Words from WW Blog

 “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.” (Matthew 13:45-46)

I like “things.” Things that are cool and innovative, things that are shiny and are advertised on TV and Facebook, things in garage sales and department store display cases, things that I don’t have that are popular that i would probably just use once and stick in the closet.

I would say that most of us like “things”.

It seems like things have become a thing in our culture. Most of our days are spent focused on things, such as laptops, cellphones, apps, whatever moving vehicle we’re enclosed in, and what the price of an airline ticket to Europe cost. Ideas, concepts, and debatable positions have even become things.

I’d venture to say that “Things” have become the new god. People wrap their lives around them. I mean, Taylor Swift is an excellent musician, but the amount of money people were spending to see her do a concert…I mean, WOW! And the fervor of being there, the heightened emotions…it was the equivalent of a trip to a holy place. What am I saying…the emotions were more intense than a shrine visit!

We’ve become a culture that worships things and experiences and yawns at God. He doesn’t have the smoke, glitter, and hype of what our culture has been mesmerized by.

It’s not His fault. His people have done that to Him. We’ve become Puritans in church and passionate pursuers of “stuff” outside of church. The idea of entering into His Holy Presence has become so foreign to our existence that the implications are lost on us. We’re like clueless middle school students, faces buried into their cell phones.

For many of us, we’re stuck. We don’t know how to break the cycle of credit card debt, a never-ending schedule of kid’s athletic contests (and practices to get ready for the contests), the latest political debate between lunatics, and the “things” we’ve allowed to push God out of our schedules.

In fact, that last “thing” may have been more revealing than I intended it to be. We’ve begun to schedule God moments, instead of walking with God. We fit Him in on Sunday for an hour or so.

It’s interesting that Jesus uses a “thing” to represent the priceless nature of the kingdom of God. The pearl of great price was worth more than the combined value of everything else. Jesus indicates that the man who found it began a process of getting rid of (selling) all his other possessions and then buying the discovered pearl.

I’m a work in progress. I can’t imagine selling all of my stuff for one thing. I’m grappling with the commitment to my Creator that is so integrated into my life that I’m willing to part with all of the other stuff. My culture tells me I’m looney. My soul whispers to me that I’m onto something that is too important not to pay attention to. Perhaps I’m being nudged to consider what it is in my life that I worship and what, in my life, is just part of me?

What do you think?

^” Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.” upon (1 Corinthians 12:27)

A pastor friend of mine told me of a different kind of church growth that has been challenging his church. Most churches would be singing hallelujah at the addition of another 30-35 people joining with the other saints.

Sometimes, however, those who become a part of the body of Christ are more like church refugees. That is, there has been some kind of trauma that has found them treading the path toward the new church. They’re spiritually homeless looking for a place to rest their weary souls.

Our nation can attest to the challenges of masses of refugees descending upon us and trying to figure out how to deal with the influx? Churches are simply smaller versions of that, with the added element of being faith communities. Of course, our history as the church of Christ has its inception connected to a mass of people coming into it shortly after the Day of Pentecost, when 3,000 people became Christ followers and were baptized. That event must have been spectacular. The new church had to adjust in many ways. They didn’t plan on a financial campaign for a building addition (There was no building yet!) or going to two services, but rather how were the needs of all these new people, including a number of widows and their unique situations. going to be met? There was a heightened dependence upon the Holy Spirit (Another new element of their organization’s unique functioning.) to lead them, and to show them how this was going to be solved.

My pastor friend also quickly brought the Holy Spirit into our conversation. He is leaning on the Spirit, trusting the Spirit, and knows he can not navigate this sudden church growth without the Spirit.

You see, the church refugees that showed up in the community of faith he leads came from another congregation whose pastor announced one Sunday from the pulpit that there were some health issues going on and it would be his last Sunday. He was done, and with those words, the church was pretty much done as well.

How does a church welcome what is left of another congregation who are experiencing grief, confusion, anger, bitterness, and a loss of identity? How does an existing faith community minister to a group of believers who did not ask for their church to go through a sudden hospice experience? My pastor friend is wise enough to know that there may be more people sitting in worship on Sunday morning, but many of them feel like workers who have shown up for work on a Monday morning only to see a sign on the door saying their company has gone out of business. Suddenly, they are back to a beginning point. a job search, and the erasure of seniority. Those who were the key leaders of what was now have no influence, no power, and no say.

