Words from WW Blog

In the first decade of my previous pastorate, there was a big framed picture of Jesus in the main hallway of the church. It was a three dimensional picture of our Savior.
It had a light behind it, that when turned on, gave the Son of God an eerie look about Him. It was like He was always looking at you no matter where you were in the hallway. He had that wavy three-dimensional look to Him.
“3-D Jesus” was a part of the scenery. Those of us who frequented the building each Sunday were used to Him, even to the point that we no longer noticed Him.
The guest sign-in book was on a podium directly in front of Him . . . facing Him. I wondered if anyone was ever scared away by looking at Jesus.
We had some “Jesus humor” among a number of us in the church about 3-D Jesus. We joked about “turning Jesus on” when we arrived at the building on Sunday morning, and then making sure that we “turned Jesus off” when we left. You can probably follow our train of sarcasm in those statements.
3-D Jesus had been mounted on the wall in our church for so long that even when the light switch was turned off you could still see the tracings of His face. It was our version of the Shroud of Turin, except we called it “The 3-D Jesus of Mason.”
No museums requested special engagements.
I don’t know who had given 3-D Jesus to the church, but I believe He was a memorial gift. Sometimes churches get rid of Jesus before giving up something given in memory of someone. Thus, 3-D Jesus stayed . . . and stayed . . . and stayed. It was only in re-painting the main hallway that He didn’t show up again after the paint dried.
I’m not sure, but I think there were a few people who didn’t show up again after that as well.
Sometime Jesus becomes part of the scenery until He’s not there anymore. Then He’s noticed. Of course, that never really happens—He is always there. It’s when our world gets rocked or the scenery of our life gets changed that we suddenly realize that we’ve been missing Him, even though He’s always been there.
Perhaps that’s when the light really goes on.
Pastor Bill

WORDS FROM W.W. May 26, 2010

“Atheist” (n.)- Doubter; agnostic; nonbeliever.
I’ve been reading Craig Groeschel’s book The Christian Atheist. The title leaned me in the direction of the bookshelf that displayed it. The “half-price for three days only” got me to pick it up. The gift card convinced me to buy it. The book sleeve’s sub-heading is “Believing in God but living as if He doesn’t exist.”
Hmmm!
Unfortunately I have to get through the first 11 chapters before coming to the final chapter entitled “When You Believe In God, But Not in His Church.” (I’m too compliant to jump to the last chapter first. Somewhere in my life- probably first grade- it was hammered into me that “good little boys” didn’t do that!)
Atheist is one of those names that we’ve black-listed, but an atheist is a doubter. That means that at one time Thomas qualified. Even at the end of Matthew, one verse that continues to confound me, talks about the disciples worshipping Jesus, “but some doubted.” Everyone of us doubts in some way. That doesn’t mean that that on Sunday I’m going to say something like “You may have come here this morning with a lot of atheism. You’re atheistic about the possibility of healing happening in your life. You’re an atheist that hope could come into your life. But,let me assure you, that you don’t have to leave here today still an atheist. Jesus is big enough to handle your atheist-infected mind.”
The word has history that usually conjures up pictures of Madalyn Murray O’Hair ranting and raving about prayer in the public schools. O’Hair was named by Life magazine as “the most hated woman in America” in 1964. If you remember her at all you may remember that she didn’t really convey having “a warm personality.”
So “atheism” has history in Christian circles.
But it’s also very close to home in an uncomfortable way! We do doubt! We do live in ways that say we’re believers, but not committed to it. When we talk about commitment it too often is defined by how many church activities and study groups we’re a part of. The confusing thing is that there are believers who aren’t committed to anyway. Being committed to a group, or a study, or being in a worship service each week would be a welcome sign that they are still alive, let alone following Jesus.
My “atheism” shows in my too frequent doubting that people can change. I become cynical that God can mold and shape clay into something extraordinary. History is more often than not a good indication of what will happen in the future, but the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob also has a history of writing the impossible made possible.
Could it be that the “atheism” of the church keeps pulling us back to what we’re used to and what we’ve always experienced? Could it be that a more intimate relationship with God is just outside of our reach because we’ve doubted that he can extend himself just a little more in our direction?
That takes me to the end of this column, but also the beginning of chapter seven in Groeschel’s book. It’s entitled “When You Believe in God, But Don’t Think You Can Change.”
I’m hesitant to read it.

