Moved to Tears

Another Olympics is drawing to a close. Because they only take place every four years I have some kind of amnesia about what happens when I watch. Last week as I watched the women’s gymnasts perform I found myself applauding their performances out loud in our family room and then feeling a sense of triumph when their scores were posted.

             

Then, they stood on the platform as recipients of the gold medal and the strains of the national anthem began to play. I became emotional and my eyes got “moist”. The same thing happened as I watched swimmers perform and win medals for our nation. Why do I react that way?

             

Is it knowing what it means to compete, doing your best, and achieving a goal?

             

Is it having a sense that the U.S. Olympians are “my” team?

             

Is it part of what it means to be an American citizen and having your nation being honored by the world?

             

Yes…yes, to all of them.

             

Apparently there is something that happens during the Olympics that touches a chord deep within me.

             

I have the same thing happen periodically on Sunday mornings. Unpredictable. Unexpected. Seemingly out of nowhere.

             

Last Sunday I sat in the sanctuary as our music leaders rehearsed songs that would be used in worship. I do this frequently on Sunday mornings. It is part of the way I prepare to be in God’s presence. It is my worship before worship.

             

As I listened to the music and sang the words to myself, tears flowed down my cheeks. I was overwhelmed by God’s love, grace and mercy. It doesn’t happen every Sunday, but for some reason the combination of where I was in my life, the music, and God’s Spirit touched a chord deep within me. It caught me by surprise.

             

God does that. As we move through life and interact with God and His people, God touches a chord deep within us.

             

There was a time when I would try to analyze what was taking place. Why was this happening? What was wrong with me? Was I falling apart?

             

I’ve learned to just accept it. This is what it means to be a child of God saved by grace, overwhelmed by unconditional love, and serving in a role for which you feel inadequate but called to.  

             

I can’t predict when God’s love is going to overwhelm me and move me to tears, but I am not embarrassed by it.

             

God’s love moves me to tears!

             

A Year

I will warn you...this may be the most disjointed and random piece of writing I have done. Think of it as a “stream of consciousness.” What would you expect from an individual suffering from Olympics overload?

O.K., so a year has gone by!

         

On August 3, 2011 the moving van pulled up in front of our townhouse in Westmont, Ill. and we officially began a new phase of life! Two people in their sixties learning a new culture, meeting new people, shopping at new stores, using new gas stations, eating at new restaurants, negotiating slightly more traffic, and serving God in a new location. Should old people be doing this? Apparently, God thought so.

         

You would think at our age we would be used to this kind of thing. This was the fourth time we had made this kind of move. Leaving a place where you had poured your heart, soul and mind into people and starting all over again. It is like ripping plants out of the ground roots and all, and transplanting them in a new locale, hoping they will not only survive, but thrive. There was a lot of uncertainty.

         

Ministry attaches you to people at the depths of their being. When you are in relationships with people centered on Christ, you are relating with them at the essence of who they are as individuals. You walk with people on the mountain tops and in their deepest valleys. You see people reflect the light of God and you experience the worst of our human darkness.

         

We were in Traverse City last week for a few days visiting with our daughter and some friends, as well as enjoying the natural beauty of the area and just chilling! We spent some time reflecting on the last year.

         

We have been adapting to a new culture, both in our living environment and at our church. Some things are familiar to us and some things still feel very new.

         

We have renewed friendships with some long-time friends from our previous 22 year stint in the Chicago area, and we have made some new friends, not only at church, but in the community at large.

         

The body of Christ where we currently serve is filled with many gifted, committed and faithful followers of Jesus.

         

The body of Christ where we currently serve is also filled with people who live in pain, difficulty, struggle and darkness. In other words, they are a pretty normal group.

         

I have never served in a solo pastorate. I have always worked in situations where there was a multiple staff. God doesn’t trust me out there by myself! The people I work with at ECRC are talented, committed, adventuresome, loving, serious about ministry, and a little goofy. I love working with them, building collegiality and collaboration...becoming a team.

         

Ministry...no matter where you serve...is filled with wonder, awe, and moments when you have to pinch yourself at how unbelievable it is that God would use me and others to accomplish His work!

