"They" are at it again.
I was talking to a friend in North Carolina yesterday, and he told me "they" had come to their church. I was disappointed to hear that news. It has been my experience "they" exclusively go to churches. I was just sorry "they" moved south. I guess "they" are not a northern phenomenon after all.
The context of my friend's story was about music in the church. It is a church that has musical talent, especially among its young people. But, the teenagers are not given much opportunity to participate or lead in worship because of "they."
What would "they" say?
"They" are angry!
"They" are threatening to stop giving.
"They" annoy me. Mostly because their objections are based on their comfort level, not on their mission. Tradition overrules. And instead of hearing the command to go, "they" just sit.
I confess. I wish "they" would get going, or go sit somewhere else.
24 November 2010
12 November 2010
Is This a Joke?
It looked like the beginning of a joke.
Three pastors sat together in a room. An Anglican. A Pentecostal. And a Baptist.
Except, it was no joke. Three men. Three theological persuasions. Three different pastoral roles. And...one Lord!
I have always found it fascinating when we keep our hearts focused on Jesus, that many of the things that seemed so important before, seem less important.
It's not that I don't believe what I believe is important. I think doctrine is huge! I hold on to many of my doctrinal positions with great fervor. They are so core to who I am.
I rejoiced for the three of us that day. We were planning a worship service that involved all the evangelical ministries on campus. We discovered with ease that we had much more in common than what was different. Our mission was the same: Worship. Unity. A campus that needs Jesus.
Three men in a room. The Holy Spirit in our midst. It was a holy moment.
Three pastors sat together in a room. An Anglican. A Pentecostal. And a Baptist.
Except, it was no joke. Three men. Three theological persuasions. Three different pastoral roles. And...one Lord!
I have always found it fascinating when we keep our hearts focused on Jesus, that many of the things that seemed so important before, seem less important.
It's not that I don't believe what I believe is important. I think doctrine is huge! I hold on to many of my doctrinal positions with great fervor. They are so core to who I am.
I rejoiced for the three of us that day. We were planning a worship service that involved all the evangelical ministries on campus. We discovered with ease that we had much more in common than what was different. Our mission was the same: Worship. Unity. A campus that needs Jesus.
Three men in a room. The Holy Spirit in our midst. It was a holy moment.
13 October 2010
Wearing a Girdle...
I was afraid it might come to this someday. I am wearing a girdle.
And they are every bit as uncomfortable as I imagined them to be. What is worse, is that this abdominal (or is it abominable?) binder is doing nothing to return me to my "girlish" figure. Okay, I never wanted that anyway.
I had surgery on Monday. For years now, I have been putting up with a bothersome hernia. A few weeks ago, it turned into more than bothersome. It became painful. So, under the knife I went.
Now, I am sitting here at 2 AM, dozing on painkillers, but not really being able to sleep.
I know it is slightly ironic, but it is when something goes wrong with my body that I admire the complexity of God's creativity when it comes to the human body. For this slight weakness in the muscle wall has caused the whole of my body to complain: "We are in pain!"
I am incurable when it comes to recognizing design. The whole world shouts at us about a Creator. It speaks every day with its beauty. And when we don't get it, God uses its brokenness to convince us. He even will use pain to get our attention.
Yet, for all the clear communication that is put forth, it is amazing how deaf humanity can be.
"I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
And they are every bit as uncomfortable as I imagined them to be. What is worse, is that this abdominal (or is it abominable?) binder is doing nothing to return me to my "girlish" figure. Okay, I never wanted that anyway.
I had surgery on Monday. For years now, I have been putting up with a bothersome hernia. A few weeks ago, it turned into more than bothersome. It became painful. So, under the knife I went.
Now, I am sitting here at 2 AM, dozing on painkillers, but not really being able to sleep.
I know it is slightly ironic, but it is when something goes wrong with my body that I admire the complexity of God's creativity when it comes to the human body. For this slight weakness in the muscle wall has caused the whole of my body to complain: "We are in pain!"
I am incurable when it comes to recognizing design. The whole world shouts at us about a Creator. It speaks every day with its beauty. And when we don't get it, God uses its brokenness to convince us. He even will use pain to get our attention.
Yet, for all the clear communication that is put forth, it is amazing how deaf humanity can be.
"I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
20 September 2010
A simple call...
My son, James (aka JJ) called me this morning.
He really encouraged my heart today. He called me for advice.
It is not that this is an infrequent event. He still calls from time to time. But it is nice to know, that even though he is in Boston with his lovely wife (who gives him wise counsel), he still considers my opinion worth hearing.
It is on days like this I feel proud of my son. He has a heart for God. He works hard with young lives that need redirection. And he is wise enough to know that he does not have all the answers.
Good for him! And good for the kingdom of God!
He really encouraged my heart today. He called me for advice.
It is not that this is an infrequent event. He still calls from time to time. But it is nice to know, that even though he is in Boston with his lovely wife (who gives him wise counsel), he still considers my opinion worth hearing.
It is on days like this I feel proud of my son. He has a heart for God. He works hard with young lives that need redirection. And he is wise enough to know that he does not have all the answers.
Good for him! And good for the kingdom of God!
12 September 2010
Pops!
On 10 Sep 10, I became a grandfather.
My first thought about this is that I am far too young, but when I look in the mirror, it does appear I am suited for the job. My bald head, gray hair, and somewhat paunchy waist bear a stunning resemblance to the grandfathers in my past.
My second thought is grandfatherhood didn't happen the way I had anticipated. I understand that some will struggle with my struggle, but I had hoped that all my grandchildren would be produced from committed married relationships. It hasn't. I believe my daughter and her boyfriend have made it harder on themselves, but I do hope they will endeavor to make a home where our grandson will know the blessing of a committed marriage and loving parents.