WORDS FROM WW May 23, 2010

Today is one of those days! Depressingly celebrative! Joyfully sad!
Lizi, our youngest child, receives her college diploma. It’s the culmination of four years of hard work and applying herself. And now today she walks!
Why downcast, O my soul?
Call it “the dad syndrome” or “fatherhood flu”, but it comes as a dad reflects and remembers…
…the day of birth (Carol and I watched several episodes of M.A.S.H. and played two games of Scrabble as we waited in the birthing room. Scrabble strategy you never hear about: Play against a pregnant woman in labor. Her words will get shorter as the game goes on and she will care less and less about winning.)
…eating birthday cake for the first time- kept the hose close at hand.
…first day of school etched in our photo album. (The missing front tooth will always give it a special flavor.)
…swimming like a fish.
…Buddy Basketball dominance.
…kicking the “For Sale” sign down in front of our house in Mason, Michigan. (The next day it was not only kicked down again, but also dispatched underneath a pine tree hoping not to be discovered.)
…making intelligent decisions in situations that many of her friends didn’t.
…getting baptized, and Dad not being able to finish it because of all the emotion.
…Prom.
…seeing her developed sense of justice and compassion appear in a number of situations.
…taking her to college that first year, and experiencing synchronized crying with Carol within a mile of leaving the parking lot of Lizi’s dorm.
And so today as she walks to the front of the platform and receives her diploma, I’ll be proud and also a little sad. I long for those days when she was still on the slide and swings, but know that part of parenthood is the growing of the child to come to the point where, in some ways, she doesn’t need us to catch her any more. It’s a fulfilling moment that we receive with hesitation and dread.
Oh, to keep them as children! I’d better stop. The tears are heading towards my eyes!

WORDS FROM W.W. May 14, 2010

I grew up watching The Andy Griffith Show. I got to know all the characters. Aunt Bee always got on my nerves. Otis continues to be my favorite drunk of all time on any TV show. I looked far and wide until I finally found a barber like Floyd, except his name is Phil. And Barney…well…what can you say about a grown man who can still sing soprano?
And then there was Goober! Goober was weekly evidence that you don’t have to be smart to get noticed. In fact, if there was an episode without Goober I felt a little cheated. I wish I could have met Goober’s parents to help me understand how he became who he was. Goober was always saying something that showed his lack of comprehension, and he would do things that had you rolling on the floor laughing while secretly hoping you yourself never did anything like that…and people saw you do it.
In years since we’d use the derogatory comment “What a Goober!” to categorize events that were completely void of intelligent decisions.
And yet all of us at one time or another put a hat on that communicates that we are Goobers.
Goobers in a GQ world, that’s who we are much of the time.
The GQ world is that place where people look perfect and without blemish. It’s a world that distances itself from Jesus, because when you believe you have it all together there’s no need for someone to be your Savior. Flaws are admissions of guilt. Imperfections taint the view.
Which makes Goobers stand out even more with their faults and failures!
I was a real Goober this past week. No…really! I got tickets to a Colorado Rockies baseball game and three of us headed to Denver on a night that more resembled hockey weather than baseball. We were just a few minutes away from the stadium when the radio informed us that the game had been cancelled. I had put the five layers of clothing on for nothing!
Then one of my friends (He still is, in case you’re wondering!) told me that our tickets wouldn’t have been good anyway.
“Huh?”
“These tickets are for the afternoon game tomorrow.”
“Huh?”
I had ordered tickets for the wrong day, and, of course, we couldn’t go the next day.
My friend said to me, “Well, think of the positive. At least we didn’t pay and park.”
I guess that’s a victory. I envisioned us walking up to the gate, having the ticket scanner scan our tickets and then saying “These tickets are for tomorrow’s game.”
“Huh?”
“These tickets aren’t good for tonight.” And then under his breath “What a Goober!”
Goobers need grace…lot’s of it! People who are permanent residents of the GQ world need grace also, but won’t often admit to it.
Come to think of it, Barney was one of those who always was trying to live in the GQ world, that is, the place of perfection and power…but he was more of a Goober than Goober himself. Most of the episodes of Andy Griffith were about the predicaments Barney would get himself into as the result of trying to be something he wasn’t.
At least Goober knew who he was…and wasn’t.
Back to my recent Goober moment. I am extremely thankful that the two guys I went to the game with, or almost went to the game with, gave me grace (They put in some grief also, but no objects were thrown at me). It will stand out as a moment that we will laugh about for years to come. It’s good to have people like that to walk through life with. If you can’t think of anyone who can be that for you there’s some searching you need to do.

