Archive for the ‘Freedom’ category
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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June 8, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. June 8, 2016
It’s been a difficult week. I took my carrying case of cassette tapes to Goodwill! It was comparable to that day several years ago when Carol and I took Lizi, our youngest, to college.
Carol has been cleaning up the basement this week. The trunk of our car was loaded with various boxes and forgotten treasures. I was okay with the old humidifier finding its place in the trunk, but then…then (dramatic music for effect)…she brought out the tape case.
I had forgotten about it, but then I started looking at all the products of music production that it held.
Twila Paris….Bohemian Melodies…Lake Wobegon Days…Whale Sounds…DeGarmo and Key…Cat Stevens…Andrae Crouch…Larry Norman…Keith Green! The last three are now dead, but hey!…their music never dies…unless, of course, its on a cassette tape.
I begrudgingly zipped the case closed and said a few holy words over it, sprayed incense in the air, tore my cloak and threw ashes on my head, and then drove the condemned to Goodwill.
I realize that neither of our vehicles has a tape player, and the one cassette player we have is somewhere unknown, but it is hard to let go of objects that I’ve associated with a certain period of my life.
Cassette tapes were from a time when Carol and I were raising three kids. There’s a sweetness to those memories. I would listen to Twila Paris as I prepared the Sunday message. When the music ended, I pressed the eject button and the tape door would open. I’d flip the cassette over and press Play. Good times and good music.
Life is littered with those Goodwill moments when we just need to let some things go. Pack them up and move on.
Churches usually aren’t very good at that. Sentiment runs high. Every congregation has a certain number of people who want things to stay the same. Like with my cassette tapes, I just wanted them to be there in case, for some odd reason, on a rainy afternoon I ever had the urge to hear whale sounds again.
Years ago there was a man in my church who had to travel most of the time. He would be gone for three or four months and then be home for a week. I got wind of the fact that he wasn’t going to come to church anymore so I called him. He said the church had changed, that it wasn’t the same. In essence, he wanted it to be there for him whenever he had the urge or possibility of attending. In his turbulent and fast-paced life he wanted the worship service to be the same as it had been in order to bring back to him memories of a period of his life that he longed to return to.
It’s hard to say goodbye, because we feel that we’re being insensitive. There are those who transition, it seems, with ease, and then there are those of us who hold on because we associate whatever we’re grasping with God. If it at one time was a vehicle of God we think it borders on blasphemy to get rid of it.
Churches are often hoarders out of a confused love for God. It’s like when I go to Best Buy and purchase a new Blu-Ray player, and then bring it home and sit it on top of my DVD player, which is still sitting on top of my VHS player.
Sometimes we just have to take the cassette tapes to Goodwill!
What Carol doesn’t realize is that I sneaked half a dozen tapes out of the case when she was out of the room. I think that’s okay! Bohemian Melodies, it seems, are few and far between these days.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Death, Faith, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: cassette tapes, Change, changing times, church and change, church transitions, Goodwill, Keith Green, Larry Norman, life transitions, loyalty, relies, sentiment, Tradition, Twila Paris, VHS
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June 3, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. June 3, 2016
I was not always on the same page with my parents. For example, I wanted to grow my hair out…like all the other kids…but my mom and dad kept me looking like a cue ball with fuzz until I was halfway through high school. “Morris Barber Shop” in downtown Ironton, Ohio is still “razor shaved” into my memory!
My mom’s definition of cleanliness differed from mine. If my bedroom “looked like a tornado hit it”, that meant my bedspread was slightly tilted to the side and one of the sliding doors on the closet was open.
On several other issues that I thought at the time were life-changing, or life-restricting, we differed as well. BUT I always greatly respected my mom and dad. We didn’t have to agree with one another. When Mom fixed dinner I did not receive a menu to decide what was to be served. I was not asked whether or not I wanted the spinach that was staring at me from my plate. I did not have voting privileges! I never doubted my parents’ love for me, even if I did doubt their sanity and thought that “they were so unreasonable!”
They were not swayed by the popular vote.
ME: ”Everybody’s doing it!”
