Tonight was a wonderful night as the church gathered for a farewell dinner in our honor. One of our friends, a good man named Bill, made mention of my favorite film, "It's a Wonderful Life". In it the main character, George Bailey (played flawlessly by Jimmy Stewart), finds that his life has meaning because he has invested himself in the lives of the small town population that has come to his house in his hour of need. The movie ends with a toast to George, "the richest man in town". Bill reminded me that I am a rich man having invested the last 11 years of my life in this church and in these people. My riches may not be found in houses or land, but they are laid up in the hearts and lives of people that will survive the ages. It is the legacy I leave behind here as I move on to the next phase of life.
As if to reinforce the thought, I came home to read an email from one of the first young men I ever had the privilege of having on my staff. Steve was barely out of high school when he first came to work with the youth of our church in Florida. He was a joy and special young man. Now, some two decades later, he is in the process of writing his dissertation. How ironic. He said he found his way to my blog through a search of my name. In his email he says some very nice things about our time together and the influence I had on his life. I am feeling a bit like Ol' George tonight. I have friends. I am feeling a bit rich.
As I go on to Seminary, my one hope is that I can have an influence on the next generation of preachers. Now, instead of investing in a congregation of people, I feel called to prepare to teach the next generation of those who will invest themselves in congregations around the country and around the world. Legacy is one thing but investment is quite another. As George Bailey found out that night, his legacy reached beyond Bedford Falls to the battlefields of Europe, the halls of business, and even the rooms of the White House. God willing, the legacy we have will outlive the life we lead.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Brothers
I love the Tom Hanks produced series, "Band of Brothers". The WWII saga of a unit of paratroopers from basic training to the end of the war. You get a sense of what it was like to serve, fight, die, suffer and live with all these men. To become bonded by the experience. Men need to bond with other men and we are so bad at doing it.
This past week I spent a few days with my brothers. The picture to the right of this post (or at the top of the blog if you are reading this after I have created other posts) is of me and my two brothers taken in the summer of 2005 after the funeral of our uncle. The picture as taken on the boardwalk in Atlantic City as we went back to our cousins house after the funeral. I love my brothers. We have taken different careers (they are in business - real estate), live in different areas of the country (they are in the East and I am in the West), and have different lifestyles with differing values and issues which dominate our lives. We are different people who have lived the majority of our lives apart from one another and seeing each other infrequently because of time and distance. But we are brothers. Getting together is a joy. We spend years apart and then come together and find common ground and memories to bind us together again as if we still lived in our parents house. What an amazing feat.
What is it that binds us together as families? Is it just the memories of times gone by? Is it the "blood is thicker than water" argument that says that our genealogical urges outweigh our other friendships of life? Or is it something deeper? I see myself in my brothers. I see my life in their lives. They are images of me without being me. We have been influenced differently and have lived different joys and tragedies - but their is something about them that is true in me. In their insecurities I see my own. In their actions I see my life reflected. In their strengths I see what others see when they see me. Like the mirrors at the Fun House, I am a distorted picture in their reflection because I have lived a different life. But in that mirror I can still see much of the substance of me. And that picture is worth a thousand words of revelation about who I am and what I do. It is a mirror I need to see and one I enjoy looking into. I only hope that I will do so with greater frequency in the future than I have done in the past.
This past week I spent a few days with my brothers. The picture to the right of this post (or at the top of the blog if you are reading this after I have created other posts) is of me and my two brothers taken in the summer of 2005 after the funeral of our uncle. The picture as taken on the boardwalk in Atlantic City as we went back to our cousins house after the funeral. I love my brothers. We have taken different careers (they are in business - real estate), live in different areas of the country (they are in the East and I am in the West), and have different lifestyles with differing values and issues which dominate our lives. We are different people who have lived the majority of our lives apart from one another and seeing each other infrequently because of time and distance. But we are brothers. Getting together is a joy. We spend years apart and then come together and find common ground and memories to bind us together again as if we still lived in our parents house. What an amazing feat.
