Tuesday, December 16, 2014

How silently, how silently...

"How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given;
so God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heaven."
                                         - O Little Town Of Bethlehem, 3rd verse

I am astounded at how loud the world has gotten lately.  I stepped into an elevator at a nearby hospital to do a pastoral call on a parishioner and was almost deafened by the piped-in music playing through the speakers inside that tiny moving box.  Christmas music has begun playing on the radio, Christmas shopping commercials have begun occupying television air-time, and all around are the Silver Bells reminding us (as if we could ever forget!) that it's "Christmas time in the city!"

The noise and din of the world's commercialized view of the holidays seems at times to me to be somewhat forced.  "It is Christmas time, and don't you forget it, Buster!"  And to make sure that you get into the mood, carols will be played at the top volume; decorations will go up post-haste; Christmas sales will be crammed into your inbox, your mailbox, and...well, your face lest you forget that you have so much more to do.

Now, don't get me wrong - I love Christmas.  The traditions that have accumulated over the generations are grand, and remind us of a simpler time, a better time, a time filled with family and friends, and good cheer.  My Christmases are filled with memories.  Of that old hand-blown glass candy dish filled with the hard ribbon candy (all stuck together into one confectionery blob, mind you!) sitting on the old buffet in Grandma's Dining room.  Of the smell of the pine yule logs in the fireplace, so full of sap they were hard to light.  Of the worn out pages of the old Sears and Roebuck Wish Book, that had been so paged through it barely held together.  Of the frosty windows, and seeing your breath outdoors in the cold frozen air as you hiked up that hill again pulling your Flexible Flyer sled behind you for one more ride down the hill before dark.  I remember all that stuff, and it warms the cockles of my heart just like most people.

But somewhere along the way, something was forgotten.  Left out.  Fallen by the wayside.  Not intentionally, mind you.  But somewhere we became absent minded.  We forgot what the core of the season was all about.  But we didn't notice much because of all the excitement and noise.

And I cannot help but wonder...have we grown deaf to the silence of the season?  Have we grown so accustomed to the noise that we cannot hear the silence of eternity breaking into the chaos of our world?

I was privileged to visit the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem twice in recent years.  And each time I was able to be there, I was surrounded by literally hundreds of tourists straining to see the grotto where supposedly Mary gave birth to God's Son, Jesus.  It is a place adorned with artwork that is hundreds of years old, and at the same time, is remarkably humble.  A Church has been built over the site, but with patience, one can walk down the narrow steps beneath the altar and see where God became a tiny human being.  I daresay the noise of that night was nothing compared to what we hear today.

Phillips Brooks' Christmas hymn, "O Little Town Of Bethlehem" is one of my favorites because it speaks to this silence.  And I am reminded that no amount of shouting, clanging, or other noise will enable me to hear "how silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given."  It is only when I sit quietly and tune out the noise that I even become aware of just how noisy the world has become, perhaps it its attempts to squelch the silence of this holy mystery that has become flesh among us.

"No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin,
where meek souls will receive him, still the dear Christ enters in."

Monday, June 2, 2014

My next Twenty Years...

Tomorrow, I will be celebrating my twentieth ordination anniversary as an Elder in the United Methodist Church.  Looking back, it has been an exciting, strange, scary, and exhilarating experience.  In those twenty years, I have served four congregations, had two children, moved six times (two parsonages in one town, and changed houses in another), officiated at 45 weddings, baptized 91 new Christians, confirmed 34 youth into the faith, officiated over 155 funerals, celebrated one church's 50th anniversary, and another's 30th.  (I cannot even begin to count the number of meetings I've sat through!)

In twenty years, I have had the privilege of working with some of the finest folks Christianity has ever known.  I've sat with people as they shared their inmost fears, witnessed their highest joys, shared their pain, worked through their sorrows, welcomed new members, and said goodbye to those who moved on.

