Archive for the ‘Grace’ category

Plan and Adjust

June 25, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                             June 24, 2013

 

Plan and Adjust”

 

Today was our first day of basketball camp and construction projects here in the Herrera area of Santo Domingo. It was a day of adjustments. Kevin Hodges, heading up our construction crew ended up using his plumbing skills half the day… changing out a faucet…fixing a toilet…each a necessary thing that needed to be done…each a needed thing for the school we are at that serves 400 children.

The rest of the construction team ended up painting three classrooms in the school that were desperately in need of a new coat.

The basketball camp staff adjusted and adjusted. There, evidently, was some misunderstanding between the school principal and the students. Students were told that they could only come to one session of camp this week. She meant one sessions each day, either 8:30-10:00, 10:30-12:00, or 1:30-3:00. But some of the students misunderstood and thought she meant they could only come once…in other words, one day…the whole week. Our first session only had 9 kids come, but then our second session had about 25, and our third session 30. Evidently, word began to get out. When our afternoon session began, however…time-wise, there was only one boy there. We figured out it’s because it was raining at the time. Campers waited until the rain stopped. No parents were driving up to the school and dropping their kids off. No one drives up to the school except delivery trucks and motorbikes.

But by the end one had grown to thirty.

One of our groups meets in the sanctuary on the top floor. It’s cooler there, but the tin roof above it has openings that allow large puddles of rainwater to fall onto the floor. Teaching basketball in the sanctuary is fine, unless it rains. Then we must suddenly adjust so we can avoid people slipping and falling in the water.

So we went into Monday with a plan that quickly changed.       Plan and adjust, plan and adjust.

The student team members have been great. Sydney and Garrett Cunfer shared their testimonies in worship of Sunday. Samantha McKinney is a sweetheart to always wants to help people. Emily Lundquist is adjusting to situations as much as she needs to keep tabs on her diabetes and stay monitored. Hannah Lundquist is doing awesome as a basketball helper. Mason Ripple hooped it up with the young boys close his age; and Megan Lundquist got almost as much paint on the walls as she got on herself today…all with a smile.

We’ve adjusted to Dominican plumbing limitations. I will avoid explaining that too much here. We’ve also adjusted to showers that are two degrees warmer than cold, but feel surprising refreshing.

I adjusted quickly to Dominican coffee. Excellente’!

We’re adjusting to having translators, and we’re learning certain words that are helping us communicate.

God is in the adjustments! We’ll see if he has a different plan for Tuesday!

Rhythm Preaching

June 24, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                     June 23, 2013

Our first full day in Santo Domingo was full of new experiences and meeting new friends. We worshiped with The Church of the Liberator, which meets on the top floor of Grace School in the area known as Herrera. The top floor, depending on who you talk to, is the fourth or fifth floor of the building. It is actually the rooftop with a metal roof above it. That may not make sense..unless you’ve been there!

I had the privilege of giving the sermon. It happened to be the 34th anniversary of my ordination service…but it was the first time I had ever preached with a translator. Reuben, a twenty-one year old Dominican student, who was a high school exchange student for a year in Minnesota, stood by my side and we started. The text I read was from John 9:1-9 about the blind man who Jesus made spit mud for and placed on his eyes. He follows Jesus’ instruction to go to the Pool of Siloam and wash it off, and when he does he can see.

I began cautiously. One of our young people said, “Wow, Pastor Bill! Just like back at our church…they didn’t laugh at your jokes either!” She was kidding…I think.

I talked about being blind to what Jesus is doing, and Reuben followed closely behind. I gave a phrase, and Reuben repeated. We got to a point where it seemed almost natural, like inhaling and exhaling.

Whenever I mentioned that Jesus frees the enslaved, or gives sight to the blind, or takes the burdened and gives them release…and then Reuben translated…there was a chorus of “amens” from the Dominican congregation.

The Church of the Liberator is attended by people who have experienced liberation. It is not a white collar suburban congregation, or a contemporary emergent generational church with high-quality graphics and sound. It is not a high-church congregation that prints off a 12 page bulletin each Sunday. Rather, it is a congregation of people who understand in new and transformational ways the rhythm of God in their lives.

Reuben and I preached. We danced the story of release of the captives. Pastor Osvaldo prayed a prayer of blessing over me, and he closed the service with a closing prayer of thanksgiving for the blessings of God, the grace of God, the gospel of God that The Church of the Liberator is proclaiming.

And to that, both Reuben and I say “Amen!”

