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Seeing ‘Used To Be’s'”

April 6, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                 April 6, 2013

 

My son and I are in Atlanta this weekend for the NCAA Men’s Basketball Final Four. The Final Four weekend is “an event”, complete with a convention center filled with exhibits, people wearing orange (Syracuse), blue (Michigan), red (Louisville) and gold (Wichita State). There is intense team loyalty. David and I don’t care. We’re just enjoying the event.

Another thing about the Final Four weekend is that there are a lot of tall people walking around. Very tall! For some of them age has not been kind! For others the resemblance of who they are now compared to twenty years ago is striking. Danny Ferry doesn’t look much different now than he did when he played at Duke in the late 80’s. Of course, he looked like he was about 40 when he was in college. Now he looks like he’s about 40 with minimal hair.

I found myself walking around “Bracket Town”, the name of the place where the exhibits are at, looking at tall people and wondering “Did he used to be someone?”No one asks that about 58 year old 5’6” white guys. (Okay! I’m really fix foot six and a half inches!) When you see someone six foot eight you wonder, especially when it is at a place where basketball people congregate.

I saw Rolando Blackman, who has been retired from the NBA for twenty years and yet I recognized him right away. Christian Laettner looks a little more domesticated than when he was going through his “bad boy non-conformist” days. Of course, my opinion is still filtered by my pain over seeing his buzzer beater shot against Kentucky. I was a Big Blue fan back in those days. Laettner was the enemy. Twenty years later it was hard to look at him and still not regard him as the enemy.

But then there were the hundreds of 6’6”, 6’7”, and 6’8” guys who were walking around the Georgia Dome who looked like they might used to have been someone.

Fame is fleeting in this world. People follow you for what you are doing for them currently, not for what you used to do. Our culture is very much a “in the moment” kind of people. History is not valued by many folk. One day in basketball practice I mentioned Larry Bird to my 14 girls who were crowded around me, and I was met with 14 blank looks. I then asked “Doesn’t anyone know who Larry Bird is?”

Fourteen pauses.

And then one brave young lady responded in question form, “Birdman?”

My mouth dropped open. It may have been the first time that someone had confused Chris Anderson with being Larry Bird. History is not valued.

It also tells me that my purpose is not necessarily to be remembered, recognized, or even memorialized, but rather to live my life with purpose, passion, and responsibility. I may not even be recognized as a “used to be”, but God has gifted me, graced me, and called me to make an impact in the lives of others. The impact may happen in small ways, or in one lasting conversation at just the right moment in one person’s life. It may be an impact that happens after a multitude of “reflecting Jesus” moments. The difference between wondering whether that 6’9” balding giant who just passed me use to be somebody and who I am is that I’m called to lead people to knowing and remembering Jesus for now and ever. It’s the best philosophy for a former point guard: Give it to the Big Guy!

Categories: Christianity, Community, Faith, Humor, Jesus, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
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Thursday Agendas

March 28, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                          March 28, 2013

 

We often approach the same event with differing agendas. It’s like going to Lowe’s with Carol. I may be thinking that we’re going there to buy a bag of weed-n-feed, but her agenda is deciding on what new kitchen appliances we’re going to purchase. We enter the front doors and I start heading left…but she’s not following! That’s when she breaks the news to me!

Life often displays our conflicting agendas.

As a pastor I’m often bombarded with them. For instance, I’m thankful that I’m color blind so that I don’t have to be involved in what the color of the new sanctuary carpet is going to be. I have a hard time looking like mis-matched puzzle pieces in what I wear on Sunday morning, let alone knowing whether the carpet looks good or not!

Thursday of Holy Week in an upper room in Jerusalem a group of men with different agendas gathered to partake of the Passover meal. Some of them saw the gathering as a way of impressing the leader. Some of them saw it as a customary meal, like any other passover meal. Some of them saw it as a time to put their feet up. They had been walking a lot lately. An upper room away from the increasing crowds sounded good. One of them knew it was a time of preparation for a difficult time ahead.

Each approached the gathering differently. Only one of them was willing to take the very nature of a servant and wash the feet of the others.