WORDS FROM W.W.
May 5, 2010

A few weeks ago I spent the good part of a day in the library of a seminary. It’s been a few years since I’ve been able to do that. Seminary libraries have changed in many ways. We didn’t have the anti-theft gates in our seminary library—the ones that buzz and flash when someone tries to make off with one of the books without checking it out. If we would have had those when I was a student maybe the latest copy of The Wittenburg Door magazine wouldn’t have gotten ripped off each month. (For the younger folk, Wittenburg Door was the best periodical of all time! It’s what helped us as seminary students keep our humor in the midst of Barth, Moltmann, and Kung.)
While I was browsing through the seminary library I came upon a book that I had read in recent years. It had allowed me to gain a current (at that time) analysis of the state of the church, and provided some hints as to how to move the people of God forward.
Then I noticed on the next shelf below two other books that have been a part of my completed reading list. Stepping over one book case there were a couple of other motivational guides, and turning around I had staring me in the face another essential book that I had read because it was vital to ministry in the local church.
In fact, I discovered that there were close to 50 books along that row of book shelves that were a part of my library, and that I have used to help shape the form of my pastoring.
But then I went over a row, curious as to what books I would find there that I could identify as being on my “completed” list. There was one that dealt with social justice that I had gotten halfway through . . . but no others.
Next row . . . nil!
Next . . . same thing!
In my strolling I came across only a handful of books that I had read, or even attempted to read, that weren’t in that first row that I was so proud about.
Slow as I am, I still had an “A-ha” moment. The vast majority of my ministry thinking, and dare I saw walk with the Lord, has been determined by a very limited view. I’ve taken a row of books and made it the whole library!
It’s similar to when I went back to a town in West Virginia that I spent part of my childhood. I swear that someone had reduced the width of the streets in the 40 years I had been gone. In my memory that were a lot wider when I was 8! That was back in the days when I thought Frisch’s Big Boy was the only restaurant that existed . . . anywhere!
Sometimes it’s amazing, and humbling, to discover the vastness of our limited perspective. When we realize there’s another view, or another part of the journey that we hadn’t even realized existed, the reaction can go one of two ways—free us to discover how God speaks and is revealed in different ways, or close up our mind to what is familiar.
For instance, recently a couple of friends of mine have discovered “centering prayer.” It’s not that it’s like the iPad and has just been introduced to the public, but rather it’s been there and they just hadn’t discovered it yet. It’s as if it was simply in the next row. They just needed to realize and be introduced to “the books on the other side of the shelf.”
The library experience also made me realize how much, even at this late stage of life, I still have room to grow. I see things most of the time with the eyes of an American Baptist pastor of a small congregation. What about my Presbyterian pastor friend down the street? Could it be that my experience allows him to see things a little different—sometimes better, sometimes not as clear—than I do? Could it be that the “richness” of the kingdom of God for us will be more deeply experienced when we allow our eyes to roam to the next bookshelves over?
Dangerous thoughts! If I give myself permission to do that I may find out that I haven’t been as right as I’ve always thought I was. It may affect how impressive I have been in my own eyes!
And why would I want to do that?
Pastor Bill

