Archive for the ‘Christianity’ category

Slow to Listen…Really Slow!

November 9, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                 November 9, 2016

                                    

Frank Luntz is a CBS new correspondent who has covered elections and done group interviews for two and a half decades. Last Sunday night 60 Minutes aired parts of an interview that he had with a mixed group of voters. Luntz left that interview a bit downcast because of the outrage of the group that communicated several things.

One of those key learnings he pointed to was that people don’t listen. That might sound simple and uncomplicated, and yet there’s a lot more behind it. He made the point that he lost control of the group five minutes in. People wanted to talk, but people didn’t want to listen. The presidential election simply mirrors that fact in our nation. People are slow to listen…really, really slow!

Another way of stating it is “I’m going to say something and you’re going to listen, but you, on the other hand, have nothing of value that I will listen to.

Luntz made this revealing statement: “People listen to anything that affirms themselves instead of informing themselves.” We’ve taken the Book of James statement to be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry (James 1:19) and reversed it. Now we are deafly slow to listen, NASCAR quick to speak, and unstably quick to become angry!

Social media has unknowingly encouraged this. Someone can spout off venom and not hang around to hear the reactions. It is easy and, in some ways, relationally shallow to speak on Facebook, and exit out before hearing the thoughts of others.

This slowness in listening runs through a variety of systems in our world. Parents don’t want to hear the concerns of their child’s teachers concerning his behavior. Students don’t want to listen to their teachers, who they have often written off as irrelevant. And sometimes teachers don’t want to listen to students who disagree with an idea or are slow in understanding what is being taught.

In the youth sports world there is a decreasing number of officials. One main reason is the verbal abuse that is heaped upon them by parents, coaches, and players. And think about it! A sports official is simply someone who is making judgment calls…rulings…on situations that occur in the midst of a game. A number of officials have been physically attacked in the midst of athletic contests in recent years.

We don’t want to listen to anything that we have decided we disagree with! We have become very skilled in not listening!

Yesterday my 8th Grade boy’s basketball team got waxed. We went into the game 4-0 and left 4-1. But, and here’s what I told them after the game, hopefully we learned from the experience. We didn’t leave the game talking about how bad the officiating was or what poor sports the other team’s players were. On the contrary, the game was well officiated and the players on the other team acted just as well as my players did. We just got beat…and we listened with our minds to what was being taught to us.

In the coming days may each of us strive to be quick to listen and a lot slower in speaking. We need that. Our country needs that. I’m hoping that when Frank Luntz does another group interview before the 2020 election he will be able to hear what is being said, not just a room full of disgruntled folk who have a lot to say and nothing to hear!

If you want to respond…I promise I’ll listen!

World Series Spiritual Revival

November 6, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                           November 5, 2016

                                   

Pastor Fred was shocked when he walked into the sanctuary of his church, the Northside Free Temple, and witnessed an overflow crowd. His congregation, which usually ran about 45 to 50 in attendance on any given Sunday except Easter, was jam packed with close to 200!

What was going on? His first thought was that it was November 6 and Daylight Savings Time had ended early that morning. In the past, however, any time people had a chance to move their clocks back an hour did not translate into more people in the pews on that Sunday. Now people were packed in like sardines! So many new faces he had never seen, and many that he hadn’t seen in church in ages.

Perhaps someone was having a family reunion in town and the whole family came to church as part of the festivities. Probably not, however, since he could see a handful of ethnic groups represented.

And there was his butcher, Clyde, who was number one in cutting up a side of beef but about as crass and crude as they come…and that was around Pastor Fred!

In the back he could see his long-time barber, Phil. Was this the Bears’ bye week or something? Phil was usually either in Soldier’s Field on football Sundays or planted in front of his TV. He even had a haircut named “Ditkut”, named after Mike Ditka!

Then he noticed a red-haired middle-aged lady sitting halfway back with a Chicago Cubs baseball jersey on, and it hit him! Were a lot of these people here because of what had happened last Wednesday night in Cleveland?