What an awkward moment that must have been, to suddenly realize that one is on a different page than the one who leading! I wonder if there was a few moments of excuses thrown around.

“I was just about to do that, Jesus!”

“What I meant to say was…”

“Next time give me some forewarning. I didn’t know that was what you wanted to see happen.”

“My knees are really bothering me today.”

Thursday was like a traffic intersection where six different streets are converging. So of the mass one agenda, one mission, rose to the surface.

How did the others’ wants and preferences disappear?

Easily! Sometimes comparing wants and needs has a way of sorting out what is really important and what I wish would be important.

Of course, how often do I elevate my desires to the throne, and dismiss the Hope of nations?

I have to remind myself of that when I talk about what I “get out of a worship gathering.” What I tend to trash, someone has seen as being life-changing.

Today I will keep surrendering over and over.

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Uncertain Tuesday

March 26, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                   March 26, 2013

Tuesday of Holy Week is a day of uncertainty. It doesn’t stand out like a sore thumb. Rather, it’s kind of like the finger beside the pinkie- it has purpose to hold my wedding band on, but I’m not sure what else it’s good for. But it’s there!

As a pilgrim on a journey, Palm Sunday is like the opening scenes of a movie, establishing the beginnings of the story, introducing the characters. Thursday and Friday are the days of tension, where the wringing of hands is taking place in the audience. Sunday is the climax, the victory. The forces of good triumph.

But Tuesday…is just there. It’s when the customer leaves the theater to get his popcorn bucket refilled. It’s in the middle, but not quite.

Tuesday is where most of us live. Our lives are full of triumph, tragedy, and resurrection, but most of our life is lived between the highs and lows. Most of our days are lived in the “not yets.”

Moses experienced triumphs and tragedies, but for many years before his burning bush experience we lived in the Tuesdays of life.

The Israelites had a Tuesday that lasted forty years.

David lived most of his childhood and adolescence in “Tuesdays.”

Tuesday is when we are most prone to wander. It is the time when we are most susceptible to losing our focus, or even doubting our focus.

Tuesday isn’t even “hump day.” It’s a day of discouragement. For some it’s the day of just going through the motions.

Holy Week Tuesday is like the child in the family that gets none of the attention, but is expected to be there.

In my walk with God I can pinpoint certain moments that stand out: my baptism on a Sunday night in August at the First Baptist Church of Zanesville, Ohio; youth retreats growing up at Camp Francis Asbury outside of Rio Grande, Ohio; being ordained to the ministry; hearing Tony Camplo speak during Spiritual Enrichment Week at Judson College. I could go on and on…but I won’t! Those events, those moments rise to the surface.

But most of my spiritual journey is not on the peak. In fact, it’s not in the deep valleys as well. It is the space between. Using the Bible as an analogy, it isn’t in the Gospels, but rather in Ecclesiastes, a period that is seemingly void of meaning. Honestly, getting through Ecclesiastes is like trying to read War and Peace in one sitting.

Spiritual journeys require perseverance, stamina, even flexibility. They require a willingness to get through the Tuesdays.

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The Job of Reading Through Job

February 8, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                               February 8, 2013

 

I’m using the One Year Chronological Bible to read through the Bible this year. As it’s name indicates, the scriptures are arranged in order of occurrence…as best as they can determine. I didn’t realize that Job came after Genesis 10! I almost didn’t make it to Genesis 11.

Right after the story of Noah…right around January 4…Job suddenly sprung up on the pages of January 5.

Understand that I have nothing against Job. After all, he is in the Book! It’s just that I have a hard time listening to his friends Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, and late contributor, Elihu. In a modern paraphrase they might appear as a group of Baptist pastors who are all trying out the coming Sunday’s sermon. They seem to have no word quota or time limit. They flapped their jaws more than our neighbor’s barking dog.

You would have thought they were running for office. I fell asleep with the Bible open in front of me. (Kind of like people on Sundays when I speak!) Anytime Eliphaz opened his mouth I started compiling a grocery list. Suddenly I realized I was two chapters later on in the story, but had not clue what it was that I had just read.

