Jesus Keeps Coming To Church

First, he showed up three weeks ago, right when we were busy with our big Welcome Sunday. He came in looking just like one of the homeless people we often get from the shelter a couple of blocks away. I wasn't sure it was him, and did the usual procedure of alerting the ushers. In the past, some of our shelter visitors have taken to roaming the halls and stopping folks asking for money. But now we have a pass-code on the door leading to the Nursery wing and ushers have been asked to intercede if the pan-handling starts.

But right before the worship processional began that day, I saw Jesus seated at the back by one of our members, who pleasantly pointed out to me we have a guest today. And our member took Jesus to the lunch we were having that day, and apparently invited him back.

The next Sunday I saw him walking up the street before the early service, stooped over a bit, with a sort of shuffle -step. Afterwards he asked about a Sunday School class. Another member said she'd show him to a class of people about the same age, and led him away.

I thought that was the end of it, but last Sunday, when I got to the front of the sanctuary at the second service, I saw him sitting in the back. Unmistakable - crumpled clothes, mis-aligned smile, and hair done by fingers, sitting in a sea of properness.

Yesterday, just after I'd started my Inquirer's Class, for new and prospective members, the door opened, and in he came. We had to stop for a moment while some of the folks made room for another chair in the circle. Then we continued our introductions to one another.

We learned that Jesus had a name, a pretty name, Elenita. Had recently moved into supervised adult-living apartments nearby. And was frustrated because each Sunday, the supervisor says she isn't supposed to walk the three blocks away from the apartment, but she insists she is going to church. Whereupon the other class members encouraged her.

And on the Sabbath, he went to the synagogue, as was his custom. (Luke 4:16.) Thank you, Lord, for honoring us with your presence. Thank you, members, for your welcoming spirit. Maybe this "Open Doors, Open Hearts, Open Minds" marketing line means something after all.

Via Georgetown

Haven't blogged since Tuesday because of travel. Went to the Bishop's School at the beach. Thursday had to go to Columbia for an Aldersgate Special Needs Meeting, then back to the beach for the end of Bishop's School. Thursday I started a post on changes in the orders of ministry, but it got too complicated, so I didn't post it. That's got to be a sign of how our structure needs work, when even a blog post to talk about it quickly gets too complex.

But I broke up one of the trips by stopping in Georgetown to take some pictures. I'd remembered a small church from my Salkehatchie Camps there, years ago, that had a hand written sign out front, The Fire Baptized, Holy Spirit Filled Apostles Church of the True Vine of Jesus Christ. I didn't think it would still be around, and didn't find it. But I did find one church with an interesting sign.

It amazes me that people let you take their pictures. I surely don't look like a photographer, with my little Nikon Coolpix digital, that I detest, by the way. Since I don't have a telephoto lens where I can 'swipe' a shot from a distance, I have to get close. So I always ask if it is OK. Sometimes I get a No, but usually they stop and pose. Of course, it helps if you strike up a conversation first, especially if it is to be a picture of children. Can't be too careful these days, I might be a looney.

Our nominee Tim McClendon

This past June, the South Carolina delegates to General Conference and to the Southeastern Jurisdictional Conference unamiously endorsed the Rev. Dr. Tim McClendon as our nominee for the episcopacy. We will elect one new bishop (unless there are some surprise retirements between now and then) at our SEJ Conference next July. We think Tim is not only the best qualified through his experience and service for the job, but that he will provide the kind of leadership our church needs for the future.

I'm blogging about Tim now because a web site about Tim, http://www.timsej.com/, introducing him to the other delegations, has been set up. I hope you will visit it, and maybe leave Tim a note of encouragement.

I've known Tim many years and teach alongside him at the Emory Course of Study during the summer. He's a solid, compassionate pastor, who's carried those qualities into his role now as a District Superintendent. And most people know he's a Discipline whiz who knows how to make our structures work for ministry. He's also a potter. A few years ago, he was the speaker at our church's winter beach retreat. The photo is one of Tim at the wheel, throwing clay and teaching about the life of grace. Our members who attended still talk about how great that retreat was.

Eureka!

I sometimes struggle with the "familiar" texts. When the lextionary presents a passage that is so well known, you read it, and read it, and wonder what can you say about it in a sermon that isn't so blatantly obvious. Sometimes it feels as though it's all been said before, and there is nothing new under the sun.

That's the way I felt last night trying to work on a sermon for this coming Sunday. I felt drawn to the gospel lesson, Luke 15:1-10, which has the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin. But I was coming up with nothing.

I tried the "explosion on paper" method, where you take a notepad and write down any and every thought that comes to you while ruminating on the passage. One thought will lead to another and then as you go back over it, often a theme emerges. Nope, nothing, even after three pages of word pictures. I was tired and went on to bed.

Then I woke up at 4:30, laid there in the bed, and my sermon - along with a title (The Seeker) - was simply there in my head. Eureka! Got up, made a pot of coffee and started typing it out. Amazing how the brain can keep working while you sleep. Come to think of it, that's how I got through my college classes!

