Archive for the ‘Community’ category

The One Word

June 10, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                 June 10, 2015

                                               

I wrote recently about a young lady who I had coached basketball for three years in high school passing away at the age of twenty.

Ever since hearing of her death I’ve been haunted…that’s the best word I can come up with…haunted by the absence of a word!

“A word” is not necessarily meant to be a literal term. It could be a few words… or one comment… or one encouragement…or one probing question. Just one thing that might have helped her define her life direction, her purpose, the potential of her vibrant spirit.

There have been other people who I’ve said things to, though unaware of it at the time, who have come back to me later and told me the effect of my words. I’ve written things that touched people in profound ways that I had no clue about.

And so it haunts me to know that this young woman could not latch on to something that I taught her, or I could not find that one word to guide her, years later, through rough waters.

Knowing the ache in my heart, I can’t imagine the aching fatigue in the lives of her family members.

One word! I think back over my life and the “one words” that have helped me get on track. My Uncle George taking me into the bedroom of my grandparents’ house in Oil Springs, Kentucky and giving me his “one word” after I came home from my first quarter of college with a GPA of “.533!” That’s right…the decimal point is to the left of the first number greater than “0”!

I remember Jerry Heslinga, our associate pastor at First Baptist Church in Ironton, Ohio giving me his “one word” that helped me stay the course in seminary.

I’m thankful for the “one word” that Gene Gilbert has for me on Sunday mornings when he lays a hand on my shoulder before worship and says a prayer for me.

And the “one word” that Rev. Chuck Landon imparted to me as I was floundering in the pool of pastoring. His “one word” was like a lifeline that kept me afloat.

I think of the “one word” of my coaching mentor, Don Fackler. Every time I hear, or say, “discombobulated” …which, believe it or not, is quite often, I see his bespectacled face.

And I think of my closest friend in ministry, Tom Bayes, and the defining conversations we would have. Sometimes I would be in the depths of despair and Tom would lift my spirits, and at other times when I had whacky thoughts he would ask a question to help me right the ship.

“One word” people have been instrumental in my life.

That knowledge makes it that much more difficult for me to know that I didn’t have that “one word” for this lady. In times like these I’m not sure there is a silver lining. Perhaps it will cause me to be more mindful of what I say and don’t say. Perhaps I’ll treasure the relationships I have even more.

The ache in my spirit has not lessened since last Friday. Perhaps that’s a good thing!

Heartache, Helpless, and Blessed

June 8, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                June 8, 2015

                                

I’ve recently written quite a bit about loss…losing people close to me who have gone on to glory. Believe me! I don’t want to write about the process of grieving for the rest of my life, but I had two experiences yesterday that have profoundly affected me.

It began with “the missing!” A dear man and his wife, 94 and 91 in age, were missing from their usual spots in worship yesterday morning. Rex helps take the offering each Sunday morning and always squeezes my finger when I put my offering envelope in the plate. He looks at me and says “I’m praying for you”, and then he gives me a wink. It’s an important moment of the morning for me…but he wasn’t there.

He’s been battling a form of cancer, running a race against old age…and the age is catching up to him. He is a dear committed man of God and serving husband to his wife, Ann.

I  called him Sunday afternoon and asked if I could bring our group of young men by to pray with him and his wife, Ann, that evening.

“Well…that would be great, Pastor Bill! Yes…I think that would be all right!”

So we went, six of us, spent time with them, heard about his “miracle malts” that his granddaughter was bringing to him that seemed to make him feel better, and then we stood with them in a circle and prayed.

Each one of us felt a bit of heartache knowing that this couple were in the midst of daily struggles to just keep going. The weariness of their bodies was now dictating what could be done and what had to be surrendered. Things that we took for granted were now only maybes for the two of them.

But we were also blessed by simply being with them, holding hands with them and praying, listening to their stories told with wit and humor. They were so thankful that we had come, but we were even more thankful that we had been there.

After we prayed and hugged on them for a while we got in our vehicles and headed down the street to the ice cream place, BJ’s Velvet Freeze, and we all ordered malts!

