Archive for the ‘Christianity’ category
July 10, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. July 10, 2016
We hadn’t connected for a while. I started with the excuses. “I’m sorry, Jesus, that we haven’t gotten together for a while. It’s just been so hectic and busy.” Busyness is always a good “go to” when you haven’t done something or neglected a certain person.
He smiled at me and invited me to sit down in the booth across from him. “How’ve you been?” I asked.
“Oh, you know…the usual…feeding the multitudes, healing the sick, raising the dead…same-o same-o.” We both chuckled a bit. “What’s been taking up so much of your time?”
I stammered through a list of poor excuses for busyness and then I confessed, “I really have no excuses for why I haven’t talked to you for a while. Perhaps what is really going on is that there’s some things in my life, and in the lives of some friends of mine, that are unsettling. A lot of it is my own poor choices, and some of it is…I don’t know…I guess I could call it a kind of cynicism towards life and some people.”
“So you thought if you talked to me you’d have to face up to what’s going on?”
“Pretty much! I’ve very proficient in the gift of avoidance.”
“So tell me why you suggested we get together again?”
“I’m not sure if it was my old Baptist guilt rising up, or realizing that I just needed this…to sit and talk with you. Maybe it’s a combination of a lot of different things…anyway I’m here and I’m glad we can talk over a cup of coffee.”
“I hope you know that I’m always free to chat.”
“I know, I know. I’ve never doubted that, even though lately it seems that I’ve had a tendency to turn away from it.”
“Cynicism tends to make us unsure of just about everything.”
“And I admit I’ve doubted just about anyone and everyone. I’ve doubted the truth of everything…especially, everything they’ve been talking about in church. I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”
“Do you believe in me?”
“You know I do, Jesus.”
“That’s a pretty good start, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but!” I didn’t know what to say after the but. I left it hanging in the air like a bad smell. Jesus looked at me with his penetrating eyes that could see what was in my heart and troubling my mind.
“Excuse me for making an analogy, but you’ve lost sight of the sun because of all the smoke. In other words, you’ve lost sight of me because there is so much of life’s chaos and fallenness that is clouding your vision.”
“Yes! All those things you teach and talk about…love, grace, forgiveness, surrender, faith, being salt and light…we talk about them a lot, a whole lot…but It seems like what I see emerging so often out of my life and the lives of others are things like hate, indifference, bitterness, a lack of forgiveness, trying to be in control, and selfish ambition.”
“You’re right!”
“Jesus, I don’t want to be right! I want to be changed and to see change.”
“And what are you willing to give up for that to happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you not see that the out-of-control condition that you’re describing is because there are certain things that you’re allowing to be?”
“I would be lying if I said I can see it, and yet, in my spirit I know the truth of it.”
“Your cynicism is a symptom of the battle that is going on inside you. You want to believe, but believing is risking, and then what if you’re wrong? What if you love unconditionally and then you feel things are as screwed up as they always are? What if loving one another ends up just being a bad joke? What if you surrender and then you discover it’s all just a crock of crap?”
“I hope not!”
“But you see, Bill, your cynicism in many ways is a safe place to be.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Jesus, love, Pastor, The Church
Tags: Belief, coffee, coffee with Jesus, conversations, cynicism, cynics, Doubt, Faith, faith conversations, indifference, Jesus, unbelief
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July 9, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. July 9, 2016
Lessley Ellis is my friend. We have close to nothing in common, which makes our relationship even more special.
Lessley is African-American. He is as black as I am white, a darker shade of his color that contrasts greatly with my blindingly white legs. We are brothers in Christ who see both the beauty and ugliness of the world.
Lessley was born in Detroit, the place often referred to when talking about inner-city poverty and crime. I was born in Winchester, Kentucky, a stone’s throw away from where Adolph Rupp coached the all-white University of Kentucky Wildcats basketball team.
The first time I met Lessley was on a Saturday morning at our church. We had just concluded our Saturday morning men’s bible study group. There had been a major snow storm just a couple of days before and the sidewalks around the building needed to be cleared. Several of us got snow shovels and started making a path. Suddenly a red Honda Civic hatchback pulled into the parking lot. Lessley hopped out of the car, popped the back and got a snowblower out of it. And then he just started to clear the sidewalk! The smile on his face was warm and sincere, and we thanked him for his help. One of us, probably Ben Dickerson, invited him in for a cup of coffee and then invited him to join us the next Saturday for breakfast and our bible study. I didn’t expect to see him again, but he surprised me and came back.