MOM: “Not everybody! You aren’t!”
There is a difference between agreeing with your parents and respecting your parents.
Yesterday, I attended the Air Force Academy graduation ceremonies. The second cadet that we have been the sponsor family for, Justin Katzovitz, graduated, so Carol and I went to celebrate this incredible milestone in his life alongside his parents, twin sister, and other relatives.
I had the opportunity to see my first President in person. I thought President Obama’s speech was very good. Most of what he said I agreed with, but there were a couple of things that he said that I didn’t agree with.
When I posted a picture from the graduation of the President standing at the podium and simply wrote “I saw my first President at the Air Force graduation today”…and left it at that, it was interesting to see all the comments from people. Some said “Great! That must have been awesome!”, and others said “I’m sorry you had to hear him!”
Is it wrong to disagree with someone, but still respect him?
In my mind “respect” does not necessarily go hand-in-hand with agreement. Kind of like with my parents! When one group sees the president as the greatest thing since sliced bread, while another group sees him as the worst thing since the Yugo it seems that a person’s political perspective is the lens that the view is looking through.
I’ll admit that I’m a registered Republican who voted for Romney in 2012, but I still respect the person who holds the office.
Of course, respect is defined in different ways by different people, but one thing that gets voiced quite often, and in various settings, these days is the lack of respect. Teachers sense that in the classroom with their students and with the parents of their students. Customers sense it in the employees that willingly take their money, and employees sense it in how some of their customers treat them. Coaches deal with it in the players they coach. Police deal with it in how citizens communicate to them.
And people holding public office deal with it as they seek to serve the citizens. In Michigan I served on our community’s school board for five years. I don’t remember anyone coming to one of our monthly school board meetings to affirm us on a tough decision, or to thank us for leading our community in the constant pursuit of quality education.
Respect is what each one of us desires to receive, but not as open to give. In our President’s last seven months of office I’m sure he will make some decisions that I don’t agree with, but he will always have my respect.
It’s interesting to me that in the negativity of our culture and the polarization of our beliefs that we seldom anymore hear these words: I respectfully disagree!
Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Freedom, Humor, love, Nation, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Air Force Academt graduation, Air Force Academy, difference of opinion, disrespect, political differences, popular vote, President, President Obama, Republican, respect, respectfully disagree
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May 29, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 29, 2016
“The Apostles’ Creed” came into its fullest and complete form about thirteen hundred years ago. It has been the church’s statement of faith ever since…kind of!
The statement begins with the words “I believe in…” (I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son…)
In recent times, especially in American culture…in the church and in general…what is believed has taken a tumble. What is believed resonates with personal choice. With the beginning words of the Apostles’ Creed in mind, today’s statement of belief could very well begin with the words “I believe in what I like, and I don’t believe in what I don’t like.”
Like a six year old staring with a turned up lip at a serving of spinach on his plate, we are prone to judge something as unlikeable. We lump the “unlikeable” together if they are even remotely connected to what it is we really don’t like. For example, if Chris Tomlin comes out with a new worship song that resembles a hymn there will be some people who won’t like it because…follow the flow here!…Chris Tomlin usually composes praise and worship music, and the person doesn’t like praise and worship music.
At both Trump and Clinton political rallies protestors have tried to disrupt the proceedings because they don’t like the candidates. Freedom of speech has been demoted to the back backseat with Grandma in importance, compared to what people like!
“Likes”, a very small word, has taken on prominence, as well as become confusing. Every day on Facebook I’m faced with responding to someone’s post by clicking “Like.” A young lady I know just got hired on for a new teaching position, so I gave her a thumbs up and clicked “Like.” But a little while later someone else mentions that his brother just passed away. I want to come alongside him as he journeys through this, so I once again click “Like.” I was confused by the whole thing. Clicking “Like” sounded like I was delighted by his loss, when I was really just trying to be supportive.
“I believe in what I like” is fickle. It’s like a girlfriend you had in sixth grade, totally awesome and soon to be replaced! I used to like knee-high athletic socks to go with my extremely short athletic shorts. Now I look at those pictures and chuckle, as well as try to keep them hidden from family and friends!