First Dominican Lesson Learned

June 23, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                    June 23, 2013

 

Our mission team arrived in Santo Domingo safely tonight, except for one bag and one team member. Jeff was meeting us in Miami, but got delayed in Georgia. Hopefully,, he will join us tomorrow.

My first Dominican lesson was learned before we even got on our team bus at the airport. One man asked me for a tip as our bags were finishing being loaded on the bus. I assumed he was an airport porter, so I reached into my pocket and got my wallet out. He said “Twenty!” So “Mister Clueless” gave him a $20 bill.

Then he had a friend standing there also, who I cluelessly assumed was also a porter.

$20 for him!”

My first Dominican lesson cost me $40! It was only after my wallet was lighter that it dawned on me that I had been taken.

When you look clueless, people looking for someone who IS clueless pounce. Losing a quick forty can suddenly make you wiser as you grow poorer. But one of the things about the Dominican Republic is that there are a lot of people…a lot of people who live on the fringe of survival. Sometimes survivak fringe is a place where boundaries are loosened and people do what they need to do to get by.

Understand that we were greeted by many friendly smiling people, genuinely happy that we are here in their land, but we are also acutely ignorant of systems, customs, and tendencies.

Lesson one learned. On to lesson two and more tomorrow!

Being The Student As You Are Teaching Others

June 19, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                      June 19, 2013

 

Everyone of us learn in different ways. Some are audio learners; they simply have to hear it. Others are visual; there has to be a picture for them to see. Still others have to be hands-on, they have to be touching something for it to click in their heads.

On Saturday I head to Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, as a part of a sixteen person mission team that will be conducting basketball camps and doing construction projects at Grace School in Herrera, and inner city area of city. I go to teach and preach, to help children discover new things, to speak about the love of God and hope of Christ.

But I go as a student who will be teaching others!

How often does that happen? For me, quite often. I learn as I lead. I go as the “expert” who will end up being taught more than he imparts. It demands a sense of “teachability.” How often did Jesus meet with the teachers of the law who were going to teach him a thing or two? There were a few moments where the teacher was taught by the Teacher, but most of the time it seems that the teachers got angered at the idea that Jesus either knew more than them, or that he didn’t agree with them.

Teachers need to be taught. If not they become hardened opinionated “sticks-in-the-mud!”

I’ll be going into a completely different culture where life happens each day in a different kind of normal than I’m used to. Not normal for me is a Starbucks shop that is empty. This is going to challenge my understanding of not-normal.

Different language! I barely passed Spanish in high school, and that happened only because I could cheat off Betsy Wolfe’s paper in front of me. (No relation!) I’ll be learning every day. The excitement of learning will be tempered with a fear that I inadvertently say something that “You mama’s breath smells like cow dung!” I wonder how that would go over?

Lord, help me know when to just nod my head! Help me to communicate non-verbally in ways that speak the love of Christ! Lord, help me to learn things that I never knew; and experience things that will transform me as a follower of Jesus!”

It’s going to be awesome, and I hear they have good coffee there as well!

Christian Chat Rooms

June 17, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                          June 17, 2013

I’m not a Chatty Cathy when it comes to talking to people on-line. It just seems a little too weird.  Of course, a lot of things seem weird to me. Reality TV is an experience in weirdness. Having a pet snake is weird to me. $150 a pair sneakers are weird. Having to pay more for airport parking as a result of a flight being delayed is weird…and a rip-off. Painting your face the colors of the team you’re cheering on is weird.

But that’s just me! My wife thinks I’m weird because I used to listen to my Pepsi after pouring it into a glass. I rarely drink Pepsi anymore so it’s a weird trait that I’ve been cured of. I sleep with my own personal blanket. I agree, that’s weird, but keep your hands off!

Recently I got linked up with a type of “chat room” for obnoxious Christians. It’s one of those on-line groups where you can comment on a theological question like “Will there be dogs in heaven…and will they still poop?”

Questions that are being asked by the masses.

I didn’t know I was getting into a group of cantankerous Christians. LinkedIn had suggested it to me. Now I’m not sure if they suggested it because I was judged as being cantankerous or because I’m listed as a pastor…or, it just occurred to me, I’m a cantankerous Baptist pastor.

Whatever the reason the contributors of this on-line group go at one another! A person’s salvation is often questioned. There are suggestions of having an on-line fight with a person’s “virtual dukes.” It gets nasty. People put certain words in capital letters to emphasize that they are more Christ-like. Today someone commented how amazed he was that so many people in the group reject what the word of God PLAINLY says!

A recent topic was “Do I have to baptized to go to heaven?” For every capitalized “NO” there was a capitalized in bold print “YES!!!!” People threw scripture around like it’s a battering ram.