Ben Dickerson took him under his wing. Lessley could barely read. His education had been limited. He had been judged to be a “special education” case. In his words, “they treated me like I was a dummy!” By the ninth grade he was out of school. Ben Dickerson, a reflection of Jesus, started teaching him how to read. Another man, Roger Mollenkamp, offered him support and advice. When Ben passed away as a result of complications of a heart attack, Lessley grieved deep and long. We leaned on one another during those days, I grieving the loss of my friend as well. Our tears mingled together to form a pool of brotherhood, swimming in the confusion of loss. Grieving together takes people to a new place.
A few years ago a new family showed up in worship one Sunday. They came back the next week and then the next and became part of our congregation. A little later on I found out another piece of the story. The husband was ready to give up on church. They had visited several places and were ready to have their own family worship at home, but they decided to try one more place of worship. They came to a double-door entrance to our building that looks like it might be the front way in and they found the doors locked. The husband was ready to walk away and walk away from the church for good, and then Lessley opened the door and said “Good morning!” He apologized for the doors being locked and invited them in, offered to get them cups of coffee, befriended them, and turned troubled souls into joyful seekers. They came back all because of a smiling greeter who made them feel welcome in the time of their greatest discontent.
He was a “thrower” on the back of a garbage truck for years. That means, he’d empty the cans of people’s trash, hundreds each day! It destroyed his back, and he now receives a limited disability sum each month. His struggle is that he wants to help people, but his disability doesn’t allow him to do some of the work tasks that he always did. Many times the two of us have talked through his depression and discouragement that have pummeled his sense of self-worth.
Lessley has the heart of Jesus. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it. We had lunch together yesterday, along with our friend, Joe Smith. Towards the end of a week where black men were getting killed by white policemen, and white policemen were killed by a black sniper we talked about our screwed up world, and we talked about the hope we have in Christ.
He asked me what we could do, and we brought it down to where we live, what we say, and how each one of us treats others. The interesting thing that occurred to me was that although we sat there in a Mexican restaurant talking about racial tension we didn’t see any difference between the two of us. We didn’t see each other as being from a different race. To me he is Lessley, my friend, and to him I’m Bill, his friend and former pastor.
The three of us ended our lunch with warm embraces of each other. Perhaps the world is screwed up, but that didn’t mean that our friendships needed to be screwed up as well.
Some of the greatest blessings in life are relationships with people that we least expect to be our friends, salt of the earth folk who we’ve come to know in the most unlikely ways.
It’s funny! I’ve been blessed in so many ways by this almost sixty year old six foot three African-American man, all because of the crossing of our paths on a wintery Saturday morning after a snow storm and a bible study.
Like I said at the beginning, Lessley Ellis is my friend.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, love, Nation, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: black and white, brothers, brothers in Christ, Christian brothers, greeters, greeting, helping each other, hospitality, loving one another, race relations, racial tension
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July 8, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. July 8, 2016
Today I’m writing my 600th Words from WW blog post. It’s been an adventure! The first post emerged on December 30, 2008. There have been times of writing frenzy, like in June of 2014 when I took on a challenge that wordpress.Com presented of writing a blog post each day for the entire month. Plus, they gave you the subject matter.
I’ve written about death…greatly on my mind when my mom passed away Labor Day weekend of 2013.
I’ve written about grace…and how it so often is lacking, oddly enough, in the church.
I’ve written imagined coffee conversations with Jesus…stressing that things are not always so cut and dried as people think.
I’ve written about personalities…people who have greatly influenced my life in various ways.
I’ve written about how weird people are…or should I say we all are!
I’ve written about stories in Scripture and what they teach me.
I’ve written about the church…my hope for it, and my frustration with it.
I’ve written about life…normal life and life moments that have a sense of sacredness to them, like my daughter’s wedding and car rides with my granddaughter.