Try this on for size! If a person doesn’t have a solid belief system, he/she is like the Sunday newspaper left outside to be blown one way or another by the wind. When I say “belief system”, I’m not just talking about Christian convictions, but rather life convictions…life beliefs that anchor me from being carried away by today’s biggest “like.”
For example, do we believe, regardless of our disagreement about a political candidate’s stand on health care, military might, Social Security, or education…do we believe in democracy? Do we believe in freedom of speech, or just when someone is saying something that we like?
Do we believe in freedom for all, or just for those who we agree with, or we like?
Do we believe in the grace of God, or do we believe in limited grace, dependent on if we think someone deserves it…or we like the person?
What are the beliefs that we hold that are non-negotiable, that we will always hold on to regardless of the winds of circumstances? Carol and I are two months away from celebrating our 37th anniversary, and there are things we don’t like about one another! What!!!!
I don’t like it when she picks a crouton off my salad, but I don’t slap her hand. She doesn’t like it when I use a piece of dental floss multiple times, but she doesn’t slap me in the face. Our love for one another anchors us even when we’re not always on the same page. In the next election we may even cancel each other’s vote out!
But our love for one another has become like that old oak in the park that is strong, rooted, and consistent. It may sport some scars from the storms of the years, but it’s solid and dependable.
Perhaps that’s a good picture of where our culture and our churches are right now. That too often we resemble sixth grade romances instead of 37 year old marriages!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, marriage, Nation, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: belief system, Chris Tomlin, culture, Donald Trump, Facebook, Facebook Likes, Hillary Clinton, Like, political campaigns, praise and worship music, religious beliefs, sixth grade romance, spinach, The Apostles' Creed, unlikeable
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May 25, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 25, 2016
Just when life seems to be less complicated, procedures dot the schedule that make me bite my fingernails. I’m sitting in a waiting room of a medical building where Carol is having a colonoscopy. Oh joy!
She has informed me that I’m next! I heard it kind of like when the school secretary at Victory Heights Elementary In Winchester, Kentucky, told me I was next in the line of condemned students to see Mr. Sterling, the school principal with a strong forehand. I had thrown wet paper towels in the school restroom the previous day…and been caught! A night of no sleep had preceded my waiting room experience. I had tried to feign sickness that morning at home to no avail, kind of like trying to find a reason for canceling a colonoscopy!
Now Carol was looking at me like I had late homework that i was trying to turn in.
“You’re next!” her eyes shouted.
“ But what if I don’t wanta’!”
Not a safe and healthy response. As Carol goes through her procedure, refusing to have one myself is not an option.
As we age life takes on a different kind of “complicated” to it. I played basketball with the boys on my seventh grade team a couple of days ago. As I climbed the steps from the school gym on the lower level back to the man floor my right knee protested. “Protests” by various parts of my body seem to be as numerous as protestors at Trump and Clinton rallies. Acid reflux protests against the spaghetti with meat sauce I ate for lunch; my back protests at the bags of weed and feed I carried in; my teeth protest against the Enstrom’s almond toffee candy that I love to bite down on; and my bladder protests the amount of coffee I consumed, but then I’m the victim of a conspiracy protest as I stand at the urinal and can’t…you know!
Life is going down a different aisle of crowded and congested nowadays. When I was pastoring it seemed that each day was filled with appointments, deadlines, visits, meetings, and mad rushes. I longed for quiet moments and an empty schedule. Now many of my days are filled with…the complication of no complications. That means, I have so many possibilities of how the day might proceed, so many books that could be read, people that I’’m thinking about seeing, projects that I’m thinking about beginning…that I sometimes get frustrated for not achieving any of the possibilities. Dinnertime arrives and I shake my head over the fact that I wasted the day.
Don’t get me wrong! I enjoy the freedom of retirement, but I’m still adjusting to the life schedule changes. When you pastor for a long, long time everything revolves around it. Transitioning from ministry, many days, feels like trading in our Honda for a Schwinn (Do they still makes Schwinn bikes?). It’s a different pace that requires a different kind of energy.