         

Ministry can also be painful and lonely.

         

There are days I wonder why I do it.

         

There are more days that I wonder why I would ever do anything else.

         

Knowing that you are serving God in the place where He has called you is the most rewarding, life giving, and purpose providing position in which you could ever find yourself.

         

We’re looking forward to another year.

Darkness Among Us

Here we find ourselves again.

Who would think that a night out at the premier of a long-awaited film could end so tragically? It is becoming too common of a question in our lifetime.

Who knew that another routine day in 1998 at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in downtown Oklahoma City could end with 168 dying from a terrorist bomb built and detonated by Americans?

Who knew that another day at Columbine High School could end so tragically where 12 people were killed and many others were injured?

Who knew that a bright, sunny, spring day would include airplanes flying into the twin towers in New York City as took place in 2001?

Who knew that a routine spring day on Virginia Tech’s campus would turn into a nightmare where a student shot and killed 32 from his campus?

Time after time our ordinary, normal, routine days are turned upside down by the horrific actions of others.

Immediately the media began coverage of the story, all trying to beat other outlets to the story. A common question early on was to discover the motivation behind what James Holmes had done. “We are trying to learn more about James Holmes so that we can get a better grasp on the motivation for this shooting,” is the way it was said, or written, in one outlet or another.

Really? Knowing his motivations would do what? Would it put our mind more at ease because we understood why someone would enter a theater after a movie had begun and start killing people? How can we understand his motivations anyway? All we can really do is make guesses, unless James Holmes himself tells us something. My experience tells me that his motivations will not make us feel any better.

Was he motivated by bullying as a child? Or by being an outsider? Or by voices that told him to do this? Or by his fascination with Batman movies? Or by some mental/psychological/emotional disorder? What satisfaction would that bring us? What would it resolve?

Anyone who would do what James Holmes did was not thinking clearly, or rationally. His psyche was in some way disturbed, off kilter.

Our hearts grieve over the senseless loss of life. I was moved by stories of the many who gave their lives to save the lives of loved ones when the incident occurred.

I can’t imagine what it would be like to be the parents of John Holmes. You love your son and raise him in a home where he is nurtured and loved. No parent ever imagines their child might do something like this. They are, no doubt, devastated. How do you continue to love and support your son after he has committed such a horrific crime? I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

These events remind us of the darkness that looms within us as human beings. The first family we meet in the Bible has one son who murders his brother. Cain murdered his brother, Abel, because he was jealous. Following that, the Bible is filled with one story after another of human darkness and evil.

We are capable of some pretty horrific acts.

And God loves us anyway.

So we pray: for the victim’s families, for the healing of survivors, for those who were in the theater and are traumatized by what took place, for the parents of James Holmes, and for James Holmes himself.

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Protestant Priest

I had met her when she was a college student. We had kept in touch sporadically. I knew she had gotten married. I knew she had a successful professional career. I knew she had two children. I knew that she was faithful in following Christ and was raising her children to know Christ as well. I hadn’t seen her for 15 years when she called out of the blue and said she wanted to come and see me.

It wasn’t convenient. It was a significant distance from her home, but she made the trip. When she showed up we spent some time catching one another up on our lives. That lasted for 10 or 15 minutes before I asked, “So, what’s up?”

She didn’t respond right away. She was searching for the right words. She was trying to figure out how to begin. She fidgeted a little. Then she began to tell me about the nature of her work, about the travel requirements, and how one night, and only one night, she had met someone and had a one night stand. Tears flowed down her cheeks, she began to weep uncontrollably. She spoke of her embarrassment, her guilt, her shame and how she had failed her husband, her children, and her Lord. She went on to talk about what a horrible person she was and she didn’t know what to do. But what she really wanted to know from me was God’s perspective.

The interesting and curious part of this conversation was that she had come to me. She had her own pastor. Why had she come to me? Part of it was our history. But part of it was that I was safe. I wasn’t her pastor; she wouldn’t have to look at me every week. I was at a safe distance geographically. She didn’t want ongoing counseling. She just wanted to a place to share her secret and get God’s perspective.