The first pieces are put in place...

We're probably doing it all wrong. Sunday afternoon we had our first meeting to plan Mosaic, a new worship service. Six youth and five young adults met with the youth minister, the music minister, and me to see what we might do to create a new worship experience in our church. Most had never heard the term "emerging worship." So I gave them a brief introduction about the ancient-future orientation, emphasizing the goal of making worship highly participatory. I shared some stuff from the Gen. Board of Discipleship web site about the four movements of worship: gathering, proclamation, thanksgiving and Communion, and sending forth. Then I reviewed what the staff had already done: choosing a name, designing a logo, collecting the equipment we have available, and reserving a time on the church calendar. Then I turned it over to them and sat back, wondering what would happen.

The youth jumped in first, excited about the possibilities. Then the young adults started filling out what the service could look like. Then came a call to prayer and then they split into groups to work on the music and the worship. Mosaic is to begin in two weeks! Just two weeks.

I've read the books and I have considerable experience in how churches operate. Allow a minimum of six months to initiate a new worship. Build interest and gain approval through the right church structures. Pray, plan, design, incorporate, and communicate every step of the way. Well, we're out of the box on this one. We have six Sunday evenings lined up for the fall series of Mosaic, and for me, the big question will be whether leadership will emerge to sustain it. But I have to admit it was delightful to just be a participant in the plannings and to see the way the others jumped right in with ideas and commitments.

Different, but Same

My wife Cynthia was back in prison this weekend, working through a program called Epiphany, with the young girls incarcerated. She told me she counseled with one young lady whose story was horrific - all the abuse she'd been through and the things she'd done. The girl looked to be in her early 20's, but when Cynthia asked the girl's age, she was shocked to hear she was only 16! That's the age of our daughter, who this weekend, as a Certified Lay Speaker, filled in for Cynthia by preaching at her church.

I really don't know what to do with this juxtaposition. Of course, I can be grateful, for being born into a lineage of grace, and being able to pass that on. And I can anguish in prayer, along with Cynthia, for the young women who have little idea what wholesome love is like; who don't know they can trust a Heavenly Father to love and forgive them. But the starkness of contrast between the lives of two 16 year olds leaves me longing for God's Kingdom, where two girls, living in worlds so different, can know the same life-giving grace of God they desperately need.

Then add this to the weekend. One of the ladies in my church, who is fiercely angry about the pews being removed from the chapel, called to say she wanted to drop by the house. She came to the door and handed me a copy of the new book about Mother Teresa: Mother Teresa, Come Be My Light. The Private Writings of the "Saint of Calcutta" edited by Brian Kolodiejchuk. She said that she heard it had just arrived at the book store and since I'd mentioned it in a recent sermon, thought I'd like a copy.

This is the inscription on the flyleaf; To Stephen (and Cynthia), in Christian love (in spite of our disagreements), then,her name. We have distinctly different views of the church facilities. She wants to preserve the historic, Gothic character of the facilities, and I'm more concerned about adapting the rooms to present and future usage. We have our differences, but are bound to one another under the same discipleship, one Lord, one faith, one baptism. It is rare (unfortunately) to serve among people who keep their dissatisfaction focused on the issues and don't personalize the conflict, who can demonstrate love while disagreeing. Different we be, and yet the same, sinners being redeemed by grace.

Another Picasso perhaps, if I'd only studied....

Met a new friend yesterday who is a local art teacher. I immediately felt a slight sense of intimidation due simply to the fact that I love artistic expression, but feel incompetent myself to produce anything of artistic quality. After somehow putting that into words to her, she simply said, "I disagree."

Basically what she then told me was that so much of art is learned. Whether you draw, paint, sculpt clay or whatever, you can learn to express yourself better and do a better job at it. If you were to take a group of adults who have not taken any lessons and had them draw, paint, or sculpt, their work would be comparable to children's work. But if those same adults had studied art the same way they had continued in youth to study math, english and science, their artistic expression would be much more advanced. So, she said, "Go, take a class in whatever medium you like and get started."

To me, she definitely made a great case for adequately funding the art program in our local schools! (Which in most school districts is woeful.) But she also made a great case for Christian education in the church.

If you were to take a group of Christian adults who haven't studied the Bible or aspects of the faith since childhood, their spiritual concepts and expressions would likely be comparable to children's. But if those same adults had continued to learn as disciples, the same way they'd continued to learn in other important areas of their lives, imagine the spiritual maturity that could be present in our congregations.

So, if you've ever said, "I can't pray like others," or "I know so little about the Bible it's embarassing," or "I wish I knew what to say to people when they are grieving or struggling," go, get involved in a study group and in the church, and get started.

