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Traditional Kinda’ Worship

April 13, 2025

Since last August I’ve been serving as interim youth minister at First Baptist Church of Colorado Springs. Each Sunday I teach the youth Sunday school class and then attend the morning worship service.

I like it!

The worship service is a blend of traditional and other “stuff.” The “stuff” includes some creative worship elements that support the theme of the day. For example, today (Palm Sunday), everyone will receive a small palm cross (that was handmade two Sundays ago by the congregation after the post-worship luncheon) and come froward to lay it at the foot of the cross.

I like the involvement of the congregation in various parts of worship. The front of the Sunday bulletin is often a picture that was taken of a previous church event or part of a worship service…a baptism, the sharing of communion, a blessing, two people hugging one another, children laughing…it is very personal and displaying of “congregational life and love.”

There are traditional elements, including the Lighting of the Christ Candle by a congregational member, the singing of one or two hymns (also one or two praise songs), an invocation, and a Call to Worship. Pastor Dan has a great message that speaks to where we are but also brings in the setting of the scripture and how it has been lived out in the history of the church and/or the saints.

Different servers of different generations are the servers of communion each month, from 10-years-old to 90. I’ve noticed that a parent and their teen serve side-by-side. It’s a congregation that honors those who have passed on, as well as those who have moved on. Someone who is moving from Colorado Springs to somewhere else is given “bread for the journey” at the end of a worship service. Someone who has been baptized is given a framed ceritificate with the autographed names of everyone who was in attendance at that Sunday’s worship service.

In other words, there are extra doses of congregational care and connectedness that happen. It’s a needed ingredient for a long-standing (152 years) center city church that has seen a city grow around it.

Every church has its purpose and mission. It has become more challenging for this 70-year-old youth minister to find a place that feeds my inner hunger without feeling stuffy or superficial. There are other places of worship that could double as a concert venue. That’s not my thing, although it fits the needs of many others. On the other hand, there are places where eighty-six verses of “Just I Am” are sung at the close of a worship service with mounting pressure for someone to come to the altar. Not my thing either.

The thing that is often forgotten about worship is that it’s worship OF God, not worship ABOUT ourselves. Worship that is OF God will often have the interesting effect of touching the depths of our soul, while at other times ushering us into His holy presence that leaves us a bit shaken up. Just read the expereinces of the Israelites and the early churches, as well as the not-yet words of Revelation. Worship isn’t traditional, blended, contemporary, or preachy. Worship is just that…worship of the Holy Almighty One who graces and loves us.

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Volun-told

March 22, 2025


“He directed two of his disciples, “Go into the city. A man carrying a water jug will meet you. Follow him. Ask the owner of whichever house he enters, ‘The Teacher wants to know, Where is my guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?’ He will show you a spacious second-story room, swept and ready. Prepare for us there.” (Mark 14:13-15)

There’s a new term that I guess I missed. “Volun-told.”

It’s when no hands go up in the air, and something needs to be done. It’s Jesus saying to a couple of his disciples, “Go…” There’s a task at hand even when there isn’t a raised hand.

At school, whenever I need someone to take the class attendance slip to the office, there are so many students willing to volunteer, it’s like a rush for Taylor Swift concert tickets. Getting out of class for three minutes and strolling down the school corridor is savored by every student halfway interested in the body paragraphs of an essay construction. Heck! I’m interested, but I remind myself that I’m the teacher.

Jesus often “voluntold” his disciples to be about a task. Perhaps it’s because the gospels were written in a different language, but Jesus never said please when telling one of his disciples to do something. The only time he said please was in reference to “pleasing His Father.”

A disciple follows the one who is the teacher and, in doing that, follows the commands of the One directing. There is a trust factor involved in it. The disciple trusts in the guidance of the Leader.

Just my opinion, but I believe churches are populated with people who are waiting to be voluntold what to do. New people in the community of faith are especially in need of being voluntold. They are like the disciples of Jesus, unfamiliar with systems and procedures, needs and wants. Like a sports fan at a new arena searching for the section that his seat is in, they’re willing but uncertain.

On the other hand, there are a few manipulative people in faith communities who are prone to lay guilt trips on those who are a bit uncertain and vulnerable. If a request includes words like, “Jesus would want you to do this…” or “Anyone who calls themselves a Christian wouldn’t hesitate to say yes,” it’s manipulation in full throttle.

Jesus never commanded the disciples to do something that He thought was beyond them, even casting out demons. He raised the bar regarding their capabilities. He maximized their potential. So many followers of Jesus are uncertain of their potential. To be voluntold needs that element of the leader’s faith. In her charge there is the tone that says, “I believe in you!”