I’ve written from a stool at Starbucks, my home study, and a cubicle at the public library. There’s been many occasions where I’ve sat on my Starbuck’s stool, looking out at Pike’s Peak, with no idea what I would write about and then God gives me a thought, an idea, a moment of remembering something from the past…and the words tumble out. With my earbuds in, tuned to the Coldplay station on Spotify, I go at it.
And the thing is, I write and trust that God will take it from there. He’s like the paperboy for my blog. I trust that he hits the driveway to whomever he sends it to, and it doesn’t end up underneath the shrubbery.
A couple of weeks ago someone I least expected told me that she really enjoyed my “Words.” “It is so where I live!” she exclaimed. I greatly appreciated that. I’ve never been one for high academia, as my college grades would attest to! I’m more like “The Hardy Boys”, rather than “The Brothers Karamazov!”
One of my best friends suggested that I try to get money for my blog. He knows someone who does. My mind can’t fathom that. My writing is kind of like my baseball card collection. It keeps getting bigger, but I never sell any. I’m just thrilled that people seem to enjoy reading it. According to WordPress I have 128 followers. I’m not sure what that means, and, quite honestly, I don’t know ninety percent of them. How closely do they follow? Are they more like stalkers who are following me, or readers who are looking for a chuckle in the midst of a ho-hum day?
And so I write as I sip on my Pike Place brew. Perhaps someday I’ll be on The Today Show…not!
What or whom might be the subject for #601?
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Blog posts, blogging, creating, creative writing, followers, life events, living each day, Pike Place, readers, Starbucks, writing
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July 6, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. July 6, 2016
Dumb and Dumber was a dumb movie, which is what made it hilarious. Sometimes dumb is funny! Sometimes dumb is just plain dumb! One of my favorite baseball players of all time is John Smoltz. “Smoltzy” had a good head on his shoulders. He was well-grounded. But even Smoltz had a dumb moment. It happened one season when he decided to iron his shirt. The problem was that he was wearing the shirt when he tried to iron it. Not a bright moment in his career, but one that people will remind him of for a long, long time.
Speaking of dumb, the news has featured several examples of dumb things people do with fireworks. Dumb works overtime around the Fourth of July. The fifteen year old in Texas who was using two hundred sparklers will have to live with his “What was I thinking!!!” moment for the rest of his life. I saw a guy who decided to light an explosive that was halfway between a firecracker and a stick of dynamite…and put it in his Speedo! What??? Of course, someone was filming it, and I cringed when the little flame flared out of his front side! What was he thinking?
Wisdom and dumbness seem to be in two different camps, but they are camps whose residents have dual citizenship. I was reading about Solomon the other day, you know…the guy known for his wisdom! People would come from far and wide to be amazed by his wisdom and judgments. 1 Kings 3 tells the story of the two women who had infant sons, but one of the mothers rolled on top of her baby and smothered him in the middle of the night. She then took the baby from the other lady and put her deceased son beside her. The two women come before Solomon with their dispute. The mother of the child who was still living claimed that the baby was hers. The other mom said he wasn’t. Solomon decided to take the living child and slice him in half and give half to each mother. The real mother screamed not to do that, to let the other mother have her child. That sign of motherly love made it clear to Solomon who the real mother was. People were taken back by how he could figure out things.
We have a book of proverbs for further proof of his profoundness. He gives advice on parenting, wealth, work ethic, relationships, and old age. Dr. Phil can’t hold a stick compared to the wisdom of Solomon.
But Solomon decided to do a summer home in “Dumb!” For a guy who could solve problems he also created his own chaos, his own disaster! He was obsessed with women. I mean, it’s okay to be attracted to women, but when women were around Solomon he did stupid! Notice I didn’t say that he was stupid. Stupidity is a decision, and he decided to do stupid! God had told him, in essence, “Be smart!” Here’s what 1 Kings 11 says about it:
“God had clearly warned Israel, “You must not marry them; they’ll seduce you into infatuations with their gods.” Solomon fell in love with them (women) anyway, refusing to give them up. He had seven hundred royal wives and three hundred concubines—a thousand women in all! And they did seduce him away from God. As Solomon grew older, his wives beguiled him with their alien gods and he became unfaithful—he didn’t stay true to his God as his father David had done.”