Mondays used to be my day off. Now Monday is the day after Sunday, which has been the day…twice a month, I’ve preached at a small church forty-five minutes away from us. It used to be that Monday was my day of recovery from a week of ministry before starting the next week of ministry. Now Monday is the day I don’t need to recover. It’s the day I go to Starbucks at 7:15 in the morning, sit in my favorite seat at the end of the counter that looks out at Pike’s Peak, and write for a couple of hours as I drink a few cups of Pike Place…and then endure the protests at the urinal!
The complications of an uncomplicated life!
Carol is now out of her procedure and is giving me the look…the “You’re next look!” Ugh!
Categories: children, Christianity, Death, Freedom, Humor, marriage, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized
Tags: aced reflux, aching body parts, aching joints, Aging, back problems, colonoscopy, complications, conspiracy, Engstrom's almond coffee, Kentucky, life transitions, medical procedures, Mondays, Old age, Pike Place coffee, protests, school principal, Schwinn, Starbucks, Starbucks coffee, Victory Heights Elementary, Winchester
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May 22, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 22, 2016
Our fourteen month old granddaughter, Corin, is in the midst of that exciting and exhausting stage of discovery where she wants to try or touch everything…but not for very long. Right now her attention span is about as long as a squirrel’s. Sitting still is not in her daily agenda. Sitting still is for old people!
So I made the mistake of helping her discover the play slide in her backyard last night. Here’s the procedure: Pick Corin up, lean with her forward and place on slide, continue to lean forward as she grabs and my hands with her hands, watch her slide while still in bent position making sure she is safe at bottom.
Repeat!
Repeat!
Repeat!
Repeat!
I was the “ski lift” taking the barefoot skier back to the top. Every time she reached the bottom she pointed back to the top. Obviously, she had heard of the all-day ski pass; one price covers all…or, in this case, one granddad lifts each time.
But this granddad does not have a mechanical back, but rather a sixty-two year old rickety body part that I would compare to the wooden roller coaster at Camden Park in Huntington, West Virginia. It’s still standing, but I wouldn’t trust it.
Let me tell you! A fourteen month old who is being lifted, seated, and supported in sliding down a four foot slide wants to do it forever! She knows…probably…that stopping will mean that Grammy will grab a tissue and wipe her nose, and she hates for her nose to be wiped. She knows that Granddad will keep doing what he is doing until there is a system malfunction. She’s a smart cookie who knows that her granddad isn’t smart enough to say “Enough!”
So this morning “LB” (lower back) is grumbling to me about having to work overtime. “LB” is going to be moaning and groaning, like a teenager asked to do work around the house, all day about how much I love Corin more than him…and he’s right!
Deal with it, LB! Deal with it!
Categories: children, Freedom, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized
Tags: being a grandfather, Camden Park, grandchildren, kid's slides, play slides, sacrifice, ski lifts, slides
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May 21, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 20, 2016
Excuse me for being blunt, but stomach viruses suck! They are a nauseating form of “unloading.” I’ve been the “Baptist priest” a few times over the years for people going through 12-step programs, and the fifth step is a time of confession. It’s the unloading of all the “stuff” that they’ve done.
Stomach viruses are the unloading of all the stuff that has accumulated. Unfortunately for me I had a large dinner just a few hours before the virus raised its ugly head. It will be a while before I can look at stuffed baked potatoes again!
I won’t go into details about my kneeling positions for a day, but let’s just say the refrigerator was safe from me invading it for a whole day. I got a lot lighter in a short amount of time. It was not pretty! I was not pretty!
Yesterday afternoon I started getting hungry again. Last night was my first meal in two days: wood plank salmon cooked on the grill, with asparagus and white rice.
Today I’m reflecting on the experience…not the porcelain throne kneeling moments, but rather the similarities between unloading all the stuff in our life and coming back to a point of being spiritually hungry.