Parental Powerlessness

Children are not supposed to die before their parents. Don't know where I heard that, but I thought of it yesterday when I visited the parents of a man who died in our community. I remembered a tombstone from the 1800's I saw in Scotland, that listed six children. When I greeted these parents I sensed a black void of grief lurking in the room, held at bay by their stoic resolve. Our moistened eyes acknowledged the pain, but there wasn't sufficient strength to speak of it beyond my expressing sadness for their loss. Quickly the conversation turned to the blessings of their son's life. And there are many.

Clark Bynum was a successful businessman in Sumter, a basketball standout in high school and college, and gained extensive fame when he and a friend helped subdue a hijacker in 2000. I never really got to know him personally, but from all reports he was a devout Christian man whose complete trust in God blessed others as he lived as a servant of Christ, and especially in these last months as he battled cancer.

I left the Bynum home and decided to spend the afternoon at home, with my daughter, home from school early because of the pain in her wrist. Last week she had to leave tennis practice because of the pain, which the orthopedic doctor thinks is due to a torn cartilage. We'll know for sure after an MRI this week.

I looked at my sleeping daughter and like any other parent, would have gladly traded my healthy wrist for her damaged one. And when I think on this feeling, my thoughts go to parents over the world who endure witnessing their children suffer greatly, many times for preventable reasons, such as hunger and war. We do all we can as parents to shield our children, but when it comes down to it, we are powerless to prevent their pain. Yet our love keeps us vulnerable and in this powerlessness we taste the poignancy of God's love.

I do not understand this deep mystery. Many years ago, theologians like Moltmann gave me concepts and words to talk about an awareness that had grown inside me since teen years. It is a Biblical concept, well known and much written about, but still one that has to take root inside you. That is, that while God is a God of all power and authority, God has chosen to relate to us through God's passion. God's power is known in weakness, and God redeems in the midst of suffering and pain. For God so loved the world that God gave God's own Son to suffer and die, holding back all the power and authority God possesses, to redeem us through the mystery of powerlessness and love.

"My ways are not your ways," God is quoted as saying. And the apostle Paul writes, "the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing" (1 Cor 1:18). I wonder if we come closest to knowing God, not in the moments of estacy or transcendent joy, but when we enter the pain and suffering of others and feel the breath-stealing weight of "powerless love" upon our hearts. And in the mystery of God's passionate presence and redemption we have the assurance, Cast all your cares upon God, because God cares for us. (1Pet 5:7). I claim that promise for myself, for the Bynums, and for all parents today.

Top Ten Questions

Cynthia and I were visiting with our friends Jim and Kathryn today (all of us ministers) and we were talking about a lot of things pastors have to deal with. So we came up with:

The top ten things Not to ask your Pastor.
10. I’m coming to decorate my Sunday school room at 7 AM Saturday, do I need to get a key, or will you be there?
9. Have you visited my aunt’s brother’s daughter-in-law’s neighbor who’s been in the hospital since last Tuesday?
8. Right before the worship service, “Can I talk to you a minute?”
7. Reverend, what do you do the rest of the week?
6. What do you wear under your robe?
5. Preacher, what’s the chapter and verse for that passage that says “the trees of the field will clap their hands” (or any scriptural phrase)?
4. Did you wash your hands before you served us communion?
3. A new family moved in beside us this week, have you visited them yet?
2. Why don’t you do things like our last pastor?

And, the number one thing not to ask your Pastor -
1. Are you sure you feel called to the ministry?

The walls are up!

Secure walls. Secure dwellings. Well, not secure right now with no roof or anything else, but it won't be long. On my way to Allendale yesterday to visit a family at a funeral home, I stopped by The Oaks in Orangeburg, one of our church's centers for retirement living. I wanted to see the progress on our Aldersgate Special Needs Ministry home. I drove down the long entrance road, lined with the ancient oaks, and there it was. I walked through the studded-out rooms and it hit me, in a few months there will be six adults with developmental disorders calling this home. I was caught by surprise by my emotions and I was glad I was alone. There have been years of meetings and business and now to actually see this dream materializing moved me. But being the male I am, I swallowed my feelings, grabbed my little camera and took some pictures before the evening enveloped us.

Add to this the good news that our Columbia home is back under construction. Held up by a zoning complaint, the hearing last Friday went in our favor, and after this week, that home should be about ready for the roof trusses. There are six females anxiously waiting its completion, and of course, waiting for us to hire and train staff and raise the rest of the operational budget.

To be honest, I have had some jealously toward my colleagues who have been serving on other Boards of Trust for our institutions. Listening to them talk, their experiences have been so different than mine. For a small state, we have some excellent, prestigious colleges and homes. Their trustees have work to do, but there are administrative staffs that prepare everything ahead of time and there are institutional resources that undergird their work. Our Board has had to do everything from scratch, with none of us experienced in creating a service institution. And we still have a long road to go to gain Conference recognition and support. But driving away from the Oaks, I realized my colleagues should be jealous of my trustee experience. To be part of a dedicated group of people who have come together to serve a particular group of people in need has been a rich experience. To be able to walk through the rooms of your shared dreams is amazing. Now with everything else, we'll have to watch out for tidal waves of joy.