The wisest guy on the planet and he couldn’t figure out the fact that living with a thousand women was not a good situation. I’m not the sharpest tack in the box, but I think I could have given Solomon some simple wise counsel about that one!
In a weird way Solomon’s dumbness gives me some hope. It is a bit reassuring. My residence is probably more in the subdivision of Dumbness rather than the rural-ness of wisdom. Dumbness is not a gated community. It is accepting of all. There is not a membership fee to get into it. Some people arrive there on a moment’s notice, while others plan for it. I remember my friend Steve Wamberg and I taking a few high school kids from the church we were youth ministers at to a concert one night. Two of the students were the daughters of the senior pastor. After the concert we decided to go out for pizza to a place in our Chicago suburb called Connie’s. We didn’t get the pastor’s daughters home until 1:30 A.M.
Dumb, dumb, dumb!
“Yes, I’d like a medium pizza with cluelessness, denseness, and ignorance on top.”
Each one of us can recall our visits to Dumbness. We’ve all been there. We can just hope that wisdom is where we spend most of our time.
Here’s the thing! Social media trumpets the happenings of Dumb! Wisdom doesn’t film well. Deciding to have a few beers and then leap from a roof on a skateboard films well on iPhones. Think about it! There was a hit TV show for years entitled Jackass. The people on the show made millions off their stupidity! Wisdom does not make good Youtube videos.
Wisdom is proactive. It steers people away from doing dumb. Wisdom is the coach, the one who understands the situation before trouble arrives.
Solomon was wise, but his dumbness affected his family and kingdom for generations to come. How often have I, and I’m sure also you, said “I wish I would have thought about it more before I did it?”
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 1 Kings 3, being stupid, being stupid things, common sense, Dr. Phil, dumb, Dumb and Dumber, dumb things we do, dumbness, firecrackers, fireworks, ignorance, intelligence, Jackass, King Solomon, Proverbs, Solomon, stupidity, the wisdom of Solomon, wisdom, wise decisions
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July 4, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. July 4, 2016
I was sitting at Starbucks this morning doing some writing. There was a man sitting in my seat! I had to sit in a different seat and try to write. The words weren’t coming in spite of the coffee. Then the man left…and I moved like a 5:00 A.M. Black Friday shopper at the doors of Best Buy as it opens.
And it hits me that I’m quirky!
“Quirky” is defined as “characterized by peculiar or unexpected traits.” Rushing to get a specific seat at Starbucks- the one at the end of the counter that faces out towards Pike’s Peak- is a little quirky.
There are preferences and there are quirks. Quirks are those things that are a little bizarre that we try to convince ourselves are simply preferences. I prefer to use a certain pillow to sleep with. That’s a preference. The “blankie” I prefer, that is becoming a little threadbare, is quirky. When a 62 year old takes his blanket with him on road trips…that’s quirky! Call me Linus!
I reuse my dental floss. That’s quirky! However, my wife disagrees. She says it is simply disgusting…so I hide it from her. That’s quirkiness spiced with deception!
There are certain brands of clothing that I wear, and no other. I buy my underwear and socks at J.C. Penney’s because…because that’s where my mom would buy them when I was a kid. She worked there! One time I got some underwear from a different store. It was suppose to be more manly. Instead, it kept pinching the twins! Soon after that Goodwill got a package of items that were almost new!
If I go to a rummage sale that happens to have jigsaw puzzles, watch out! Even though I have about thirty of them already that I haven’t put together, when I see another it’s like I see gold! I’m a borderline hoarder. I grieved the recent loss of my carrying case of cassette tapes, even though we no longer have a cassette player.
I’ve got my quirks!
We all do! Churches are the quirkiest of all! Most churches have to have a Sunday bulletin with the order of worship in it, even though the worship order hasn’t changed since the Day of Pentecost…the original Day of Pentecost!
Eighty percent of regular Sunday worship attenders sit in the same seat each Sunday. My Starbuck’s seat preference would seem to be normal behavior!
Churches put quirky things on their outdoor signs, like “All Are Welcome!” What other business or public place puts “All Are Welcome” on their sign? For some reason, however, churches seem to have to state it. Of course, sometimes some people discover a little later on that all aren’t welcome, but that’s another issue entirely.