It’s an experience in a lack of on-line hospitality.

Last week’s question on “Once saved, always saved” was more heated than my hot tub. The one before that on women’s ordination had more emotion than the Presidential debates.

If the Council of Jerusalem had been like this they never would have debated Gentiles being a part of the faith. There would have been blood on the debate floor before they ever got to that point.

And the thing is everyone in this group is a follower of Jesus. It just seems that some believe they are following more closely than others…like they are touching the fringe of Jesus’ cloak while others are following at a distance because THEY PLAINLY HAVE FALLEN ASTRAY!!!

I haven’t supplied a comment or opinion to any of the questions yet. I’ve got to let my self-confidence rise a little bit more before I do that. Otherwise I may get torn to shreds and have to be saved and baptized again THE RIGHT WAY!

Bottom line: I’m amazed at how Christians treat one another. I have always believed that we are to hate the sin and love the sinner, but this group have gone to the next level: Hate the sin and really hate the one who disagrees with you!

The Dad Effect

June 16, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                    June 16, 2013

It’s Father’s Day, a special day where it’s okay for dads to watch back-to-back football games…except it’s not football season. Obviously the placement in June of Father’s Day was a conspiracy created by moms who felt guilty that they had a day that honored them…but not too guilty!

Our dads affect us in different ways. This has been a hard week for me, knowing that my dad has been in a Huntington, West Virginia hospital for part of it with heart problems…while I’m here in Colorado within a couple of miles of the devastating fires. I was able to talk to him on the phone today. He sounded tired and he promised me that he had his feet up as he was watching the U.S. Open golf tournament on TV.

I see the remnants of my dad’s mark upon my life in numerous ways. For instance, I like a freshly groomed lawn. I didn’t learn that from Home and Garden magazine. It came from my dad. Even today as an eighty-five year old he has I nicely manicured yard, although it is now my brother-in-law, Mike, who does the cutting on it.

He exercised patience. Grilling hamburgers was meant to be done with care and attention. The patties were even turned carefully. A neck tie was to be tied until it was right. Polished shoes for Sunday church was not to be rushed. I can see it today with how he cares for my mom, who is now bed-ridden. He feeds her dinner, a process that requires a good forty-five minutes if Mom is cooperating; more if she decides not to. Dad doesn’t press. When Mom’s attention fades he very gently draws her back to the present. People will tell you that I’m a patient person. You have to be to coach girls’ basketball, but I learned it from watching my father. Although I have some of his patience, I am not on the same level as him. For instance, I’ve encouraged him not to make spaghetti for Mom at dinner time ever again- an experience in torturous perseverance.

My dad is about as friendly as you can be. When he is able to attend Sunday worship at church people’s spirits are raised just by his presence. People have described me as friendly. I would like to think that a big part of that trait comes from my Dad’s influence upon me. To him everyone has value, and everyone needs a friend. Although he is a long-time Democrat he makes Republicans feel listened to and valued.

Perhaps most of all, my dad has affected my spiritual walk. We always went to church when I was a kid. If we weren’t home we were usually at church…Wednesday night, Sunday morning, Sunday night. But church attendance wasn’t an indicator of his faith. I remember countless times walking into the kitchen/dining room of our house and seeing his Bible and Sunday School teacher’s guide laying open on the table. We always prayed at dinner. When I travel back to southern Ohio to visit now I feel honored when he asks me to say the blessing for dinner, although I am deeply moved when I hear the words of a prayer coming from his lips. Being a pastor I have tried to never use guilt with my kids about church…although I’m sure that there have probably been a few times through the years when I have been guilty of using guilt. I desire for each of them to have a faith walk, which isn’t necessarily the same as a church attendance sheet. My hope is that I’ve been a good example for them, a person of conviction and faith. If so, the influence of my father has extended to two generations, and now with our two grandkids, both who battle to say meal grace, three generations.

I’m extremely fortunate to have a dad, and the dad that I’ve had. I think of the increasing percentage of children who now have absentee fathers, or don’t even know their dads, and I think, who will be the person to step into the gap for them?

Thank you, Pops! Thanks for being real, not put-on. Thanks for keeping high standards, and expecting your kids to have high standards. Thanks for loving us even when we were unlovable.

Drinking Coffee With A Bad Tongue

June 14, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                 June 14, 2013

This morning has its challenges! I’m trying to drink my first cup of coffee. That’s not usually a challenge, but today each sip does not have that soothing effect.

I got drilled yesterday in the mouth! No, it wasn’t a bar fight, or…bringing back some bad memories…I didn’t take a softball in the jaw.