My third thought is about opportunity. Once again, God's purpose for me as a disciple maker is front and center. It is my hope that our grandson will be influenced by the example of his grandparents. It is my prayer that he will see Jesus in us and want a relationship with Him too.
"Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ." (I Corinthians 11.1, ESV)
So I am off...off to be "Pops"...off to another new adventure...off to make a difference for God's kingdom.
My first thought about this is that I am far too young, but when I look in the mirror, it does appear I am suited for the job. My bald head, gray hair, and somewhat paunchy waist bear a stunning resemblance to the grandfathers in my past.
My second thought is grandfatherhood didn't happen the way I had anticipated. I understand that some will struggle with my struggle, but I had hoped that all my grandchildren would be produced from committed married relationships. It hasn't. I believe my daughter and her boyfriend have made it harder on themselves, but I do hope they will endeavor to make a home where our grandson will know the blessing of a committed marriage and loving parents.
My third thought is about opportunity. Once again, God's purpose for me as a disciple maker is front and center. It is my hope that our grandson will be influenced by the example of his grandparents. It is my prayer that he will see Jesus in us and want a relationship with Him too.
"Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ." (I Corinthians 11.1, ESV)
So I am off...off to be "Pops"...off to another new adventure...off to make a difference for God's kingdom.
21 July 2010
Strike!
It rains a lot at Mahaffey. Well, it seems to rain a lot when I am there. Thus, the nickname - "Mud-haffey."
When I say "Mahaffey," I mean PA. I also mean the Christian and Missionary Alliance (CMA) camp. It is where my wife, Dondra, would spend a couple of weeks every summer when CMAers from every corner of western PA would come together to make a unique Christian community.
Saturday night, it was raining in Mahaffey - again. In fact, it was more than just rain. It was a good old-fashioned thunderstorm. Lots of lightning. Lots of thunder. A perfect night to sit on your porch and watch the wonder of it all.
JJ, Natalie, Elizabeth, Joel and I were sitting on the porch enjoying the storm. It was spectacular! And as we counted out the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, we knew that many of the strikes were close to camp.
Just as we made that comment, we saw a tree light up less than 100' from our porch. Whether the light went from top to bottom or bottom to top (or both), we can't say. The strike happened - so fast! But we do know that wood splinters were everywhere. Some were as large as 6' long and as smooth as a saw cut.
It was terrifying and awesome all at the same time. We were shaking with delight. It was one of those events that sort of marks you. You begin to realize that you are not much in control.
"The Heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork."
When I say "Mahaffey," I mean PA. I also mean the Christian and Missionary Alliance (CMA) camp. It is where my wife, Dondra, would spend a couple of weeks every summer when CMAers from every corner of western PA would come together to make a unique Christian community.
Saturday night, it was raining in Mahaffey - again. In fact, it was more than just rain. It was a good old-fashioned thunderstorm. Lots of lightning. Lots of thunder. A perfect night to sit on your porch and watch the wonder of it all.
JJ, Natalie, Elizabeth, Joel and I were sitting on the porch enjoying the storm. It was spectacular! And as we counted out the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, we knew that many of the strikes were close to camp.
Just as we made that comment, we saw a tree light up less than 100' from our porch. Whether the light went from top to bottom or bottom to top (or both), we can't say. The strike happened - so fast! But we do know that wood splinters were everywhere. Some were as large as 6' long and as smooth as a saw cut.
It was terrifying and awesome all at the same time. We were shaking with delight. It was one of those events that sort of marks you. You begin to realize that you are not much in control.
"The Heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork."
16 July 2010
Legacy
I have just spent a week at Camp Hickory Hill (Varysburg, NY) as the Camp Shepherd. It has been a great week, and though I have been here a lot of times over the past 12 years, this experience seems unique to me.
There is no doubt that I have reached an age when I think about ministry differently. My shifting focus is on what I am leaving behind. It is no longer a matter of using the gifts and skills I have been given, but rather, investing in young people in such a way that they can use theirs. I don't know if I am late in getting into this mindset, but I have found it profoundly fulfilling.
Much of the mystique that surrounds Camp Hickory Hill is about legacy. It is about training boys to be men. It is about training young men to be men of God.
This week, I have been observing young men serve as leaders that I once had as campers. As campers, they were consistent headaches. They stepped over the boundaries. They frequently wandered from the group. They were fidgety. At times, I was tempted to see them as hopeless.
But now, as leaders, they are remarkably different. They are focused. They are servants. They are on a mission to lead campers into a relationship with Jesus. They have stepped forward into a glorious adventure.
It is an adventure that has continued through the ages, beginning when twelve men followed Jesus around the Galilean countryside. I find being a part of that legacy extremely satisfying.
There is no doubt that I have reached an age when I think about ministry differently. My shifting focus is on what I am leaving behind. It is no longer a matter of using the gifts and skills I have been given, but rather, investing in young people in such a way that they can use theirs. I don't know if I am late in getting into this mindset, but I have found it profoundly fulfilling.
Much of the mystique that surrounds Camp Hickory Hill is about legacy. It is about training boys to be men. It is about training young men to be men of God.
This week, I have been observing young men serve as leaders that I once had as campers. As campers, they were consistent headaches. They stepped over the boundaries. They frequently wandered from the group. They were fidgety. At times, I was tempted to see them as hopeless.
But now, as leaders, they are remarkably different. They are focused. They are servants. They are on a mission to lead campers into a relationship with Jesus. They have stepped forward into a glorious adventure.
It is an adventure that has continued through the ages, beginning when twelve men followed Jesus around the Galilean countryside. I find being a part of that legacy extremely satisfying.
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