Churches are quirky about change. “If it was good enough for Jesus…” Sometimes it is almost like entering into a time warp. One church did not allow any translation of the Bible except the King James Version. All other versions were seen as being tainted and worldly. “If it was good for Jesus…” It couldn’t even be the New King James, because the New King James did not talk in Jesus’ language, using “Thy’s” and “Thou’s”, and other verbiage that sounded extra spiritual.
Churches are quirky!
It is what it is! In my act of looking normal I am shadowed by my quirkiness. Sometimes, however, quirkiness is a good thing. For example, if someone had been sitting in my seat at Starbucks I would never have been able to write this blog.
Categories: Christianity, Community, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Blankie, Goodwill, J.C. Penney's, King James Version, peculiar, Pentecost, preferences, quirk, quirkiness, quirks, quirky, Starbucks, Sunday bulletins, unexpected traits, weird
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July 3, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. July 3, 2016
I am fortunate in many ways. One of those is being asked by couples to be the officiant for their weddings. I get the privilege of guiding them through their vows, grant the groom permission to kiss his new bride, and introduce them as a newly-wedded couple. Most of the time it’s a pretty cool experience. I stand up front in my marrying and burying suit and give the bride’s mother the nod as to when to stand.
In a time when a lot of people seem to trash the covenant of marriage it seems that a wedding is still seen as being that blessed event, a time of celebration and recognition of this new union.
When I meet with couples who are looking to get married we don’t talk about the wedding until the last session. All of the sessions we have are focused on what it means to be married…the challenges, the adjustments, hopes and dreams, expectations and dealing with frustrations. We talk about communication, deep and meaningful versus shallow and meaningless.
After those sessions then I guide the couple through the wedding ceremony, creating a celebration that is God-honoring and representative of who they are.
Weddings are also unpredictable. One ceremony I officiated was interrupted by the curtain in the chancel area of the sanctuary beginning to fall down. At another ceremony years ago one of the groomsmen passed out for a few moments. We got him propped up and continued. I tell those stories to the couple and make the point that we will not let the unplanned and unpredictable ruin the day; that the ceremony is about the two of them, not about perfection. It’s about them saying their vows to one another, not the fluff of the event.
This weekend I had the honor of presiding over the wedding ceremony of two young people who are awesome “kids!” I’ve known the young lady for seventeen years, coming to be her pastor when she was seven years old. The young man works at the same restaurant that my son is the chef for. He’s like a six foot three inch teddy bear who is deeply in love with his new wife. Fitting their personalities, the wedding was at a ranch. “Big Mike” and his groomsmen were decked out in blue jeans, dress shirts, ties, and black western hats. It fit! I was the only one in a suit, but they let me do the ceremony anyway.
And, of course, the weather reports were as indecisive as a kid with a dollar bill in a candy store. It could be okay…it could be raining…it could be sunny…it could be sunny with rain! The bride took a stand. “We are not getting married inside! If it rains, it rains!”
We pressed on, and at 1:55 the cousin of the bride began escorting grandparents down the aisle. At 2:00 the bridesmaids started their walk.
At thirty seconds after the clock struck two the rain started!
I took my glasses off and put in them in pocket. I motioned for the bride’s uncle to the front with an umbrella. He took his place, looking like my bodyguard/assistant, as the bride came down the aisle. The closer she got to the front the heavier the rain came…and there was no turning back!
We began as the bridesmaids wiped the raindrops off their brows. I trudged ahead, abbreviating statements without minimizing the sacredness of the ceremony. The bride smiled the whole time. The groom grinned as wide as the corral. We moved ahead through vows and the exchanging of the rings. My prayer got shortened a little bit, and Big Mike literally laid a wet kiss on his bride’s lips. I had them turn and face the umbrella-ed audience and as I pronounced them man and wife the rain stopped!
Eleven minutes! The ceremony took eleven minutes. It rained for ten minutes and fifty seconds!
And they were okay with it! In my prayer I asked that, just like the shower, God would rain down his blessings upon the newlyweds in the coming years, that they would look back at the day of their wedding…the rain and the gathering of family and friends…and see it as a symbolic reminder of how blessed they are.