What is it that binds us together as families? Is it just the memories of times gone by? Is it the "blood is thicker than water" argument that says that our genealogical urges outweigh our other friendships of life? Or is it something deeper? I see myself in my brothers. I see my life in their lives. They are images of me without being me. We have been influenced differently and have lived different joys and tragedies - but their is something about them that is true in me. In their insecurities I see my own. In their actions I see my life reflected. In their strengths I see what others see when they see me. Like the mirrors at the Fun House, I am a distorted picture in their reflection because I have lived a different life. But in that mirror I can still see much of the substance of me. And that picture is worth a thousand words of revelation about who I am and what I do. It is a mirror I need to see and one I enjoy looking into. I only hope that I will do so with greater frequency in the future than I have done in the past.
Coming to a Close
After 31 years of pastoral ministry, my pastorate is coming to a close. I have been at my present post for 11 years in Fresno and on Sunday I will preach my final sermon. What would you want to say if it was not just your final sermon as pastor but was your final sermon as a local pastor (I'm fairly sure I will preach again since my doctoral work is in Homiletics, the science of preaching)? What should I say? If you had only one more opportunity to share from the Bible, what passage would you choose? What theme would you highlight? What statements would you want to make sure you made?
I'm not sure that is what preaching is really all about. To be a preacher means that you are "a herald of a message that is not your own". To come to believe that the spoken word about the written Word is yours to create is to begin the slide down the slippery slope of heresy. Preaching is at its core the sensing of and the leading of the Holy Spirit both in the study and in the delivery of the message. Without His involvement and direction, preachers may give good speeches but not great sermons. So, the real question of the week is not what my final sermon will be about but what does the Holy Spirit have in mind for the congregation on this week? Sermons are not about what one preaches and the satisfaction derived from doing a good exegetical job, it is about communicating to an audience the gospel of Jesus Christ in such a way that the message is timely for the moment and usable by the Holy Spirit to meet the needs of a vast array of lives that are all at different spiritual points and facing different crises in their personal lives. For instance, two of those families that will attend this week have lost loved ones. Several others are coming off deep personal crises that have overwhelmed their lives. Still others are resistant to the gospel; some are dreading our leaving; others are looking forward to our departure; and most have no idea what the coming days and weeks may be like for them and for their families. Into such a cauldron of boiling issues the preacher must add just the right blend of spices to help make the stew of people's lives palatable and understandable from a spiritual realm. Not an easy task you say? An impossible task, I say. Unless it is done under the guidance and movement of the Holy Spirit. Only He can take the morsels dropped from the table of the Word and the activity of worship and make them into a recipe designed for each life.
So, what shall I preach? There are many things I want to say. Many things I desire to say. But for this day, this Sunday, the Holy Spirit keeps drawing me back to praise. The 150th Psalm speaks of the unbridled praise one offers no matter what the circumstance or what instruments are in your hand. "Let's All Be Part of the Band" sounds like a good title. I will see if this is indeed the will of the Lord.
I'm not sure that is what preaching is really all about. To be a preacher means that you are "a herald of a message that is not your own". To come to believe that the spoken word about the written Word is yours to create is to begin the slide down the slippery slope of heresy. Preaching is at its core the sensing of and the leading of the Holy Spirit both in the study and in the delivery of the message. Without His involvement and direction, preachers may give good speeches but not great sermons. So, the real question of the week is not what my final sermon will be about but what does the Holy Spirit have in mind for the congregation on this week? Sermons are not about what one preaches and the satisfaction derived from doing a good exegetical job, it is about communicating to an audience the gospel of Jesus Christ in such a way that the message is timely for the moment and usable by the Holy Spirit to meet the needs of a vast array of lives that are all at different spiritual points and facing different crises in their personal lives. For instance, two of those families that will attend this week have lost loved ones. Several others are coming off deep personal crises that have overwhelmed their lives. Still others are resistant to the gospel; some are dreading our leaving; others are looking forward to our departure; and most have no idea what the coming days and weeks may be like for them and for their families. Into such a cauldron of boiling issues the preacher must add just the right blend of spices to help make the stew of people's lives palatable and understandable from a spiritual realm. Not an easy task you say? An impossible task, I say. Unless it is done under the guidance and movement of the Holy Spirit. Only He can take the morsels dropped from the table of the Word and the activity of worship and make them into a recipe designed for each life.