I spoke to her about God’s mercy, grace and forgiveness. She knew all of those things conceptually. She had experienced them at a surface level, but this was huge. Do grace, mercy and forgiveness apply here? Would God forgive her for what she had done?

She wanted to hear me articulate the words, “God forgives you.”

I spoke the words.

She wept again. You could see the heavy burden she was carrying move from her shoulders. She was physically different.

We prayed. We hugged. She left.

I hadn’t said anything she didn’t know. I hadn’t revealed any deep spiritual insight. I acted as a priest; someone to whom she could confess and who, as a representative of God, could bless her with God’s forgiveness.

When this kind of thing happens, I am humbled and moved. It is an awesome and unbelievable thing to bring God’s grace to someone in such a powerful way.

As Protestants, it is not a part of our heritage to have a human mediator for the transaction of guilt, confession and forgiveness. We go straight to the source: God. However, sometimes, as in this case, we need someone who we see as an authority; someone who represents God for us; someone who we see as speaking on God’s behalf, confirm what we know to be true but it just can’t penetrate our heart.

I don’t know a person who doesn’t carry around some kind of guilt of shame.

Hearing the words, “God forgives you”, can change our lives.

Being Moved

I was moved by the scene.

         

Forty plus people strung out across the stage of our worship center ready to be commissioned to be Jesus to an orphanage full of children in Honduras. As I looked at the group it reminded me of Lake Wobegon, where, according to Garrison Keillor, “All the women are strong, all the men are good looking and all the children are above average.”

         

But it wasn’t the Lake Wobegon factor that moved me.

         

I was moved by the fact that 40+ people would sacrifice a week of their summer to work in Honduras with children who had been abandoned by their parents.

         

I was moved knowing that the teenagers who were going had raised money to offset their expenses. They had solicited friends and family as financial supporters. They had auctioned themselves off to people to do “dirty jobs.” They had worked many hours at our annual “huge garage sale.”

         

I was moved by understanding that this trip was an expression of the love of Christ that they have come to know through their families, church and, for some, school.

         

I was moved by the fact that at this young age they want to share Christ’s love with people they do not know.

         

I was moved knowing that the people participating in this trip will come back changed. They will not be the same. They will see things, hear stories, live experiences, and share their lives in ways that will transform them. No one ever comes home from a mission trip without being changed by God in some way.

         

I was moved to be a part of a sending congregation. Our covenant theology is both vertical and horizontal. God has established a covenant relationship with us and has promised to be our partner in whatever life might bring. The body of Christ is in a covenant relationship with one another. No one lives life on their own. We are in this together. We are going with those who are going to Honduras even though we will remain here.

         

I was moved when we acknowledged that this trip was in obedience to God’s command to “...go into all the world and make disciples of all nations....”

         

I was moved that in God’s providence two young adults, who had been a part of the Honduras ministry since they were young, were able to be with us in worship and on the stage representing all the children who have been a part of this ministry past, present and future. They are living examples of God’s amazing power, grace and love!

         

I was moved as I was reminded that our young people, who come from middle and upper middle class American homes, will be “loving on” young children who have been abandoned by parents and families for a variety of reasons that are hard for us to understand. The Honduran children live in poverty and without many of the advantages our children take for granted. God will use our kids to change the lives of others. And our kid’s lives will be changed through these relationships. 

Has God moved you lately?

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Never Have a Power Outage

When I arrived home Sunday after worship I said to Becky, “The sky in the west is really dark. It looks like a storm is coming.” I’m not a weatherman or a prophet, but I do have a firm grasp of the obvious. By the time I had changed clothes and we sat down for lunch, the wind was blowing our furniture on our deck around and it was as dark as night. We went to the basement to watch television to see what they were saying. We were under a “severe storm warning”, but not tornadoes. For the next half hour to forty-five minutes the wind blew hard and the rain poured sideways. Then the sky cleared, the sun shone brightly returning the outside to its sauna-like status.

At the time we had no idea that only a few miles north, things had been much worse. Running east from West Chicago and moving through Wheaton, Glen Ellyn, Lombard, Villa Park and into Elmhurst, the winds had been stronger and had done much more damage. Trees were toppled, limbs fell and power lines were broken, looking as if someone had dropped a huge bowl of black spaghetti into the street and people’s yards. Many were without power for two days or more.