I’ve always sensed that God has a sense of humor…God-humor, I guess you could call it. And wouldn’t you know it? About thirty minutes after the wet wedding the sun emerged to shine down upon the two “kids”, who now seemed a little more grown-up!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: brides, bridesmaids, Celebration, covenant of marriage, exchanging rings, groom, groomsmen, kissing the bride, outdoor weddings, Wedding, wedding celebration, wedding ceremony, wedding officiant, wedding vows, wedding weather, Weddings
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June 30, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. June 30, 2016
I was an energetic eight, like a wind-up toy that takes off in unpredictable directions. That was me! Our family was living in Williamstown, West Virginia, home of the Fenton Art Glass Company. My mom and dad worked across the Ohio River in Marietta, Ohio. We were a family of five in a small town that was devoted to kids. One of those devotions was a summer program at the community park. Each morning, Monday through Friday, kids would come to the park for crafts, games, and Kool-Aid.
At the end of the summer was the annual gathering up the river in Vienna of kids from all the park districts in the county for various swimming races and track and field competitions. I had completed a week of decent behavior at home, not setting anything on fire or getting caught in a lie, so Mom and Dad said I could go on the bus to Vienna. I scurried off that morning, brown lunch bag in tow, headed for a day of adventure.
The community park in Vienna had a huge outdoor pool, even a terrifying high dive, which I kept my distance from. Buses filled the parking lot unloading children, most of whom had high-pitched voices like me.
Everyone got settled and the swimming competitions began. I was entered in the 25 yard freestyle for eight year olds, plus the 100 yard freestyle relay. I had my J.C. Penney’s swim trunks on, characterized by their lack of fashion and dullness. I, however, didn’t know that they weren’t in style. My mom worked at Penney’s! Everything I wore was from Penney’s, all the way from my “Chuck Taylor high tops” to my Towncraft “whitie-tighties” to the bow tie I wore on Sundays to church.
The announcement came for all eight year old boys to report to the deep end of the pool. I scooted along the concrete in that direction. Twenty five yards doesn’t seem like very much, but from the deep end of the pool it looked like the whole length of West Virginia. I stood there waiting and in another few moments one other boy arrived. He looked scared. Someone must have told him that he was swimming against an Olympic champion. He looked over the side of the pool into the water, and his eyes got bigger.
A man who looked all official approached us. We stared at him. We knew he was older than eight, plus he had clothes on, so he must not be in the race with us.
“Are you boys here for the eight year old 25 yard freestyle?” We both looked up at him and nodded yes.
And then my competition, while looking once again over the side of the pool, asked him a question. “Is this water over my head?”
“Yes, it is! It’s twelve feet deep.”
His eyebrows rose up to the top of his head, and then in a quivering voice he said to the man, “Well, I can’t swim!”
The man looked at me and said, “Well, I guess that means you win, son!”
I won! I hadn’t even gotten wet! I was the Wood County, West Virginia eight year old 25 yard freestyle swimming champion!
It did not seem like the right time to inform the man that I couldn’t swim either! I figured I could dog paddle at least until I got to the shallow end of the pool. However, I was okay with not having to find out whether to not that was the reality or not.
Honesty and openness had not arrived in my life yet. Those Sunday School lessons probably wouldn’t be taught until I was nine! He pointed me towards a table to the side where I was to go to pick up my blue ribbon.
A little later on our relay team was lined up to swim. Conveniently, we were the only team entered so we were awarded first place. I had won my second blue winner in the swimming competition that I didn’t have to get wet for…and even more bizarre, in the swimming competition that I couldn’t swim in!
In the afternoon, however, I outran about twenty other boys in the 50 yard dash. I moved like a young gazelle in my Chuck Taylor’s. Call me Speedy!
Three blue ribbons! Blue Ribbon Bill! One of them won legally with full disclosure, and two with tight lips, unable to spill the beans.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: blue ribbon, eight year olds boys, Fenton Art Glass, honesty, races, swimming competitions, truthfulness, Vienna, West Virginia, Williamstown, Williamstown West Virginia, Wood County West Virginia
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June 28, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. June 28, 2016
I have my routines. I take a shower when I get up in the morning…every morning. A shower-less morning throws me for a loop. I function like a zombie in blue jeans. I can hardly even remember to put underwear on. (TMI!)