So, what shall I preach? There are many things I want to say. Many things I desire to say. But for this day, this Sunday, the Holy Spirit keeps drawing me back to praise. The 150th Psalm speaks of the unbridled praise one offers no matter what the circumstance or what instruments are in your hand. "Let's All Be Part of the Band" sounds like a good title. I will see if this is indeed the will of the Lord.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Should You Believe in Prayer?
The phone rings a lot at a pastor's home. On top of all the usual solicitors and salespeople calling, there are friends and family that keep the phone going. However, there are times when the phone rings and it is someone in need or someone with a very difficult moment in their lives. When those phone calls come, it is a tense moment. Over the years, you get used to having such calls come. Everytime the phone rings you wonder what it might be. When such calls come from your family, they always catch you by surprise. I got such a call last night.
I have three sons, all of whom I am very proud of. I have three daughters-in-law who love their husbands and in whom I am equally proud. Last night I got a call from Susan (she is a real loyal fan of this blog) that her husband, our son, was in the hospital. The story was quite amazing. Here are the details from Susan's sister:
Doug is the Youth Pastor at First Church of God in Tallmadge. He and Susan and 37 other people (7 adults and 30 youth) left on Tuesday out of Columbus, Ohio heading for Tijuana, Mexico to teach Bible school. They all live in Tallmadge, Ohio and drove to Columbus, Ohio on Monday and then were supposed to fly out yesterday morning. Doug has had a "bug" recently, but thought he would feel much better for the trip. When they arrived in Columbus last night, they took Doug to the ER and where he was on IV and something for what was left of the flu. At 4 am. he returned to the hotel and he still felt bad, but he did get on the plane. They flew to Atlanta with a minimal layover. During the short layover Doug felt sick again. Susan and Doug missed their flight, so they booked another with little difficulty. About 2 hours into the flight, Doug's stomach became distended and he was in severe pain. God was with them all the way. A doctor traveling on the same flight looked at Doug and told the stewardess that he needed to get to a hospital. They made an unscheduled emergency landing in Oklahoma City. Doug got to a hospital and Susan is with him. She called me about 11 p.m. tonight (7/18). They are going to meet with a surgeon in the morning (7/19) and he is having a colonoscopy and catscan. They have been working to relieve his discomfort and his stomach swelling did go down some. They have him on an IV. Susan is staying in his room with a cot they have set up. A neat twist: Apparently when Doug's senior pastor at First Church of God at Talmadge was called, his wife knew of a pastor in Oklahoma City that was her youth pastor years ago and is now a professor at MidAmerica Bible College, Pastor Lynn Higgens. She called him and he went immediately to the hospital and offered his spiritual and physical assistance. As it turns out, Doug had on him all the affidavits the for all the 30 youth so that they could go out of the country with these 7 adults. By this time, the rest of the group was in Los Angeles, CA, so Pastor Lynn faxed the affidavits to them. Pastor Higgens said they could come to his house to recover after whatever takes place tomorrow. He even offered for Susan to stay there tonight but she wanted to stay with Doug. Everyone has been so nice. Susan said she knows that God has placed people in their path to help them. So remember them in your prayers and especially for Doug. I will keep you posted as I learn more. They are still praying they will be able to join the group in Tijuana Mexico.
The above description was emailed to a minister friend of ours named Dave Coolidge. It went out over the country. Prayers were offered up by countless individuals, church prayer chains, and groups. Today, the doctors released Doug, his pain coming from a bout with Roto virus, and he and Susan will be off to join their group in Mexico (not where I would want to go after having the stomach flu!). Would Doug have gotten well without the prayers? Ah, the great question of the medical and skeptical community. Does prayer work? How do you know? It's not like you can create some scientific test where you withhold prayers in some circumstance and have some pray in others. All in all, faith comes down to a question of, well, faith. You either believe in God and that He acts or you don't. I choose to believe. As a matter of fact, I think it takes just as much faith not believe in God and in his activity as it does to believe in Him. If it takes the same amount of faith to believe as not to, I think I will choose to believe. After all, there have been too many times when lives have been changed after people prayed. Just like Doug. Praise God!