Right before I had gone to be blessed by this pair of ninety somethings I became aware of another kind of heartache. I young lady I had coached for three years in basketball died. Twenty years old, full of potential and primed for life…suddenly gone. I was numbed by the news. On the wall behind me in my study is a team picture from her freshman year where she is standing just behind my right shoulder, in the midst of her teammates, looking happy and almost giggly. That was one of the sweetest, most fun groups of girls I’ve ever coached. They finished 13-5 and beat an undefeated Doherty team in the last game of the regular season…a group of Doherty girls that had not lost since they started playing together in 6th grade.

And this young lady was a vital part of the team, but more than that, she was just a delight to coach that year.

And now her light had faded out!

That same sense of heartache that I experienced as I sat with Rex and Ann I also experienced as I processed the news of the death of this young woman, but this time it was tagged together with helplessness. I wished I could have said something to her to change the course of her ship, to let the wind be in her sails again. I wish I could go back to her freshman year and be blessed once again by the giggling and the solidity of those relationships amongst teammates. I wish I could rewind and know that I could say one thing that I hadn’t said before that would result in June 5, 2015 being different…being a day of celebration and fulfilled promise instead of grief and deep, deep sorrow!

A strange day of lives that have been long, purposeful, and fulfilling…and a life that had barely started…and I can’t stop thinking about it!

Missing The Biennial

June 7, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                  June 7, 2015

                                               

From the time I was eight years old I’ve been a part of American Baptist Churches. Before that time my family went to a Southern Baptist church in Winchester, Kentucky (Central Baptist Church with Pastor Zachary). We switched to American Baptist because we moved from Winchester to Williamstown, West Virginia, and the Baptist church in town was First Baptist Church with ties to the ABC.

That’s my pilgrimage! No doctrinal differences that sent us scurrying for safety. No questioning of our salvation, or limited program opportunities…just one town with one Baptist church. I was at an age where I didn’t understand what a Nazarene was…and the only things I knew about Methodists were that the Boy Scouts met there and that they didn’t meet as often as we did at the Baptist church. They didn’t even have a Sunday night service, which I thought was the eleventh commandment!

I grew up, moved to Zanesville, Ohio, and then to Ironton, Ohio. The First Baptist Churches in those communities were also American Baptist-related. And that’s how I became entrenched in my denomination.

All that to say that in less than three weeks when my denomination has their biennial convention in Overland Park, Kansas I won’t be there! It isn’t a protest because of some issue they will be debating. It’s just a matter of church budget constraints. I didn’t even ask for the biennial convention to be a line item in our 2015 budget. If we are committed to sending mission dollars to various parts of the world I just couldn’t see asking for a thousand dollars to send one pastor to four days of meetings.

I’m not disgruntled or embittered. I’m just…conservative!

And I’m probably not alone. I’m sure there are plenty of other pastors of small and medium-sized congregations who can’t justify the expense as well. A few years ago I made a suggestion about simulcasting the biennial to various places around the country and world. The concern was that we would lose the “community feeling” of the biennial, those face-to-face conversations with people we know or missionaries who are available or region executive ministers being able to meet with “new blood” potential pastors.

I still was not convinced that the cost of bringing a couple thousand people together from around the country and abroad was worth the expense. The last biennial I attended was in Richmond, Virginia eight years ago.

And so I will miss this one! I’ll miss reconnecting with ministry friends such as Tom and Diane Bayes…and Bret Truax…and Ed Owens. I’ll also miss the Ministers and Missionaries Benefit Board luncheon, and some great speakers, and the freebies that I’ll keep for memories.

But I’ll survive…and our denomination will go on.

Sometimes you just can’t do everything, and a person needs to decide what it is he/she can do. What is financially responsible? What is good time management? What makes sense?

Losing Special People

June 7, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                          June 6, 2015

                                                 

A few weeks ago (April 22), I wrote a blog post about a special lady, Ruth Kennedy, who was celebrating her 96th birthday. That post was entitled “The Saints Who Go Before Us”. Ruth Kennedy passed away yesterday.

One granddaughter posted a few pictures on Facebook of some of Ruth’s final days with family. I got somewhat emotional looking at them as I remembered what a great lady she had been during my growing up years.