Edith Pride rushed up to him before he could get to the pulpit. “Pastor, isn’t it marvelous? I’ve been praying for a spiritual revival for our church for years and God has answered my prayers! Look at all these people seeking spiritual understanding and guidance! I’ll be praying that God will inspire you with his words that need to be said this morning.” Edith usually was of the opinion that Pastor Fred was uninspiring. In fact, a couple of years ago she had tried to gain a following to have him removed as the pastor. Any problem, any time someone left the church or stopped attending for a while, she blamed Pastor Fred. In her opinion “scapegoat” was part of his job description.

“Pastor, there are souls here today that are hungry to be brought into the Kingdom!”

“Lord,” thought the pastor, “save me from Edith!”

A family with four young children had been funneled into the third pew on the left. The young ones had matching t-shirts, all with a Cub on the front. The mom decorated her neck with a thin scarf that also sported the name of their city on it. The dad modeled a polo shirt with the Cubs logo over his heart.

“Could these people be here because of the Cubs winning the World Series?” It was starting to sink in.

The service started and Pastor Fred read the Call to Worship from Romans 5. “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into out hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. Amen.”

A hundred “amens’ echoed through the sanctuary, mostly from the new faces present. Gladys Watson came to lead the gathered saints in a hymn, “My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less.”

The singing was loud and sung with heartfelt emotion. The pastor thought he heard someone in the second row complete the phrase “My hope is built on nothing less” with “Rizzo’s bat and Lester’s arm!” 

      After the last verse Pastor Fred invited people to greet some people around them. He walked down to the family in Row 3.

“It’s good to have you with us this morning.”

“Thank you, Pastor! We had to live up to our promise.”

“What was that?”

“The wife and I both prayed to the Lord on Wednesday that if the Cubs won Game 7 we’d go to church on Sunday.”

“Oh, really?”

The wife resumed the explanation. “We figured that if we believed in God enough to pray to him about the Cubs, we should believe in him enough to come into his house.”

“Well, it’s good to have you, and it’s great the Cubs won!” He wondered how the part of the service where people shared their praises and concerns would go? He found out about ten minutes later.

“Are there any praises and concerns today?”

Edith jumped up like a turned loose spring. “I just want to praise the Lord this morning. I can just feel the Spirit’s movement in our midst. God is so good, and faithful!” Edith took her seat, smiling smugly.

A hand was raised in the back and Pastor Fred encouraged the person attached to the hand to stand and share with the congregation.

“Pastor, I just want to give God the praise for Anthony Rizzo. What a first basemen he is, praise the Lord!”

“And, Pastor Fred!” The voice came from the pew in front of the Rizzo-lover. “I got on my knees in the top of the tenth and unashamedly shouted, “Lord, if you are who people say you are I know you can move mountains! So I’m asking that you move the runners along so our beloved Cubs can win this game. If you do that for me I promise to be in church each of the next seven Sundays- one Sunday for each game of the World Series.”

The amens thundered through the congregation.

A smaller voice rose from the left. It belonged to a little girl who couldn’t be any more than seven years of age. “Pastor, I love the Cubs and I think God does too! And I think Kris Bryant is cute!”

There was laughter throughout the church, except for Edith! Her revelation about spiritual revival did not have the Cubs as part of the vision. She’d be talking to the deacons this week about repentance and getting right with the Lord.

The Cubs’ spiritual revival sharing went on for another fifteen minutes. Everyone from Jack Brickhouse to Ron Santo was mentioned. By the end of the service Pastor Fred was beginning to think that this spiritual renewal, at least for one Sunday, WAS because of what happened four nights earlier. He started wondering if God could use the end of a 108 year drought to bring new life to a dried up church. One thing was for sure! He was going to the nearest department store and buying a World Series Champions t-shirt. He might even wear it under his suit and tie next Sunday.

Go Cubs Go!