To be voluntold is to insinuate that people are on the same team and have the same goals and objectives. Sometimes, the church doesn’t need a committee to decide on how the squeak in the entry door is to be cured. Just tell Jim to do it, and it will get done yesterday!

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The Outward Appearance

February 21, 2025

“You don’t make your words true by embellishing them with religious lace. In making your speech sound more religious, it becomes less true. Just say ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ When you manipulate words to get your own way, you go wrong.” (Matthew 5:36-37)

Coaching basketball at the high school level this year has been challenging at times. I enjoy the time spent improving the skills and game understanding of the freshman and sophomore girls. They’ve made significant strides during the course of the last three and a half months.

One observation that has caused me to shake my head is the team tee shirts that different teams wear that say things like “Never Quit,” “No One Works Harder,” and “Hustle Defines Us.” When the game begins or the practice proceeds, it has often been my experience that the words on the shirt are in contradiction to the play or effort on the court. When little Johnny doesn’t get his shots or the amount of playing time he wants, a more accurate shirt would say, “Selfishness Defines Me” or “It’s Have Attitude Problems.”

Sometimes, the outward appearance is in sharp contrast to the reality of the situation.

Sadly, I find this is also true for a large number of churches. Sometimes, the church marquee that says “All Are Welcome” could be an antonym for what the truth is inside the doors. Grace and peace are two hopes that are often shoved to the side. Social media is the new connection piece for congregations to get their name and look out there. It’s one of the two main ways that people find a church home, the other being as a result of someone who is a part of the church and invites them to join them on a Sunday morning or Saturday night.

The outward appearance is always shiny, populated by smiling faces young and old, and committed to quality products to promote that “All are welcome here” mindset. Once in a while a church lays the truth out there right from the beginning. Like a church I know of back in Ohio that has a long list on their marquee of what defines them: King James Bible, Gospel Preaching, Soul-winning, Fundamentalist, Independent. They tell the truth right up front, more like a barbed wire fence to keep out the riff-raff.

Biblically-speaking, that’s the refreshing point of 1 Corinthians. The Apostle Paul draws a picture for us of the church at Corinth. It would make for a good reality TV series. They’re not very welcoming and considerate. They’re taking each other to court, and their sexual conduct could be defined as “steamy” at best. They’ve been prone to following personalities and displaying a kind of spiritual superiority. It’s a great depiction of what the reality of church life is sometimes.

Not that churches today should put it right out there on their sign: “We sin a lot here and do things that make Jesus cry.” Maybe a nicer way of putting the truth out there is to say something like, “Under Construction and Completely Forgiven.”

Meanwhile, I leave the gym after a game thinking the team shirts are about as accurate as the players’ three-point shooting. I think the shirt should say, “Can’t Throw It in the Ocean!” or “My parents say that defense is optional, but the offense is necessary.” Maybe one boy will have a unique, personalized shirt that says, “The Coach Doesn’t Like Me! That’s why I’m at the end of this bench!”

Those things probably won’t happen because, as we know, “The truth hurts!”

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TikTok, MLK, and Jesus

January 20, 2025


“…that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth…” (Philippians 2:10)

There was the sound of gnashing teeth and loud moaning in my youth Sunday School class yesterday. It wasn’t because of the extremely frigid temperature outside or the news of the severe famine in Somalia. In fact, most of my students don’t know where Somalia is. Instead of the cold of the Colorado morning and the malnutrition of African children, the students were weeping over the end of TikTok, or rather the end of their access to TikTok. They had been greeted with a warning that rivaled the Surgeon General’s words now printed on every pack of cigarettes, except worse. Smokers still have a choice. Tik Tok’ers don’t.

I pondered the “tearing of their cloaks” through the rest of Sunday. On Martin Luther King Day this morning, millions of African Americans remember what injustice was in life-altering ways before the Civil Rights Act. They faced much more than being unable to access videos on their cell phones. They were excluded, separated, diminished, abused, ridiculed, and characterized, at best, as second-class citizens. They didn’t have a voice, and their cries fell on deaf. After the Civil Rights Act, they still had to face oppression, exclusion, and persecution. Government legislation rarely is able to erase the hatred that is harbored in the hearts of people.