We have that tendency, that habit, of filling our lives with “the stuff” of the world…the craving for more money, the lust for more power and prestige, for things that aren’t beneficial, for moments of escape from reality that distort our view of that reality. And then we have, what I call a “Come To Jesus Moment”, where sometimes by our own choice, but, more often than not, because of someone else’s pressure, we come clean. It’s an excruciating experience that we feel ashamed about as we throw up all the deception and garbage that we’ve been hiding.
And yet it is a freeing experience as well! Confession is good for the soul, and yet we rarely come to it of our own volition. It’s like a colonoscopy that we dread like crazy, but after having it experience a peace of mind that everything is okay. (My wife has one next week, so I thought I would just thrown that example in there.)
And then…there is the point where we reach “hunger” again. The grace of God and forgiveness of God wrapped in the love of the saints brings us to that point in the journey where we seek to stay on the path…to go deeper…to experience a drawing close to the Holy. It’s a special time, unobstructed by what I’ve allowed to block the way. Words from the Word take on special meaning. Prayer becomes a time of listening and less of talking. Worship becomes more intimate, less noisy, and not defined by a church bulletin.
It’s a place we want to stay at, and yet we know we won’t. In the midst of the hunger we know that there will be some of those other urges that gradually creep in. Hopefully we will learn from what we have just been through and be wiser because of it. Hopefully the hunger for spiritual nourishment will guide our coming days, that the kneeling we will be doing will be more about surrendered worship and less about remorse.
And so we journey freer…for now…comforted by the fact that the grace of God goes with us, and his peace is upon us.
Stomach viruses still suck, but at least it made me think!
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Jesus, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
Tags: coming clean, confession, deception, fifth step, forgiveness, grace of God, hunger, hungering for God, porcelain throne, repentance, sick, sickness, spiritual hunger, virus
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May 17, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 17, 2016
“Baptist Mom Guilt and God-Leadings”
Last week my cell phone rang at 5:55 A.M. It was Amy, the lady who assigns substitute teaching positions. Usually the automated call comes at 5:45, so I had drifted back to sleep, thinking that there would not be an assignment for the day.
When the phone rang I answered and, with a hint of desperation, Amy’s voice greeted me with a “Good morning!”, and asked me if I was available to teach a third grade class that day. I had just been through a two-day first grade gauntlet, so I said that I would pass. Her voice carried subdued disappointment in it as she said good-bye.
I laid back down and then I felt led to call her back and say I would do it. She was overjoyed, as well as relieved, and I prepared for a day of corralling third graders.
Later on that day it hit me! It wasn’t a leading from the Lord that had caused me to call her back. It was “Baptist Mom Guilt!” BMG!
If you’ve been raised Baptist, especially independent or Southern Baptist, or Catholic, or one of a few other church backgrounds, it is very likely you know what I’m talking about. Baptist Mom Guilt is that loud inner voice that tells you to do something that you have no intention of doing.
Christians speak quite often about being led by the Lord or led by the Holy Spirit. For me, it is often difficult to differentiate the voice of God from the voice of my mom in decisions that are made.
For instance, even though it has been several years, this was a meal-time dialogue with my mom:
“Bill, do you want more squash casserole?”
“No, I think I’ve had enough, Mom.”
“There is just a little bit left.”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Just enough to dirty the dishwater!”
“No, thank you.”
“There are children around the world who are hungry, but you want me to just throw this last bite of casserole away?”
“I’m just full, Mom.”
“So you didn’t like the squash casserole?”
“It was great, Mom.”
“If it was great then have this last bite.”
“Okay! Okay! I’ll take it.”
I loved my mom. She was an awesome woman, who is now whispering in the ear of God, seeing if he would like that last bite of the heavenly squash casserole. (Not really, but I can envision her standing in Glory with a serving spoon in her hand.) She knew how to get my siblings and me to do things…Baptist Mom Guilt!
And the thing is…there are a number of times each day when I hear her voice as I’m making a decision. Since I’m not substitute teaching this morning I’ll probably go home and “be led” to vacuum the family room, and do a load of laundry. I’ll hear the inner voice saying, “Why are you relaxing? Don’t just sit there. Do something!”