My life recently has been crocheted with loss. My Aunt Cynthia passed away about three of weeks ago. She would have been 93 on May 22. “Aunt Cynthy” always made me smile, especially as she handed me a rolled-up five dollar bill and told me not to tell anyone. She had a down-home wit and humor about her that I will always remember. Visits to her house were punctuated by eating! A few years ago she looked at me and said, “Billy Dean, you’re looking (pause)…a little manly!” That was Aunt Cynthia’s way of saying I had put some weight on. I think she offered me a piece of apple pie and ice cream right after that!

This past week my dad has been in the hospital back in Huntington, West Virginia. Being in Colorado is hard during these times. Writing about Dad, Aunt Cynthy, and Ruth Kennedy are a way that I cope with loss and absence.

It’s how I deal with having to say goodbye to some good friends over the years as well. Most are still on this side of glory, but separated from me by distance and schedules.

We lose people in different ways throughout the journey. Hopefully it causes us to value each relationship…each conversation…each piece of pie lovingly cut…each moment shared even more.

Aunt Cynthy and Ruth Kennedy have passed on to their eternal rewards, experiences of a precision choir of hallelujah praises. My Dad, closing in on 87, isn’t far behind. I’ve been blessed by all. May I be a blessing to just as many!

Denying Self To Build Community

June 5, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                     June 5, 2015

                                    

Recently I watched a DVD that brought to the surface the breakdown of a community in a major metropolitan area of our nation. The deterioration didn’t happen overnight, but rather over a period of twenty years or so. One of the fractures that rose to the surface was the breakdown in the family system. Absentee fathers…parents not investing into their kids lives, sometimes because they were working two jobs to make ends meet…gangs moving into the area to fill the void in young men’s lives that needed some kind of family.

Another fracture was caused by people becoming more concerned with themselves than those who lived in their community. A hint of self-preservation gradually grew to become the odor of selfish ambition. Suspicions grew about people’s agendas. Gang activity resulted in residents being protective of the few things they had. “My brother’s keeper” became non-existent as people felt community concern for their well-being decreased.

Survival defined the environment instead of living life.

The DVD showed how the community was gradually saved…emotionally, economically, relationally, and spiritually…but it was a long journey on a pothole-filled road. It showed one church’s commitment to the high school in that community that changed the lives of students, their families, but also volunteers from the church. A community was resurrected!

And it all came back to that denying oneself to build a safe community for others. What a concept!

Jesus once said some pretty challenging words. He said, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23, NIV)

A little while later after he had experienced death and then resurrection he told is disciples to go into all the world making disciples of all nations, baptizing, and teaching them. It seems that following Jesus is about the person stepping off the throne, risking oneself, and loving others. Building community involves some people who are willing to pick up some crosses.

This afternoon I went by the elementary school close to our church that we partner with. The principal had approached me a couple of weeks ago about getting together and strategizing about our partnership next year. Today we set up the appointment and I gave her that DVD to watch before we meet.

It takes more than a community to raise a child. It takes people who would rather share half of their sandwich at lunchtime with a hungry kid than eating the whole thing. It takes vision to see the imbalance and ears to hear the impoverished. It takes a hand to comfort and feet to go the distance.

And, quite honestly, not many people are willing to be that!

Being Blessed By Normal People

June 5, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                   June 4, 2015

                                      

It was ingenious of Jesus to call normal guys to be his first disciples. Talk about your average Joe’s! Average might actually be a compliment. Jesus started a movement with men who were mediocre fishermen.

Why was it ingenious? Because more prominent men with bulging egos might have thought they were responsible for changing the world. Sometimes talented people let their talent get in the way of the workings of God.

In my years as a pastor I’ve seen spiritual movements begun as a result of a few inspiring words by the most unlikely of people. At a homiletics conference I was recently at one of the things that was said by a keynote speaker resonated with me. He made the point that we (preachers) all know how to create a sermon. The difference is whether our preparation of that sermon is immersed in prayer. Prayer takes it out of the hands of control freaky pastors, and places it back with the One who gives us the words.

And once again it comes back to talented people letting their eloquence get in the way of the workings of the Holy Spirit.