“If Men Were Angels…”

October 27, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                          October 27, 2016

                                         

The time in American History around and after the American Revolution fascinates me. The founding fathers, often portrayed in our time as a harmonious patriotic rowing team, synchronized in all of their thoughts and actions, were often at odds with one another. There was dislike and animosity that had to be contended with. Several of them had their quirks. Alexander Hamilton, a part of George Washington’s cabinet at the age of 25, was a genius and also hard to live with. John Adams was the first Vice-President, not because he was Washington’s running mate, but rather because he finished second on the electoral votes of the United States Senate. The assortment of personalities and backgrounds made this first group of leaders resemble the diversity amongst Jesus’ disciples.

And this group had the important and difficult task of devising the government that would bring unity and direction to the new nation! They came from British backgrounds. It was what they knew, and for some the first president was to be like the English monarch. For others there was great fear that the new president would simply be another king, just like the one they had just gotten unchained from! Every legislation, every proposal was scrutinized. Even the design of the presidential residence and the Congressional building were subjects of debate. There were fears that the size of the president’s residence would convey royalty. It was not to be to big or to small. Like the chairs of the three bears, it had to be just right! The same thought went into the size of the property around the Congressional building. It needed to be at a distance from the residence and an appropriate amount of land around it. In other words, our founding fathers were just as concerned about looks as they were about principles and structure. They believed that they had to get it right the first time!

James Madison made the comment repeated often, “If men were angels there would be no need for government!”  But, of course, men were not angels and therefore there was an urgency for a government of the people by the people for the people.

It is obviously no different today than it was 230 years ago. As time has gone on the Constitution and government system of checks and balances has often been blurred by political interests and power hungry politicians. Getting our government to put all the oars in the water at the same time, rowing in the same direction, is now more of a coincidence than it is a strategy.

“If men were angels…” Well, our cynicism scoffs at that statement as we enter the last week and a half of the present election. Some of us remember that there are the heavenly hosts and there are the fallen angels, and we’re leaning towards the second type becoming a little more visible these last few months.

The Hope In Suffering

October 24, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                        October 24, 2016

                                     

    People say that I’m more of an optimist! I can see the silver lining in just about any situation. If a flight I’m on gets delayed I think about the fact that the flight attendants will probably give us an extra mini-bag of pretzels during the flight. When my 7th Grade football team got beat 42-2 in a game this year I replayed in my mind several times the play where we scored the two point safety.

So it fits that I’m able to still stay the optimistic course when it comes to suffering. A week ago my friend, Greg Davis, passed away. I led his funeral service on Saturday. During the course of the week I had some heart-wrenching conversations with his family. It had been a six year journey with cancer. Even in the midst of the grief Greg’s wife was able to say that they had come to experience the hope of God.

During the service I read Romans 15:13, a verse that Greg had underlined in is Bible. It reads, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” In the journey with the uninvited passenger of cancer the Davis family discovered that God is hope. Granted that discovery was paved with a multitude of tears, countless moments of confusion, and a list of questions all beginning with why, but they slowly arrived at the village of Hope.

Greg’s journey paved the way for other conversations I had last week with other people about being a follower of Jesus and the uncomfortableness of suffering. Some tainted theology emerged from people’s minds. Simply put it said what is the use of following Christ if he doesn’t protect you from things like cancer. If Jesus isn’t a lucky charm warding off evil, accidents, and illnesses why follow him? Great revealing questions that evolve out of a person’s real motives, that being “What will Jesus do for me?” People are always more comfortable with Jesus as a savior, but Jesus as Lord is not nearly as agreeable.

What Greg and his wife Jordan discovered is that God walks closely beside us. Following Jesus is not like having a rabbit’s foot in my pocket, but rather knowing that he is with me in the valleys, not waiting for me on the far side of the valley. It’s knowing in the depths of my soul the truth of that verse in Psalm 23, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4)

     Times of suffering are a part of life as much as times of delight. The hope comes in knowing that the love of God is constant and pure, a mighty shoulder to cry on and a hand to lead me on. The only person who enjoys pain and suffering is a masochist, but when the agony of life makes a stop on the front steps of where I live it gives me a peaceful assurance knowing that the Good Shepherd is standing beside me as I open that door. And that isn’t optimism, but rather heart-felt belief!