With temperatures flirting with 100 degrees and high humidity, it didn’t take long for homes to become horribly uncomfortable. Air conditioners, refrigerators, freezers, computers, televisions, and phone chargers were all out of commission. For many, 48 hours without those modern conveniences became nearly unbearable.

As I listened to the complaints and the difficulties as placed on Facebook, (you can’t let a lack of electricity keep you from posting your status on Facebook!), I began to think about what it means to live in a global society. National economies are more interconnected. People are doing business all over the world. Every college recommends to their students that they spend at least one semester studying abroad because we are living in an ever shrinking world, and it will be important to know how to adapt to other cultures.

People around the world live every day in conditions we experienced for only a couple of days. People in Haiti deal with heat and humidity year around and many still live in tent cities and in temporary housing because of the devastating earthquake of 2010. They don’t have electricity, cell phones, computers and some struggle for food. Many people in third world countries have a hard time finding drinking water that isn’t polluted. There are places where women carry laundry down to the river to wash it by hand and then carry it home to dry.

We are a bit spoiled in America. We have a hard time living without all of the conveniences that we take for granted. Our culture is built on having power and when we don’t it is disruptive.

It may be good to lose power once in a while, so that we can recall how grateful we are when we have it!

There is something ironic about how disruptive power outages can be. The power of God is available to us 24/7/365 and can never be disrupted. The Holy Spirit is constantly available and will never fail us. The only thing that prevents us from using the power of Holy Spirit is our failure to tap into the Holy Spirit’s availability.

Let the power flow!

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Sad But True

This week I attended a “roundtable” discussion of ministry leaders in the Chicagoland area. We had been invited to talk together about how we thought we could make a difference in the Chicago metro area for Christ.

         

One of the things we were asked to do was to identify challenges or barriers to making progress in influencing people for Jesus. What are the things that prevent us from collaborating with others to make a difference? There were many things listed but two things stuck me as sad and true.

         

One of the items identified was self-interest and self-preservation. We are so easily turned inward. Congregations are created as communities of people. We talk about our “church family”. Communities and families are about relationships with one another. We help one another. We take care of one another. We enjoy one another. But rarely do we turn outward. Rarely do we think about how we can help other people, or serve the community, or give things away. When congregational leaders begin to focus on serving the community, inevitably there will be protests from within. “They care a lot more about the community than they do us.”

         

Congregations and ministries are only a product of what happens to us individually. The original sin is self-interest. The story of Adam and Eve tells us that they lived in the perfect situation, but were unsatisfied and wanted more for themselves. We are in an election year and one of the major concerns voiced over and again has to do with the economy. Who can make sure there is more money in my pocket? Few of us wonder which leader will help us serve others better.

         

It is sad that one of the challenges of changing communities is self-interest in that our founder, Jesus, came to give Himself away. He loved us so much he died for us! That is serving.

         

Too often we want our church, or ministry, or ourselves to get credit for what takes place. I cringe when I hear ministry leaders use the personal pronoun too often and talk about “my staff”, “my congregation” and “my ministry”. I try to avoid that language, but no doubt fall prey to my own self-interest on occasion.

         

The other barrier that stuck with me was lack of trust. Christian institutions, organizations, ministries and individuals don’t trust one another. We have partnered with others before and we have been burned. Promises have been made and unkept. Decisions have been arrived at and altered. Energy has been invested without reciprocity.

         

In every church I have served, there have been groups, and individuals, who don’t trust leaders. Whether it was Elders, Deacons, Administrative Boards or staff members, there has always seemed to be suspicion, a belief that people weren’t being honest, or a belief that the leaders were trying to “pull a fast one.”

         

I have never found that to be the case. Sometimes communication is the problem. Sometimes people make mistakes and things don’t turn out as planned. More often than not, it is an attitude of mistrust that has developed and that attitude colors everything.

         

Self-interest and mistrust. I am prone to both myself and I need to constantly examine my heart and mind to avoid both of these natural land mines.

         

We could make more progress in influencing people to be more like Jesus if we could get out of our own way.

         

Sad, but true.

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