I believe there is a battle going on in “church world” these days. The gospel gets treated too many times like it is a product that needs to be wrapped in attractive packaging so people will buy it. Jesus gets portrayed as “way cool.” We become so determined to make the church look relevant that we risk inventing a gospel of outer looks and appearance instead of a gospel that changes hearts.

Now that I’ve entered into my sixty-first year on this earth I’m fairly certain that I’m an average pastor who seeks to serve the Lord the best he can. I’m not way cool…I don’t even use hair gel! The closest I am to cool is driving a 2008 Civic Hybrid. I’m just an average Joe…like James and Thomas, Philip and Andrew…nothing really special about me. I brush with Colgate and say certain words funny. I’ve been called to be a pastor who serves a church filled with great people who will not be in Time magazine, and almost all of them will never even be in the local newspaper. We have a desire to serve the Lord by serving the community around us. It’s a picture of average fueled by hope.

And I’m okay with that!

Thirty Days Writing Challenge

June 1, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                       June 1, 2015

                                       

I’m taking a challenge once again to write a blog post each day during the month of June. Some of these posts will be “head scratchers.” Others will cause you to ponder and consider. Some will be about as deep as mustard on a hot dog (I have no clue what that means but it had some flow to it when you say it to yourself.); while others will be so deep you may need to read it out loud to understand it.

What I hope happens in the midst of this is, first of all, a renewed commitment to writing on a steady basis. In the rush of life it is easy to push it to the side and focus on something else…like Dukes of Hazard reruns and such.

Second, I hope that if you’re reading it that you’ll pass it on to someone else, or recommend it to someone. Each year for the past five years the readership of my blog has increased. Sone have suggested that I write more. When a writer sees that he’s not just shooting blanks out there, but has some written words that are touching a nerve, healing a hurt, causing a chuckle, or resurrecting a memory…it’s encouraging, and causes an increase in attention and efforts.

So do me a favor…and read it! Respond to it! Even give me an idea of something you’d like for me to write about.

Thirty days begins now!

Explaining Jerk-hood

May 28, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                May 28, 2015

                                          

Jerk. A four letter word that I find myself saying more frequently these days. The way I use it almost never is connected to some kind of meat, like chicken or beef, but is, however, almost always related to a meathead!

Jerk-hood for many people is not a sickness. It’s a persistent condition, like bad breath or B.O. It travels around with them like a dust storm announcing Pig Pen’s presence.

The “Big Boy” truck that weaves in and out of traffic like he’s a Duke of Hazzard…the forty-something man who charges out of the grocery door without regard for the pregnant lady coming in with two pre-schoolers in tow…any of the Real Housewives of Anywhere, USA…jerk-hood is gaining new members more rapidly than gray hairs on my head!

It’s puzzling to me! Why do more and more people act like “Biff Tannen” from Back to the Future. Do they realize it? Oblivious?

It’s interesting that jerk-hood stands out like a sore thumb compared to sainthood! Saints don’t go around wearing their good deeds and compassionate hearts on their sleeves. Jerks stand out like a leisure suit at a GQ Fashion Show!

So what’s going on? Is this a phase, a momentary trend? For one we’re more and more self-focused. We’ve even given it a name…”selfies!” We’re very much about ourselves. We’ve bought into it, and now believe it. It’s blurred the lines of what is acceptable and what is unacceptable. We’re not as sure these days.

Jerk-hood has even entered our churches. Most of the time we wrap it in Christ-like language, but it’s still there. Some weeks a person has to look real, real deep to find any fruit of the Spirit in the congregation. Part of Joel’s Osteen’s popularity has been the blurring of theology. It’s mixed up even more than a DQ Blizzard, spinning together some God talk with mostly self-talk. The message sounds appealing…and it makes me happy…which is what it’s all about! Jerks for Jesus…has a certain ring to it!

What Jesus said is a little disturbing to the jerk clan. He said “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” (Luke 9:23-24) Those words might not sell well to the sixty-something woman who just displayed her middle finger for me to see as she turned in front of me.

