A Sense of Urgency

Well it's been while. My absence from this blog probably has more to do with my having too much on my mind rather than having nothing to say. Will Ferrell delivers a great line in the movie Blades of Glory: "Mind-bottling. You know, when things are so crazy it gets your thoughts all trapped, like in a bottle?" That's kind of how I've felt.

The good news is that most of my crazy, mind-bottling thoughts have been about Calvary. As Calvary's pastor, it's my job to think about our members, our future, and our faithfulness to Christ. And lately I've been trying to think better... so I've been letting others think with me.

In last Sunday's bulletin I asked the congregation to pray for six of our members. I'd rather not publish their names to the web, so if you missed the list, check the e-newsletter or email me. These six people -- which include me, four very diverse church members, and Bob, our local candidate for ministry -- make up what we're calling The Transformation Team. By the way, I'm open to suggestions on the title.

Bob is the moderator of the team, so I am free to simply be a member of it and have equal voice in it. The other members were chosen by the Session after I gave them an idea of what I intended to do and allowed them some time to pray about it. The team is reading and discussing a book called Pursuing the Full Kingdom Potential of Your Congregation by George Bullard. We've met twice and each of us have already been challenged by the ideas presented by the book and by God's Spirit. In short, this is already the most exhilarating and rewarding thing I've done in professional ministry.

Although these meetings need to be somewhat confidential to foster our honest communication, I do intend to share my thoughts on the process as often as I can when it relates to my own journey. And one of the first things I have been faced with is, why are we doing this? Since this was my idea, it may seem like a silly question. However, since my answer has changed at least a couple of times since first articulating these ideas, it's not a bad question too keep asking.

The short answer has always been, "Because I have a sense of urgency for my ministry at Calvary." I believe we all have a sense of urgency for our church and no two people's are exactly the same. Often our sense of urgency leads us down a path toward change, like if we see an absence of some demographic or a shrinking worship attendance or a desire to regain a former splendor. It's important to notice what gives us urgency in our church because it fuels our passion for ministry, it might explain why we're at odds with some of our siblings in Christ, and it may be the Spirit's way of nudging us. But it may not always be the best reason for congregational change.

A year ago, my urgency was about acknowledging the mistakes of my past in an effort to be the best pastor I can be. It was about me wanting us to be a growing, vital congregation. But in the end, it was really only about me. I wouldn't have been the first pastor to roll into a congregation with something to prove, but I'm glad God has given me a different sense of urgency. As I've begun to study with The Team, I've learned that the only sense of urgency that really works in the church is the urgency to be faithful to Christ's leading. All of those other things that get us moving in the life of the church may be true and honest reflections of who we are, but they need to take a back seat to the urgency of faithfulness.

So as I said on Sunday, please pray for the team; some transformational things are happening there already. Pray for our well being, the lessons we learn, and that we retain a faithful sense of urgency.

One Body, a Whole Lot of Parts

Now that Vacation Bible School has been over for a couple of days and I've had a chance to rest, I'm finally able to reflect on it a bit. I was running around from one thing to another all week, so I didn't have much of a chance to find a lesson in any of it. But now I do and the lesson I keep coming back to is the lesson of who we are as Christ's Body: each of those who helped to lead the program took their smaller part of it, as it fit in with their gifts. I led the games, for example, because I know how to do that. Something like crafts, on the other hand, would have been a mystery to me.

There are a lot of lessons to be learned here about how VBS is a parable for the church: how we all serve through our gifts toward one common goal; that it takes flexibility, patience, and forgiveness to work closely with the other members of Christ's Body; and that our diversity actually makes us more effective in the work we are called to do. I could probably extend that list out a bit, but it's that last lesson that interests me today.

I noticed something about those who led VBS last week: none of them were around my age. This is not a judgment, it's just an observation. Our VBS was led by the same types of people who lead VBSs everywhere: the members of Christ's Body who have the time to lead it, lead it. Generally, that means, unless you're paying me to be there, people my age are going to be at work. And as long as we remember to help with VBS by contributing financially, that still leaves two very qualified groups to actually run it: teens and retirees (or semi-retireed).

Now let that soak in a bit... Vacation Bible School happens mostly because two groups of people who have almost nothing else in common work together to make it happen. And that, my friends, is the beauty of Christ's Body at work. If our church was made up of only teens, or only retirees, or only those in the middle, VBS would either not happen well or it wouldn't happen at all. But because we can incorporate such diverse age groups, this ministry not only happens, it happens exceedingly well.

I believe this is also true in any other way one could categorize us demographically. The work of the Church is more effective because of our diversity: we are young and old, male and female, politically conservative and liberal; we each have our own personal histories, families and ethnic backgrounds; and let's not forget our multitude of various gifts and talents. The world around us tends to see this kind diversity as a problem to be solved, but in Christ it's the other way around. The only same thing among us all is that we each have been called to follow Jesus. Those things that make us different in every other way, only makes us serve him that much more effectively.

We are, in many ways, a diverse group; and for that I am thankful. And I am especially thankful this week for those in our congregation who are older, working with those who are younger, to teach the youngest of our community of the love of God in Christ.