About two weeks later in my Bible journey light appeared at the end of the tunnel. It was about the time that God appeared on the scene and set things in perspective. The Almighty has a way of doing that. When he asks, but isn’t really seeking an answer, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand…Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place?” (Job 38:4,12) there is the first glimpse of silence in the gap.

It’s better to think through your words before responding to God.

The story of Job tells me that there is much verbosity in the world, a heap of rhetoric, but the voice of God sweeps it all away. It tells me that if we measure how we should believe by the amount of verbiage that is uttered our journey would, more often than not, take us away from the closeness of His wisdom.

Sometimes our lives become based more on the rambling thoughts of others and less on the solid foundation of Christ.

The story of Job also makes me think about the church. Does our ministry flow more out of our opinions or out of the story of hope, the scriptures of wisdom? How often do we say “That sounds like a good idea” as opposed to “What is God leading us to be about?”

I’m done with Job for now. I can remember Bildad’s name, but none of his pontifications. I leave the story behind me and am reminded of “The Five B’s of Preaching”– “Be brief, Bill, be brief!”

Categories: Christianity, Faith, Humor, Jesus, love, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
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Puttering Along With The Sheep

January 8, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                      January 8, 2013

One of the stories in the Bible that stands out as an incredible moment of connection between the Holy and a person is the Exodus 3 account of Moses encountering a burning bush. It is the distinctive call of God to the person he has prepared to lead his people.

But it took a bush to catch on fire for Moses to notice! It’s a bush that has an angel in it (Exodus 3:2)! Moses comes over to look for the bush isn’t burning up. He knows from his knowledge of nature that when a bush catches on fire it is quickly toasted!

It took a bush!

You see, Moses seems to have become content with the direction of his life. Growing up in Pharaoh’s palace was a distant memory. It’s as if he has lived two lives- one before he was s shepherd, and now the current one. He seems content to just putter along with the sheep. I can see him sitting on a hillside looking at the herd that belonged to his father-in-law (another Jethro! Go figure!), with a strand of straw sticking out of his mouth like Jethro from the old TV series called “The Beverly Hillbillies.”

The sheep needed some new grazing ground, so Moses puttered along with them to the next field over.

If God hadn’t lit that bush on fire Moses would have been a “career putterer.”

Zipporah: Moses, dear! What did you do today?

Moses: Well, let’s see, I puttered along behind the ewes over to the north 40; and then this afternoon I puttered back here with them.

Zipporah: That’s the same thing you did yesterday.

Moses: That’s the same thing I do everyday, dear!

 

For some of us God has to light a match to get us going. Some of us have to see something that doesn’t initially make any sense for God to get our attention. For others it is a journey that has us constantly in a state of spiritual discovery and awareness.

But let’s be honest! Many of us putter through life like a spiritual zombie putting one foot in front of the other and not having a clue as to what it happening.

“Puttering” is easier than pursuing!

I once heard that every episode of The Beverly Hillbillies was based on mis-communication or a lack of communication. Seems like walking in spiritual putter has the same plot.

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New Year Stuck in the Same Place

January 1, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W. January 1, 2013

Airline carriers are teasers. Last night I sat on the plane that would take us back to Colorado Springs…except we were going to have to make a stop in Des Moines to refuel due to strong head winds. We sat on the plane, got settled, prepared for the safety instructions from the flight attendant, but right when hope raised her head the pilot came on to give us the news. Flight canceled! The new flight adjustments and delays would have meant that the flight crew would have been over their mandated flight hours limit. No go! It’s always a weird feeling to be sitting on a plane that you know you won’t be flying on.

Thus, New Year’s Eve was spent in the United’s customer service line. (Want to be around happy people? Stay away from any customer service line!)

I’ll be okay…probably! I’m scheduled to arrive New Year’s Day afternoon…probably…if things go okay…maybe! What occurs to me is how we react to plans that get changed or detoured? What happens when you set the course ahead and you blow a tire on a speed bump? What happens when your plan for life has to duck because of an unexpected illness, or a loss of job, or a traumatic experience? For example, what happens in the midst of all of the Newtown, Connecticut families that suddenly and cold heartedly had their lives thrown into a whirpool of grief and confusion? What happens to the whole community?