Lives are based on the mountain of momentary decisions that display our true selves. What is right, what is Christ-like, what is encouraging and positively impactful…often get buried in the last chapter of a person’s unwritten life of destructive behavior and disturbing words.

Some might miss this point, but it really is the evidence of the evil one’s intense interest in each of our lives. If I can have a few “f bombs” thrown my way it can take me off my commitment to doing random acts of kindness. If the hamburger I order at Wendy’s looks like it was put together by my four year old granddaughter it will take me into those darker moments of bitterness and disgust that will cause me to treat someone or several people with disdain and no value.

It’s a hard thing, and a spreading fog of fallen humanity, and I recognize that my membership card for jerk-hood gets displayed quite often.

Thank God that he even loves jerks as much as the saints!

 

Apple Juice and Glazed Communion

May 25, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                May 25, 2015

                                     

There were always a few yawns when the men arrived for the 7:30 Saturday Men’s Bible Study group. Ten guys sat around the table, each slurping their first cup of coffee of the day. This was an important part of each man’s weekly schedule. It was where they unloaded, laughed deeply, and uninhibitedly questioned life.

Confidentiality was a valued element of this group. Struggles stayed here. Frustrations didn’t get retold to spouses and girlfriends.

“My brother is considering leaving his wife!” groaned Jimmy.

“Why’s that, Jimmy?”

“He thinks she’s having an on-line affair with some guy that she knew back in high school.”

“Is he assuming, or does he know for sure?”

“I think he’s assuming, but their marriage has been as rocky as Pike’s Peak for some time now. What do I tell him? I can’t condone his walking out on her, but I see the hurt in his eyes every time we talk about it.”

A wise octogenarian named Clarence stroked his silver beard and slowly began to speak. “Jimmy, tell your brother to not do anything…not make any decision for a month. We will commit as a group to pray daily for him, and even more than him, his wife for the coming thirty days. Someone once said that “decisions made in haste lead to a bad taste.”

“I think that someone was you, Clarence,” pointed out another elder of the group named Fred.

Jimmy looked around the table and said “I really appreciate it, fellas’!”

The youngest member of the group, a twenty-something named Matt, spoke up. “A good friend of mine from high school just found out he has advanced cancer.”

Moans and grimaces around the table displayed the group empathy for Matt. Most of them had friends who battled cancer- some won, some lost.

“Have you talked to him, Matt?” asked Steve, a balding forty year old.

“Yes, he’s pretty scared! I told him that we’d be praying for him. He’s not a follower of Jesus, but this has given me some opportunity to talk to him about life and death, hope and faith.”

Steve voiced the group’s commitment to pray for him, and for Matt as he walked alongside his friend.

“This group means a lot to me!” The voice was that of a recently-retired businessman named Daniel, and it was filled with emotion. “I look forward to this every week. Most weeks it’s my highlight. Talking to you guys, especially when I’m dealing with no news from my son from Africa.” Daniel’s youngest son, Nate, was in the midst of a nine-month deployment to a troubled part of Africa.

Clarence, who was sitting next to Daniel, put his hand on his shoulder for a few moments. “We’re in this together, Daniel!”

There was a sacred silence around the table. For a few moments no one stirred or even took a sip of coffee. They sat as a brotherhood.

“Do you know what we should do?” Steve suddenly asked.

“Take a trip to Hawaii and you pick up the tab?” suggested Randy, who was the comedian of the group.

“No…we should share communion together.”

“It’s not the first Sunday of the month, Steve!”

“I don’t think the scriptures say anything about first Sunday communion. That’s just something we created for some reason. No…it seems like it says something in the Bible about having communion whenever to come together…or something like that.”

“That’s not blasphemous, is it?” asked Matt.

“What?”

“To have communion when it’s not even in the sanctuary?”

“Jesus had it in the upper room, Matt.”

Randy spoke up again. “But there’s no grape juice! And you know without a doubt that there’s no wine in this church!”

“Can we pray over water and ask God to change it into wine?”

“Or why can’t we just use apple juice?” suggested Jimmy. Sometimes a question got asked in this group that no one had an answer for. Each man pondered.

“We can,” Clarence affirmed.

“Are you sure, Clarence? Do you think the pope would say it’s okay?”