Mother's Day Kids, Pictures and Clips

Here are some images and a short movie clip of our children during Sunday's Mother's Day worship service. Enjoy!

On the Road

I'm back in town now, after a brief road trip. I drove out to my parents' house in California. They were off to the desert in their Winnebago so I had the house to myself to read, pray, and write. So technically this was "study leave" and not a vacation (although, after being on the job for nine months, the time away was certainly refreshing).

I took this time in an attempt to think through our next steps as a congregation. Our life together as Christ's body is very much a journey: geographically, we remain connected to this place, but Christ continually calls us to new places both personally and as a congregation. It was, in a manner of speaking, a road trip to help us plan a road trip.

But one of the greatest temptations a pastor faces is to plan this trip alone. The way the thinking goes, "I am the pastor. I've read all the right books. I know what constitutes a vital church. I know how to listen for God's voice. Of course I know where the church ought to go." And of course, this turns out to be one of the most destructive things a pastor can do. It's destructive for a number of reasons, but the central sin is that it assumes an authority that actually belongs to Christ. So to mix the metaphor slightly, I am simply the conductor on this road trip of Christ's church. We each participate in discerning where God is leading us and how we ought to get there; my role in this is to facilitate this process and then holler, "All aboard!"

So this trip was not about me deciding how our church can grow or better meet the needs of this community; I don't know how we are going to do things like that and frankly I think it's too soon for me to start sharing those thoughts anyway. No, this trip was about working on a process that helps us think through those issues in an ongoing way. This journey was about me remembering that our life together is also a journey; a journey that is more productive and enjoyable if we take stock of where we're supposed to be going from time to time.

You will hear more about how that process is taking shape in the coming months, but I can tell you about one central element: this process is mostly about prayer. Prayer is how we intentionally seek God's vision for the ministry we've been called to embody. Prayer is how we plan for this journey and prayer is how we travel it faithfully. So please pray. Pray for me and pray for those who will lead us in this process. Pray for us as a congregation that we might honestly work through the anxieties that new journeys sometimes bring. And let us pray for the Spirit's clear leading to show us all the wonderful things ahead of us as we seek to follow Christ our Savior.


By the way, even though I'm back in town, you won't see me in worship on Sunday. No, I'm not ditching church because I have the day off. No, I'm not just lying low so that the guest preacher doesn't feel nervous (not that she would or should). And no, I don't need a break from you.

The reason you won't see me on Sunday is that I'll be spying: on Sundays when I don't have any responsibilities, I like to attend another worship service incognito. I highly recommend it. It gives us an opportunity to take notes on what other churches are doing (well or poorly) which helps us get a perspective on what we are doing at Calvary. In addition, I like to play "Secret Shopper" during their fellowship time. That's where I sit alone with a cup of coffee and see if anyone comes over to talk to me; the results are then passed along to the pastor. So if you are going to miss a Sunday, at least bring back notes.

Lenten Reflection, Holy Week

I'm always caught off guard by the term "Holy Week." It implies a consecration that this week certainly calls for, but may not always be tangibly perceived. We begin the week with waving palms and shouts of alleluias and, much like the first Palm Sunday crowds, we return to our ordinary routines on Monday. With some minor exceptions, I don't think I did anything on Monday of Holy Week that I didn't do the Monday before.

But that is an important facet to holiness: this is a week set apart for sacred use, and yet in many ways it doesn't seem different from any other. Of course it's holy because of what it represents and what it draws us to remember, not because these seven days are anything more than seven days. It's holy because of what God has done, will do, and is doing in, around, and through some rather mundane things. This week is holy in the same way that we are holy: it speaks more to the work of Christ than it does to our efforts toward holiness. We are not perfect, but we are perfected in him. You and I are no more or less than any other person on the planet, but at the same time we embody the same Holy Week message that points to the extraordinary work of God. We live these mundane lives from day to day as sacred signposts to God's grace.

Of course there is no small significance in the fact that the Holy Week events happened in the context of the Passover celebration. This sacred remembrance gives birth to and frames our understanding of this week, but in a deeper way so does the ordinaryness of these days. The work of God happens in the context of everyday life: our joyous celebrations, our daily grind, our mealtimes, our discord, our temptations, and even our mortality and our heartaches are all caught up in the salvation story. We look at the whole of Holy Week and we see that almost every moment of our ordinary lives gets caught up in what God is doing in Christ.

God's extraordinary mercy is exhibited in the midst of our ordinary days and through our ordinary lives. May we continue to find the holiness that God has placed on us in this and all our weeks.

Lenten Reflection, Week Five

Good news: Sherry decided to heat up a frozen pizza because I was off at a meeting and couldn't cook dinner.

Bad news: As she preheated the oven the house began filling up with smoke.

Good news: It was merely burning dog food. The next day I took the floor out of the oven and found it down in with the heating element.

Bad news: The dog food was put into the oven by mice.

Good news: I now have a new favorite metaphor for sin.