When Your Friend Passes On

October 23, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                           October 23, 2016

                               

Yesterday I officiated at the funeral service for my friend, Greg Davis. “Officiated” is an interesting word to use in this context since Greg and I have been basketball officials for years. In fact, I think that’s how we first met…being a part of the same high school basketball officials’ group.

Then we discovered that he was teaching at the same middle school that my youngest daughter attended…then we discovered that he had been on the summer staff at Black Forest Baptist Camp…then I discovered that he had been raised in the First Baptist Church of Sterling, Colorado, another American Baptist Church! It was a series of discoveries that forged a deeper relationship.

Then the cancer was discovered!

Then I became his pastor!

Greg and Jordan had exited the church they were a part of and, to put it bluntly, they were done with church…an organized church, that is! I noticed that they still had a support group of friends who had exited the church scene along with them, and this group was on an unusual faith journey together.

Then about a month after his brain tumor was discovered I entered our sanctuary one Sunday to begin the worship service and was surprised to see them sitting in a pew on the right side about four rows from the back. Cancer has a way of putting things in perspective for a person. The church I pastored became a safe place for them to ask God the hard questions, a place where they could ask for prayer and have the congregation gather around them…literally!…lay hands on them and pray! They relocated as time went on to the left side of the sanctuary about five rows from the front and many Sundays Jordan would share the latest news of Greg’s MRI or oncologist appointment. I would see Greg sitting beside her and weeping. When I retired from the pastorate at the end of 2015 it was gratifying to see my former church continue to journey with Greg and Jordan through many difficult days, and they will continue to be a support system for Jordan and Kayleigh in the days ahead. She knows that she is not alone.

Yesterday was an emotional day for many people. The sanctuary was full of family, friends, teaching colleagues, and church folk. I found myself riding the roller coaster of emotions as I sat on the platform and then while I was speaking. I’ve presided over probably 150 funerals in my years of ministry and I rarely get emotional during them, but yesterday was different. As I thought about it last night it occurred to me that my flood of emotions may have been connected to the six year journey I had traveled with Greg, a road that was filled with as many praise-filled occasions as gut-wrenching test results.

The funeral was two hours of laughter and tears. One person commented to Greg’s parents that he had never laughed so much at a funeral. That’s good! Laughter is the sugar cube in a cup of tears. People laughed at the sharing of some of Greg’s old sarcastic comments and his brothers’ sharing of past stories, and people cried as his nine year old daughter read the letter she had written to her dad after he passed.

Death is harsh. It will hold hands with each one of us whether we are willing or reluctant. As I told those at the service yesterday, for the follower of Christ it is a confusing blend of grief and joy. There is deep sorrow over the physical departure of the person and a simmering joy because of his eternal relocation.

I miss my friend, and I’ll continue to miss him. In a very weird way one of the blessings of friendship is the sorrow of loss.

The Dangers of Freely Thinking

October 12, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                     October 12, 2016

                

With four weeks until the election it seems that more stuff is being thrown back and forth than a high school cafeteria food fight. Social media, such as I’m using, spreads the drama quickly. Every day we are bombarded by new revelations about the past. Accusations meant to discredit and humiliate are the norm. How candidates deal with health care, foreign policy, education, and all the other issues has been pushed back to the end of the program guide. I have a hard time remembering where each candidate stands on such issues in the midst of email scandals and locker room comments.

There are Trump supporters, Clinton supporters, Johnson supporters, Stein supporters, a growing number of people who keep hoping that a knight in shining armor will ride on to the scene in the nick of time, and still others who are praying that Jesus returns before November 8!

This may be an election where there are more people a little embarrassed about who they finally choose to vote for than those who proudly proclaim who it is they support.

What I’ve also noticed is the danger of freely thinking. In the past few days my college alma mater, a small Christian college in Elgin, Illinois called Judson University, has had people throwing Facebook comments back and forth about the fact that Dr, Ben Carson is scheduled to speak on campus in the spring. Some of the words written had the commentator reaching down into the gutter and getting a handful of that really disgusting and foul-smelling mud and flinging it towards the school’s administration. How could an educational institution allow someone to come and speak who has been supportive of Donald Trump?