Interestingly enough, on this date in 1918, during the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, all the places of worship were closed, and all religious instruction was outlawed. In essence, Jesus was told to take a hike from the country. Hundreds of Russian Orthodox bishops and priests were executed. Protestant Christians were imprisoned or sent to mental hospitals. Churches became the property of the government. It was a campaign to eliminate religion from Russian society.

Life is populated with injustices and adjustments. The two are often mingled into one. Because of their inconvenience, life adjustments are often characterized as injustices. Whereas, some of them could very well be, in other situations we have come to see that we are entitled to have them. For example, the uproar from students at my middle school when cell phones were banned from being used during the school day as a result of how they were impacting classroom instruction.

Meantime, injustices are often accompanied by adjustments. In Russia, the underground church developed as a result of religious persecution. The Jesus Who was told to take a hike was still a resident in the hearts and minds of His followers.

African Americans adjusted to the injustices of racial oppression by expecting it and protesting in non-violent ways about it. The images of people being beaten and churches being bombed gained a hearing from those who were appalled by the inhumanity.

I sympathize with the loss of TikTok, at least temporarily, for those who have come to use it on a daily basis. Like our expectations that the flight we booked a few months in advance will be on time and then we’re told at the airport that it has been cancelled, the inconvenience and frustration we experience makes one want to bang his head against the wall.

Head-banging and having your head banged are two different plot lines. In a way, one is self-inflicted, and the other is inflicted on us. There’s a difference. Just read what Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 11. Now, there was some serious injustice and persecution!

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Reading the Wise and Passed-On

January 12, 2025

“The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel: for gaining wisdom and instruction;
    for understanding words of insight; for receiving instruction in prudent behavior,
    doing what is right and just and fair…” (Proverbs 1:1-3)

I’m reading the words of the deceased this year, those who have passed on but sought to cause us to reflect on scripture, the ways of the Lord, and the deeper truths of the Walk. I recently wrote about reading Tim Keller’s daily devotional on the Psalms (The Songs of Jesus). A friend of mine recommended Eugene Peterson’s As Kingfishers Catch Fire, so I picked up a copy and started exploring its riches. This year my study and reflection emphasis will be on those who are not concerned with selling a lot of books or being on someone’s top ten list. Like Keller and Peterson, I’m on the hunt for those who have left us but not left us empty.

Bonhoeffer’s The Cost of Discipleship sits on my shelf waiting to have its pages ruffled. Ron Sider’s Rich Christians In An Age of Hunger seems like a timely read. Actually, a re-read since I read it back in the 70s. Yoder’s The Politics of Jesus also beckons me to think of Jesus’s relationship and view of politics.

And then there’s C.S. Lewis whose books cover a wide space on one of my shelves.

All have passed on, but whose wisdom and insight still live. I’ve grown past the books that dot my shelves on church growth, church leadership, and how to tame a deacon gone ballistic. I still find myself savoring Philip Yancey’s What’s So Amazing About Grace? (but he’s still with us!) and less interested in how one speaks to younger generations without looking like an old, decrepit doofus.

In a culture that worships the latest and greatest, I’m more interested in the late departed. Keller and Tony Campolo have both passed in the last two years (Campolo last November 19 at the age of 89). The Community of Christ-followers is poorer at their loss but richer because of their ongoing impact.

Honestly, I think more about the final journey these days as I watch the list of those I have known be shifted over to the deceased column. There’s a serenity to my ponderings but an ache anchored in it as well. Like the first time I ate a poppyseed muffin, I wondered what all those specks were, and then I experienced how much they added to the bread.

As Paulo wrote to the believers in Corinth, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)


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Deep Thinking

January 5, 2025

 “Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd.  After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone.” (Matthew 14:22-23)

I’m not a philosopher. I wouldn’t even be so bold as to label myself a theologian. When I was in seminary, I’d sometimes have to resort to reading the theology of Pannenberg or Moltmann audibly in order to not go off the side of the road in mid-paragraph. Simple minds struggle with page-long paragraphs. But I struggled through it.

Ask me a history question, and there’s a much better possibility that I know the answer, even the nitty-gritty details of the occurrence. How I grow spiritually happens more in the quiet moments of contemplation rather than grabbing a theological work of Hans Kung off my bookshelf. I do better at reading a chunk of scripture and letting it roll through my mind rather than trying to read through the Bible in a year. I get lost around the time I hit Lamentations, which accurately expresses my demeanor at that time as well.

I went to the local Christian bookstore to find a yearly devotional and was amazed at the wall of possibilities but lukewarm about the product. I settled on a Tim Keller devotional, The Songs of Jesus, a devotional that focuses on the Psalms. Short readings each day that help me ponder and consider. If I can mine the riches in the Psalms this year, I’ll be blessed in more than a hundred and fifty ways. (Keller’s book, The Prodigal God, is still one of my favorites.)