There are some Sundays where Baptist Mom Guilt drives me to church. Some mornings BMG causes me to withstand the temptation to wear the same pair of underwear for two days in a row. It also makes me clean my dinner plate, brush my teeth, and pick up my socks.
So how do I know that I’m being led by the Holy Spirit, as the Book of Acts so often describes what happened in events of the lives of the apostles, and how do I know it’s Baptist Mom Guilt?
I think I’ve figured out a few things…maybe! If what I’m being lead to do alleviates feeling bad about myself it is probably a moment of BMG. If what I’m being led to do helps someone draw closer to God, or experience the unconditional love of God it has a great possibility of being a God-leading. If the leading begins with the words “I ought to…” it is probably Baptist Mom Guilt raising its parental head. If it is a leading that is framed in a thought that says, “I don’t quite understand this, but…”, it could very well be the leading of the Holy Spirit.
If it is a leading that results from a Sunday morning plea that says, “If we don’t get more volunteers, we can’t…”, beware! If it is a leading from someone’s heart cry that says, “I’m looking for a few people to join me on a new ministry journey of…”, listen closely!
I’m still figuring out this whole discernment thing! The good thing is that I’ve come to grips with how Mom still speaks to me. I remember the conversations of love being expressed, the two-layered coconut birthday cakes made, sitting between her and Dad in church, and I weigh those pictures and memories against the bite of squash casserole left in the dish…and it’s all good! It’s all good!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Holy Spirit, Humor, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Baptist guilt, Baptist Mom Guilt, being led by the Spirit, casseroles, Catholic, cleaning your plate, discernment, feelings of guilt, God-leadings, guilt, guilty, led by the Lord, parental guilt, parental influence, Southern Baptists
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May 15, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 15, 2016
I recently wrote a blog post on “The New Sanctuaries: Fields, Courts, and Rinks”, in which I referred to the sites of athletic events as being now the primary focus of people’s worship on Sunday mornings- worshiping the games their kids are playing, that is!
As I thought about the craziness of kid’s sports now it made me go to the next question: Is there something that people are looking for at Sunday soccer fields and volleyball courts that they don’t think a church worship experience can give them?
What is missing in our worship sanctuaries that adults think they are finding at a soccer game between eight year old boys?
Let me begin to answer that by saying that there are a lot of questions inside the questions. It’s like the water hose in my backyard, which, although only one hose, seems to have the ability to inherit multiple tangles and knots.
The chaos of the situation is knotted into our sin nature. What is meant for good, for our enjoyment and delight, is quite often distorted by our natural ability to get our priorities screwed up. I say that to allow us to get our red flags out of storage and ready to be raised into the air. When anything or anyone becomes the dominant element of our lives besides God the likelihood of getting things messed up becomes assured.
There is something else going on here! There is the need for magical experiences, the reliving in more personal ways the NCAA Basketball tournament’s song “One Shining Moment.” Magical is the cultural term that masks the spiritual. What people are looking for is a spiritual experience, but we think we can some how receive it by watching our son win a race, or our daughter stroking a double down the line. It allows us to receive a short-lived sense of delight, a sigh of satisfaction. For many of us, our lives are simply a series of satisfied sighs jumbled together with tangled turmoil.
I’m a substitute teacher, but I’m not the real thing. I fill in, but the amount of learning that students receive on days I’m subbing does not come close to when the real teacher is there. The real teacher sees the whole school year, knows the direction, the needs and journey. In the same way the “God-need” that each one of us has gets substituted with other things. Short spurts of happiness become worshiped and craved instead of seeking the joy of the Lord. And we come to a point where we begin to believe that is what life is about!
Here’s the last thing to ponder! Wherever the elements of “privilege” and “pressure” are evident approach with caution. Wherever the elements of “grace” and “forgiveness” are present travel towards.
In another year or two my grandson will be old enough to tryout for a “traveling soccer team.” It will be communicated as a privilege…and there will be more demands attached to it. More expense, more time, and his family will be told that it needs to be a higher priority for their whole family. The flattery of being asked to be on the team will be anchored to more expectations. There will be the pressure to conform. Statements will begin with words like “If you expect…” and “If you want…”, and will end with the phrase “…your son must do these things.” Many parents will fall for the trap, not to emerge again for several years.