I have witnessed the "lights go on" when God speaks in a moment of revelation during bible study (I've taught over 35 classes!), and have watched as people could not shake the way that God allowed suffering.  I've laughed with little children who taught me the joy of being a child of God again, and witnessed the pain of families who have suffered the onslaught of divorce and brokenness.  I have helped young families welcome a new child into their homes, and I have held the hands of those who embarked on that final journey through the transition from this world to the next.  I have shared in the joy of serving communion to folks whose next meal would have been at Christ's holy table, and I have served Communion to those who knelt at the Chancel Rail for the first time without their beloved spouse of many years.

In all these experiences, one thing has forever been on my mind and in my heart.  Each moment in time was forever etched as a holy moment - a sacred moment.  God was eternally present in every single moment.  I wish I could say that it was because of me.  But that would be extraordinarily arrogant of me.  No, I believe that those moments were not because of me or anything that I did, but rather those were the moments that God had planned to be present, and I was blessed enough to have been there to witness it.

Ministry is a phenomenon that is difficult to describe.  And yet, it is one that boasts the blessing of being able to see those holy moments - those sacred epiphanies - those revelations of grace - when God comes to be present with God's people, and touches their lives with a grace that is astounding, and amazing.

I have been most especially blessed to have been given the opportunity to labor in God's vineyard these last twenty years.  But I think I'm looking forward to the next twenty years.  Who knows what new mysteries might be revealed, or in what ways God will surprise us all, suspend our worldly reality, and invade our lives with the magnitude and fortitude of Grace as only God can!  I tell you what, though.  I know I don't want to dare miss it!

See you in Church!

Grace and peace,
Brad

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Have your people call my people, and we'll do lunch...or a meeting...

After serving the local church for over 27 years, I have come to a rather startling conclusion:  I don't like meetings.  Well, to be honest, I don't mind meetings entirely, I just want them to be productive.  Let me explain.

A little while ago, I was asked to sit in on a meeting at a local congregation.  It wasn't your typical meeting.  By that I mean, it actually had an agenda, and the leadership of the meeting kept to the agenda.  More importantly, they decided at the outset of their meeting, that their agenda was going to be full, and that there was no room for anything new to be added onto the agenda.

It started off well with prayer (as all good meetings should), asking that God guide their discussion, and open their hearts to see the movement of the Holy Spirit, but as soon as the prayer was over, it quickly turned to a business meeting only.  No more reference of God, Jesus Christ, or the Holy Spirit, entered the conversation from that point forward.  In the midst of a difficult discussion, where there was obviously some tension over a disagreement regarding a plan of action, at no time did the leadership (nor anyone else on the committee for that matter) offer to pause, seek guidance from the same Holy Spirit that had been invited into their midst, and discern God's will for the direction they were to take.  It was all very orderly, and very business-like.

One of the things that I was taught early on about church meetings is that if we don't start in the right place, we aren't going to end up in the right place.  That is, if we don't start with reminding ourselves from the outset that, as a committee, we belong to God, and are called together to serve God's purposes, and then continue to remind ourselves of this fact throughout the meeting, our agendas quickly become expedient ways to achieve our own objectives, and not God's will.  We become self-serving.

A case in point: One of the first congregations I served as a student pastor was a small rural church in Nebraska.  (The membership of all the committees was essentially everyone in the church - that's how small it was!)  And the church met monthly to handle all of its business after worship on the second Sunday of the month.  Each meeting was allowed to last 55 minutes.  (And by 55 minutes, I do not mean 56 minutes!)  The reason?  Everyone had brought along food for the Second Sunday Potluck, and no one wanted to eat cold food!  If anything came up that was not handled in that 55 minute time frame, then it was tabled until the next month's meeting.  Needless to say, decisions were not made quickly in that church.

Not once did anyone say, "Wait a minute!  I believe that God is calling us to do something about this situation right now!"  Instead, the aroma of the green bean casserole and the fried chicken would lead the meeting to a quick adjournment.