My life is sectioned into routines. Some of them are good and could even be classified as disciplines. Some are compulsive behaviors that make me think I’m just another Adrian Monk (from the TV series on USA Network Monk). Still other routines are simply things and actions that help me feel comfortable and in control.
In effect, I do a lot of living in sameness. My hamburger has to have tomato and onion on it. I drink a glass of soda whenever I have popcorn. I sleep with my personal blanket…otherwise known as my “blankie.” I sit in the same place whenever I watch television in our family room. I live in sameness. It reduces my stress level.
Sameness is okay…to a point!
A pastor friend of mine made a statement recently in describing a church. He said that the church was committed to living for sameness. I loved that statement because it describes a lot of congregations. On the other end of the spectrum are churches who are committed to constant change. They are hyperactive organizations that jump around like balloons that are released full of air but not tied shut. Both types of churches are committed to living for sameness- one to no change and the other to constant change.
Sameness, in some cases, becomes what we worship. I grew up believing that the Doxology was always sung after the offering was received. It was the cue for the ushers to bring the offering plates back to the front of the sanctuary. When I heard it sung one Sunday in a different point in the worship service I was caught off-guard. Did I sleep through the offering?
In my seminary days I worked for a year in a Presbyterian Church. The senior pastor, Dr. James P. Martin, was a great pastor and mentor. He taught me a multitude of things about ministry. But I had been raised Baptist all my life! I could see things only through a Baptist lens. When I questioned why the Presbyterians didn’t have a Sunday night service…”like we Baptists did!”…he gave me a great response that I’ll always remember. He said, “Well, Bill, what it takes Baptists two worship services to do we can do in one!”
Classic!
It helped me understand that things do not always have to be the same. Change can be a good thing. After all, the Christian faith is about transformation. A person, and a congregation, can’t be transformed and remain the same.
I’m not proficient in being sensitive to the leading of the Spirit. I’ve missed a ton of stop signs and Spirit whispers, but I also sense that if given a choice many congregations would choose to stay rooted to sameness instead of being led by the Spirit. Like my “blankie”, there is comfort and safeness in sameness.
What amazes me about the first church is that although they were rooted in Judaism they were transformed by the Gospel and led by the Spirit. They were changed, but anchored to the Change Agent.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Holy Spirit, Jesus, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: Baptist, church organizations, comfort, doing what's comfortable, God-leadings, Holy Spirit leadings, led by the Spirit, Presbyterian Church, routines, the early church, the first church, Tradition, Transformation
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June 27, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. June 27, 2016
I thought about being a high school physical education teacher, otherwise known as a gym teacher. That was when I was a junior in high school.
I thought about skydiving once, and then came to my senses.
I thought about buying an old ice cream truck and strolling through neighborhoods with that bell-sounding music selling fudgesicles to delighted children.
I thought about growing my hair out and looking like a hippie from the sixties just stepping out of a time machine.
I’ve thought about a lot of things, and I think about a lot of things. Some wise coach once told me that “Thinking about it and doing it are two different things.” It was a slap of reality as I procrastinated on some important decision. We all have our list of “I thought about’s.” It’s the jump into the unknown.
I thought about studying for a master’s degree in Athletic Administration.
I thought about planting cucumbers.
I thought about running a marathon this September. The last marathon I ran was the Chicago Marathon in 1978, or, in other words, when Moby Dick when a minnow!
I thought about hiking the Grand Canyon.
Our thoughts make it on to our bucket list of things we’d like to do before we lay down for our eternal rest. Some “think about’s” come to us for one insane, irrational moment and then pass on like a puff of flatulence that we leave behind.
Some folk share their “thought about’s” openly and endlessly. From my experience, people who share their “think about’s” frequently are people who seldom do anything. Perhaps they want the listener to be impressed or encouraging. Encouragement, however, has run its course and the thoughts still keep coming. The listener gets tired of encouraging “think about’s” with no substance.
There are some “think about’s” that should be tossed as quickly as whole hominy on a dinner plate. Years ago I mentioned to Carol that we should think about having a fourth child. She gave me the look that spoke volumes using no words. I didn’t think about it much after that…at least while she was in the room.