I remember a number of years ago when colleges fought the fights of being places of free thinking. There is great danger that the winds have changed directions in regards to that. It seems our culture is enamored with hearing what we agree with more than different ideas, and throwing sharp verbal jabs at those who hold other viewpoints.

The election is just the latest of these contentious battlefields. I wish I could say that the followers of Jesus have been different, but alas…

Christians are often the worst! Many of us have mastered “sanctimonious spiritual language” to belittle those who we disagree with. “How can you call yourself a Christian and…” It used to be that you finished the phrase with things like “…drink a Budweiser?” or “…wear a skirt that short?”  Then things changed a little bit and we ended the sentence with issues or life situations like “…say that abortion is okay?” or “say that divorce people can get remarried?”

In recent years it has changed again. Now the accusing question gets completed with words like “…say that you are voting for ______?” or “be willing to even listen to what he/she is saying?”

In a time when the church could be a safe place to express different opinions it has taken on the appearance of political preferences. There’s more free thinking happening at Starbucks than the coffee fellowship time in most churches.

What would Jesus do? I’m not sure, but many of us are hoping that he will come back and tell us real, real, real soon!

Conversing With A 5 Year Old Evangelist and Her 18 Month Old Sister

October 8, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                 October 8, 2016

            “Conversing With A 5 Year Old Evangelist And Her 18 Month Old Sister”

Yesterday was “Watch the Grandkids Day!” since our teaching daughter had meetings at her school. It was an experience of gospel and giggling!

Reagan, a highly-verbal five year old, was up and ready for conversation when I arrived at 7:45. Her 18 month old sister, Corin, was also chowing down on mini-waffles as I entered the room and immediately offered me one. When I took a move to accept it she withdrew the offer…and redirected the waffle to her mouth quickly!

Denied!!!

As I sat on the couch Reagan started sharing the gospel with me, using some “gospel block” creation to explain the steps to getting to heaven.

“Granddad, this is the cross! Do you know who that is who is on the cross?”

“Jesus?”

“Baby! Baby! Baby!”, came the voice of Corin directed at me while pointing to a babydoll in a stroller.”

“Yes! That is Jesus, Granddad. Do you know why he is on the Cross?”

The 18 month old walked up at that moment with a hat in her hand. “Hat!”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Hat!”

“He died for our sins, Granddad!”

“Yes, he did.”

The toddler was not yet impressed by that truth. She had discovered one of her brother’s Hot Wheel cars. Jesse was still in upstairs slumber, unaware of the fact that Corin now was prancing  around with his Mustang.

“Car! Car!”

“Yes, that’s a car!”

“If you want to go to heaven, Granddad, you need to believe in Jesus…okay?”

My mind was spinning like an NFL head coach fielding questions from all parts of the press room after a game. The Mustang went thundering across the wood floor, followed closely by a squeal of delight.

“Do you know what this is, Granddad?”, asked Reagan showing me another side of the gospel blocks. “This is heaven. It’s bright and sunny, and people don’t have to wear shoes.”

“Socks! Socks!”, clarified the waddling blonde pointing at the red socks on her feet.

“Yes, those are socks, Corin!”

“Good people go to heaven, and bad people go to hell, Granddad!” I did not want to straighten out the kinks in her theology at 8 A.M., and was a little taken back at her matter-of-fact usage of the word men fling around freely to make a point about their opinions and actions, or in disturbed confusion about something that has just happened…”What the hell!” And now my granddaughter had guided it naturally into her gospel presentation!

“Juice! Juice!”

“You want some juice, Corin? Okay, just a minute!”

“Someday you can go to heaven, Granddad!”

“I hope so, Reagan!”

“…if you believe in Jesus!” There was doubt in her tone! Later on I could envision her doubting my citizenship in heaven because I refused her request for a mid-morning bowl of ice cream! Her evangelism had not yet differentiated between saying yes to her requests being different from saying yes to Jesus. Jesus went to the cross for her, so wouldn’t I at least go to the freezer?