I went to the dentist, and before she drilled me she gave me about eighty shots to numb the back of my mouth and close to my tongue. Even though that was yesterday mid-afternoon, this morning my tongue is still feeling the effects. It feels like it laid out in the beach in the sun all afternoon, and now anything that touches it gets a reaction.

Let me take another sip! (pause)

Ouch! Still sensitive.

I feel like Napoleon Dynamite whining about Chapstick.

A friend called me after I got home from the dentist yesterday. I sounded like Sylvester the Cat trying to properly pronunciate. “T’s” are hard to pronoun when you have a bad “t’hongue!” Sufferin succotash!

Some might ask why I’m drinking coffee if it is painful? Because it is a part of my daily routine. It’s what I do! It is a little weird tilting my head to the right and trying to swallow with the caffeine avoiding the left side of my tongue, but I’m halfway through my mug and I’ve only screamed like a baby once.

My fear is that I’ll still be talking this way on Sunday. My message will have so many “thou, thine, and thy’s” in it that I may start talking that way out of habit. It’s “thertainty” a possibility.

What happens when it’s hard for a preacher to preach? What happens when it’s painful? You preach carefully.

This coming Sunday will be an experience of that, not because of my “thongue”, but because of the week we have had here. Hundreds of homes destroyed in the Black Forest fire…memories of the Waldo Canyon fire from one year ago almost to the day…lives altered. When it is hard for a preacher to preach you preach slowly and carefully. Sometimes the preacher doesn’t even need to speak and his words are heard.

The lesson that I’m experiencing this morning of a sensitive tongue may be a personal teaching moment. I long for a little comfort in my mouth. There will be people gathered in worship on Sunday who will long for a little comfort from my mouth. Words that are felt as they are preached become a cool drink of water on parched souls.

I need a “thrink.”

“Two Year Old Praying”

June 10, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                          June 10, 2013

 

Two Year Old Praying”

 

My two year old granddaughter, Reagan, decided she would pray for our shared meal the other day. She started: “T’ank you, God, fo’ this food! And make Granddad stop eating food. Amen!”

My wife started laughing, and I immediately got a perplexed, shocked look on my face.

Why did you pray that Granddad would stop eating food, Reagan?”

Cause he was eating and we hadn’t prayed yet!”

Saying grace before dinner tends to be a bit legalistic for a two year old. Reagan would do well with the Old Testament sacrificial system of procedures and instructions.

You can’t eat food if you haven’t prayed!”

I was sufficiently reprimanded.

A a few minutes later her brother, Jesse, bonked his head on the back of his chair and started whimpering. His sister reached over and laid her hand on his head like she was praying for healing.

Were you praying for your brother?”

Yes! I was praying fo’ him!”

We have a praying granddaughter! She prays for judgment on her grandfather and healing on her brother. I think when I was a kid I reversed those.

And where does her tendency to pray come from? It comes from being a part of a family that prays- prays at mealtime, prays at bedtime, prays in church, prays whenever the situation warrants it, prays just because.

Prayer gets rooted into a kid’s life early on. Yes, prayer for a child becomes an action that reflects what is being practiced in the faith walks of the parents…and even grandparents and teachers…and aunts and uncles.

Just as Reagan caught me sneaking a bite of pizza she already catches on to what is being practiced in the lives of those around her.

Now…I have to be sure she doesn’t catch me sneaking ice cream before dinner! Surely it would bring down the wrath of God!

The Far Side of Church

June 8, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                     June 8, 2013

 

The Far Side of Church”

 

I love laughter, and I love “The Far Side” comic strip. It was a sad day when Gary Larson stopped doing “The Far Side.” Thankfully, my brother had given me “The Far Side Calendar” every year for Christmas for five or six years. When I get depressed or frustrated I take a look at a few of the calendar pages.

I wish I could blame my warped sense of humor on “The Far Side”, but that would be a lie. It was in my genes long before I started looking at funny-faced kids and adults wearing spectacles. And, as a result of that, I think of situations that might occur in church that I think would be funny. Others might not think they are even worth a giggle, but I’m ready to explode.

Like the Sunday several years ago when I asked a dear elderly lady named Pauline Jones to light the advent candle and I gave her a book of matches that had no matches in it. To further the humor I then gave her a second book of matches…that was also matchless!

I think of church pranks, like when I spoke at Ascension Lutheran Church down the street from us on pulpit exchange Sunday and they gave me a bulletin that had the pages mixed up. Page three ended with us singing “Crown Him With Many Crowns”, and then page four…in my bulletin had the second verse of “Spirit of the Living God.”