I have three sons, all of whom I am very proud of. I have three daughters-in-law who love their husbands and in whom I am equally proud. Last night I got a call from Susan (she is a real loyal fan of this blog) that her husband, our son, was in the hospital. The story was quite amazing. Here are the details from Susan's sister:
Doug is the Youth Pastor at First Church of God in Tallmadge. He and Susan and 37 other people (7 adults and 30 youth) left on Tuesday out of Columbus, Ohio heading for Tijuana, Mexico to teach Bible school. They all live in Tallmadge, Ohio and drove to Columbus, Ohio on Monday and then were supposed to fly out yesterday morning. Doug has had a "bug" recently, but thought he would feel much better for the trip. When they arrived in Columbus last night, they took Doug to the ER and where he was on IV and something for what was left of the flu. At 4 am. he returned to the hotel and he still felt bad, but he did get on the plane. They flew to Atlanta with a minimal layover. During the short layover Doug felt sick again. Susan and Doug missed their flight, so they booked another with little difficulty. About 2 hours into the flight, Doug's stomach became distended and he was in severe pain. God was with them all the way. A doctor traveling on the same flight looked at Doug and told the stewardess that he needed to get to a hospital. They made an unscheduled emergency landing in Oklahoma City. Doug got to a hospital and Susan is with him. She called me about 11 p.m. tonight (7/18). They are going to meet with a surgeon in the morning (7/19) and he is having a colonoscopy and catscan. They have been working to relieve his discomfort and his stomach swelling did go down some. They have him on an IV. Susan is staying in his room with a cot they have set up. A neat twist: Apparently when Doug's senior pastor at First Church of God at Talmadge was called, his wife knew of a pastor in Oklahoma City that was her youth pastor years ago and is now a professor at MidAmerica Bible College, Pastor Lynn Higgens. She called him and he went immediately to the hospital and offered his spiritual and physical assistance. As it turns out, Doug had on him all the affidavits the for all the 30 youth so that they could go out of the country with these 7 adults. By this time, the rest of the group was in Los Angeles, CA, so Pastor Lynn faxed the affidavits to them. Pastor Higgens said they could come to his house to recover after whatever takes place tomorrow. He even offered for Susan to stay there tonight but she wanted to stay with Doug. Everyone has been so nice. Susan said she knows that God has placed people in their path to help them. So remember them in your prayers and especially for Doug. I will keep you posted as I learn more. They are still praying they will be able to join the group in Tijuana Mexico.
The above description was emailed to a minister friend of ours named Dave Coolidge. It went out over the country. Prayers were offered up by countless individuals, church prayer chains, and groups. Today, the doctors released Doug, his pain coming from a bout with Roto virus, and he and Susan will be off to join their group in Mexico (not where I would want to go after having the stomach flu!). Would Doug have gotten well without the prayers? Ah, the great question of the medical and skeptical community. Does prayer work? How do you know? It's not like you can create some scientific test where you withhold prayers in some circumstance and have some pray in others. All in all, faith comes down to a question of, well, faith. You either believe in God and that He acts or you don't. I choose to believe. As a matter of fact, I think it takes just as much faith not believe in God and in his activity as it does to believe in Him. If it takes the same amount of faith to believe as not to, I think I will choose to believe. After all, there have been too many times when lives have been changed after people prayed. Just like Doug. Praise God!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Moving
This will not be the last time I address this subject. After 11 years in Fresno (and never having a yard sale or garage clean-up during that whole time) we are now attempting to pack up 31 yrs. of living, 11 yrs. of living in one place and move from a 4 bedroom, 3 bath, 2,000 sq. ft. home to a 2 bedroom, 1 1/2 bath, 1,000 sq. ft. apartment. Trying to figure out what to toss, store, move and sell is not an easy task. Joanie has been variously in tears, frustrated beyond belief, and joyously discovering long forgotten goodies that we did not even remember having. I, on the other hand, am grateful that we are moving somewhere where there is no garage so I won't store junk for the next several years that I didn't need for the last 11 years and didn't really need before that!
We do keep running across memories. We found music and materials from Joanie's mother who died 7 years ago; handprints Jonathan put on a piece of material from school; tapes of our wedding and of Joanie in concert - the stuff of memories. I guess I am not the most sentimental guy in the world when it comes to such stuff. I don't need the tape of our wedding to remember the day and what I felt. It still makes me choke up and smile when I remember that day. I am more interested in Jonathan's hands that touch me today than handprints from years ago. I remember Joanie's mother all the time (she would be so proud and supportive of what we are doing in this move - Just as Dad is). I love the memories, but the objects don't always make me remember. The things those people did to impact my life - I remember them all the time.