Unfortunately, the story is not unique. The pandemic necessitated that churches rethink how ministry is done, as opposed to how it has always been done. An incredible number of churches closed their doors, creating an enormous number of refugees. Truthfully, a number of churches were on life support before the pandemic. Covid-19 was the final factor that turned off the switch. Many of those from closed-churches have never gone back to church, any church. They’ve become displaced refugees who have found something else to take the place of the time commitment they had made to a faith community. The absence of in-person worship and ministry was too numbing for them. For others, they figured out that being a part of a church had been something they had felt obligated to do. In their mindset, closed doors freed them from the unwritten contract they had adhered to for so long.

Back to my friend’s church, he shared with me that his church is learning as they’re going. It’s resemblant of the reconfiguring of the first church in Jerusalem. The disciples (apostles) had been confronted with the problem of the widows of the Hellenistic Jews being neglected in the daily distribution of food. They pointed to the Hebraic Jews of the faith community as playing favorites. Some quick strategic planning by the apostles that put a care plan in place was enacted. It was one of those, “We’ve never done this before” moments that, I’m sure, was punctuated with mistakes and the asking for forgiveness, but things changed and the first church continued to grow.

My friend’s church has come to understand that it’s not about keeping people happy, but rather conveying in various ways that God loves the new spiritual refugees in their midst, and the church is committed to caring for them. Some will probably drift off to other places because the new place of faith is not like it used to be in their former place.

However, others will experience the heartwarming sensation of being accepted and loved no matter where they’ve come from.

 ^“Jonathan said, “Go in peace! The two of us have vowed friendship in God’s name, saying, ‘God will be the bond between me and you, and between my children and your children forever!’” (1 Samuel 20:42, The Message)

Carol and I recently took a road trip from our home in Colorado back to Michigan and Ohio. My sister and her family live at the southern-most tip of Ohio. My brother’s oldest son who resides in Maryland (and is finally a happy Baltimore Orioles fan) was also going to be visiting with his two children for one of the days we were there. So, it was a meaningful trip to see family.

But the other purpose of the trip was to see four old friends who have meant so much to me during my life. Two of those friends have had some serious health issues in recent times. Two of them had been middle school classmates of mine back in South Zanesville, Ohio, who I hadn’t seen since my family moved in 1969 to Ironton, Ohio. Facebook has allowed us to get back together, reestablish our bond of friendship, and reveal the health concerns that have become a dominant part of life.

Friendship is a blessed gift from God. It reinforces the relational longing that is a part of our created DNA. We were not created to go it alone. Some people may be more stoic, more reserved, but there is still a void within us that needs the nourishment of friendship.

In the Old Testament story of Jonathan and David, the reader senses the agony and sorrow that have become a part of the friendship of the two young men because of the jealousy of Jonathan’s father, King Saul. The two friends embrace and weep over the pain that has become a daily storm in their lives. They realize that things have changed and each of them by necessity is going their own way. 

When I embraced each of my midwestern friends after so many years apart, my soul ached for the various afflictions they’ve endured and are still experiencing. They are dear brothers who have found a residence within me. Who I am today has the impressions of their influences still appearing in the seams of my actions, values, and words. 

My eyes moistened on each goodbye. Each embrace brought back a flood of memories— basketball games, conversations, laughter and pranks. The reunions also brought regrets that had not been able to be there with each of them in their celebrations and, more recently, their struggles. 

And so I thank God for friends and, as anti-cultural as it sounds, I thank Him for the ache of friendship. 

“While Jesus was having dinner at Levi’s house, many tax collectors and sinners were eating with Him and His disciples, for there were many who followed Him.” (Mark 2:15)

Carol and I returned from a great road trip to see friends in Michigan and Ohio, and finally, my sister and brother-in-law, who live at the southern tip of the Buckeye State. My sister has a front porch, populated with three rocking chairs. As people drive by, they wave and often yell their names. Folk who are out for a walk are mentioned by name, followed by questions about how their new puppy is doing or has their arthritis been flaring up again.

Trick-or-Treat Night is a hoot, since my brother-in-law has had many of those who are coming by the house as students during his long teaching career. In other words, the front porch is a connecting place for them and their neighbors. It’s not uncommon for my sister to even hand out tomatoes from the garden to people who she feels will be blessed in a small way by the gift.

