Singing God's Praises

This morning I woke up early enough to feed the baby and to go for a run before I needed to be at the church to prepare for worship. It was a fantastic morning for a run - 43 degrees (cold enough to wear tights & gloves, warm enough to not feel frozen) - and the sun was just beginning to rise.  As it hovered just below the horizon, the sky began to change color, first subtly, then dramatically.

I was listening to praise music on my iPod: Robby Seay Band, to be specific, and the song Beautiful Scandalous Night.

I have to admit that I'm already very much in the swing of Christmas preparation - my prayer has been that Christmas will be a fantastic time of worship, of celebrating Jesus' birthday, both for me and for my church.

But the very thought of Jesus willingly giving his life on the cross, in the context of His birth in the manger, when in the beautiful colors of the morning, the rising sun in the background...

...it was almost overwhelming.

I am continuing to worship God and to sing His praises - O for 1000 tongues to sing my great redeemer's praise!  Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!!

Turkey Trot

This morning we rose bright and early to participate in the Columbus Turkey Trot . This was a great family event - not only did they have the five mile race, but they had a 2 mile "walk and talk" and a (free) kids' 100 yard dash (complete with t-shirts and medals and goodie bag).

Jonathan was so excited that he hardly could get to sleep last night - but he told Andrew, "try to go to sleep as fast as you can, because you'll need your energy for our race tomorrow!"

The kids' run was really well-done by the organizers, and our boys really had fun.  I ran with Andrew, and I gave Jonathan the option that he could run with us or run faster.  He chose to run faster.  Lickety split fast.  He was so proud of himself!

As for me, this meant a five mile race.  I'd never run a 5 miler before; I've run plenty of mile races, 2 mile races, 5K races, even a 4 miler once, a 20K, a half marathon, a 40K, and 2 marathons, but never a 5 miler.  There were tons of people there, so I made sure to get up front for the start.  I've made the mistake of starting in the middle or back before, and that isn't any good.

I went out a little fast (5:53 mile - 2nd fastest mile I've run in about 10 years) - it was downhill with the wind. I was on track that if it had been a 5K, I probably would have run my P.R.  The last two miles were a little rough, but I was pretty darn pleased with my 33:39 finishing time.  I was expecting about 35-37 minutes.

Not only was it a lot of fun, but it was for a good cause.  The run raised money for Easter Seals and they were also taking food donations for the United Methodist food pantry and used shoe donations for redistribution.  I was glad to have somewhere to give my used running shoes.

This was a great way to start my Thanksgiving!

Christmas is not your birthday: Monday Morning Reflections

I work pretty hard to write and deliver messages on Sunday mornings, and the two services we have are different enough that sometimes things don't translate well.  Sometimes I come out of first service saying, "Wow, that message was really jumbled." In fact, two weeks ago, I felt like I had mostly just read a series of unrelated scriptures and talked a little between them.  In those cases, I go back and look at the message and wonder, "Should I change things?  What can I change between services?" Then I go on to the second service and the message flows smoothly and naturally and people respond. 

To the exact same words.

Other times, there are lyrics in the hymns or special music in the first service that really set the tone for the message, and usually when that happens I talk about that and tie it in and it works really nicely.  Often little things work well in the early service, so I try to duplicate it in the later service, and it usually doesn't work.  Or something "funny" will get a good laugh in first service, so in second service I'll pause to let the laughter subside before I go on, only to hear the dreaded crickets.

Yesterday I felt like the message went well in both services.  Though probably Baby Jason stole the thunder: I talked about being a foster parent and how we just thank God for every moment we get with him.  I used the really-super-happy picture of him for that illustration, but during the first service, I went and got him and held him while I talked about him.

Yes, he almost made me choke up.  But he was so good and quiet and cute that I fear that some missed out on the thrust of the message, or the challenge that I issued.

The challenge isn't something that started with me; I got it from Ginghamsburg Church near Dayton, Ohio, who are doing phenomenal things in Sudan. Their call is this:

Christmas is not your birthday.  Celebrate your birthday on your birthday, but on Christmas, celebrate Jesus' birthday. 

We are using the same challenge, but our mission is Gracehaven House. Gracehaven seeks through Christian love, to provide shelter and rehabilitation to girls under the age of 18 who have been victims of commercial sexual exploitation, and to raise awareness among young women about the issue of domestic minor sex trafficking in order to educate them and equip them so that they can avoid becoming victims themselves.

We are asking the church to match whatever they spend on themselves and their family and friends this Christmas and to give that money to Gracehaven House, as a birthday present for Jesus.

This is an important time in the life of our church.  We have been doing a lot of disciple making, and disciples of Jesus Christ naturally transform the world.  So right now, we are where the rubber meets the road.  It all sounds great in a sermon and looks great on paper.  Let's see how it works in practice!

Life In My House

Is a lot of fun.

What Would I Want From My Pastor?

I have written several posts about pastor expectations - what people expect from (me) as their pastor - sometimes positive, often unrealistic expectations.  As I was thinking about this, it got me to thinking, "what would I want from my pastor?"

To be fair, I haven't "had" a pastor since 2001, when I left Kentucky.  I worked for two pastors, but they did not pastor me (and there is a big difference). I was in several churches before I was a full-time pastor, some with fantastic pastors, and all with positive aspects I'd like to emulate.

I grew up at Macedonia Christian Church, and I don't really remember much about anything that went on from the pulpit - most likely reflecting more on me than on our pastor.  I do remember that he had a good sense of humor, though.  And that's important.  It's important to me that my pastor not take himself too seriously.  True, the pastor's work is serious work, not merely life and death work, but eternity work.  But when a pastor takes himself too seriously, well, it's tough to relate to him.

