Archive for the ‘Pastor’ category

Falling Missionaries

June 12, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                 June 11, 2015

                                          

I’ve been consulting with a great mission organization located here in Colorado Springs called Reach Beyond. Reach Beyond is passionate about sharing the words of hope spoken by Jesus, known as the gospel. They minister around the world in numerous cultures, many that are not accepting of the Christian faith or representatives of that faith.

At our of last recent meetings we were gathered in the conference room discussing a new curriculum that the organization is creating that seeks to motivate people to share their faith. Around the room attached to the walls there were about twenty quotes on mini-posters from missionaries, leaders, and pastors from the past and present about the Great Commission and the urgency of sharing the good news of Jesus.

As our discussion got more excited, however, one of the  mini-posters, a quote from Oswald Chambers, suddenly fell off the wall and hit the floor just a slight thud. Jim Elliott followed closely behind. By the end of our meeting four quotes from missionaries or key Christian leaders from the past and present had taken a plunge to the carpeted floor beneath them.

The eight of us who were meeting in the conference room didn’t take it as a sign from God to forget being mission-minded. Instead we saw it as a visual illustration of what has happened to missions in general.

The concern for missions…listen to this, listen…has dropped in many churches, but concern for missions not initiated by the church has seemed to increase. That is, there are more and more people who are not associated with a fellowship of believers who are becoming increasingly interested in missions.

How can that be? Easy! Churches are concerned with paying salaries, operating buildings, establishing programs and ministries…which are not bad things, mind you! Many churches give 10, 15, 20, 30% of their funds to missions. Others gives a token amount.

But many who are not a part of a church have the mindset of supporting missions with 100% of their gift.

There needs to be a happy middle ground in there. Sometimes church ministries and their effect get taken for granted, and missions get forgotten. Jesus commanded his disciples that as they were going to make disciples, and then in Acts 1:8 he said to be his witnesses close to home, in the vicinity, and all over (my paraphrase). We can become location minded in an imbalanced way. What goes on inside the walls of a church building or the living room of a house church is just as important as the mission couple who are being witnesses in the midst of a Japanese culture or West African mission hospital.

When there is imbalance the missionaries fall and the churches falter. It’s a partnership that often gets screwed up.

Jim Elliott got put back on the wall more firmly…more firmly supported…and stayed there the rest of our meeting. Sometimes you just have to hammer the point home a little more for it to stick!

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!

Writing to Dad From 2,000 Miles Away

June 3, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                        June 3, 2015

                                    

(I received word this morning that my dad is in the Emergency Room of a hospital about 2,000 miles away from me.)

Dear Pops!

      I love calling you that when you answer your phone. You always know it is me calling when I greet you with those words, “What do you say, Pops?”

      I wish i could be sitting beside your hospital room bringing a smile to your face with that greeting, but, instead, I’m a couple thousand miles away typing this on my laptop.

      It’s hard to not be close enough to touch you…to wait anxiously for an updated text from someone close at hand. I want you to know that I’m praying for you. When I told Diana, my administrative assistant, about you, see took time out to pray for you…and me! Prayer is something I don’t need training for, just a sense of urgency and taking the initiative to approach the throne of grace.

      Dad, you have always been special to me, but in recent years as I watched you wait upon Mom and make sure that her needs were being met, you became something different.

      Impressive! 

      You held it together when Mom was coming apart. You fed her when she could not feed herself. You listened to her when she could not communicate. You changed her diaper when she soiled herself. 

      You were impressive and impressionable!

       I don’t believe a father can leave a greater gift for his children than a Christ-like handprint for them to remember. Not necessarily a sermon preached, but rather a sermon lived out. Although your heart has issues, your heart for God and people is healthy. When one of my kids tells me that I’m just like my dad I take it as the highest compliment. 

       I remember certain things that you did, like fixing liver and onions for dinner that actually tasted good; startling the neighbors each year when warm weather came by putting on a pair of shorts with those white legs of yours that were a little blinding to the eyes; preparing your Sunday School lesson to teach with your materials and Bible covering the kitchen table; and teaching me how to tie a necktie. 

       Let me confess something to you while I’m thinking about it. I was the one who broke the blade on your pocket knife. You had probably already guessed that, since I tried to scotch tape the broken blade back on. Thirteen year olds think they can cover up anything!

       Dad, I’m praying for strength and recovery. I’m praying for more conversations in the coming days even by phone. 

       Rest…and rest in his arms!

Your Son,

Bill Wolfe

      

Building and Destroying

June 2, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                      June 2, 2015

                                              

Last week I swung by my insurance agent’s office to get a recommendation on a roofing company to call. As I pulled into the parking lot something was different. The two story building next door to theirs was no longer there.

I mean…gone! A dirt-covered empty lot!

It’s interesting when you become accustomed to something being there…and then it isn’t…you are taken back a little bit! In fact, my insurance agent’s one story building suddenly seemed to look smaller because of the vast empty space that now shadowed it to the east.

I asked Michelle, one of my agents, what was going on next door. She said they were going to build some other structure in the coming year on that spot. And then she made this statement:

“You wouldn’t believe it, but it took them less than a day to tear down the building that was there!”

Less than a day!

Six to eight months to build…less than a day to tear it all down!

A reputation is built over a long period of time, but it can be destroyed quickly.

As I think about that, a photo book of faces flashes through my mind of people who have been evidence of that statement. Well-respected, intelligent, esteemed for their leadership, recognized and followed…and then a weakened moment, or a hidden flaw that suddenly was exposed, or a conversation that went viral…and the structure came tumbling down.

It goes without saying that we all fall and stumble. The lives that we build are filled with pockets of errors…some more like chips of the plaster, but others that threaten the stability of tomorrow.

Writing a blog post about building and destroying won’t solve our tendency to screw up our blessedness, but maybe it will be a wake up moment for someone who is teetering on the edge of the cliff.

What is evident about the empty lot by the insurance office is just that! The emptiness of it…where just a few weeks ago there was life being lived, decisions being made, a structure to protect from the uncertain weather elements…and now having to start over from the ground up.

May today be a day of building just one more solid brick on to the firm foundation…a day where we are solid in our thoughts and actions, anchored even deeper to the Foundation!

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!