Some people have a habit of thinking one bad idea after another and, unfortunately, proceeding with one bad idea after another. Like someone in extreme debt who decides to go and buy a new car because there won’t be any payments for the first six months!
Other people need to be coached in a few of their “think about’s”. They need to be told that the idea or new life direction has merit, be asked some clarifying questions, and be aided in giving what they are thinking about some substance and legs.
I thought about retiring from pastoral ministry for several years. My friend, Tom Bayes, helped me process my thoughts, separating frustration with the job from feelings of conclusion for the occupation. After thirty-six years I was used up, and felt like that half-gallon of milk in the refrigerator with the expiration date from a week ago. In the same way Tom helped me clarify some of my “think about’s” for the future. He was a voice of experience, since he had retired from pastoral ministry a few years before me. He helped me figure out whether or not the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.
Ultimately, each one of us needs to sort out our “thought about’s” and determine which ones will get tossed with the trash and which ones will make the cut. Like that coach who told me that thinking and doing are two separate things, sometimes we need to risk proceeding with the idea.
And sometimes we just need to admit to ourselves “That is stupid!” It doesn’t hurt as much when we can admit to ourselves the idiocy of what our brain concocted.
I still, however, think about buying that ice cream truck and playing the song “Ice, Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice over and over again!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Humor, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, Youth
Tags: bad ideas, bucket list, dreams, good ideas, Grand Canyon, ideas, innovations, mentoring, mentors, momentum, think about, thoughts
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June 26, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. June 26, 2016
We all need others. I recognize that there are those who approach life with a mindset that says no one can do anything as well as they can, but even those people, swimming in arrogance and perfectionism, need others.
There are those who join us in our journey who are pivotal in keeping us on the path. Being a pastor is a highly stressful calling, because pastors lead churches that almost always have some people that no one else would put up with. Pastors have people who would complain about Jesus’ beard if they were given a chance. Pastors also have people who are on the other end of the spectrum- people who are the salt of the earth, wonderful and encouraging.
In my years of ministry in Michigan I had two other pastors who came alongside me, and I alongside them. We called ourselves “The BMW Group!” Since we were pastoring churches in the Lansing, Michigan area where Oldsmobile was located, the BMW letters did not indicate the cars we drove. Instead it stood for Bayes, Moore, and Wolfe. Tom Bayes was pastor of Judson Memorial Baptist Church in Lansing; Chuck Moore was pastor of Charlotte First Baptist, just a few miles outside of the city; and I was pastor of Mason First Baptist, also located just a few miles outside of town.
Bayes, Moore, Wolfe…BMW!
For about seven years we would meet every other Wednesday for lunch at Finley’s restaurant on the south side of the city. We’d laugh, share, moan, talk about people who made our lives miserable, seek advice from one another, and chew on lunch. In those years we became best friends amongst all the pastors we knew. Almost twenty years later I still see Tom and Chuck as my best pastor buds!
And the interesting thing is that each of us was so different theologically. Tom was fairly liberal in his views, Chuck leaned to the right, and I was the moderate. That’s pretty much where each of us still is, but our friendship provides a solid base for dialogue. When you are committed to the journey, and you know that the other two are also committed to the journey, you can disagree on what are the important things to pack in the suitcase, and how to pack them.
Today Chuck pastors a church in the Dayton, Ohio area, I’m in Colorado Springs, and Tom is finishing up an intentional interim pastorate in Gastonia, North Carolina. We’re figuring out when and where the three of us can meet up for a couple of days of fellowship, laughter, and just being together.
Our closest friends are not always the ones who live closest to us. Our closest friends are the ones we can place a call to at a moment’s notice and know that they will be there to converse with, or just to listen.
We all need others. Even Jesus needed others. He had the twelve, and even in the midst of the twelve he had the three…his closest confidants!
I miss my buds. There are plenty of people on the bus headed to “Good Riddance!”, but there are just a few who bless us with their presence, with their conversations, and lift us up and keep us going.
I’ll climb in my Honda Accord in a few minutes to drive to the little church east of the city to speak, but I’ll be thinking about my BMW!
Who is a part of your BMW?
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Humor, Jesus, love, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: BMW, close friends, closest friends, companions, Friends, friendship, journey, ministry colleagues, ministry support, pastoring, support for pastors
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Words from WW Blog 