Which brings me to the next church I was in: Chapel Hill Christian Church.  I wasn't there long (and was usually gone off to college), but I witnessed a change in John, the pastor who was there then.  His wife went through an illness and death, and John transformed. Some people get bitter and angry; John became much more focused.  I remember (as a high schooler) when he would rant at/about those of us who were sitting in the back.  But I also remember (as a college student) when he led our college group on Wednesday evening.  Part of what happened was he became someone who we could relate to.  But more than that, he could relate to God, and the way he related to us was God relating to us through him.

In college, one church I attended was my friend David's home church, and the pastor there (also named John) had passion for the lost.  Real passion to see people saved.  Passion to worship God in spirit and Truth. I want my pastor to have this passion.  It's not about doing a job, it's not even about growing the church, but about seeing lives/eternities changed.

Post-college, I joined First Presbyterian Church in Evanston, where I was impressed by Rev. Dave Handley's commitment to cross-cultural mission and ministry and his care for the marginalized and oppressed. 

While in seminary, I found Southland Christian Church, where Mike Breaux was the Senior Minister. I loved how I saw him treating his family and that he had boundaries and included self-care and regular play and exercise in his routine, all the while working really hard. He was a fantastic teacher and preacher who brought a relevant word, no matter how far along on your spiritual journey you were. He also shared glory - if something went well, he was the first to give praise to someone else, including his fellow ministry staffers as well as lay people.  I attribute this all to the power of the Holy Spirit - he was allowing the Spirit to inform him and to shape his messages.  This is the most important thing I want from my pastor: to be Holy Spirit led.  All of the other stuff isn't important if this isn't true. 

So, what would you want from your pastor?

Alone

Isn't this one of our biggest fears?  To be alone?  It's one of the things I have heard people talk about as they prepare for the inevitable; I just don't want to be alone. Maybe you know someone whose one wish is to not get "stuck" in a nursing home - alone.  I know that our church has several elderly people who are shut-in, and one of their sorrows is that they often feel like the church has forgotten them.  We are working to reverse this trend, but it's a real issue. This is a struggle for me as the pastor as well.  Pastors are already stretched to wear many hats; we wear some of them well and struggle with others. I received word (second-hand) that I didn't care about someone in a congregation I've served (because I didn't visit them enough).  The truth is that due to the size of the congregation, I myself cannot personally care for everyone like God does (and to be fair, I had visited them multiple times).  I've chewed on that word for a while, however, and this is one of the reasons why I am hoping our visitation team succeeds; that they remake (or build new) connections with those who are shut-in.

I wrote an article for our newsletter about loneliness and focused on these elderly (and mentioned our visitation team) and I got an e-mail from someone who isn't elderly but who is still lonely.  She is an active participant in our church, but she's had a hard time - in spite of being active, she is still all alone.

We did implement (bring back?) a "meet and greet" time in our morning worship services, and one complaint I heard was "we already greet each other; why do we have to have this greeting time?" But the unfortunate thing is that lonely people often aren't greeted in "informal" before-and-after service greeting times.  And then they are the worst kind of lonely: lonely in a crowd.

Being alone isn't by itself a bad thing - we should always take the time to be alone.  Even Jesus did this regularly. But all of us (even introverts) were made for relationship (as an aside, this is partially why Trinitarian theology is important - God is always a relational God, Father, Son, and Spirit, sacrificially loving one another).

There is a balance, because each of us can only be fully engaged in relationship with so many people.  I read a blog post last week and an article today that say that we can only be friends with 150 people (Dunbar's Number - popularized by Malcolm Gladwell, who we saw at Catalyst, in his book, The Tipping Point).  When we try to stretch this, it just doesn't work.

This has a big effect on church - there will be people who are on the fringes (for various reasons) - and part of the challenge is to integrate them into the regular life of the church.  So they won't stay alone.  Certainly there are some who come in and want to remain on the fringes; they want to come in  and check things out with no commitment (you see this a lot in large churches - you can't "hide" in a small church), but for most, it's difficult to be noticed and accepted.

And then, in the community in which they should be most loved and accepted, they end up alone.


My sister once lamented the reality of having to "break into" a church.  No, she's not a criminal (though her brother's nom de plume is "the Thief). Her point was that it's often difficult for someone who is new to a church to establish themselves as gifted and available.  Her experience came in the drama group in a church she joined shortly after college; though she's always been an excellent thespian (I was going to say "drama queen" but I didn't want her to take it the wrong way), but she couldn't get a part in their church plays. 

Involvement is one of the cures for being alone in a church setting, but what happens when involvement is eschewed?

And what happens when groups reach their threshold?  Though Dunbar's Number is 150, there are groups in which the maximum is 10 or 12.  We believe that cell groups are this kind of group, and when they grow beyond the threshold, they need to birth a new group.  But other groups can reach their threshold: I was in a praise band and when we got new members, we had a hard time accommodating them.  You can only have so many guitars playing on stage at once.  The church where I was accommodated the larger numbers (a couple years later) by forming multiple bands, each of which would play perhaps every third week.  I don't know how this works for practice - would all groups practice together?  Would they practice separately?  What about space and time issues? Etc.  There are definite growing pains.

And churches, by our nature, are supposed to grow. And when we grow, we reach thresholds.  Some have addressed this issue by coming up with satellite, video, and internet campuses.  Others have added services to their existing locations.  Others have planted new congregations. But all of these require sacrifice and change, which are difficult, especially because we often develop close bonds with people with whom we have been praying and praising, whom we have been supporting and encouraging.

The truth is that Jesus promised that he would never leave us alone; the Holy Spirit is always with us.  But sometimes this world can seem empty and lonely.