Meetings in the church should be about the Kingdom!  When the Trustees meet for example, the focus should not be on whether or not an Alcoholics Anonymous group (or any other groups!) should be able to meet in the church because some are afraid they might smoke too close to the front door.  Or whether or not the children's ministry is marking up the floors by sliding the chairs too much.  Ministry in the Trustees ought to be about what can be done to make ministry more accessible to those who have not yet heard of the saving grace of Jesus Christ.  Not less accessible in order to save on the maintenance costs of the facilities.

Likewise, Finance Committees ought not be worried so much about "deficit budgets" (where the projected income as determined by the number and amount of "pledgers" meets the requested spending amounts from the various ministry areas) and more on how to inspire people to see that God's vision for the ministry of building up the kingdom of God involves the commitment of disciples who are willing to do what it takes to introduce people to Christ.  The amount of "red ink" or "numbers in parentheses" in financial summaries should never be the determining factor of whether or not to do God's will in making disciples for Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.  Whenever this happens, the symptoms run the clinic and treatment plan - and not the other way around.  Instead, the role of the Finance Committee is to support the ministry areas of the church in an effort to invite people to catch the vision of kingdom building. Unfortunately, most finance committees only see bottom lines, and tend to become much like other businesses, seeking a profit or at least a balanced budget as their objective.  But the kingdom cannot be measured by balanced budgets or profit margins in this world.  The balance is only recognized when the harvest has come in - and its yields will be greater than ever imagined - only for those whose faithfulness to God's calling is upheld.

Missions Committees ought not be so concerned about who gets how much money from the annual budget, but more about how can we help every person in the pews to be inspired to make disciples.  Mission work is not just for the handful that sits on the committee - but for every person who has become a Christian.  We all pledged to uphold the Church by our prayers, presence, gifts, SERVICE and WITNESS.  The same can be said for Education, Evangelism, Outreach, etc.  Every committee in the church is designed to serve the mission of the Church - to make disciples of Jesus Christ so that the world can be transformed into the Kingdom of God.  That's what we pray for every time we say the Lord's Prayer: "...thy will be done ON EARTH as it is in Heaven..."

Committee work is essential.  But it doesn't have to be boring!  We just need to remember to keep the main thing the main thing!  And turn to God often.  And pray.  And listen for what God wants us to do.  And we might just find that we'll be even more effective (and dare I say, "efficient"?) in the long run.

See you in Church!

Grace and peace,
Brad

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

"Staring at the rock at my feet."

I'm struggling today.

Not because of all the work that the RIM I class did on its mission project at the Corredor de Esperanza (which was absolutely amazing and fantastic!).  Not because I got up this morning at 3 am to take my parents to the airport to board a plane for California to visit with my sister for the next several weeks (I'd do anything for them!).  Not because it is pushing 90 degrees here, and I'm sitting in front of a little 4 inch fan that is trying as hard as it can to move some air around (Ok, this one I admit has me down somewhat!).  But I'm struggling today.

I'm struggling today because of what has been building and building for the last several months, and will not stop until it has gotten in the face of every United Methodist in our Conference (SWTX) and the whole of the Church.  I'm struggling today.

I'm struggling today because of the amount of rhetoric and argument that has not stopped nor waned in the least concerning the desire by some for schism.  I'm struggling today.

I'm struggling because I want more than anything else to know that the church I love and have devoted my entire adult life to serve will be around for my grandchildren to  come to know Christ in.  (I'm even struggling because I know that sentence was wrought with grammatical errors, and I don't even care enough to fix it.)  I'm struggling because I cannot locate my copy of Phyllis Tickle's book which looks back historically and remembers that about every 500 years or so, the Church goes through a major upheaval and forever changes.  And I am on the sidelines, desperately trying to figure out where I stand...  I'm really struggling today.

Orthodoxy has always had a strange attraction to me - perhaps because I have so loved history, and I have long desired to be counted in that number of saints who have marched in faith across the generations of time.  I have found great comfort in knowing that there has always been a remnant of the faithful, who have struggled to hold fast to that which was taught from the beginning.