WORDS FROM W.W. April 29, 2010

I’m into the progressive phase of my life . . . progressive lens in the eyeglasses. With the tilt of my head, I can do two things at once—I see clear enough to read what I was taking my glasses off to read before (because of my near-sightedness). I also look like an old man while I’m doing it. Some would say that the second thing is true regardless of my glasses. (You know you’re getting old when you decide on which restaurant to go to on the basis of whether or not they have a “senior menu.”)
Despite the improvement in eyesight I’m still flawed sometimes in being able to tell what is what. Eyeglasses don’t correct color blindness. When different shades of certain colors are close together I can mistake a green sign for a red placard. The fall colors aren’t that big a deal for me!
So I see what I see, helped or hindered by the lens I look through, sometimes confidently moving forward only to be fooled by what I thought was there but isn’t. To be sure, wearing my own glasses is not nearly as likely to cause me to fall off the side of a cliff as wearing someone else’s lens, but it does sometimes fool me into thinking my eyesight is 20-20.
Let me try this idea on for size! A dangerous principle to live by is reading God through our lens. Our eyesight, with or without corrected eyeware, is flawed and distorted. I sometimes see what I desire to see, and block out the contradictions.
“Why let the truth interfere with my vision?”
It goes against our thirst for control. It’s like that saying: “Hire a teenager…while they still know everything!” Most of us still think we know everything, we’re just more refined in how we share that fact with others. We give it different sounding names like “self-determined”, “street smart”, “wise beyond his years”, “self-confident”, “taking the bull by the horns”…resume’ sounding language like that.
Part of the spiritual unrest and whining today is related to “the lens” we confine our view to. The value of the people of God is in understanding that each person sees some of the picture, but not the whole scene. Most of the struggles that are a part of the church, and dare I say each person’s spiritual journey, involve too much confidence in my own sight and not enough confidence in what others are seeing. Suddenly the path is splotched with the blood of those who didn’t want to heed the warnings of a stone on the trail, or a lower tree branch that causes a “face plant.” I may not have seen the pitfalls through my lens, or didn’t want to see them.
Reading God through our own lens is a little like a 6 year old looking at the dinner buffet table that he can choose from. The vegetables are safe from being chosen, while French fries, tater tots, corn dogs, fried chicken legs, and everyone of the desserts do not escape his vision. He sees what he wants to see. (It’s one reason my wife won’t take me to buffets any more.)
Just to clarify! This does not mean that I’m not correct in my decisions. I’m just not correct all the time like I think I am.

WORDS FROM W.W. April 21, 2010

One of my flaws is that I enjoy watching the TV drama series “24”. If you’re not familiar with “24”, as Jack Bauer would say, “I’ll give you five seconds to find it!” Just kidding…maybe!
“24” is a series of events that happen in one 24 hour period. Each season has evolved out of a terrorist threat, or crazed revolutionary leader seeking to destroy a good sized chunk of the United States. Every ten minutes or so a digital clock comes on the screen to remind the viewer what time of this fictitious day it is.
It’s one of those action-packed shows that have more twists and turns than the Olympic snowboarding competition.
But this season has been a little too much for me! I still watch it, mind you, but it’s just a little…fruity! (I’m working on expanding my vocabulary.)
For example one of the President’s advisors suffers a heart attack, is held in an office for a while without any medical treatment, discovered, rushed by ambulance to the hospital, hooked up to monitors and fluids in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, and now about 8 hours later (or 8 episodes) is back at the President’s side looking like he went to Palm Springs for the weekend. It’s like he just took two aspirin and changed suits.
Let me put it this way. If the story of creation was the basis for a season of “24”, It would have God creating everything, a rotten apple emerging, Adam and Eve having to take a bite of it at gunpoint, hiding in their nakedness from Noah’s ark that appears on the horizon, that is carrying the baby Jesus, that religious fanatics are trying to kidnap and fulfill a prophecy that would bring the end of the age of man to pass. In other words, God’s story from the beginning to the end of time could be covered in one season. I’m not sure where Season 2 would go from there.
A wee bit unrealistic.
I realize it’s TV, but…
…but, I’ve noticed there is a bit of a “24” mentality in many people’s lives. Problems need to be solved immediately, if not sooner. And Christians often make God the main character in their own “24” life series. “God, take care of it right now! I know the problem is the result of a long period of neglect, failures, and self-centered actions, but if you could bring some closure to this unfortunate situation it would confirm in my mind that you are the one and only all-powerful God. Five seconds!”
I’ve been noticing in scripture that “in God’s timing” often encompasses a long period of time. We talk about the Israelites wandering for forty years in the desert, but there are many other examples of God working…slowly! Abraham received the promise of a son when he was 86 and welcomed a new bouncing baby boy at 99. Either Sarah had a very, very long pregnancy or the timing was what God had in mind to punctuate the promise with his signature.
A couple of weeks ago I was reading about doubting Thomas. He had to see and experience the risen Christ for him to believe. The story, as told in the gospel of John, could have easily (In other words, it would have fit better in the “24” time frame!) had Thomas voicing his doubts, turning around and encountering Jesus right then and there. After he voices his unbelief, however, the next words say “A week later…” (John 20:26a) God allowed Thomas to wrestle with his questions and grief for a week, instead of bringing the Promised into his company right away.
How often do we reach for the instant blessing mix because we’re spiritually impatient people? Our lack of patience uncovers our lack of maturity.
“But…but God knows I need an answer right now!”
And sometimes God answers “Not yet!”
Most of the time that’s not the answer we’re looking for!