The Going Into Church

October 2, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                           October 2, 2016

                                    

I’m about to go to Simla on a beautiful Sunday morning and worship and speak to the small gathering of God’s people at First Baptist Church.

Notice my language…”going to!”

In recent weeks I’ve been asking the congregation some guiding questions about who they are and what they are about. Without roping them like calves I’m seeking to lead them to the point where they are “a going church!” In essence I’m seeking to add two letters to their mindset about their church…from “going to” to “going into!”

It’s a challenge that most churches face. I compare it to businesses being mall-based versus amazon.com. Amazon came to me yesterday…on-line…and gave me a free Kindle book which I’ll read on an upcoming vacation. Amazon comes to me. I haven’t been to the mall in about six months. It is to imposing to me…parking, lines, trying to find one thing in the midst of hundreds of things, over-priced food at the mall food court! The last time I went to the mall was to get new “Roundstreet and Yorke” dress shirts at Dilliards during their annual Clearance Sale. It took great shirts that were marked down 50% from the already 60% off price tag to get me to go to the mall.

That is also the mentality of most people about church. It takes a Harvest Festival or a kid’s basketball program to get many folk to go to church. The language of the church, therefore, needs to be shifted to “going into.”

It’s interesting that the first church in Jerusalem, according to Acts 2:46-47, met daily in the temple courts, and they broke bread together in their homes. They had that “church connection” in the temple courts…although it was a bit different than our present day idea of what that means…and they met in the homes of the city. An important part of their faith was spent where people lived.

Last Sunday while I was at Simla my wife visited a new church that just recently launched. It is within walking distance of our home. She knew about it because our area has been saturated with signs stuck into every corner…right next to the “Vote YES for D20 Kids” campaign signs that deal with the new school bond issue. At this new congregation, meeting in a high school auditorium, she was taken back by the dominant point that the pastor was focused on…that if each person invited someone else to come the next Sunday, and someone else new the next Sunday, and on and on…then this new church would be the largest church in the city in a year. He seemed to be fixated on that, which still flowed out of the old mindset of getting people to go to church!

Scripturally, the body of believers…the followers of Jesus are to go into the world. If we trust that God knows what he is doing then we will understand that he will bring people into our lives, or has already brought people into our lives, who we can reflect Jesus to. It doesn’t have to be forced or manufactured. We don’t even have to have a pocket full of spiritual tracts to hand out. Reflecting Christ can simply flow out of our intimacy with Jesus.

It’s kind of like my face at the end of football practice each day. I leave practice and go to the store where I encounter someone I know. My friend says something like “You got some sun today, didn’t you?” I don’t have to say to him, “Did you notice that I got some sun today? Do you know what that means?”

The Going Into Church uses language that flows out of life and relationships. Kind of like what Jesus did!

Angry Church People

October 1, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                     October 1, 2016

                                   

The cell phone game, “Angry Birds”, got turned into a movie this past summer. Angry birds flying into pigs has been a big seller!

Something I’ve noticed over the years are “Angry Church People”- people with anger issues stomping through places of grace because other church people want to be loving and kind to those that even Jesus would have a hard time putting up with.

Angry church people take advantage of the grace of God’s people, but angry church people have a real gift for keeping the church from focusing on its mission and purpose.

Years ago my friend in ministry, Dr. Mark Sommers, who now pastors in the Syracuse area, came to see me at the church I was a staff person at. On Fridays an eighty-plus year old woman staffed the office. I’m not sure I ever saw her smile in the year and a half I was there. Every couple of months she would stand in front of the congregation and lambast them about needing nursery volunteers. On one Friday morning Mark came to see me and was greeted with these words as he entered the building and headed towards the office:

“What do you want?”

    It was said in the most unwelcoming way possible, as the elderly receptionist looked at him with a frown and skepticism. Thirty-five years later when Mark calls me I answer with those words to him and we chuckle about that memory. The thing is…this lady had issues in other areas of her life. Her anger towards life got poured on to those she met at church.