I can imagine a Far Side entitled “Deacon Pranks” with a picture of a deacon putting Super Glue on the bottom lip of a communion plate, or substituting prune juice for grape juice.

I can picture a wolf dressed up in a suit, wearing a wig and glasses, sitting in church,with the caption underneath “Being a life-long independent Baptist wolf, Peter felt justified in stealing sheep from other flocks.”

I can imagine a baptistry with sharks swimming around a circle within it, and the pastor saying to the fearful-looking teenager “As Paul tells us in Romans …all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death.”

In other words, church needs to encourage finding the lighter side of things.

Ricky, the sound booth humorist, was known to turn off the pastor’s mic in the middle of the sermon and start playing a Richard Pryor tape.”

There’s a time to be serious. There’s a time to share hope and peace. And there’s a time to laugh.

Ted didn’t see the humor in it. The one Sunday he fell alseep in church, the congregation had exited quietly and placed empty clothing on the pews with a sign, ‘Raptured! Sorry you couldn’t come.’”

Solomon wrote that there was “…a time to weep and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:4a).

Look for the humor in church. I believe that it is one step along the journey to experiencing joy.

It’s Friday, And Sunday Is Coming…Again Already!

June 7, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                          June 7, 2013

 

It’s Friday, And Sunday Is Coming…Again Already!”

 

Some people think I’m suspect because I don’t cuss…but I do say “Crap!”

Some people think I’m half a bubble off center because I have a personal “blankie” that I sleep with, and its name is not Carol. Its name is…Blankie! Carol has her personal electric blanket. Its name is not Bill!

And some people think my salvation is suspect because, for one, I preach from a manuscript, and, two, there are some Sundays that are a real struggle to give a word from the Lord. Ask any pastor who is trustworthy and they will tell you that. There are times where the message is about as easy as a root canal. The preparing of it is like being in rush hour traffic where there is no rhythm…stop and go…accelerate and brake.

Years ago Tony Campolo gave a message that he borrowed from an African-American Baptist pastor, entitled “It’s Friday, But Sunday’s Coming!”

Classic! Awesome!

For most pastors there are times, however, when the scream is “It’s Friday, and Sunday is coming again already!”

So soon? Last Sunday might have lifted the roof, but then it’s on to the next Sunday. Pastors are like catchers in baseball. The starting pitchers only appear every fifth game. The third baseman fields four or five grounders or line drives the whole game. But the catcher is in every play. He makes a great stop on a wild pitch, but then it’s on to the next pitch. Catchers don’t take pitches off.

Pastors don’t take Sundays off!

Yes, I know we really do. It’s called vacation, and yet how many times have I heard the joke, “Vacation? You only work one hour one day a week.”

Although said in a teasing way, a lot of people wonder what pastors do between Sunday noon and the next Sunday at 10 A.M. That sense of Baptist guilt stays with me, and so I find myself preaching eight to twelve straight Sundays before I take a Sunday off.

In the Book of Jeremiah (Jeremiah 23) there is a condemning statement made by the Lord towards the false prophets of Jeremiah’s time. A number of them were making claims, or speaking oracles and claiming that they were from God…and God said “No way! That’s not of me!” In Jeremiah 23:34 the Lord says, “I will punish that man and his household!”

Can you envision my Adam’s apple (“laryngeal prominence” for the smarter folk) rising and falling

six inches as I gulp deeply?

So, it’s Friday and Sunday is coming again and the folk who show up at 10:00 for worship are expecting a word from the Lord…and I’m saying to the Lord “Can I get a word? It can be short. It can even be Greek! It can even be in the old King James! Lord, just give me something!”

A fresh word, a new word.

Perhaps you think that this is just some affliction that pastors deal with.

No, it is something any follower of Jesus deals with. Some people want a word, but they’re too busy to hear it. A cell phone in one ear and Coldplay rocking it through the ear bud in their other ear. Or some people want a word in a take-out container, quick and easy. Those are two extreme situations connected to our hyper lifestyles.

But many of us who seek to touch the fringe of Jesus’ robe find ourselves from time to time grasping and missing. We deal with moments of indecision as to what direction God went in.

We want a fresh word, but we’re having a hard time forgiving the jerk who cut us off driving to church. We want a word from the Lord, and yet we’re not ready for the next step that word will take us to.

It’s Friday, and for many of us we long for Sunday, a new beginning…a fresh start. And for others, “Sunday” is an approaching time of uncertainty that we hope…we hope…is fresh wind and new wine!