Behind their house is the back patio. There is a swimming pool that their seven grandkids use everyday in the summertime. The back patio is a private area, surrounded by a tall white fence. It’s where deeper conversations and revelations occur. The front porch is welcoming, but the back patio is engaging. It’s where relationships are deepened, problems are talked about, and unhurried listening happens.

The picture could be an analogy for today’s church and the people who frequent its pews or cushy chairs. Like my sister’s warm and engaging front porch, churches seem to be very engaging with those that pass by the doors. There are bright and well-done advertisements about coming festivals, chili suppers, and community concerts. There’s the planned effort to connect with those who are not a part of the community of faith yet. It’s a planned effort that is saying to the person passing by or the community around it, “Look at us!”

Jesus invited his disciples to follow Him. In essence, so to speak, Jesus’ invitation was for people to follow Him around to the back patio and enter into conversations about life and having purpose. He desired to engage with them about hope, peace, grace, and the love of God. The gospels tell story upon story of Jesus in deep conversation with those who were the uninvited.

In our culture today, it may take pomp and glitter for churches to get noticed, but the turning point for those who have been gifted with the Good News is to always be available for back patio conversations. It tells the passerbyer that the Christ follower is not passive, but deeply interested in knowing their life story, struggles, and their unanswered questions.

“Immediately his mouth was opened and his tongue set free, and he began to speak, praising God.  All the neighbors were filled with awe, and throughout the hill country of Judea people were talking about all these things. Everyone who heard this wondered about it, asking, “What then is this child going to be?” For the Lord’s hand was with him.” (Luke 1:64-66)

Friends of ours told us about the youth pastor that their church had brought on staff who had a stuttering problem. During his initial interview, the difficulty in speaking was brought up and talked about. There had been other positions in other places that the person had been immediately taken out of consideration for because of his start-and-stop pattern of communication. However, the interview committee of our friends’ church went deeper than words and took the time to discover the person’s heart and passion for ministering to young people.

His hiring has been a Godsend for the church’s passion for ministering to the young people of their community.

But God has a way of getting us to sense His direction…and then take us to another decision that tests the level of our commitment. The church, in unspoken ways, congratulated itself on the triumph of obeying the call of God in regards to their stuttering youth pastor.

It’s something we’ve all done. Patted ourselves on the back for the boldness that has usually been reserved for the heroes of motion pictures, or a segment of one of those special interest Paul Harvey stories from years-gone-by. We describe it as being the result of our obedient response to the leading of the Spirit or a result of our spiritual maturity.

But in the workings of the Almighty, this congregation was put in a position of having the stuttering pastor give the message one Sunday morning. Not just a devotional thought to the youth gathering or an opening call to worship, but the sermon of length and substance. In church life, the sermon is the main event…the culmination…the takeaway for the entire week. It is often the fodder for the table dinner conversation later on that day.

And now a guy who has a hard time completing a sentence without interrupting himself is going to be the conveyor of the “meat”.

Our friends said there was a bit of uneasiness that morning. It wasn’t the children who were squirming, but rather their parents.

And God then used the stuttering, sputtering youth pastor to speak deep truth to the auditorium that was filled with uncertain people. The stutter was still a part of the message. In fact, it was an integral part of the theme. His words reached down and touched the hard-to-reach spots of people’s souls.

In the glitz and fanciness of the Sunday church productions, rarely are there connections made with people’s souls. We may be impressed with the graphics and the harmony in the voices of the praise team, but it’s like watching a Major League Baseball game in late June. Since there are 162 game in the season, it doesn’t mean that much to us. After all, there will be another game tomorrow…and after all, there will be another sermon next Sunday.

Who can understand the ways of the Lord, and who can know the results of His leadings?

Some people might like to put a Benny Hinn-end to the story and envision that the youth pastor was cured of his speech problem that Sunday, kinda’ like Zechariah’s tongue being loosed at the birth of his son, John, in Luke 1. However, the youth pastor still stutters, but it isn’t seen as a limitation of his abilities, but rather a part of him that he has not allowed to limit him.

How often do we minimize the working of the Lord in our lives because of our lack of coolness, or because we don’t feel we understand some of the things that are said in the Bible, or even because of something that happened in our life that we feel we can’t be restored from? Even more than that, how often to we discount the value of others because they have some kind of imperfection that distorts their Ken-and-Barbie potential?

The things we allow to hold us back are sometimes the very things that God will use to bring glory to Himself.