Let me be clear! We all have issues in one way or another, but angry church people is an area that leaves people shaking their heads about the purpose of the church. When they hear the words “Grace Church: Loving God, Loving People”, and then get assaulted with a verbal bombshell about keeping their child quiet in church it becomes very disillusioning.

Angry church people shoot the message of grace and forgiveness in the foot. Like geese scattering in the air because of a predator in close proximity, people in need of hope scatter from churches where they’ve been treated as hopeless.

How did Jesus relate to angry temple people? He stayed focused on truth, never swayed from it. The law keepers used their religion as a sledge hammer. Jesus told them about his Father who was more concerned with people experiencing God’s love rather than who left the toilet seat up!

Angry church people are often very willing to be in leadership so they can use that sledge hammer of power and bitterness. Sometimes they push their way in because there is a vacancy where they can ease into power. Perhaps a template for leadership in the church should be Philippians 2 where Paul talks about a servant who considers the needs of others above their own. That might create a number of unfilled vacancies!

Angry Birds was a multimillion dollar seller. Angry church people is a multi-million person turn-off, and it isn’t a game!

Bottom lion, angry church people need Jesus!

My Road To Simla

September 25, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                      September 25, 2016

                                     

Sunday mornings have become a favorite time of mine, not because I’m able to sleep in or make flapjacks in the iron skillet, but because I get to travel down the road to Simla.

Traveling to Simla is synonymous with finding rest and being at peace. I go to Jackie Landers for a body massage. I travel to Simla for a massaging of my spirit.

Quite frankly, when I retired from the pastoral ministry last December after 36 plus years I was fried crispy. I did not do self-care well. Not many pastors do! I came to dread Tuesdays because it signaled the beginning of another six day week filled with meetings, crises, obligations, and church drama. Doing pastoral ministry is like taking a daily vitamin, but at some point the bottle becomes depleted and you can sense the gradual loss of vitality and purpose.

After stepping away at the end of 2015, Carol saw the difference in me within the first couple of weeks. She saw what I could not see…the slumped shoulders perking up again, the laughter and joy, the lessening of the hurrying.

And then in February I took my first drive to Simla, a forty-five minute ride into the eastern plains of Colorado on a two-lane road…passing by Peyton, slowing down for the 35 mile an hour speed limit through Calhan, and skirting the edge of the spot by the side of the road called Ramah, and then arriving at the village of Simla.

On the drive I ponder, pray, listen to Garth Brooks, think about the Sunday message, hum to myself, and sip on my third cup of Starbucks coffee. As I get closer to Simla and First Baptist Church my “happy meter” keeps moving to the right. The twenty people or so that will be there each Sunday morning are like pastors to me. They minister to my wounds, soothe my doubts. Thelma and Kathleen brought me a dozen ears of corn from their farm a couple of weeks ago. Ray and Laura open the building and talk me up upon my arrival. John and Angie and their two kids, Lou and Lena, bring me chuckles. Henry and Mildred, 89 and 90, are the senior components of wisdom and church history. Elizabeth, and her young son Eric, offer kindness and care. John and Sherri always remind us to pray for our country. Each person brings something to offer and is offered the ministry and community of the Body in return.

And as I pass by Ramah I anticipate the blessing of what is about to happen.

At this point the Simla church can’t afford a pastor. My friend Steve Wamberg and I fill the pulpit each week. It has become a dance that we thoroughly enjoy. The coffee after worship is exceptionally weak, but the fellowship amongst the saints is strong. No one seems in a hurry to beat the Methodists to the restaurants, since there are very few Methodists in Simla and the only restaurant in town, the Hen House, never seems to have much of a crowd.

When I drive home from Simla I always feel emotionally uplifted, spiritually nurtured, and ready for the week ahead. In some ways I’ve rediscovered the value of church for my life. It may have taken my being at a different life point for that to happen, but I’m thankful for where I am.

Sometimes it simply takes a 45 minute step away from what has been to rediscover what still is.