WORDS FROM W.W. April 13, 2010

The electrician is here at the church today. We’re upgrading our lighting. Well…upgrade might not be the most accurate term. It’s more like getting lighting in our library that will allow someone to actually be able to see the words of the book that they’re trying to read. It’s along the lines of saying my grandparents got upgraded when they put in indoor plumbing…which, by the way, I remember happening! I don’t know…I think going from generic to Kellogg’s Rice Krispies is more of an upgrade than that.
We’re replacing dimmer and diminishing lights that use more power with brighter lights that use less power. Would someone explain that one to me?
Plus, we’re replacing lights that are there, but don’t work anymore, with lights that will work. What a concept!
The entrance that most of our congregation uses is the darkest entry point into our building of any. It’s like visiting Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, except darker.
The entrance that most of our congregation uses is the darkest entry point into our building of any. It’s like visiting Mammoth Caves in Kentucky, except darker.
This didn’t happen all at once. It gradually got that way. One of the lights started flickering, then it was okay, then it was flickering, then it was out, back on, out again…you get the jest. After a while people get used to it. Kind of like your dog’s bad breath. You love him to death so you live with “breath that could kill a cow.” It just becomes part of the whole package.
But in our building several of the light fixtures have reached that “hospice point”. New lighting is about to shine new light on the matter.
Being the astute reader that you (obviously) are, you’ve probably already started to figure out the direction that this article is heading. Sometimes the light starts to dim in the church and no one notices until it’s too dark. And yet, scripturally “light” is one of the defining nouns of the Body of Christ. Jesus said “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.” (Matthew 5:14-15a) But what about light that isn’t intentionally hidden, but just gradually dims?
Perhaps the flickering or dimming of our passion for God is what we need to be conscience of. (I’m reading through the bible this year. About the time I reach Job there is some flickering that happens in my light.)
In terms of being the people of the God, the tendency is for those outside of the church (And I don’t mean the building!) to be able to sense, if not see, light-dimming taking place more often than people of the church sense it. It goes back to the principle of your dog’s bad breath. You’re used to it, but your new neighbor, who is sitting on your couch, might have a problem with it. On the other hand, if there is someone you want to make sure never “darkens” the door of your place again, you might intentionally put your dog in his face.
In our church a few light adjustments and changes are going to make a world of difference. One of the new lights is simply being re-positioned. The new outlook seems to be changing how most of the area around it looks. Perhaps if we get enough new light the whole place will be transformed. The church will be exposed for who we are…supposed to be, not who we’ve been when things come to light.
One last light bulb that just came on! Too much light is blinding. Like in the old days when the school photographer would come to take class pictures and everyone would walk around blinded for a few minutes afterwards. It’s no wonder we looked so “uncertain” in the photos! Likewise, the church has too often been a “flash in the pan.” Bright lights for a moment, and then hit the dimmer switch!
Abundant light is not blinding light. Abundant light is hope seen, and the possibilities illuminated. Abundant light draws not cause annoyed squinting.
Next week a guy comes to look at the garbage disposal. I’m curious what kind of insights God will bring into my fat head then.

WORDS FROM W.W. April 6, 2010

It’s the Tuesday after Resurrection Sunday. Jesus has arisen just as he has said he would each year about this time. A few years ago Tony Campolo did a talk about “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!”
For pastors we have to admit that there’s a sequel “It’s Sunday, but Tuesday’s coming!” It’s the pastoral equivalent to post-partum blues, except we call it “post-resurrection blues.” Jesus is out of the tomb…and we know half of the crowd will be back in church next Sunday! One of my Lutheran pastor friends…in jest, mind you…said “Jesus stuck his head out and then went back in. That means six more weeks of Lent.”
It’s an odd situation. We’ve walked the road to the cross, and then proclaimed the hope and celebration of the open tomb, and now we’re struggling to keep the energy of the moment of victory. Kind of like when a team (I flinch when I say Duke!) wins a championship, and the day after reaching the pinnacle people start talking about the challenges of next year’s team. No time to enjoy the moment. Got to move on to April 11th!
Don’t throw rocks at me! I feel bad enough. I wish every Sunday would be filled with chocolate and Peeps! My hope is that the congregation will give me a little “Amen nudge” this coming Sunday, a little motivation for a tired preacher.
I’m sure it’s just a coincidence- an ironic twisting of time sparked by the Spirit- that this week’s message is focused on Thomas- not my nephew, but the disciple, the doubter, the one who was having a hard time moving away from the image of the cross and a stone that was still in place.
There is some kind of parallel there. Thomas doubted because he hadn’t seen the risen Lord yet. Many Christians today doubt because they haven’t seen him either. Thomas doubted because he hadn’t moved from the past to the present. Many Christians struggle because the present is harder to live in than the past.
Thomas was cynically doubtful about real hands with nail marks. A lot of present-day believers are cynical about the place of faith, and the relevance of the church.
The days after Resurrection Sunday are about new birth, new beginnings, starting over when we thought it was all over. It’s the heading towards the next big event in the church calendar- not Mother’s Day, but rather Pentecost.
I’ll keep my eyes on that. I’ll still have to suck it up a little bit this week. It’s similar to our youngest daughter’s coming itinerary- the celebration and exhilaration of graduating from college…followed closely by the reality of now needing to find a job!
That’s a little different than post-resurrection blues. It’s called “post-graduation bank statement in the red!”