The elements of grace and forgiveness never pressure and never trumpet their privilege. They accept and are grounded in the love of God. As a result, they are often minimized in their importance. No goals get scored with grace, and forgiveness is lousy on defense. And yet, the path to the deeper “God-need” that each of us has travels directly through them.
This morning I’ll be in worship, connecting with my Lord who forgives and shows me grace. This afternoon I’ll referee two youth basketball games where forgiveness and grace will get stuffed into a ball bag and hidden behind a bench.
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Jesus, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: magical, messed up priorities, misplaced priorities, One Shining Moment, Sunday worship, worshiping sports, youth soccer, youth sports
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May 14, 2016
WORDS FROM W.W. May 13, 2016
In recent weeks I’ve been substitute teaching in several elementary classrooms. I’ve observed tendencies and oddities that make me ponder the methods of educating kids. Last week I had a kindergarten class where multiple boys fell out of their seats numerous times during the day, but not a single girl took a spill. Why would that be?
One of my former college classmates, Cyndi Faur, had given me an idea that I had put into practice that hit upon the epidemic of chair-clumsy boys. It concerned recess. She suggested that I write the word “R-E-C-E-S-S” on the board and tell them that if their actions and focus were excellent that each of the letters would mean an extra two minutes of recess. Inappropriate behavior took letters off the board.
I tried that a couple of times, and then I switched to writing a letter on the board every fifteen minutes when there was good behavior and focused work.
If you want to help elementary kids stay focused give them the possibility of more recess. This past week I was back in the same building where I had subbed for first grade a couple of weeks ago. A few of the students saw me and ran up to give me hugs. “Mr. Wolfe!” they shouted as they saw me on the playground. They remembered me, not for my math prowess, but rather for the fact that I gave them a few extra minutes of recess.
“Recess” means “retreat” or “withdraw”. Growing up, youth retreats were the ultimate. Going away for a weekend with our youth group, retreating from the busyness of Ironton, Ohio for two days…those experiences were the mountaintops of my high school years! Retreats readied us for the weeks of school, the struggles of being teenagers in the midst of a world that was sending us all kinds of mixed messages.
Kids need retreats! They need breaks from the classroom. They need five extra minutes of getting that energy out. Five extra minutes of being let loose from the bridle of the daily phonogram lesson.
And here’s the thing! It doesn’t stop with elementary school students. All of us need more recesses…a few more minutes to retreat…even to let loose.
God created us that way. All work and no play makes Billy a very somber boy! All work and no retreat gives us a grayness that hangs over us like a Charlie Brown rain cloud.
I saw a picture of a church that has a kid’s play area in the sanctuary. I’ve got to think a little more about that one…like will we have to keep the adult kids out of there?… but perhaps churches should think about adult play areas, places of recess. Those youth retreats I referenced…some of the best times during those weekends revolved around just being together for a few moments of laughter and conversation. We draw close to God as faith journeyers as we walk through crises together, but also as we laugh, talk, learn, and play together. Shallow relationships focus on one aspect, instead of all the parts of the journey.
The small church in the small rural community that I travel to two Sundays a month to speak concludes each service with about 30 minutes of cake and coffee. Since there’s only about 20 people it is informal, punctuated with laughter, and blessed with awesome cakes from a lady named Betty (Crocker). In many ways it is the recess from the week for the farmers and hard-working people of that congregation. No one leaves right the benediction. Everyone stays. Everyone recesses.
There’s something sacred about that.
Back to school! I was the sub for a third grade class this week. They earned extra time at both recesses, but what may have stuck in the minds of several of the boys was the fact that I joined in with them each recess with the games of “Four Square.” Some of them looked at me differently after recess…like “Wow! Even teachers like recess!”
Yes, most of us do! And not just because I knew we had to do science when we got back to class!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Betty Crocker, elementary school, Ironton, play time, recess, rest, retreat, retreats, School recess, teaching, time off, withdraw, youth retreats
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Words from WW Blog 