I know our house has mice. Now that I know it, the evidence is irrefutable. Those scratching noises that my son heard months ago in the walls of his room, are now more than just his six-year-old imagination. Those little black specks of something that I saw behind the stove when I was investigating the problem, are now clearly droppings. I know we have mice. I know it and I have never seen a single one of them.

I am disgusted by the thought of mice in my house; I want them gone. I've started taking precautions to discourage the mice like not leaving the dog's food out overnight. We've called the landlord who will be sending an exterminator. But I am aware that, more than disgusted, what I'm really feeling is violated. If the mice had tried to store the dog food anywhere else, I may not have ever been alerted to their presence. Fortunately, the mice had no idea that their happy-warm new storage area would cause their stash to catch fire. But I am troubled by the thought that they could have just as easily gotten away with it.

Of course the mice are the sin in our lives. The mice represent those things that should not be there. They need not always be the harmful things that we have invited in, but they must also be removed just the same. The problem is, they don't always cause our houses to fill with smoke. Often they go unnoticed by those around us and sometimes even by us. It scurries around in the darkness because, as Jesus said, it fears the light.

I'm not sure how far I want to extend the metaphor; I suppose God could be the Great Exterminator or something. All I'm really trying to say is this: as we near the end of the Lenten season, part of the value of these seasons is in shining light on our lives. We don't need a house filled with smoke to know that we may be living with things that shouldn't be there. So we take this time to let the Spirit illuminate the nooks and crannies of our lives. We let God "clean house," as it were.

Let us, in all the seasons of our lives, seek to walk in the light of Christ, in whom there is no darkness at all.

Lenten Reflection, Week Four

Here's how it works in theory: we reflect Christ more fully when we gather as the larger Church than we do as individuals. Individually we are created in God's image, loved eternally, and redeemed in Christ. But the work of Christ that we were created, loved, and redeemed to do is not fully realized until we find ourselves in the Body of Christ, the Church. In theory, we discern God's will better as a group. In theory, the Church holds its members accountable in practice and mission. In theory we are somehow less fallible as the Church than we are by ourselves. That's the theory anyway.

During many of my college years I worked at a Christian summer camp. These were some of my fondest memories and many of my closest friends today were people I worked with then. It was there that I first saw a clear image of Christ's Church. The camp was a refuge from The World for us and for the young people who were brought to us. Without our usual distractions and temptations, we could be more attentive to the moving of the Spirit. We were all followers of Christ, serving him with common purpose and celebrating his kingdom being built before our eyes. It is that kind of community of nurture and service that I strive to build in the church today. It was a illustration, for three months a year in an isolated spot in the mountains, of what the Church is meant to be. At least in theory.

In the office one summer, there was a guy named Bernie. Everyone loved Bernie because Bernie loved everyone: he was outgoing and cheerful, funny and generous. As I remember him, he was the life of the party even when there was no party. And to top it all off, Bernie had a car.

The camp was about a half-hour drive from the nearest town. Sometimes after work, we'd pile into cars and head to town to go shopping, get some pizza, or see a movie. The drive to town involved a curvy dirt road to a curvy paved road to a mercifully straight highway.

There were a lot of reasons why we drove too fast down those roads. Sometimes we were simply in a hurry. Sometimes we'd get to thinking we were so used to the roads that we'd conquered them somehow. Mostly we drove too fast because we were still dumb kids. At least that's what happened that night.

Bernie was in a joyous mood, as always. We piled as many guys into the car as Bernie had seat belts (at least we were that smart) and we headed down the curvy dirt road toward town. Bernie was driving too fast and we were all cheering him on. All of us were laughing and screaming like we were speeding down the tracks of a roller coaster. Only at one point, the roller coaster turned right and we found ourselves once again on a dirt road, sliding into a tree.

After a quick inspection we realized that we were, for the most part, not hurt. Of course Bernie's car did not fare so well. And what is etched into my memory, aside from the tree, is listening to Bernie call his dad to report the accident. Bernie took all responsibility: he alone dealt with the broken car and he alone dealt with furious parents. He wouldn't even accept our apologies for cheering him on. And even though he was behind the wheel and, as he put it, didn't have to listen to us, I don't think Bernie crashed that car by himself. I believe that, along with everyone else in that car that night, I helped to drive that car into the tree.

And therein lies the theory's fatal flaw. In theory, we are shaped more perfectly into the image of Christ as we gather as the Church. But in reality, we collectively drive Christ into trees all the time. In reality, even as the Church we are still only a collection of flawed individuals; redeemed individuals who are called by Christ to his service, but not perfect. In reality, discerning God's will and holding one another accountable in practice and mission don't just happen automatically. In reality, being that Christ-like Church involves our being perfected by Christ individually and our working with Christ in co-creating that larger Body.

May God shape us this season into more than good people. May God shape us collectively into the image of Christ in this world. Let Paul's words from Ephesians 4:1-6 be our prayer:

Help us, O God, to lead a life worthy of the calling to which we have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, ³making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. ⁴There is one body and one Spirit, just as we were called to the one hope of our calling, ⁵one Lord, one faith, one baptism, ⁶one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all. Amen.