WORDS FROM W.W. March 28, 2010

Quite often I feel privileged (okay, I’ll use the spiritual terminology here–I feel blessed!) to be a pastor. Pastors are different people. We are driven, but try to look peaceful. We are multi-tasked, but rarely multi-taskers. We’re goal-oriented, but “people persons.” We’re expected to be fluent in our understanding of Scripture, but are always behind in our reading. We’re administrators, who are expected to be out and about. Or perhaps we’re out-and-about people, who are expected to be administrators.
Those last parts of our job description are why we are often confused. When we’re working on the Sunday message we feel guilty that we’re not with a person in need of some counseling, but when we’re sitting having a cup of coffee with someone in need . . . and we use that excuse for not having a sermon ready the next Sunday . . . the sanctuary will be punctuated with raised eyebrows.
Here’s what a lot of pastors feel . . . deep, deep down. People look to how we’re living and relating to God to give some credence to their weekly commitment to us as their pastors. We’re like spiritual college football coaches who have the support of the boosters’ club until a few losing seasons get strung together. The difference with pastors is that the “wins” are a combination of how people are feeling spiritually, and whether or not the people are perceiving the relationship between their pastor and the Lord as being close to another Mount Sinai experience.
A little cynical, I know! But pastors are half-cynical, half-trusting. We’re faith-filled followers who too often resemble the disciples in Matthew 28:17. “When they saw him (Jesus), they worshipped him, but some doubted.” That’s us! Robert Schuller on Sunday, and Ricky Schroder on Monday.
People look to their pastors to model Christian maturity, while still expecting to see growth in their spiritual walk with God. But there’s a tricky catch.
In our church we have someone who has just left the military after 13 years to follow God’s call into the ministry. He’s a thirty-something first-semester seminarian. And we also have a mid-thirties couple who left financially secure positions to join different branches of the armed forces. We applaud the growth and new directions that God calls people into. God called another couple to leave us a few years ago to become full-time missionaries in British Columbia. We’re taken back by their faithfulness and obedience. It’s a radical shift that echoes of their commitment to the Lord.
The catch for pastors is that we’re expected to be changed, to be grown, in our walk, but the climate of the church is expected to not change. That is, people want the Lord to touch a pastor’s heart to the point that it doesn’t mess up things at church. It’s like getting a new flat screen TV at home. We’re delighted with the upgrade, but the furniture is going to stay in the same place.
Changed sameness. It’s an uncomfortable quandary. If you don’t think your church has that “changed sameness” attitude think of your reaction if one or more of the following happened:
• The seating in the sanctuary got rearranged to help the pastor communicate the theme for a worship service.
• Donuts got replaced with fruit on Sunday morning.
• There was not a Sunday bulletin the week of Earth Day.
• One Sunday the communion bread is hush puppies.
• Someone spills coffee on the sanctuary carpet.
• God blesses a congregation with a drummer.
• A visitor sits in your spot.
• Too many strangers show up on a Sunday.
Perhaps in your mind none of those would be any big deal. I have to admit the appearance of grapes and the disappearance of glazed donuts would be hard for me to swallow. We’re all dieting . . . tomorrow . . . or after the pastries are all eaten . . . or the ice cream carton has been finished off . . . or . . . .
Changed sameness. Our prayer may sometimes be about changing us on the inside, because change around me is hard to handle.
With that being said I’d better close. I try to keep the word count of my columns pretty much the same, and this one is getting totally out of control.