Randy lightened the moment. “Unless I missed the memo, I don’t think this group turned Catholic.”

“We can…and we will share communion. Do we have a donut left?”

“One glazed!”

“Cut it up in ten pieces. Someone get some of those kid’s size paper cups for the juice and let’s do it.”

There was a hustle of activity as different guys got the substitute elements and prepared the table. Clarence led them through it. The glazed donut had a holy taste to it, not on the tongue, but rather to the soul. After sipping the apple juice Clarence led them in a prayer for Jimmy’s brother and sister-in-law, Matt’s friend with cancer, and for each other. They held hands firmly and with commitment and prayed like the King of Kings himself was sitting at the table with them.

“You don’t think Pastor Bob will be upset by this, do you?” asked Randy.

“Yes, he will be!” responded Steve.

“Really?”

“Yes, he will be upset that he wasn’t here to be a part of this!”

Randy summed it up. “You snooze, you lose!”

 

What I Would Have Told 2015 Graduates If Someone Had Invited Me

May 20, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                             May 19, 2015

            

You can’t trust mail delivery these days! I did not receive my invitations from various high schools and colleges to give their commencement address to the different graduating classes.

None! I even looked in the phone book to see if there is another Rev. William D, Wolfe in the Colorado Springs area, and there isn’t…but can you really trust the phone book these days?

So now I’m left with all these thoughts and suggestions that are still being thrown around in my head that need to come out like twice-laundered clothes! Here’s what I wish I could have said.

Discern what it is you want from what it is you need! Our culture has screwed you up! Ask yourself the question, “What can I live without?” and “What is essential for my life?” A new, or even used, BMW is not essential for your existence. The latte from Starbucks on your way to your new entry-level employment position is not essential. Money set aside to pay your utility bill probably is an essential…unless you have lots of blankets! Need a microwave for the new apartment you are moving into? Go to the Goodwill store and pick one up for $10!

Most things that get advertised as being able to bring happiness into your life will miss miserably! Don’t get sucker-punched by the hidden left hook reality! What really brings happiness is rarely advertised. It doesn’t need to be. For instance, a spring rain shower that brings a freshness to the air is a momentary delight that can’t be bought. Drinking a boatload of beer with a group of young adults gets portrayed as a happy time, but it never shows the staggering half-conscious product of the occasion.

Don’t make your mom keep doing your laundry! Cut the apron strings and take some responsibility. For that matter, don’t expect your parents to keep forking over money to you like they still owe you a weekly allowance. If you could make it to the podium to receive your diploma you are able to do most of the things that you’ve always took your granted that your mom and dad would do.

You aren’t entitled! Get over it! Entitlement is an illusion created by a reality TV generation. the days of equal playing time are over. You aren’t entitled to almost anything…pay raises, big screen TV, a seat at the table, going 70 in a 45, going through the “15 Items Or Less” line with 20 different things…just get over it! Little League is a distant memory for you. Even that diploma doesn’t entitle you to anything…except maybe student loans. I recently read an article about the long-time baseball coach at the University of Texas who was asked about the biggest difference between players he coached at the beginning of his career and the players he coached towards the end. His response…”entitlement!” Players think they are entitled to things these days without putting in the hard work. Colleges are upgrading facilities to a point that players now expect the finest.

It’s not all about you! Seek to serve incredibly more than being served. Know that being an American gives you the opportunity to make a difference in someone’s life…whether close at hand or in a distant place…that most in the world can not do. Most people in the world are just trying to survive. You aren’t a survivor! You are simply fortunate! Identity one way this world will be a better place because of you, not in spite of you! Get over yourself!

Perhaps my commencement address would be a bit harsh. But I’d be willing to give it for free! Hey! eBay paid Hillary $315,000 for a 20 minute speech! I’m cheap! I go against the popular notion that you can’t get something for nothing! I’d even pay for my own dinner since many believe there is no free meal!

Waiting for the calls from…Harvard, Texas Tech…Judson University…Ironton High School…any high school…Academy Endeavor 5th Grade Graduation…Kindercare day care promotion Friday…home for the aged…anywhere!