate for a follower of Christ at all, such comments are clearly not appropriate for a Walk to Emmaus, where the theme is all grace, all the time. The comments were made in informal times, not in any of the official programmed moments, but still they dulled the colors of the weekend somewhat.

There’s a stone on my desk with the word “First” painted on it. I got it at my Cursillo weekend, and it reminds me of Jesus’ teaching that only the one without sin is able to cast the “first stone” at another person. Well, it feels to me like the “first stone” was cast this weekend. The word “homo” was used in a derisive and scornful tone, intended to evoke laughter from the group. There were several snide remarks about “that rainbow group” that were intended to compare the Emmaus logo to that of the gay rights movement in a negative and judgmental way. There were several negative comments directed toward Hispanic immigrants, and racially charged comments about “the hood” that were intended to stereotypically portray African Americans.

I confess that I was stunned into inaction, and I should have spoken up right then. But truthfully I was so caught off guard that I couldn’t think of what to say. It was just so unexpected to hear at a weekend like that, and I didn’t want to add to it by drawing extra attention to it, I guess. I decided to let it go and come at it from a positive angle instead by emphasizing as often as I could that God’s grace is there for all, even for us.

Other than those isolated comments, the weekend was wonderful. I loved being able to make some new friends, to offer spiritual guidance to some who are working through some spiritual issues in their lives, to be present and pray with a man who rededicated his life to Christ on Saturday night, and experience the Christian community in action. In no way shape or form do I believe that these comments are a reflection on the Emmaus community as a whole or the Show Me the Way Emmaus group specifically.

And so I would especially like to hear the opinions of people who have been involved with Emmaus weekends, or Cursillo or Camino. What should I do with this? I think it needs to be followed up, but how exactly?

And (because I think it needs to be said again) please be respectful and gracious with your comments, not attacking anyone personally while affirming what you believe. There is a spectrum of beliefs about this topic, and it is possible for good and faithful people to find ourselves in different places.