And at the same time, I have found that progressivism has a certain appeal - taking the timeless truths of Christ and finding new ways to share them with a new people who are unaware of them, brings me a sense of excitement.  Finding new ways to convey these truths has tickled that part of my soul that makes me want to giggle with joy and anticipation.

But today, I'm struggling.  Having read several posts and the plethora of comments by dear friends who I hold in high regard, I hear the sighs of despair emanating from my own lips.  I have stood at the altar, and have spoken the words of institution, knowing that I am not worthy to do that very task, and I wonder about whether I am worthy to judge another.  I miss the old liturgy that spoke of not "...trusting in our own righteousness, but in Thy manifold and great mercies."  I have stood there very well aware of my own sin and sinfulness, "...not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy table."  My sin was enough to warrant a cross.

I find myself as another one in the crowd, staring down at the rock that I have just dropped.  And I'm wondering whether I should just walk away quietly, or what...  Oh, I was ready to chunk that thing!  I've been told that I have a pretty mean curve ball (which was never what I wanted to throw before!).  And I had my target in sight.  But I heard a whisper in my ear that said, "This isn't what I want."  And I recognized the voice.  The whisper was a clear and concise reminder of just how sinful I am - Orthodox or progressive.  And I have to admit, for the first time I think I understand what's been missing in the conversation.  (Oh, we've danced all the way around the barn in a wonderful two-step of rhetoric and verbosity.  But we've never really said it out loud - point blank - in so many words.)  We all truly do stand in the need of God's grace and mercy.  And we are not truly Christian - no matter how hard we try to convince ourselves or others - until we have truly surrendered all that we have and all that we are to Christ, and put Him at the center of our lives.

I truly do not wish this post to turn into another in a series of one side versus the other - I've had quite enough of that for one lifetime.  (And, truth be told, I haven't heard anything new from either side that might make me want to come down firmly on one side or the other.  Instead, I think I'll just stay around for a while, looking at all the rocks that folks have dropped at their feet.  Especially the one at my own feet.  And maybe, just maybe, if I'm quiet enough, and listen hard enough, I might just hear some word of grace, healing, comfort, and hope from the One who continues to patiently draw in the sand.

Grace and peace, Y'All!
Brad

Friday, April 18, 2014

An Interest In the Savior's Blood...

And can it be that I should gain

an interest in the Savior's blood!
Died he for me? who caused his pain!
For me? who him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love!  How can it be
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
     - Charles Wesley, 1739

As the events of the night unfolded, he was betrayed, arrested, and thrown into a cistern/prison in the basement of Caiaphas' palace.  In darkness, he spent the next several hours while the high court of religious authorities could be assembled for a quick trial.  When he was finally brought up out of the darkness, he was accused of things that made no sense.  The Architect of the Universe was on trial for claims that he said he could tear down the Temple and rebuild it in three days.  Single-handedly.  The King of Kings and Lord of Lords was being accused for claims that he was usurping the throne of the Jews.

When they weren't getting anywhere with the drummed up testimonies, he was finally asked point-blank: "Are you God's Son, then?" to which Jesus responded, "You say that I am."  The leadership determined that they didn't need to go any further.  They took him to Pilate.

By the end of that day, he had been convicted of a crime for which he was not guilty, sentenced to death, executed, and buried.  A common criminal.  "Good riddance," they thought.  Now we can get back to business as usual.

What would become the source of the doctrine of salvation became the inspiration of a personal reflection of Charles Wesley's admission of the nature and power of grace.  "Amazing love! How can it be that thou, my God, shouldst die for me?"

That one lone act on the cross became for Wesley the identifying core of his own understanding of salvation.  The sacrificial act of Jesus paid the atoning debt that no one else could pay, and further secured for Wesley the ability - the possibility - to approach the Eternal Throne with holy boldness and "claim the crown, through Christ my own."

What began as a day fraught with tragedy for those early followers has become a day to be remembered as the day when God crossed the boundaries of sin and sinfulness to restore humanity.

This is the definition of Grace - amazing, powerful, and life-giving.

See you in Church!

Grace and peace,
Brad