The seminary professor who had the greatest impact on my life in the three years I was a student at Northern Baptist Seminary was Dr. Tom Finger, a professor of theology, who had an incredible way of making me think through why I believed what I believed. Analogy-wise, he caused me not just to dig the hole but to consider why I dug the hole in the first place.

Deep thinking requires slowing the pace, putting my cell phone in another room, maybe shutting the door, and not hurrying God to give me a pearl of wisdom. I’d be more of a swine than a follower if I did that. Deep thinking considers the grace of God from different angles, moves it around like a Rubric’s Cube that never quite gets completed.

Deep thinking looks at forgiveness and ponders how we pretend its existence and hold back on its potential. Deep thinking unmasks the tint of self-centeredness it can include while identifying the depths it can go to. It feels the ache and rejoices in the softness of its calling.

Honestly, we reside in a culture that too often is focus-deficient and swayed by how the moment feels. Our view of intimacy with God is prone to being dependent on the smoke-and-glitter of the last praise song. That sounds cynical because it is. I just wonder (There I go again!) if the Almighty would sometimes like to speak to us in the deepness of silence.

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Unrestful Peace

December 24, 2024


“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:14)

There have been times in my life when peace is about as far away as the South Pole. Unrest and uncertainty cloud my mind.

I almost flunked out of college and wondered what my life would look like if I couldn’t pursue my calling. Would I be waiting on customers at the Borden Burger fast food place in town or selling shoes in Unger’s Shoe Store?

A few years later, I was a newlywed, out of seminary, and employed as the Minister of Youth and Christian Education at a church in Michigan. It was tumultuous as I ran into resistance to some new ideas I had about youth ministry. I had come with experience working with youth in Young Life, a small town church, and a large suburban church. Experience was no match for the wall of opposition I encountered. Carol had to walk with me in that first year of ministry. My stress and unease could be felt by her. The bliss of being newly married felt bloodied and beaten by a few church people.

And then there was our move to Colorado to pastor a church. I was naive about the tension in the congregation that revolved around an excitement that many had to move forward compared with those on the other side who wanted the church to stay the way it was. The place of peace had been vacated on Sunday mornings.

When I read the Christmas story, I feel the unease that settled upon its main characters. Unexpected pregnancies have a way of unnerving people, especially when one of the pregnancies is of the young woman, probably in her mid-teens, who is engaged but unmarried. The Message paraphrase of Luke 2:29 describes Mary as being “…thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting (the angel’s) like that.”

The shepherds in the fields are characterized “as terrified”, Zachariah is “paralyzed with fear”, and Joseph is described as “chagrined.” Peace had taken a hike.

It is vital to the nativity narrative and for our stories today that peace rains down upon what was and what is now. God knows our hearts that are unrested. He knows the travails of our journeys and the troubling thoughts that rob us of sleep.

However, the same man who wrote in Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” wrote in Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.” When our world seems to be crashing in on us, God is close at hand and faithful.

Peace is as close as His extended hand toward us.

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New Jesuses

December 20, 2024

“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)

I read recently in the Wall Street Journal that there is a growing demand for white males in Utah with long blonde hair and beards to pose in family pictures as “white Jesuses.” Who knew that surfer dudes could step in for the Messiah.

Of course, Jesus has been the go-to name in several situations. Not family names, mind you, but rather ascribed nicknames for extraordinary people. At a recent high school basketball game, a player was going-off with long-range jump shots and spectacular moves. A few of the high school students sitting in the bleachers started calling him “Basketball Jesus.” A minute later, Basketball Jesus was fouled on a three-point attempt and then promptly missed all three free throws. Jesus had come back to earth, so to speak.

Jesus gets affixed to people in business, finance, service organizations, sports, and even entertainment. He’s black, white, red, brown, green, lavender, and polka-dotted. Interestingly, our culture, which is becoming less Christ-based, brings the Son of Man into the descriptions of outstanding performances. We have “Lightning Jesus” for track, “Chef Jesus”, and “Genius Jesus. Notre Dame has ha “Touchdown Jesus” for decades. There’s probably even a “Preacher Jesus.”

Humility never seems to be an ingredient and one of these spontaneously named Jesuses. In fact, in many cases performances by the present-day messiahs are punctuated with endzone dances and the flexing of muscles after a massive dunk. Jesus never sought the spotlight, but nowadays, “Jesuses” like to have their performance pulpits elevated by actions and words. “Blessed are the meek” is old-school and too St. Franciscan!