Everyone faces disruptions and tragedies differently…just like the reactions I witnessed from different people in the customer service line last night. Some went with the flow and blow. Others went ballistic! Others were just in shock. Still others looked for a solution that wasn’t there…until the next day. In every difficult situation those reactions…and more…will be encountered. And sometimes we just have to stay stuck for a while. Progressing may not be possible, like nothing has just happened.

Spiritually it seems that God sometimes says “Not Yet.” We must believe in his timing and ways. Our reactions to a “no” from God, or a “wait a while” from him, range from outrage to puzzle solving. We’re very much like Abraham, not in terms of faith, but in terms of trying to populate a generation through Hagar instead of Sarah. Abraham was just one part of the equation, but he thought he was the sum of all the parts.

Meanwhile, I got a food voucher from United and was able to get my Starbucks coffee free this morning. What a deal!

Happy New Year!

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Christmas Silence

December 19, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                December 19, 2012

My guess is that the most popular Christmas carol is “Silent Night”. Traditionally, it is the song that we end our Christmas Eve Candlelight with. The congregation is standing, each person with their candle glowing. A stillness settles over the congregation as the music begins:

“Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright!”

Perhaps it is the offer at a change of pace that makes the carol so appealing. Christmas is amplified with noise it seems. I was in Walmart the other day and had several toys talking to me as I passed them in the aisles. Seriously! The sound of a monster truck accelerating made me exit a toy truck and cars aisle quickly. In the next aisle a stuffed puppy started panting at me.

Christmas noise. Christmas echoes echoing echoes. Christmas jazz rock.

And so “Silent Night” seems so soothing and comforting. I don’t want to dramatize it too much, but it seems that the birthplace of Jesus…off to the side…out of the banter and bustling…was more about the lack of noise. Perhaps there was some livestock standing around, but what I mean is that no one thought it important enough to make noise over.

In fact, most of the Christmas story characters had journeys that included silence. For shepherds it  was important to have quiet so their hearing could be attuned to any predators lurking close to their herd of sheep. The silence helped them hear any uneasiness in their flock.

The wise men from the East had spent a long period of time traveling in the quiet of wilderness and through valleys. In the Luke account it mentions that after Elizabeth found out she was pregnant she went into seclusion for five months (Luke 1:24). Obviously her husband, Zechariah, wasn’t making any noise!

Silence in the incarnational event punctuated the point that God was doing something incredible.

I’ll be visiting my parents back in Ohio the week after Christmas. My mom is at that point in her life where silence is the norm. She has trouble verbalizing what she is thinking and so there are long periods of uncomfortable quiet, because I’m expecting that the next words are going to come. It’s a hard adjustment seeing your mom, who always talked to you…and even more than you got to say…suddenly be silent. I, however, will always opt for a silent mom over a noisy supermarket, a quite moment sitting by her bed over screaming consumers at the mall.

They say that silence is golden. If that’s true why don’t more people just keep quiet?

“Silent night, holy night!”

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Pastor For Dinner

November 1, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                         November 1, 2012

 

“The mashed potatoes are ready”, came the voice from the kitchen.

“Is the table set?”

“I think we still need steak knives.”

“Dinner rolls are hot out of the oven.”

“Pitchers of iced tea and water are on the table.”

“Okay! Let’s gather everyone at the table and say grace.”

The six people of various ages converged on the dining room and took their assigned seats. It was their Sunday afternoon custom- dinner after church. It wasn’t called lunch because it took the place of two meals for the day and was served promptly at two o’clock…if church didn’t run long! “Long” was defined as anything exceeding one hour and ten minutes. The pastor was expected to do on-the-spot sermon revisions if the singing, announcements about everything that was happening that week, prayer requests and actual praying time, story time for the children, scripture reading, mission moment, and offering ran long. If Aunt Bessie needed to share about her sister Mildred’s gall bladder untrasound, and Deacon Herman was led by the Spirit to present the prayer request of people using excessive speed driving into the church parking lot, then sometimes the pastor’s message became more of a summary meditation thought.