We do keep running across memories. We found music and materials from Joanie's mother who died 7 years ago; handprints Jonathan put on a piece of material from school; tapes of our wedding and of Joanie in concert - the stuff of memories. I guess I am not the most sentimental guy in the world when it comes to such stuff. I don't need the tape of our wedding to remember the day and what I felt. It still makes me choke up and smile when I remember that day. I am more interested in Jonathan's hands that touch me today than handprints from years ago. I remember Joanie's mother all the time (she would be so proud and supportive of what we are doing in this move - Just as Dad is). I love the memories, but the objects don't always make me remember. The things those people did to impact my life - I remember them all the time.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
What is the World Coming To?
For years the fundamental wing of the Christian Church has speculated about the Second Coming based on the 1948 creation of an Israelite state in the Middle East. Bookstores have been filled with books (the "Left Behind" series has been a huge seller) about final things and eschatology. Undoubtedly, the events of this week will become constant fodder for the religious airwaves in the days and weeks to come. This will be viewed by the John Hagee's and Pat Robertson's as fulfillment of biblical prophecy. What are we to believe? What are we to think? What is the world coming to, anyway?
Time Magazine has put up this cover and proclaimed the end of "Cowboy Diplomacy". Yet today, the rumblings of the next war in the Middle East have been heard. Bombs are being dropped on airport runways and roads that link nations together. Soldiers are kidnapped and terrorists camps have been bombed. The seriousness of the conflict is intensifying. Iran is threatening an Arabic world retaliation if Syria is attacked. Is WWIII coming? Is Jesus about to return? What is the world coming to, anyway?
Well, I am thinking more about people like DonDeena Johnson in Beirut. She is trying to run a school and pastor a church while the city of Beirut is being bombed. I am praying for her and for the students, faculty and church members of that war torn country. Do I think Jesus is about to return? Sure. I always think he is about to return. Jesus told us to live our lives ready for an event (the second coming) that will happen at any moment but may tarry for another millennium or two. When it happens, no one will be prepared except those who are always prepared. I seriously doubt that any Mideast conflict will usher in the final event of human history. It is too obvious. But I do think that it will be the "second coming" for some people who will die in this conflict. To those who die today, their second coming will be to face Jesus and give an account of their lives and their faith. Let us live as though today is our last day and let us plan as though the Lord will tarry for our lifetimes. And don't listen to Time Magazine or Hagee or Robertson. Read the Word, it has more contemporary information in it than any of these guys have. And it reads better, too.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Family Time
I am so fortunate to have the family that I have. I talked to two of my boys today and that brought a smile to my face and my heart. After being separated from my youngest son for nearly a year while he and his wife were studying theater in England, I got to see them for the first time last week - and today I called him on the phone and got a chance just to chat. How nice. At the moment I am talking to my middle son who is just coming home from work (he lives in Indiana) and is telling my wife and I about his day. It is not earth shattering conversation, but is the joy that is inherent in communicating with my boys. It is a precious thing to be at this stage of my life (I'm 53) and with my boys in their 20's (Ok, Doug, is on the other side of 40 but who's counting?) and still have all of them enjoy talking to me, seeing me, having me visit, and asking for advice. In a world with so many estranged families who cannot communicate at all or who cannot stand to be together, I have a loving family that cherishes times together and moments spent eating a meal, playing a game, going to a movie, or just driving along talking together in the car.
My three sons (Ok, couldn't resist) have married three very unique and incredibly special women. They are beautiful, talented, caring, loving, and very interesting people. I look forward to decades of spending time listening to them and sharing with them. I will be a better person because of their unique gifts, talents and intellect. Amazingly, they have all married into families that we enjoy spending time with (though we have spent far too little time with Susan's family over the years). We have begun deep friendships with the Flores' and Klecka's that we cherish already and enjoy immensely.
Dads, don't ever take for granted the years you have with your kids. The struggles of early parenting are all worth it when you get to this side of life. Moms, make sure you hug your kids today and tell them that you love them. The expressions of love you get after they become adults are some of the sweetest expressions you will ever experience. Children, call your parents, email them, send them a note, do something that tells your parents how much you love and appreciate them. They will bask in the glow of your expression of love.