This may reveal my bias and disdain, but I wonder, in the next few months, how many “Jesuses” will enter the pearly gates of the transfer portal?

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Hearing God With Faulty Ears

December 9, 2024


“Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ.” (Romans 10:17)

Hitting seventy has seen me hit a few other things as well: my first cortisone shot in my knee, kidney stones, frequent trips to Walgreen’s to pick up prescription refills, earlier bedtimes, and doubts of being able to rise back up everytime I kneel down.

But one thing that I’m stubborn enough to not admit is my suspect hearing. I continue to tell myself that it’s not my hearing that’s the problem but rather people mumbling like toddlers who haven’t learned to enunciate their words. The result of my ignored deafness is my frequent misunderstanding of what someone has said to me.

For example, at basketball practice last week our team captain said a couple of things to me that didn’t make sense…to my hearing. Why was she asking me of my opinion about snow? When I replied that I don’t mind it, that there’s something kind of nice about getting a blizzard with a foot of snow she looked at me with confusion written all over her face.

“Coach, what are you talking about? What’s that got to do with asking you how my free throw form looks?”

“Oh. I thought you asked me what my opinion is of snow.”

Faulty hearing. I should say that faulty hearing results from my unwillingness to admit my increasing tendency to misunderstand and misinterpret. I can blame it on the loud rock-and-roll music I listened to back in the 70s, or the earbuds I’m wearing right now as I write these words, or the constant chattering of middle school students, but the truth is my ears are my originals that I can’t trade in for a newer model.

Transfer this “hearing dilemma” to the leadings of God. In a culture that could most accurately be characterized as self-serving and self-centered, there is an epidemic of misinterpreting the leadings of God. Sometimes, we hear what we want to hear and ignore what we prefer to avoid. If it feels good, it must be of God. If it hints of pain and discomfort, it’s not from the Holy.

Our suspect spiritual hearing leads us to places and positions that God not have in mind for us. When we only listen to God when the time is right or our schedule permits, it’s comparable to a math student trying to understand calculus right after he has learned the multiplication tables. The missing steps of his math journey will lead him to a disaster of gigantic mathmatical proportions. At best, he will look like a fool. Most likely, people will look at him with apprehension and distance themselves from his cluelessness.

Church congregations have faulty hearers. We can’t believe that we can hear the whisperings of the Holy Spirit when we only look to encounter him for an hour on some Sunday mornings. God does not slur His words, but we have a habit of slurring their meaning.

How can I know what God is saying to me? Get closer to Him. He won’t cringe or move away from me.

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Sunday Night Church and Ed Sullivan

October 26, 2024

“Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts…” (Acts 2:46)

Back in the really old days…like the late 50s and early 60s…my family’s Sunday routine was consistent: Sunday morning Sunday School and Worship, Sunday dinner (served instead of lunch), playing outside, and then getting in the car again for the drive to Sunday Night Worship. We were Southern Baptists, the lights aglow in the evening while the Methodists across the street stayed dark. Sunday nights at church were more relaxed. I didn’t have to wear my dorky bowtie or dress pants created to cause itching and torture. People seemed to be more engaged in light conversation and even laughed from time to time.

When we came home from church, my parents would turn on The Ed Sullivan Show, pop popcorn, and we’d gather in the living room. We’d laugh at Jonathan Winters, be amazed by some unique balancing act, and treat the performance of any vocalist as an opportunity to go to the bathroom.

It was family time, where we watched together, munched together, and talked together, Mom and Dad sitting on the only couch and the kids sprawled out on the floor.

Ed Sullivan has been gone for fifty years, passing away in 1974, while, in the meantime, “the family being together” has become a rare occurrence. Social networking, off as it sounds, has disconnected us; multiple streaming devices in the same household have separated us, and the disappearance of church gatherings has isolated us.

“Community” has been redefined as a chat room, a bowling league, and a gathering in a sports bar to watch the favorite sports team of a group of people who are all wearing team jerseys and/or hats.

“Community” in the first church in Jerusalem involved the weaving together of lives in sacrificial ways. They were a learning community, a sharing community, a prayerful community, and a serving community. Perhaps we can’t recover “community” to that point, but there’s got to be something more than a fellowship that rarely sees one another or a family that is staring into cell phones.

It’s disturbing that we, a nation of more than 350 million people, are more distant from one another than we’ve ever been.

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