Pot roasts were in the crock pots, and the Methodists needed to be beaten to the restaurants. Three points and a poem were often “Cliffs Noted” into one point and a quote. When it came down to expository preaching and pot roasts the perceptive pastor knew when to yield.

“Dear Lord! We thank you for your many blessings, and this meal that we are about to partake of. May it be used to give us strength! Amen!”

Five other amens echoed through the room, and then the food started it’s rotation around the table.

“Beautiful solo this morning by Margaret!”

“Yes, it was! She has such an incredible voice.”

“I didn’t realize that Henry Smith was having prostate problems.”

“Nor I! And how about Lorraine having to put her dog down. So sad!”

“Did you see little Angela during the story time? She kept making faces at the pastor. I couldn’t help but laugh.”

“So precious!”

“My insides were making faces at the pastor during the message. What was his point anyway?”

“Don’t ask me! He lost me even before he finished reading the scripture.”

“I timed him today. Twenty-six minutes and thirty-four seconds.”

“He needs to cut it down to twenty.”

“Fifteen, if he would just speak faster!”

“I hate it when he brings in world hunger and poverty during his sermon. It makes me feel guilty having dinner.”

“And, Lord knows, we deserve a nice dinner after having to endure another Sunday lecture.”

“And when he uses one of those more contemporary versions of the Bible it just turns me off.”

“The King James is such beautiful language. It’s almost like listening to a Shakespeare play.”

“I don’t like bringing current events into the pulpit. Stick with what Jesus said and we’ll be fine, but you start talking about what’s going on in the world and you just lose people.”

“Would anyone care for another roll?”

“Please!”

“I tell you…Sunday dinner is the most peaceful time of the week for me.”

“Me too!”

“Amen!”

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Form Dependent

October 31, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                     October 31, 2012

 

I’ve coached a few basketball players over the years who have terrible shooting form, so I spend a lot of time trying to correct it!

Balance. Feet shoulder width apart and knees bent

Eyes.

Elbows in.

Follow through.

I’ve had a few players, however, who have been decent shooters with flawed form, and when I have corrected them they have become poor shooters with great form. In essence, they become more concerned about their form than making the shot.

They start asking questions like “How did that look? Were my feet okay? How was my follow through?”

Questions that seem to miss the point that their shot created a crack in the backboard. They threw up a brick, but they had perfect form.

Sometimes I think we’re like that in the worshiping community of the church. We’re hypnotized by the form and miss the Presence.

Did we say enough prayers, sing enough hymns, raise our hands enough in praise, have a long enough sermon (or maybe a short enough sermon!)? Was the service orderly and controlled? Did the pastor may the right words at the distribution of the communion elements? Was he well-dressed and eloquent?

Most of us would probably say that our worship services aren’t about the form, but about worshiping in the presence of our Lord. That may very well be! The test is to have a worship gathering where everything doesn’t go according to the plan.

A crying baby is kept in the service and sometimes to bawl.

An elderly man falls over in the pew and has to be resuscitated.

Someone forgets to put bread on the communion plates.

The sound system goes dead.

A little girl keeps flashing the congregation during the children’s story.

The offering plate gets dumped in the midst of the main aisle.

A soloist loses her voice.

You can tell if a congregation worships the form or the presence when something unplanned trumps the plan; when a dose of grace is required to go on because a young man has just stood up as the pastor has ended his prayer, and openly admitted that he is an alcoholic.

Moments of uncomfortable truth when we have to put the form on the shelf and trust in the leading of the Spirit are revealing of a church’s heart.

Don’t misunderstand me. We worship “form” in various aspects of ministry. Try replacing Sunday morning donut time with healthy bran muffins. The possibility of a riot will go up exponentially if you try it more than one Sunday in a row. In the Baptist tradition changing a light bulb unexpectedly might cause a letter-writing campaign. In some churches using a different version of the Bible than the congregation culture is used to could cause facial spasms to begin.