My three sons (Ok, couldn't resist) have married three very unique and incredibly special women. They are beautiful, talented, caring, loving, and very interesting people. I look forward to decades of spending time listening to them and sharing with them. I will be a better person because of their unique gifts, talents and intellect. Amazingly, they have all married into families that we enjoy spending time with (though we have spent far too little time with Susan's family over the years). We have begun deep friendships with the Flores' and Klecka's that we cherish already and enjoy immensely.
Dads, don't ever take for granted the years you have with your kids. The struggles of early parenting are all worth it when you get to this side of life. Moms, make sure you hug your kids today and tell them that you love them. The expressions of love you get after they become adults are some of the sweetest expressions you will ever experience. Children, call your parents, email them, send them a note, do something that tells your parents how much you love and appreciate them. They will bask in the glow of your expression of love.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Signing
I spent one night at the North American Convention (Anderson Campmeeting) signing books. I'm not sure how to describe it. Awkward comes to mind. So does exciting and gratifying. Most of those who purchased the book (and wanted it signed) were friends of mine. That was the gratifying part. The exciting part was talking to people who had read the book or who were reading the book. Awkward was the part where you didn't want to be "hawking" your wares in the "Temple" (I was glad it was the entrance to the gymnasium - made me feel better). One of those who read the book was one of my mentors, Dr. James Earl Massey. He read it in one night (I shouldn't be surprised). He had nice things to say about the material. That was amazingly gratifying. I was most proud of the dedication page. I had many folks to thank. Here is what I wrote:
This book is dedicated to those who have helped me to preach the story:
To my parents, Frank and Florence, who told me my first stories and who, at their funerals, I had the privilege of telling their final stories;
To my in-laws, John, the finest pastor I have ever known and to Bertha who, even years after her passing, remains my biggest fan;
To my mentor, Rev. Forrest Plants, who taught me to trust the storyteller that was in me and encouraged me to preach the story;
To giants of the pulpit - men like Dr. James Earl Massey, Dr. Samuel Hines, and President Robert Reardon who spoke to my heart and soul as a young minister and invested in me the joyous and awesome charge to preach the Word;
To Rev. Horace Shepherd, Sr. who preached the story one night and offered to shake the hand of the first young person who would go to the altar and accept Jesus Christ as their Savior. That night he prayed over a 17-year-old boy at an altar and started my journey in Christ and more than four decades later I still, “Feel constrained to say that I love this narrow way, singing glory, hallelujah, I’m one of them today”;
But mostly, this book is dedicated to an incredible partner and friend, my wife Joanie, who has loved me through good times and bad, through ups and downs, and through the fire and the rain and who has blessed me with three incredible children (Doug, Jonathan, and Joel and their wives Susan, Maria, and Shafali) who have given my life joy, meaning, and a wealth of stories that it will take a lifetime to share.
To my parents, Frank and Florence, who told me my first stories and who, at their funerals, I had the privilege of telling their final stories;
To my in-laws, John, the finest pastor I have ever known and to Bertha who, even years after her passing, remains my biggest fan;
To my mentor, Rev. Forrest Plants, who taught me to trust the storyteller that was in me and encouraged me to preach the story;
To giants of the pulpit - men like Dr. James Earl Massey, Dr. Samuel Hines, and President Robert Reardon who spoke to my heart and soul as a young minister and invested in me the joyous and awesome charge to preach the Word;
To Rev. Horace Shepherd, Sr. who preached the story one night and offered to shake the hand of the first young person who would go to the altar and accept Jesus Christ as their Savior. That night he prayed over a 17-year-old boy at an altar and started my journey in Christ and more than four decades later I still, “Feel constrained to say that I love this narrow way, singing glory, hallelujah, I’m one of them today”;
But mostly, this book is dedicated to an incredible partner and friend, my wife Joanie, who has loved me through good times and bad, through ups and downs, and through the fire and the rain and who has blessed me with three incredible children (Doug, Jonathan, and Joel and their wives Susan, Maria, and Shafali) who have given my life joy, meaning, and a wealth of stories that it will take a lifetime to share.
Thanks to all who purchase the book and to all who will read it. It is exciting and gratifying.
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