So form takes different forms. Form is a route to a destination, but, as I’ve found out in flying back to southern Ohio to see my parents, there’s more than one way to reach it. Sometimes my route takes me from Colorado Springs to Houston to Charlotte to Huntington, West Virginia. Sometimes I go by car to Denver, and then fly to Columbus, where I pick up my rental car and head south. And sometimes…well, hopefully just one time…I get stuck where I am (Hurricane Sandy ripple effects) and never am able to leave my point of origin.

There’s been a few worship gatherings like that. No matter the form, no matter the liturgy, mo matter the planning…the plane just never seems to get off the ground…and we know it.

I still teach my players the fundamentals of shooting, the perfect form, but realize that prayers get answered not necessarily because the knees were properly bent.

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Bad Ideas and Leadings from God

October 9, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                   October 9, 2012

 

Sometimes people say things to me like, “You’re a pastor! You’ve got extra influence with God.” Or “You’re a pastor! Would you say a prayer for me, since God listens to you more than me.” I’m tempted at that point to respond with a “Show me where Scripture says that” , but usually the person saying it doesn’t have muchof a grasp on Scripture.

And I want to also tell them that I often confuse bad ideas as being the leadings of God. After all, pastors are suppose to have leadings from the Lord, and when we walk through a desert period in our spiritual lives we’re sometimes guilty of inventing leadings. It’s kind of like when a group has a prayer time and the group members are told to pray that they feel led. Sometimes there are the heart-felt prayers that are spoken, and sometimes there are prayers uttered because of the uncomfortableness of silence.

“Someone needs to pray something.”

There are leadings that are really reactions. People get ticked off at one another, and “are led” to do some things that I can’t believe God would lead them to do. Pastors have often been “led by the Lord” right after a heated church council meeting. I’d like someone “to be led” to do a study of what percentage of pastor resignations come within a week of church board meetings.

There are leadings that shine the spotlight on a person, and leadings that get leaked to the media. The word “revelation” gets substituted for leadings on occasion. For some reason it seems like it’s more spiritual for pastors to talk about “receiving revelations from God”, but everyone else has to use the term leadings.

Leadings can sometimes be responses from our tendency to not just stand there but to do something. Peter felt that urge after the Transfiguration of Jesus on top of a mountain. Spontaneous as he tended to be he came up with the “leading” of building three shelters to recognize the appearance of Moses and Elijah with Jesus. One translation uses the word “tents.” I remember reading that when I was growing up and I couldn’t get a Boy Scout camp-out image out of my mind. I started envisioning Jesus sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows with his guests and disciples. I discovered that it was my imagination, not a revelation.

Leadings can only be so far, also. What I mean is that a leading can be so far out there that people lose sight of it. The shepherd doesn’t lose sight of the sheep because some of the sheep tend to lose focus. And yet the shepherd knows when it’s time to move…to be led to a new place of grazing.

Bad ideas sometimes emerge out of a desire to be relevant. Relevance is something that the people of God need to keep in mind, but sometimes it is relevance that is driving the cart. It shows when it seems that a lot of people are being led by the Lord to suddenly dress a certain way, or start a certain ministry. My cynical side asks why God didn’t lead someone to open a coffee house in their church back in the 70’s? Why does it seem that there are so many leadings of that ministry in the past five years with the Starbucks explosion?

Of course, you can take that reasoning and “why asking” only so far. To take it to an extreme is a bad idea. There is always a danger of questioning a new idea simply because we question anything that is new.

I pray consistently for the leading of the Spirit, but realize that the leading is in the Spirit’s time not mine. Sometimes the Lord leads with a stop sign, and sometimes he leads us in retreat.

My hope, as well as my fear, is that on Sunday morning when I stand before the gathered saints and faith journeyers that he will have led me to a word…a word from the Lord to share with the church. It is a moment of trepidation because of the fear of sharing, not a leading, but a bad idea…and a fear because of there always being the possibility that the Lord didn’t lead me to a word that week. Perhaps some Sundays the sermon should simply be silent!

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